#can you imagine the previous day they had their Big Romantic Gesture and kissed in the sunset

[queengiuliettafirstlady]

A rosy surprise for my Love

A rosy surprise for my Love

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Vlad x OC (Juliet Pureblood vampire niece of le Comte)

Prompt: Feb 4th - Surprising them with way more roses than expected

Part of Be my valentine content creation challenge hosted by @xxsycamore and @chaosangel767

Tag: Fluff

Word Count: 865

Author's Note: Saint Valentine day a special occasion for lovers to show their feelings to one another through romantic gestures, seeing evryone happy is such a nice view especially for a pureblood vampire but his dutiful nature make him blind to see his own lovers desire, indigned and angry with him she wuld like to hold a grudge to him but when her lover gift her something behind her imagination she would stood her ground and be mad at him ? All depends on another bigger surprise he has in store for her sweeping off doubts about his love she may have gotten, changing her mind and heart in a magical night all their to enjoy. 🥰

Tag list

@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @aquagirl1978 @violettduchess

@nightghoul381 @william-rex

@writingwhimsey @fang-and-feather

@moonstruckmelancholic @lichtluv @wistfulwanderingone

@rjthirsty @ike-garden2024

@jollibeeshappiness @starzyquee             

@maeko-kun @rkmaru

You can find me on AO3 as QueenJuliet 😊 Thank you for everyone who will like, reblog, or comment please be gentle with me english is not my first language so please do not leave rude comments I apologise for eventual errors I hope you will like it.😊

It was a nice afternoon the air was frizzy, slight wind occasionally breezed through the flowers carrying the sweet scent among the couples enjoying their times together as the sun slowly begin to set painting everything in warm shades of rose and oranges.

On a bench not too far away stood a girl sighing heavily, her eyes darted at him intent on giving off roses to every man passing him by, she looked at the lovebirds waltzing in front of her laughing and chatting, exactly like she should have been doing with him but he wanted to see humans happy so he insisted on working that day too despite her opinion, after sending him a disdainful glance full of hatred and half hidden pain she stood up haughtily, feeling regrets eating her up at the thought that after all he was working hard only for her to be satisfied but yet she felt lonely, he needed money to buy all the things she wanted, she knew if she loved to be spoiled like a princess and that he would have never denied her anything she was so grateful for this yet she wished they would have spent the most romantic day of the year in a more smoochy setting showing how much love they had for each other.

Settling down on a cobble wall a sigh escaped her lips sniffling quietly she close her eyes to keep away her tears threatening to spill on her cheeks, when she reopened them an huge bouquet of red roses obscured her view, she was almost reaching to take it when a pair of scarlet eyes appear above them gazing at her, one minute after she saw his face looking back with a troubled smile.

She pouted frowning, slowly she took up the bouquet too big to fit in her arms still disappointed and not intended on forgiving him so soon until she saw something glimmering in the heart of the bouquet, tentatively she reached one hand inside it taking off a beautiful golden bracelet embroidered with hearty rubies shining in the sunset, she smiled shyly looking up at him now sat on the wall looking carefully to capture her every expression smiling softly.

“ Thank you Vlad. ” she blushed looking down feeling guilty for her previous tantrum but soon she felt a pair of fingers caressing her cheeks shily she looked back at him smiling faintly as he took her hand in his kissing it reverently

“ I am sorry to have saddened you.” gently his calloused finger brushed her hand lacing his finger with hers “ I promise I will make up to you tonight Juliet.” softly he planted a kiss on her forehead before sliding down on her kiss showing his love in a sweet slow kiss for everyone to look at his feeling for her.

As they pulled away he brushed his finger on her cheek she smiled shyly hiding her blush by sniffling the roses closing her eyes as the sweet scent filled her nostrils, his smile, honest and happy melted on his lips, reached her heart and before he could do anything he felt a pair of lips on his cheek

“ Thank you for the roses they are so beautiful.”

“ I am afraid not even one can be compared to you for as much you can think so not a single bud in the world can be as gracious as you.” she felt heat begin to rise on her cheeks painted like blooming roses in spring.

“ I love you so much roză meu dulce .” reverently he kissed her hand as she giggled happily

“ I love you too Vlad.” she looked back at him the love he felt for her melt his heart slowly he entwined his fingers with hers

“ I have finished for the day care to join me for dinner ? ”

“ Could I say no ? ” she joked smiling teasingly at him

“ I am afraid I do not accept refusal.” his eyes glimmered dangerously making her giggle, already excited to see what other gift he had in store for her, she sighed softly sure that night he would have make up for all the time he spent away from her, making her known the depth of the love he felt for her, thanking her for chosing him despite his old friend, her uncle insecurity but he proved him wrong and he was both surprised and delighted to his change happy to see them both so much in love with each other, glad to see someone loving his niece so much as to satisfy her every desires.

Slowly they melted into the crowd kissed by the color of the setting sun transforming the town in a scenery worth to be in a romantic painting, while two figures watched them from the shadow of the florist cart he left them to work at, as one sighed dreamily watching the sweet couple waltzing away directed to his house savoring the love he would have felt emanating from the couple warming their home, the other scoffed bracing himself for another sleepless night at the castle.

[samstree]

for the drabble thing: “you weren’t there”

maybe post mountain geraskier? i’m in an angsty mood rn but whatever you wanna write will be good :)

Creatures of the Night (2)

It's the night of Jaskier and Valdo's wedding. Geralt needs to do something.

(endgame geraskier, background valdo/jaskier, angst, infidelity)

Previous | AO3

The Oxenfurt Observatory might just be the grandest building in Redania.

The great hall is decorated with countless flowers and candles, giving the ancient walls a soft glow. Through the tall glass ceiling, stars are shining in the clear night sky, the perfect weather for a wedding.

It must be Jaskier’s idea, to be handfasted at midnight, to have his guests slow-dance under the moon and the stars until dawn breaks. Their new life will begin when the candles burn out and the first ray of light spills into the room.

If only there’s a competition for the biggest romantic on the continent. Jaskier could win without breaking a sweat.

The room is being filled up with guests—mostly bards and professors, old schoolmates of the two grooms. After all, both Valdo and Jaskier are Oxenfurt’s children, which means everyone is dressed in the most colorful clothes one could imagine. In another word, the room is being filled up with Jaskiers, and it’s getting loud.

It’s more difficult to locate the bard himself through the din of the room, but Geralt hears him, unmistakably. Jaskier’s heartbeat approaches the Observatory, thrumming with nervousness.

No more nervous than Geralt.

He breathes in, and exits the room in a few strides. And there Jaskier is, surrounded by pale moonlight, with jasmine flowers braided into his hair and pure joy painted across his cheeks. He seems to be murmuring a private joke to Essi, and they both burst into strings of giggles.

Geralt almost backs out.

“Geralt!” Jaskier notices him. “You came! I was worried for a moment.”

“Of course.” Geralt gestures to the outfit he helped pick out. “You look nice.”

“Thank you. Now, Poppet, can you give us a few moments?” Jaskier sends Essi inside with the sweetest smile. She shoulders past Geralt a little too curtly. There’s always an air of wariness whenever Essi regards Geralt, an untrusting side-eye here and there.

“Don’t mind her.” Jaskier waves when they are left alone. “Little Eye is a tad too protective. She’ll get over it.”

“Hmm.” Geralt swallows hard. “Can we find somewhere more private? I want to talk to you.”

Jaskier blinks, but leads them away anyway until they are by the side of the road, the celebrating crowd and the orange glow of candlelight in the distance.

“Here to make sure I end up someone else’s problem, aren’t you? Don’t worry, in about half an hour, I will be legally required to only bother Valdo for the rest of eternity.” Jaskier nudges Geralt in the shoulder, a jasmine slipping by his ear.

Geralt rights it without thinking, his fingers trembling.

Gods, he can’t say it. He can’t. Jaskier is so happy and Geralt will only ruin their friendship. His second chance is too precious to be risked—

“No, actually,” Geralt heaves out a breath, his heart pounding. “The opposite."

Jaskier snorts, “And, my dear witcher, what is the opposite?”

Here it goes.

“I am in love with you.”

The words sink into the silence. Geralt’s world narrows down to the steady rise and fall of Jaskier’s chest and the little hitch in his breathing. In the darkness of the night, Jaskier’s eyes stay in the shadows, his emotions obscured.

“No, you are not.” When he finally answers, it comes out in a snort. “Ha! A good one, Geralt! And they say witchers don’t have a sense of humor, idiots!”

Jaskier lets out another dry laugh, although the waver in his voice betrays everything.

“I am,” Geralt stresses again, “in love with you, Jaskier.”

Jaskier is staring, the upturn of his lips freezing into shock, the rise and fall of his chest picking up into a frenzy and suddenly he’s breathing too fast. “You can’t. You just can’t…” Air seems to trap in his lungs and a salty tang of tears hits Geralt full-force.

“I wish I couldn’t love, like what they say, but Jaskier, I can and I do—”

“You can’t do this to me!” Jaskier shouts, crying openly. “No, no! You don’t get to tell me this now! We had twenty years…”

Geralt wants more than anything in the world to pull Jaskier into his arms and wipe away the tears, but the space between them is too great. “I didn’t know for twenty years, Jask. Forgive me. It was only after the mountain that I learned how important you were to me. I couldn’t go on like this—”

“The mountain?” Jaskier chokes out a whimper. “You realized after the mountain? You mean when I bared my heart to you and you stomped on it like it was nothing?”

Geralt shakes his head, the guilt constricting his chest. “I’m sorry. For all the pain I caused you.”

“For months I thought I was but a mistake to you, that you hated me for two decades and couldn’t wait to cast me aside like dirt stuck on your shoes. Do you even know… Geralt, do you have an ounce of idea what I went through?”

Jaskier sways and Geralt catches him in his arms, placing his head on his shoulders and feeling the uncontrollable shakes running down Jaskier’s spine. The sight of Jaskier hurt because of him, again, pains Geralt more than any monster’s claws or talons.

“I love you, Jaskier,” he vows. “You were never nothing to me. You are everything. I was an idiot. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Jaskier struggles and swats at his shoulders and Geralt takes it all the while murmuring more sweet nothings into his ear. Finally, when Jaskier calms down, it’s with another whimper. “You are an idiot.”

“I am.” Geralt cradles the nape of Jaskier’s neck, running his thumb in circles, soothing the last of the trembling away. “Just one word from you, Jask, I can take you away. You don’t have to marry him. Just give me the word and I’m yours. Gods, I’ve waited for so long for this day. At last, I’m sure of my heart, just as I’m sure of yours.”

He buries into Jaskier’s hair and inhales the grief and the flowers, and something that is distinctly Jaskier, expecting a whispered plea. Just one word from Jaskier and they can start their new life together.

What he doesn’t expect is the way Jaskier goes stiff in his arms and the hand that pushes him away.

The soft moonlight catches a glint in Jaskier’s eyes, and it speaks of determination. “Valdo,” he says, as if in a dream.

“You don’t have to marry him. We can lea—”

“Valdo will be here soon.” Jaskier sniffles and wipes at his tears frantically. His whole face is puffy from crying and there’s no way he can hide it. “It’s almost midnight.”

Geralt’s world comes to a stop.

“What?”

“Get inside, and don’t say anything about this.”

“I don’t understand. Jask, you don’t need to go through this anymore. I’ll give you anything you ask. Just say the words, please,” he begs for the first time in a century, catching Jaskier’s hand.

“I am saying it. Get inside. Sit in the back row and don’t speak to me. Valdo might be able to tell.” With a few deep breaths, Jaskier school his features back to neutral. “Only the gods know how he can read me like an open book.”

Geralt’s blood runs cold. “Do you love him?”

The anguish by the corner of Jaskier’s lips says everything. It remains as he smiles a crooked smile. “He loves me. Oh, Geralt, he loves me. I can’t hurt him like this.”

“I thought,” Geralt looks down in shame. “I thought I knew your heart.”

“I thought I did too.”

“Then why?”

“You weren’t there,” Jaskier shrugs like it’s the easiest explanation. “He was.”

Despite every cell in Geralt’s body screaming against it, he nods and lets go of Jaskier’s hand, allowing his limp fingers to slip from his grasp at last.

Jaskier has asked it of him after all.

He doesn’t know how he got back into the crowd, the warm light only a blur in his vision. Another group is stopping near the hall, among them is the other groom-to-be. Valdo’s worried voice when he sees Jaskier is another blow to Geralt’s chest.

“Oh, Julian, are you crying?”

“Just…too happy.”

There’s the sound of kissing, and Geralt can’t tune it out. He laughs at himself for the masochistic tendencies, but maybe he deserves the torture.

“No more tears. Let’s get married, my love.”

The guests settle, and the music begins.

The happy couple walks towards the altar in the witness of family and friends, and Geralt watches every moment of it.

If the smile on Jaskier’s face is a bit strained as the priest ties the ribbon, no one seems to notice.

---

A big thanks to anon for the prompt! I asked for some one-word or one-sentence prompts and the next thing I knew they were connecting into a whole story.

Each chapter of this story will be based on a prompt, so send in one if you want to steer it in certain directions ;)

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard​ @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire @dapandapod

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

[ikeromantic]

Uncomfortable Questions

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfiction occurring after the events of the romantic epilogue! Approx. 3000 words of fluff and stuff.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Friends and Frenemies

Miyake was nervous. He did his best to hide it. His job today was to stay with Lady Akechi, to keep her safe and happy. Normally, he’d consider it an easy task. A pretty girl, a new place to explore . . . but this was his Lord’s wife! And . . . other complications.

He swallowed.

“Do you want to go shopping too, Miyake? I see you’re wearing another of Sasuke’s t-shirts.” The lady smiled back at him as she asked.

“Nope! I’m good. I like this shirt. And the ninja took me out for some pants that fit too. I'm just here to keep you safe.” He glanced up at the tall tall buildings to their right and left. “Where, uh, do you want to go?”

Her shoulders sagged. “It’s not so much what I want to do as what I should. I need to stop by the clothing designer here - the place that hired me. To apologize for disappearing like I did.”

“Think they’ll be mad?”

“I hope not.” She mumbled something else, something Miyake didn’t catch.

“What was that?”

“Oh. Ah, just that I imagine they won’t be nearly as hard to apologize to as my family.”

Miyake nodded. Families were tough. He’d left his own to go serve Akechi, and never looked back. Not everyone could or would do that.

The lady stopped at a gift shop to pick up flowers for her former co-workers. Miyake didn’t let her lift a thing. Better safe than sorry. He even offered to carry her bag - her purse, she called it - but she wouldn’t let him.

Then they rode the train - which would have been fun if there’d been a seat for the lady. Standing, Miyake spent the whole time worried she might fall. Every little lurch made his jaw clench.

She seemed to notice his concern, and when they got off the train, stopped. “Miyake, I’m not that fragile. I don’t know what Mitsuhide threatened you with, but I promise, I’m perfectly capable of carrying things, walking, and standing on my own.” She laughed. “I’ve been doing it for years.”

“I know, my lady. But it just seemed like . . . in your uh, your state . . .” He gestured helplessly. Neither the lady nor his lord had said a word, and it seemed wrong to just put it out there before they did.

“My state?”

Miyake tried to hide behind the bouquets in his arms. “Ah, maybe it’s the wrong word. But hey! Isn’t that the shop you’re looking for?” It was a two-story building. A large sign hung above the double glass doors, with a spool of thread and a needle.

The lady turned. “Yep. That’s the place.” She squared her shoulders like a soldier going into battle. “Let’s do this.”

Grateful for the topic change, Miyake followed her across the street and inside.

The woman at the front counter recognized her immediately. Rather than anger, her face lit up with a big smile. “You’re ok!” She called out, “Hey ladies, our new hire just showed up six months late.”

Lady Akechi blushed deeply.

Three heads peered past the corner and then the other designers filed into the room. Besides the young lady at the counter that recognized Lady Akechi, there was an older woman with red cheeks and a round face, a short, thin girl with ponytails, and a tall woman that looked like she might arm-wrestle in her spare time.

There was a round of re-introductions between the five of them, hand shakes, and bows. Lady Akechi apologized several times, and then came the barrage of questions.

“Is this the guy you left us for,” one asked, coming over to inspect Miyake.

“N-no, he works for him though. Oh! And those flowers are for you.” She gestured for Miyake to hand them out.

He dutifully gave out the bouquets under the speculative stairs of four strange women.

“Huh,” said another. “So you found some rich guy and now you don’t need to work? Lucky!”

“This one’s pretty cute though,” the older lady said.

The short one with her ponytails smiled bashfully. She hid her smile behind her hand.

Lady Akechi stumbled over her words. “Oh - oh, I still work. I just do commissions now. And ah, ah, that’s Miyake.” She pointed to the older woman. “Miyake, this is Aiko.” She gestured to ponytail girl, “And Masako.” She nodded to the girl from the counter, “Takara,” and then to the tall woman, “And that’s Kei.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Miyake bowed. He felt himself blush under the weight of their gazes. He hoped this apology and leave-taking wouldn’t take too long, but that was a futile dream.

The women invited them out for tea, and promptly closed the shop. They walked, chattering together, to a cafe nearby.

Masako hung back to walk beside Miyake. She kept glancing up at him, shy but forward. After a block or so, she shoved a piece of paper into his hand and then hurried back up to join the other women.

Miyake looked at the paper. It had some numbers on it. Some sort of code? Was Masako a kunoichi? He studied the paper. Ten digits. Three numbers and a dash, three more numbers, a dash, and then four more numbers. The number 2 repeated. Huh.

He put it away when they got to the cafe. The place smelled strongly of coffee, a bitter beverage that people in this era seemed to enjoy. Miyake preferred tea. There were glass cabinets with sweets on display too. Things he didn’t even begin to recognize.

“What would you like,” lady Akechi asked. “I’m getting a cold coffee and some financiers.”

Aiko laughed at the expression on his face as he scrutinized the display. “You look like you’ve never been to a French bakery before.”

He nearly admitted he hadn’t, but he knew better than to give information away. Instead he just smiled. “It all looks so good. What do you recommend?”

Takara shrugged. “If you like sweets, the macarons are great. Otherwise, get a croissant or some brioche.”

“I like the crepes,” Mayako added.

He wound up getting the crepes and a tea. While the girls continued their chatter, now asking lady Akechi about her whirlwind romance and her future plans, he focused on his plate. Miyake prodded the food suspiciously. What was a crepe made of? What was in it and on it?

Miyake picked up the fork the way Sasuke taught him, cut off a piece of fluffy golden crepe and some of the fruit and poofy white stuff inside, and then stuck it in his mouth. The flavors hit him all at once. Sweet and buttery, the texture smooth as velvet, contrasting with the tart fruit.

“I think he likes it,” Aiko grinned.

“I know how to make crepes,” Mayako spoke up.

Takara elbowed her.

Kei laughed. “Men don’t usually order stuff like that here. Glad you’re not shy about what you like.”

Lady Akechi gave him a gentle pat on the arm. “He doesn’t go out for sweets often.”

Miyake nodded, feeling his cheeks flush again. Going into battle was easier than sitting through tea with a bunch of women, he thought.

When the ladies returned to their conversation, he felt safe enough to polish off the crepes, and order a second round. By that point, Aiko and Kei were giving lady Akechi tips on how to keep her man, and Miyake wished he could turn his ears off.

The conversation finally wound down, and the group returned to the clothier shop.

“You know,” Takara said, eyeing lady Akechi, “if you’re going to be around at least a few weeks, I have a commission or two you could pick up. Since you’re still working.”

“I’d love that!” The two of them headed to the back of the shop, and Miyake followed.

Masako gestured for him to stop. “That’s not for customers.”

“I’m not a customer.” He stopped though. From here, he could see lady Akechi and the other woman chatting beside some bundles of fabric.

The girl squinted up at him. She was, he thought, exceptionally short for a grown woman. “Are you some kind of mafia guy? Yakuza? Are you in a gang?”

“What?” Miyake’s eyes widened.

“I won’t tell anyone. Just me and Kei thought, the way you follow her around, you must be hired muscle.”

“I work for Lord Akechi,” he said slowly. “He is not . . . any of those things. I think.”

Masako frowned. “Fine. Don’t tell me. At least, don’t tell me yet.” She tugged at a ponytail, pulling it over one eye. “Maybe you can tell me when you . . . when you call me.”

From behind them, Kei snorted. “That is not how you flirt, Masako. You sound like a salesman.”

“I do not!” The shorter girl bristled. “Just because I’m not pushy like you!”

“Guys like pushy. Makes it easy for them to say yes.” She was standing pretty close, Miyake realized. She’d come up behind him and now he was trapped between the two women. He turned to look at Kei.

This was the wrong thing to do.

When he turned, she grabbed the back of his head and kissed him. It was . . . not a bad kiss. She was clearly experienced. Still, he gently pushed her away.

“See? Now if I gave him my number, you know he would call me.” Kei smiled smugly.

Masako looked furious. “I can’t believe you just did that!”

Mikaye understood now that he was the cause of this bizarre argument. A few days ago, he might have enjoyed being fought over by two attractive women. Not today. Today, he knew who he was going to marry and it surely wasn’t either of them. “I’m sorry ladies. I am already spoken for.”

“Oh sure! All the hot guys already have girlfriends.” Masako threw her hands up.

Kei chuckled. “What she doesn’t know, hm?”

“I ah, appreciate that, but -” He looked down the hall toward lady Akechi. She was lifting one of the cloth bundles. “My lady, no!” Miyake pushed past Masako. He lunged into range and grabbed the cloth out of her hands.

“What are you doing?” She looked stunned. A few bits of thread still stuck to her fingers.

Miyake grimaced. “You can’t be picking things like this up, my lady. It’s not safe for the baby.”

The four shop women all gasped at the same time. “You’re pregnant?” The question was a chorus of sharp disapproval to happy surprise.

Lady Akechi’s hands went to her hips. “No! Not, not as far as I know. Miyake?” One eye brow lifted and the expression was so like Mitsuhide’s that Miyake nearly handed back the bundle of cloth, certain he was wrong.

But he knew she had to be with child. Otherwise the dates wouldn't add up. “I - sorry my lady. I know you didn’t announce it yet.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Miyake took a deep breath. “Well. Yesterday, you know how I got quizzed by those professors?”

“Mhmmm.”

“They said I’m going to marry your daughter. Lord Akechi’s daughter, I mean. So I assumed . . .”

The four women burst into a whole new round of excited questions and now Miyake was the focus.

Lady Akechi came to his rescue. “I think Miyake’s just being . . . metaphorical. Yes. Not literal. Because I’m not pregnant. And anyway, ah, it really is time for us to go! But I’ll be back in a few weeks with the evening gown you commissioned. Thanks for that!”

Saying goodbye still took half an hour more, but they did get out and back onto the street alone.

Miyake snuck a look at his lord’s woman. She looked angry. Or worried. Maybe both. She kept touching her belly as if to be sure there was nothing new there.

“I’m not pregnant,” she said after they’d walked a little way back toward the train station. “I think I’d be able to tell. I mean, Mitsuhide and I, we don’t . . . you know, we just . . . but it takes awhile to make a baby, right? Like, lots and lots of . . .”

He swallowed. “Uh, sure? I mean, I knew some girls that got babies after one night with a man, but, I don’t know?”

“But not me. I'd know,” she said more firmly. “But . . . let’s stop at a pharmacy before we go home.”

***

Mitsuhide was having a fantastic day. He and Sasuke were riding the train out to the university. He tried to memorize the map of train stations, and even took a snapshot of it on his phone before Sasuke showed him how to download the ‘app.’

“Are you planning on traveling places on your own? I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Mitsuhide smiled obliquely. “I don’t know yet. But that is the problem for me here. I don’t know many things.”

After a moment, the ninja nodded. “And that is also why you agreed to come with me today.”

“Yes.”

Sasuke bowed slightly. “It would be my honor to teach you whatever you want to learn in this modern day.”

“You have me at a disadvantage but do not seek to exploit it?” One white eyebrow lifted in a gesture his fiancee was mimicking half a city away.

“No. I wouldn’t do that to the man my modern era bestie loves.”

Mitsuhide pressed. “This, despite working for my sworn enemies, Takeda and Uesugi?”

Sasuke’s shoulders tensed. “Yes. And technically, they are Nobunaga’s sworn enemies, not yours. And in this day, they are dead.”

“I see. You are desperately balancing your allegiances and rationalizing your actions to suit the situation and your preferred outcome. Are you sure you aren’t interested in a job?”

“You aren’t in a position to hire me.” Sasuke’s mouth quirked into what Mitsuhide was realizing was his smile.

The warlord nodded. “True. Perhaps I will ask again when we return home. Which will be . . .”

Sasuke flushed. “I am not certain. Perhaps, three months? The magnetic device I put together to predict and to enhance the conditions surrounding the wormhole was destroyed when we were pulled through.”

“So we could be stranded here.”

“Yes.” Sasuke’s voice was very quiet as he agreed.

“You seem unusually disturbed by that. Yet, this is your home?”

The ninja shrugged. “It was. We should be going now. The professors will be waiting for you, and we still need their help.”

Mitsuhide knew he hadn’t gotten to the reason for Sasuke’s unhappiness at their current predicament. He needed to know why the ninja was perturbed, but good intel took time. Instead, he spent the rest of the trip to the university solving the mysteries of bank cards and how to operate a smart phone.

The university was a pleasant surprise. A vast complex of buildings dedicated to furthering knowledge and culture. There was one entire center given to poetry and literature. Another to medicine. One to agriculture. Walking through them made Mitsuhide miss his friends. He thought of Ieyasu and Mitsunari, of how they would enjoy the time to page through these endless shelves of books and scrolls.

He thought too, of his lord, and the oceans of blood they shed to reach this place. This time. Mitsuhide could not help but wonder if there was ever another way to get here, to this, or if war and sacrifice was the only way forward.

It was with these troubling thoughts in mind that he sat down across a desk from two aged men. One of them looked deeply distrustful, while the other seemed excited. The excitable one was Sasuke’s contact, and they greeted each other familiarly before the ninja introduced him.

“Professor Fukuda, this is Akechi Mitsuhide,” Sasuke bowed to his friend. “And this is Professor Sakai.”

The men greeted one another and then the questions began.

“So you claim to be the historical figure, Akechi Mitsuhide? The traitor of the Oda?”

“I do.” Mitsuhide smiled sharply.

The enthusiastic professor Fukuda nodded, interrupting. “No need to be hostile to the man. Just ask your questions. For verification.”

“Hmph. As if I can verify an impossibility. But . . . the other one, Hidemitsu, he was very convincing. Alright.” And he proceeded to ask about minutiae. Random details. The color of this, the material of that, the name of this or that scribe, and so on.

Mitsuhide wore his patient mask. The face of the eager servant, he called it. He answered the questions as fully as he could until finally, the skeptical Sakai ran out of steam.

“Are you satisfied, sir? Do you believe me now?” Sasuke waited for a reply.

“I suppose I have no choice. Besides, Professor Fukuda was showing me the formula for your time travel theorem. I’m no physicist, but it looks solid. And . . . Mister Akechi answered everything correctly. Down to the last detail!”

Mitsuhide took a breath. That was one obstacle down. “Now that I have your confidence, are you willing to make a deal with me?”

Fukuda took a breath. “Sasuke already gave us a list of your needs -”

“Yes. He provided the beginnings of our requirements. There is more.”

“Well? Go on then,” Sakai gestured.

Mitsuhide nodded. “I require unrestricted access to your libraries and data - databases. I will require an assistant to teach me how to navigate your net-work, and may also need to use your laboratories, which you will allow with proper safety measures in place.”

The two professors exchanged a glance and then nodded. “Done. Is that all?”

“No. I’ve one more request. I may at some time, need,” he glanced to Sasuke, fishing for the word from his new vocabulary. “Scholars. Scholars’ ships.”

“Scholarships. For special situation admittance,” the ninja added helpfully.

“Yes, that. Three of them.”

Fukuda leaned forward on his elbows. “Is it for more of you people from the past?”

“No. Let’s say, as a reward of sorts for some of those assisting us. I am not in a position here to offer them places in my retinue or at my castle. But I will provide for them.” Mitsuhide’s eyes were hard. This was not a negotiable point.

“Why not,” Sakai waved toward the window. “We have people drop out of programs all the time from the stress of studies. It shouldn’t be a problem to put three people in.”

Mitsuhide relaxed back into his chair. “Then we have a deal.”

*In IRL history, Miyake marries Mitsuhide's daughter and takes the name Akechi Hidemitsu so I decided to include that tidbit!

Next: In the Spotlight

[herinsectreflection]

Faith, Buffy, Dreams, and Secret Kisses

This is one of my favourite scenes in the series. Partially because it’s just my personal jam - I admit that I am Fuffy trash, and I have a real love for dream sequences. Buffy had great dream sequences, but this is where they take a step up. It’s a precursor to Restless in this regard and others. It feels weighty and meaningful, but also a little off and incongruent with itself, in that way that only dreams are. Lines are exchanged that don’t quite follow as direct responses to each other, clashing in interesting ways. It’s packed with foreshadowing, metaphor, and other juicy things. And beyond that, it’s a conclusion to Buffy’s entire arc this season about dealing with her shadow self, and it leads to what I think is the single most romantic moment in the series. I want to talk about this scene and unpack some of what I think it’s saying.

First of all, let’s talk about the setting. We’re in Faith’s apartment, bought for her by the Mayor. Essentially, the villain’s lair, where the two Big Bads plotted their evil plans against our hero. But it’s also a set where we saw most of the bonding and semi-familial love between Faith and the Mayor. A place of both evil and love. And for Buffy, a place of trauma. This is where she makes the decision and takes the action to kill another human. I don’t think she was unjustified in doing so, but it’s still an immensely traumatic act for her, and I think she loses a little part of herself when she does it. The location is very much a reflection of Faith, and Buffy’s relationship to her. I don’t think Buffy loves Faith romantically at this point, but I think she cares about her, and remains concerned about her, and I think it’s fair to call that a kind of love. Faith is also evil, a figure of betrayal but also temptation to the “dark side”. And she is also a figure of trauma, clear deep-seated trauma that she fails to resolve, and just gets worse over the course of the season. Buffy is essentially inside her own relationship to Faith, inside a stadium of sin, trauma, love, and shattered glass. Faith looks out of the broken window that they fought through, and we are reminded that their relationship too is broken, unrepaired, littered with the detritus of conflict. There’s no going back from this - even in dreams that window remains broken, and their relationship will always have this damage.

The props too are an interesting choice. TPN’s video on Graduation Day pointed out the painting of a giant snake with a man’s head on the wall. More conflicting feelings here - the Mayor is Faith’s closest connection to humanity and love right now, and also the reason for her betrayal of Buffy. Her redemption and damnation. We also see boxes of various things piled up - including the crossbow that Faith stole in Bad Girls. The image of packing up a room into boxes makes me think of moving away as a student. We must remember that Buffy is graduating today, on the verge of packing her life away and taking it somewhere else, and this reminds us of that.

The first thing of real substance we see is the cat, which jumps up on Faith’s bed. This is one of the aspects of this dream in direct conversation with Restless, where a cat symbolises the Slayer - a specifically feminine, solitary predator that stalks the night. In Restless, we cut to Miss Kitty stalking the camera from shots of the First slayer stalking Willow. Here though, the intercut images are between the cat and Faith, lying bruised and helpless in a hospital. The cat (and the Slayer) is, as far as Buffy is concerned, not a danger but a creature in need of help.

Buffy: "Who's going to look after him?" Faith: "It's a she. And aren't these things supposed to take care of themselves?"

They’re very clearly talking about their respective approaches to slaying, and to life in general. Buffy tries to encourage ties to humanity, telling Faith back in Revelations that she is on Faith’s side. Faith retorts that she alone is on her side, and she repeats that sentiment here. But Buffy is obviously proved right - Faith is lying almost dead because she rejected all help and care.

Buffy: "A higher power guiding us?" Faith: "I'm pretty sure that's not what I meant."

If the cat is the Slayer in this conversation, then the “higher power guiding us” could refer to the Watchers. It makes sense that Buffy delivers this line with a little wry smile, given that she’s just resigned herself from the Council. This allows a little bit of ambiguity in their debate - Buffy has taken on a little bit of Faith’s advice in emancipating herself and so making herself as the Slayer more self-reliant. The show agrees that that too is the right move. A little independence is good and healthy. What Faith means when she talks about “taking care of herself” is not self-reliance or independence, but emotional hardness and self-marooning to avoid hurt. This is something that Buffy will continue to struggle with for the rest of the series. Faith is kind of right when she states that the Slayer is alone and must take care of herself, and it’s up to Buffy to find a healthy way of dealing with that.

"Oh yeah. Miles to go - Little Miss Muffet counting down from 7-3-0.”

The scene shifts a little, and we get some foreshadowing for Dawn (Little Miss Muffet), and for Buffy’s death (730 days from now). This is done with the the lighting too, as Faith faces the camera, and the light of the dawn hits her face, in a shot extremely similar to the end of The Gift.

Interestingly, Faith is repeatedly used in this way. In This Year’s Girl, Faith talks about “little sis coming” as she and Buffy make the bed in her first dream. In Restless, that scene gets a callback (”Faith and I just made that bed”), in a scene that ends with the most anvilicious foreshadowing (”Be back before dawn”), as well as a callback to the 7-3-0 line (”Oh, that clock’s all wrong”). In Graduation Day, Faith refers to Buffy as being “dressed up in big sister’s clothes”, however to me Faith has always felt more as being the “little sister” in this relationship. She looks up to Buffy yet is also deeply jealous of her. She wants to be Buffy, to have her friends, her life, the love of her mother. She’s kind of a precursor to Dawn in this respect, so it makes sense that she’s a prophet for her coming.

Slayers having prophetic dreams is well-established, so it makes sense that a dream shared by two slayers would allow them to prophesise a little further ahead in time. Faith hints at this, remarking "Sorry, it's my head. A lot of new stuff.". You have to wonder what other “new stuff” Faith is becoming aware of. Perhaps a new perspective on everything Buffy’s been saying all season. Sharing a mind temporarily is often helpful in seeing another’s point of view. Faith does seem unusually thoughtful as she looks out of the broken window and remarks "They are never going to fix this, are they?".

This is perhaps my favourite line in the scene. It’s a slight mislead, as it comes right as we get a flash of the cat-as-Faith in the foreground. So we assume it’s a reference to her own injuries, which she is expected to never recover from.

But the Faith that’s talking isn’t looking at her own body. She’s looking at the broken window. The symbol for her broken relationship with Buffy. She has become us, the audience, looking at Buffy and Faith and saying “boy, those crazy kids really are never going to work it out, are they?”. It’s true for Faith, it’s true for Faith&Buffy, and it’s true for Buffy herself. When that knife entered Faith’s gut, all three were irrevocably changed forever. You can never put back the life you had before after it’s broken like that. All you can do is take what you can work with, and try to make something new.

Buffy: "What about you?" Faith: "Scar tissue. It fades. It all fades." Buffy confirms that the previous line was not about Faith specifically by asking “what about you”, in a lovely expression of concern. After everything, Buffy does still care about Faith. Faith’s reply of “scar tissue” is an obvious reference to the literal wound she is now carrying (emphasised by the shot of the knife that Buffy sees afterwards), but it’s interesting that she gestures to her face when she says this. It feels like a reference to her entire self. If we accept Faith as Buffy’s shadow self, then “scar tissue” is an accurate description of her. As Buffy herself says, Faith is who she could be if her life was worse (or, perhaps, who she would be if she allowed the tragedies of her life to rule her). She is the part of Buffy’s unconscious self that is revealed after receiving violence. She is the physical proof of trauma. The self that remains after pain. 

Buffy: “Is this your mind or mine?” Again, hitting that note of symbiosis; emphasising how inextricably tied these two characters are. The lines between their psyches are blurred to the point of no longer existing. This is such an intimate moment, almost sexual, with Buffy and Faith unable to tell where their own mind ends and another begins. Imagine the intimacy of that - entering another’s mental space and allowing them into yours, so wholly that they become one and the same. It becomes a mutual recognition of unity and shared pain, and an affirmation of the eternal divisions between them.

I love the ambiguity of the “human weakness” line too. One way we are invited to read it is that Faith is doing a heel-face turn, and intentionally giving Buffy the means to defeat the Mayor. But we’re not allowed anything that easy, to wash away Faith’s sins with a quick redemption before the climax. Faith has miles to go before she can achieve that. It’s just as likely that Faith is talking about herself, and the human weakness that led her down a dark path, or that Buffy is talking about Faith through the Faith in her head, or Buffy is just working it out on her own, etc, etc. This is the information that saves the world, and I like that it remains an unknown. A permanent “maybe”, just as Buffy and Faith’s relationship is. 

Buffy: "How are you going to fit all this stuff?" Faith: "Not gonna. It's yours." Buffy: "I can't use all of this!" Faith: "Just take what you need. You're ready?"

As the scene reaches its climax, we see the most obvious recitation of the season’s themes. S3 is about Buffy coming into conflict with her own shadow self, and here the show tells us how she does that - by taking what she needs. I mentioned earlier that we saw the crossbow from Bad Girls, from the “want/take/have” scene. Here, Faith is telling her the same thing, but in a more healthy way. She cannot just hedonistically consume everything like a crazed id-monster, but she also cannot deny herself things that she needs. 

Most importantly, the “stuff” they are referring to is Faith’s, but as Faith says, it’s also Buffy’s. Everything that Faith is, Buffy is too, because she is her shadow self. Buffy must recognise this, accept it, and incorporate the shadow self into her own identity. She cannot be consumed by the shadow self and simply become Faith, allowing her shadow to consume her conscious personality (”how are you going to fit all this stuff?”). Instead she must recognise her dark mirror, and take the healthy parts, and integrate them into herself as an individual (”take what you need”).

It is at this point of healing and merging between Buffy’s self and shadow self that Faith reaches out, almost touches her in an action that feels so tender, and Buffy becomes conscious. She literally becomes her conscious self by making peace with her dream (unconscious self). She stands up, and walks over to Faith’s bed. This is the moment that their relationship all season has been leading to. She leans over, and places a kiss on her forehead.

This kiss is everything. It’s an act of thanks, as Buffy realises Faith may have given her what she needs to save the day (at the cost of Faith’s one familial figure). It is an act of service, as Buffy literally gives Faith the kiss she asked for when they started to fight in Graduation Day. It could also be an act of forgiveness. We know from I Only Have Eyes For You that forgiveness, Buffy learns, is done not because somebody deserves it, but because they need it. Faith at this point probably does not deserve it, does not want forgiveness (she wants to be punished), nor can she recognise it in her current state, but Buffy gives it anyway, adding another layer of heartbreak. It is given not for any purpose, but for its own sake.

Above all though, this is an act of recognition. We must consider the previous forehead-kiss that these two shared, back in Enemies, and Faith’s words directly before: “What are you gonna do, B, kill me? You become me. You're not ready for that, yet.” And in Graduation Day, just after Buffy stabs her: “You did it. You killed me.” And her words in the dream, just a few seconds ago: “You're ready?"

Now I don’t think that Buffy stabbing Faith to save Angel is morally equivalent to Faith voluntarily killing people to help an evil guy become a big snake. I don’t think the show wants us to think that either. But the line is firmly blurred. Angel says in Consequences that the act of taking a life will change Faith irrevocably, and Faith agrees. She sees herself as tainted from that point on, and if Buffy took her life, she would be tainted too. And though it’s understandable and morally defensible, there’s no doubt that a part of Buffy - her innocence - dies on that balcony when she sticks that knife in. That act is forever. The choice to do violence is permanent. 

So when Faith says “you killed me”, she is saying “you have become me”. She identifies a common nature in them. And when Buffy kisses her, returning it in the exact same way as when Faith first said those words, she is saying “I know”. She recognises and responds to Faith’s mirror by holding up one of her own. She matches similarity with similarity. She is finally “ready” to assimilate her shadow self, and does it by telling her shadow self that she sees her, and that she was right. 

The beautiful part of all this is that it is silent. Faith would’ve been aware of their unification in the dreamscape, since it was happening in both of their heads, but she has no way of knowing about this. I wonder if Buffy would ever tell her. I doubt it. This is the core of the Faith/Buffy tragedy. This is why I find this relationship so compelling. Buffy performs this act of recognition and devotion entirely in secret. It is a stolen kiss and a private confession. A whisper made to a sleeping lover. A letter written, sealed, stamped, and set on fire. It is an act of love and tenderness made entirely for its own sake, without witness or reward. 

This is the single most romantic moment of the show for me. In this show that in many ways about how when nothing you do matters, all that matters is what you do, what could be more romantic than this gentle kiss that changes nothing against this aching hole of violence and betrayal between them, but exists anyway, just because Buffy felt it needed to be done. It’s a silent moment that nobody but Buffy and us are privy to. Neither Faith nor the rest of the world will ever know it happened, but I know I for one will never forget.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars XCV (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: TODAY IS THE DAY I SEND MY LAST ESSAY PLS PRAY SO I CAN BE FREE -Danny

Words: 3,601

Series’ Masterlist

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Chapter Thirty: Through a Darker Standpoint.

"Is something on your mind, dear girl?" Dumbledore asked attentively.

Mel was writing down their last lesson before going back to her common room. Dumbledore told her this was the final class they'd be having that trimester, and she was deep in thought, her eyes fixed on Fawkes.

"No..." She said. "Well, yes..."

"You want to ask me–?"

"Did you mean it when you say you'd help me to become an animagus?" She looked away from the bird and directly into his eyes. "Or were you just humouring me?"

"Was I humouring you when I agreed to give you lessons?"

"No," She pointed to her notes. "Clearly..."

"I'll help with your education as animagus as much as I'm helping you with this," Dumbledore looked at her over his glasses. "Patience is a virtue, and learning will often require for you to wait."

"I know that it's just..." She shook her head. "I don't know, maybe I'm exhausted. I could use a break."

"I hope you find it refreshing. Anything else?"

Mel gave up, she closed her notebook and put down her quill.

"Is the third task harder than the others?"

"I see," He smiled. "Harry's done a remarkable job, Mel. I wouldn't worry about how things will turn out, the task, once over, it's over for good."

"But are you sure?"

There was a glint in Dumbledore's eyes that gave away his amusement. "You care a lot, don't you?"

"Some may say more than what's necessary..." She grumbled.

"There's no such thing as caring too much about a loved one's safety. I would've done anything to keep my sister safe. Wanting our family to be happy is the main reason why we do the impossible, isn't it? You more than anyone should know, dear girl."

There was always that uneasy feeling questioning how much was she truly prepared to face danger. One day, there was going to be no Albus Dumbledore to tell her what to do, just her and her skills. Mel could only hope that'd be enough.

"You two are to go down to the Quidditch field tonight at nine o'clock," McGonagall told them after the last lesson of the week. "Mr Bagman will be there to tell the champions about the third task."

When Harry and Mel made their way to the entrance, Cedric and Erick appeared from their respective passages. The latter threw a knowing smile their way that she ignored.

"What d'you reckon it's going to be?" Cedric asked Harry as they all went together to the Quidditch Field. "Fleur keeps going on about underground tunnels; she reckons we've got to find treasure."

"That wouldn't be too bad," Harry shrugged.

"Guess?" Erick nudged her arm playfully.

"Your brother moved out?" She ventured.

"I wish! No, my grandad wrote to me yesterday. He's coming to see the third task!"

"Oh... I didn't know others could come to see it!"

"I don't know if it's exactly allowed," Erick looked ahead, frowning a little. "He used his 'this is my last chance' speech, Dumbledore welcomed him with open arms."

"What've they done to it?" They heard Cedric's voice ahead, Mel finally looked toward the field and let out a tiny gasp.

The Quidditch field was no longer smooth and flat. It looked as though somebody had been building long, low walls all over it that twisted and crisscrossed in every direction.

"They're hedges!" said Harry, bending to examine the nearest one.

"Hello, there!" called a cheery voice.

"If you ask me," The corner of Erick's lips were up, holding back a smirk. "This is an improvement."

Mel hushed him before Harry could hear him, the boy was a huge Quidditch fan and still didn't like Flint, so Erick had to be careful.

Ludo Bagman waved at them to get closer, Krum and Fleur were there. As they grew nearer Mel noticed the radiant smile Fleur was giving Harry. She knew this was mostly thanks to Harry's act during the second task, Fleur was showing a new attitude of camaraderie that Mel thought it suited her. If she could keep it up and not complain about Hogwarts and their food, Mel figured she could even be a great friend.

"Well, what d'you think?" Bagman inquired as they finally reached them. "Growing nicely, aren't they? Give them a month and Hagrid'll have them twenty feet high. Don't worry, you'll have your Quidditch field back to normal once the task is over!" Erick gave a quiet 'hurray' that sounded nothing but sarcastic, Harry heard it. "Now, I imagine you can guess what we're making here?"

"Maze," Krum replied lowly.

"That's right! A maze. The third task's really very straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the center of the maze. The first champion to touch it will receive full marks."

"We seemply 'ave to get through the maze?" said Fleur.

"There will be obstacles. Hagrid is providing a number of creatures... then there will be spells that must be broken... all that sort of thing, you know. Now, the champions who are leading on points will get a head start into the maze. Then Mr Krum will enter... then Miss Delacour. But you'll all be in with a fighting chance, depending on how well you get past the obstacles. Should be fun, eh?"

Harry, Mel and Erick shared a knowing look, Hagrid's creatures didn't sound fun at all when you were acquainted with them.

"Very well... if you haven't got any questions, we'll go back up to the castle, shall we, it's a bit chilly..."

"I have one," Mel said. "How are we going to keep a record on the champions, I mean, what if one of them gets hurt?"

"Members of the school's staff, as well as Mr Flint and you, will be helping around the maze, there's no use on explaining everything now but rest assured, Miss Dumbledore. There won't be any major risks."

Bagman attempted once again to have a private word with Harry, but Krum got there first. Mel came into a halt a few feet away, as well as Bagman and Erick.

"Could I haff a vord?" She heard Krum ask.

"Yeah, all right," said Harry, his brow raising a little and glancing at her for just a second.

"Vill you valk vith me?"

"Okay..."

"I'll wait for you, Harry, shall I?" Bagman frowned, a little nervous.

"No, it's okay, Mr Bagman, I think I can find the castle on my own, thanks," said Harry, trying to keep as a straight face, then turned to Mel. "Really. You and Flint can keep going too, I'll see you back in the tower."

Mel nodded, Erick grabbed her by the arm gently and pulled her along.

"C'mon," He said quietly. "Probably just looking for relationship advice..."

"From Harry?" Mel snorted, her arm slipping from the boy's grip. "Why would he do that? No one knows about us, not even Hermione so I don't see how Krum would–"

"'Oh, I have a question Mr Bagman, how will I know my boyfriend's safe?'" Erick mocked her. "'How can I physically walk away without having a crisis?'"

"That's not how I sound! And that was a fair question!"

"All I'm saying is that everyone knows, or at least suspects, that there's something between you two. You look insufferable happy all the time, I guess Krum wants to know how you do it."

"Because we're friends," Mel rolled her eyes at the expression on the boy's face. "I mean, we were best friends before we... I don't know, before we became this."

"Before you started dating," Erick nodded.

"I don't know if we're dating," Mel replied stiffly. "We don't go out alone, and when we do we have to be discrete so Skeeter can't have a reliable source. According to Harry, this is so I don't get myself in danger as it happened to Hermione. According to me... well, I can't help but think it's a bit like in my novels, you know?  Keeping things between us kind of makes it more romantical."

"I think I puked a little in my mouth," He scrunched up his nose.

"Hey, you asked!" Mel argued. "What were you expecting me to say? 'Oh yeah, kissing Harry is the most boring thing I've ever done in my life'..."

"I can't take that image out of my mind now, thank you."

"Stop being so whiny," She protested. "Is not my fault that you–"

She stopped short, knowing it was a sensitive subject and it could cause a big fight if not treated carefully.

"That I what?" He halted. "Say it."

Instead of finishing her sentence, Mel sat down upon the front steps of the castle's entrance and sighed. "I'm tired of arguing with you, Flint. If I'm honest, I'm sick of having to walk on my tiptoes and hold back my comments every time we speak."

"This is you holding back?"

"I mean whenever we talk about you," She raised a brow. "I don't have a problem telling you to sod off, but when it's about you it's like you don't want me to know anything. I almost had to force out your Grandad's name out of your mouth!"

"I don't understand. What is your problem?"

"Every wrong thing I say you immediately take it as an opportunity to run off and cut the conversation short. You know everything about me, why are you still acting like I'm not a safe person to talk to?"

For a moment he did look like he was about to ignore her question. His shoulders tensed and he looked away, reluctant to speak. Then, after ten awful seconds, he sat down beside her and let out a quiet groan.

"Think I liked you better when you were tinier and afraid of me..."

"I wasn't afraid," She stated. "I did think you were a bit intimidating, though..."

"S'not that I don't trust you. I've never... I'm not used to talking about what upsets me and when you insist that I should tell you– I... I get frustrated. It's exasperating, not knowing how to express my feelings."

"You, at a loss of words?" Mel smiled shyly.

"Yeah, shocking," He chuckled. "I made bad some decisions and now I'm surrounded by a bunch of gits. I know you want to see it as this endless world of possibilities, that if we try hard enough and live our lives how we want to, no one can hurt us– but is not like that... not for the most of us. You want to live in a fairytale, but all we have is this," He gestured around vaguely. "You and I, and a few people that don't think we're crazy."

"We should be allowed to live as we want, do what we want, and be with who we love! I don't get it– why is it so hard for the rest to understand?" Mel replied heatedly.

Erick stared at her with a funny look in his eyes. "You know, I did tell Joseph you're the smartest witch in school. I know you are, but sometimes your emotions stop you from being even better."

"You sound like my uncle," She scoffed. "I know I'm fickle and impulsive–"

"I didn't mean it like that," He interrupted. "You try to see everything through a gentle perspective, which makes it impossible for you to have a clear view... growing up sucks Mel, I know it as much as you do," He stood up and offered his hand, "we have to do it anyway though, and if you do it, you'll see how hard it's to choose based on how you feel instead of what's suitable."

The Slytherin gazed at her with a hint of something she'd never seen before, almost... pitiful. Mel took his hand and stood up, she felt disheartened by their talk, but there was no easy way to convince Erick to change his mind and there was certainly no way she would change hers. She figured that eventually, one of them would be proven wrong.

It was hard to see this nostalgic version of Erick as the same cold, sarcastic boy she was used to, it was hard to look into his eyes and see how much he looked like he was thousands of years older.

"You and Anne..." She mentioned as they reached the marble staircase. "You've made up your mind, then?"

"There's nothing to decide," He shrugged. "She'll do her life and I'll do mine, if I find a way to be together I'll take it but if not... I'm not going to regret a thing."

Mel wanted to say that he couldn't be sure about that but decided to keep it for herself, there'd been enough discouraging words that night for the both of them, and she didn't want to give him a reason to keep going.

Just as she was reaching the second floor Harry came rushing towards her, he didn't slow down when he saw her, just yelled 'Mr. Crouch appeared!' and kept going.

Mel ran after him without hesitation, she and Harry reached Dumbledore's office and yelled the password, however, it looked like it had changed since the last time she and Dumbledore held her last lesson because the gargoyle didn't move at all.

"C'mon!" Harry yelled in exasperation, running a hand through his hair.

"Harry, what's wrong?" She asked in alarm.

"The staffroom," He said in quiet realization, turning around and starting to run once more.

They were midway to the stairs when Snape found them.

"POTTER! DUMBLEDORE!" He ordered them to get closer and so they did. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to see Professor Dumbledore!" Harry, gasping for air. "It's Mr Crouch... he's just turned up... he's in the forest... he's asking —"

"What is this rubbish?" said Snape. "What are you talking about?"

He looked at Mel for an explanation but Mel didn't know what was happening either, Harry insisted in an angry tone.

"Mr Crouch! From the Ministry! He's ill or something — he's in the forest, he wants to see Dumbledore! Just give me the password up to —"

"The headmaster is busy," said Snape, smiling as if denying Harry of a simple favour was making him happier than it should.

"I've got to tell Dumbledore!"

"Didn't you hear me, Potter?"

"Look," Harry continued, almost growling, "Crouch isn't right — he's — he's out of his mind — he says he wants to warn —"

"Is there a problem?" Dumbledore appeared from behind Snape, looking at them curiously.

"Professor! Mr Crouch is here — he's down in the forest, he wants to speak to you!"

"Lead the way," Dumbledore said.

Mel was thankful Dumbledore was Headmaster and not Snape, even if she didn't know what was going on, she figured Snape would rather see them in distress than tend their emergencies.

"What did Mr Crouch say, Harry?" Dumbledore asked as they approached the staircase again.

"Said he wants to warn you... said he's done something terrible... he mentioned his son... and Bertha Jorkins... and — and Voldemort... something about Voldemort getting stronger..."

"Indeed," Dumbledore walked faster alongside them.

"He's not acting normally, he doesn't seem to know where he is. He keeps talking like he thinks Percy Weasley's there, and then he changes and says he needs to see you... I left him with Viktor Krum."

"You did?" He sounded almost alarmed now. "Do you know if anybody else saw Mr Crouch?"

"No, Krum and I were talking, Mr Bagman had just finished telling us about the third task so Mel and Erick were long gone as well, Krum and I stayed behind, and then we saw Mr Crouch coming out of the forest —"

"Where are they?" Dumbledore looked blindly in the darkness.

"Over here," Harry guided them to the edge of the forest. He called out for Viktor, but no one answered. "They were here... They were definitely somewhere around here..."

He sounded worried and scared, Mel got closer as Dumbledore conjured light from his wand and looked around. There was a body there. Mel stopped breathing for a moment while Harry and Dumbledore reached forward to check on Krum.

"Stunned," Dumbledore said simply.

"Should I go and get someone? Madam Pomfrey?"

"No," Dumbledore turned to look at her and said. "Stay here. Wake him up."

He pointed it in the direction of Hagrid's cabin with his wand. The faint shape of a phoenix made its way through the air as Mel kneeled next to Krum and whispered 'Rennervate'. Krum tried to sit up, but Dumbledore put a hand on his shoulder to keep him on the grass.

"He attacked me! The old madman attacked me! I vos looking around to see vare Potter had gone and he attacked from behind!"

"Lie still for a moment," Dumbledore ordered gently.

Hagrid appeared, carrying his crossbow.

"Professor Dumbledore! Mel! Harry — what the — ?"

"Hagrid, I need you to fetch Professor Karkaroff. His student has been attacked. When you've done that, kindly alert Professor Moody —"

"No need, Dumbledore," said a voice from behind them. "I'm here. Damn leg! Would've been here quicker... what's happened? Snape said something about Crouch —"

"Crouch?"

"Karkaroff, please, Hagrid!" Dumbledore repeated.

"Oh yeah... right y'are, Professor..."

"I don't know where Barty Crouch is," Dumbledore told Moody, "but it is essential that we find him."

"I'm onto it," Moody headed off into the forest.

Mel stayed next to Krum and checked the back of his head for injuries, fortunately, he was completely fine, just a little dizzy from the fall.

"What is this?" Karkaroff walked up to them, his eyes blazing with anger. "What's going on?"

"I vos attacked!" said Krum. "Mr Crouch or votever his name —"

"Crouch attacked you? Crouch attacked you? The Triwizard judge?"

"Igor..."

"Treachery! It is a plot! You and your Ministry of Magic have lured me here under false pretenses, Dumbledore! This is not an equal competition! First you sneak Potter into the tournament, though he is underage! Now one of your Ministry friends attempts to put my champion out of action! I smell double-dealing and corruption in this whole affair, and you, Dumbledore, you, with your talk of closer international wizarding links, of rebuilding old ties, of forgetting old differences — here's what I think of you!"

Karkaroff spat onto the ground at Dumbledore's feet. In one swift movement, Hagrid seized the front of Karkaroff's furs, lifted him into the air, and slammed him against a nearby tree.

"Apologize!" Hagrid snarled as Karkaroff gasped for breath, Hagrid's massive fist at his throat, his feet dangling in midair.

"Hagrid, no!" Dumbledore shouted, his eyes flashing.

Hagrid removed the hand pinning Karkaroff to the tree, and Karkaroff slid all the way down the trunk and slumped in a huddle at its roots; a few twigs and leaves showered down upon his head.

"Kindly escort Harry and Mel back up to the castle, Hagrid," Dumbledore told him sternly.

"Maybe I'd better stay here, Headmaster..." Hagrid said, glaring at Karkaroff.

"You will take them back to school, Hagrid. Take them right up to Gryffindor Tower. And I want you two to stay there. Anything you might want to do — any owls you might want to send — they can wait until morning, do you understand me?"

"Er — yes," said Harry, staring at him.

Mel felt a bit of a chill run up her spine at the idea that her uncle could read their thoughts. Because she was certain that Harry had been planning to write Sirius about this.

"Very well," Dumbledore looked directly at her then. "You did a good job watching after Mr Krum, Mel. Now watch after yourself." She nodded, too shocked to speak against him, her nerves completely messed up after that experience.

"I'll leave Fang with yeh, Headmaster," Hagrid said. "Stay, Fang. C'mon, kids."

After a while walking in silence, Hagrid spoke up again.

"How dare he accuse Dumbledore. Like Dumbledore'd do anythin' like that. Like Dumbledore wanted you in the tournament in the firs' place. Worried! I dunno when I seen Dumbledore more worried than he's bin lately. An' you!" He turned to them angrily, they stepped back in surprise, Mel holding tightly onto Harry. "What were yeh doin', wanderin' off with ruddy Krum? He's from Durmstrang, Harry! Coulda jinxed yeh right there, couldn' he? Hasn' Moody taught yeh nothin'? 'Magine lettin' him lure yeh off on yer own —"

"Krum's all right!" He exclaimed. "He wasn't trying to jinx me, he just wanted to talk about Hermione —"

"I'll be havin' a few words with her, an' all," said Hagrid not listening. "The less you lot 'ave ter do with these foreigners, the happier yeh'll be. Yeh can' trust any of 'em."

"You were getting on all right with Madame Maxime," Harry said in a bad mood.

"Don' you talk ter me abou' her!" Hagrid yelled. When he saw the look on their faces, he lowered his voice. "I've got her number now! Tryin' ter get back in me good books, tryin' ter get me ter tell her what's comin' in the third task. Ha! You can' trust any of 'em!"

Harry and Mel shared a grim look without saying anything. He reached for the hand that was still firmly closed around his arm and held it, squeezing a bit to calm her down. It worked until they reached the tower, where Hagrid finally left them safe and sound. As soon as they were in Harry dragged her to where Ron and Hermione were sitting.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha​ @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere​ @t-rexs-world

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

July Visitation - Say Cheese!

It’s summer, your hat is on backwards, and it’s time to visit Yancy!

Word Count: 1,804

(This month’s fic implies a romantic relationship between Reader and Yancy.)

-

Warden Murder-Slaughter had arranged something quite special for Visitation Day this month. On account of protesting and begging from the prisoners, he arranged for visits to take place outside in a quiet section of the larger rec yard since the weather was so nice lately. However, only prisoners who had a clean sheet of record for the past month could avail of this. As Yancy explained in a letter to you, he had been working hard to keep out of trouble because he wanted to show you the rec yard. After how close he was to landing in trouble last month, it certainly was a welcome relief to know he was feeling like himself again. Not only that, you received an email on Friday explaining the procedure for the outdoor visit on Sunday, which only proved Yancy did indeed stick to his word and kept out of trouble! There would be a small area cordoned off for prisoners and visitors to talk, but guards would be nearby. The usual rules would still apply. 

You quickly sent a reply asking if you could bring in your new camera. It wasn’t part of your phone.

To your delight, they said yes.

You didn’t consider yourself a photographer, but you recently came into possession of a polaroid camera that had a small mirror on the front of it. Your plan was simple: get a selfie with Yancy that you could keep with you no matter what. In fact, you wanted TWO selfies so he could keep one too! Being outside meant that you could find the perfect backdrop together!

--

Once Sunday rolled by, you prepared your bag with the usual things, along with the camera and some spare film. You learned fast that having too much film was a wise decision. You were spoiled with the camera on your phone and the ability to delete and retake at will. Every photo on your camera had to be perfect. In a way, it was almost like a little challenge to get the positioning just right.

Before you could step outside, the two guards at the door checked your bag again. As it turned out, they had heard someone was taking a camera in and wanted a photo, something you agreed to with amusement. You left them to bicker over which of them got to keep the one print and went to find Yancy. He had claimed a spot under a tree, a small distance away from everyone else. It seemed like he had gotten himself comfortable waiting for you with his hands resting behind his head, only to doze off.

Naturally, you snapped a photo of this before sitting down beside him. You let the photo develop and tucked it away while he was unaware you were there. Better to not embarrass him with that. Putting your bag beside you and your camera on your lap, you nestled beside Yancy. Immediately, an arm was wrapped around your shoulder as he tugged you a little closer.

“Think we could get away with napping together instead?” He sounded tired, but you could see that familiar grin creeping onto his face. Both eyes slowly opened, and you couldn’t stop the smile at seeing that bright spark. “Ain’t like we’s able to go anywhere. But I managed to snag my fave spot in the whole yard. This tree’s where youse can catch a nap, or hide from the heat. I tried climbing it twice before, but I got in trouble the first time an’ twisted my ankle after I fell from a branch the second time. That one overhead, see? Nurse said it was a miracle I didn’t break nothing.” The two of you sat up as he began regaling the adventures of climbing the tree as part of a race with Sparkles McGee. There was excitement in his voice as his hands gestured to amplify the thrill of the competition and a recreation of the eventual fall.

“- Oh, yeah, sorry. I’m kinda ramblin’ now. I never thought I’d get to see youse outside the visiting room, y’know? I get so many ideas of things to talk ‘bout out here where I can see more. Like this tree, or the basketball court, or the weights, or… The thing on youse’s lap?” He glanced down as you lifted up the camera. It was easier to explain it as you handed it to him and showed him how it worked. With a little guidance, he was able to take a photo of you.

“So then youse gotta go get this developed right? There’s still a few photos to -” The camera began printing the photo, stunning Yancy into silence. Once it was ready, you swiftly yanked it out and placed the print on his knee, instructing him to wait. It didn’t stay there long, as Yancy instead plucked it into his hands for a closer look. As the first signs of colour began to appear, realisation hit. “Oh yeah! This is one of them cameras that prints straight away! One of them.. A, uh… -”  Polaroid?  “Yeah! A polaroid! I didn’t think these were a thing no more. Weren’t these around in the eighties an’ shit?” Admittedly, you didn’t know the history of the polaroid, but you were able to explain that they’ve become popular again. In fact, they’re probably cheaper to own than they used to be because it’s likely easier to make the film. As you mentioned it, Yancy’s gaze dropped to the photo, beaming as he could make out your face appearing on it.

“Aw, youse has got such a perfect smile. Here.” He offered it to you. You placed a hand on his and insisted he could keep it. After all, that’s why you brought it in. To make memories both could keep this month! A simple action took him by surprise, but not as much as you explaining the purpose of the camera this month. Sure, you had to sidetrack to explain what a ‘selfie’ was, but he was quickly onboard with the plan. The first selfie went very well. You pointed out the little mirror and showed him how best to hold the camera so you could still press the shutter button. It was almost like a selfie masterclass.

“Wait. Wouldn’t it be easier to ask someone else to take it?”

You gave him a deadpan look and pointed out that defeated the entire purpose of a selfie. Besides, you were becoming an expert in polaroid selfies. You wrapped your free arm around his neck and pulled him close just in time for the camera to click. Resisting the urge to laugh at Yancy’s reaction to the flash, you instead carefully tugged the photo out once it was printed.

“And now we waits.” Yancy, who was rubbing life back into one eye, peered at it expectantly. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before both of you could see yourselves appear as the print developed, and it was enough to spark an idea. “Hey, can I try? My arm is a bit longer, so I should be able to get that perfect shot!” Delighted at his enthusiasm, you hand over the camera with no hesitation. His right arm slipped down to your waist to keep you close, while his attention was on his left arm and holding the camera just right. You were granted a moment to appreciate how handsome he looked while concentrating on a task. Chocolate eyes intently focused on the positioning of his hand and ensuring he was not going to drop it. His jaw was set and lips pursed with determination. It made you wonder if he was like this when problem-solving normally. You wouldn’t complain to see this side of him more often.

“And… There. I think we’re ready. Youse good?” You nod and move a little closer. Just as he pressed the button, you turned your head to place a kiss on his cheek. The flash went, and he threw you an accusatory look as the photo printed. “What was that for? Youse was s’posed to smile like last time! See?”  The previous photo, now finished developing, was lifted as proof of what you were ‘meant’ to do. You simply shrugged and took the camera back, handing him the new print that now belonged to him. At first, Yancy grumbled, saying that it wasn’t fair that he’d end up with the blurry photo. But that argument fizzled out as he realised that not only did the photo not blur, it was actually a rather cute photo of a young couple in love. Perhaps it was cliché, but you didn’t imagine Yancy would complain too much. Judging by how his expression became a little bashful, you were right. Silence briefly fell as you both watched the photo come to life. You had to admit, he had a good knack for photography after all.

“Hey… I was meaning to say it in a letter to youse, but I asked the Warden ‘bout getting some sorta conjugal time. It’d only be for an afternoon or something every now and then but… Would youse be okay if I put youse down as the person I’d wanna spend that time with?” You felt your heart backflip in your chest. With Yancy in prison, this was the closest he could get to asking you out on a date. Of course you would accept this offer! “Yes! I, uh… I mean, That’s great. Dunno why I thought youse wouldn’t wanna do that. It ain’t like I’m looking for anything big or nothing! It’d be nice to spend some time with youse away from all this, so we’s can talk, or have something to eat together, or…”

Or nap together? A simple way to finish his sentence, you thought. His gaze lifted to you with a light chuckle. “Yeah. Or nap together. I mean, ‘specially since it feels right having you in my arms like this. Better than I coulda hoped.” Your solution to this was to sidle in closer and rest your head against his shoulder. It was the right decision, judging by how he immediately kept you close. 

You two spent some time idly chatting curled up like this, but it soon faded to silence. Not because you ran out of things to say, but because both of you had managed to doze off. One of the guards patrolling the visitor’s corner of the rec yard noticed this. Rather than waking you both up, they instead lifted the polaroid camera that had fallen onto the grass and snapped two photos of the lovebirds asleep under the tree. Both the camera and the photos were left for you to find when you would eventually wake up. But for now, you slept soundly in the comfort of the arms of the man you loved.

[flameraven]

Good Omens Fic Rec Masterpost - Part Two

 Hello hello I have read MANY MORE fics in this fandom now so it’s time to add on to my previous recs. Part One can be found here: https://flameraven.tumblr.com/post/187742832545/good-omens-fic-recs-masterpost General info! No fics rated higher than M, and that’s usually for violence not sex. I headcanon the husbands as being in an asexual relationship, so any fics I rec will have no sex, or only have sexy stuff alluded to or briefly mentioned.

The Soft Zone (TM)

all the days - G / darcylindbergh

War of Attrition- G / out_there / 8k - 3 gifts Crowley gives Aziraphale

A Meddling of Houseplants - T/ wingedspirit / 6k - Ophelia (a peace lily) is tired of Crowley and Aziraphale’s hopeless pining, and takes matters into her own leaves.

Sweetest in the Gale - T / wingedspirit / 3.8k - Gabriel can sense Aziraphale’s love for Crowley, and confronts “Aziraphale” about it before his execution

Deck the Halls - G / forthegreatergood / 18k - two idiots attempt to acquire mistletoe for the holidays in order to convey their feelings for the other.

Tartan Wrapping Paper - G / Arej / 2k - Crowley may not have quite gotten the message about the tartan all those years ago

a prize-winning philodendron - G / Elsajeni / <1k - Crowley does look, and sighs heavily. “Angel,” he says, “of all the plants you could have tried keeping, why did you start with something this fussy?”

Silver and Gold - G / asparkofgoodness / 1.5k - Crowley buys a ring.

Futile Devices - G / ticketybye / 3k - Yes, Crowley has imagined. He has craved. But being in Aziraphale’s close proximity has had to be enough. He’s not even sure he deserves that. But this, this feels like it felt to be commissioned the stars. It feels like being entrusted with something precious and fragile.

The Weight of Words Unspoken - G / rattatatosk / 1.8k - Aziraphale has always hinted to Crowley when he needed to leave. After the Apoca-wasn’t, he asks Crowley to stay.

J’Aime (I Love) - G / yourpaceangel - Crowley is searching for what the ‘J’ means.

the other way round - G / darcylindbergh / <1k - Aziraphale gets hair pets for once.

Take My Hand (Take My Whole Life Too) - G / soft_october / 1.5k - Crowley is trying not to go to fast, ends up stalled out completely. Aziraphale decides he will have to get creative. 

In Good Hands - G / Sunjinjo / 14k - Aziraphale was created wearing a golden ring. It’s now the last remaining aspect of his original attire.One day, he tries to take it off. The rest follows naturally. (Marriage Proposal)

One Golden Glance (Of What Should Be) - G / Sunjinjo / 8.5k - Crowley takes up painting after the Apocalypse.

Misfit / Safe Haven - G / Mothfluff / 2k - Aziraphale provides a safe space for the Soho queer community to gather

seasons, changes - G / the_pen_is_mightier / 2k - In the autumn Aziraphale and Crowley go out apple picking.

on the necessity of a temptation - M / darcylindbergh / 4.5k - Crowley squinted at him. He said, slowly, as if sounding around the words [...] “But doing things is what we do. Why would—what would be the point of me being here otherwise?”

In Other Words, Baby, Kiss Me - T / mikkimouse / 4.5k - Five times Aziraphale kissed Crowley and one time Crowley (finally) kissed him back.

It's Getting Hard, This Holding Back - T / ZehWulf / 13k - Crowley decides to lure Aziraphale into Explicit Gestures of Romantic Affection. Aziraphale sets a cuddle trap

give you more to hold on to - T / cryptidkidprem / 4k - Crowley nods. "It's..." He looks down at their joined hands, and takes a long, deep breath. “We’re not— We’re not supposed to need this, y’know?” He lifts their joined hands up, lets them fall again. “You and I. Angels, demons. We're not meant to need all this. This touchy-feely stuff, all this affection, this—” a hitch in his breath— “Love.”

two parallel lines -lineffability

don’t let me wake up - acuteangleaziraphale

how to let go - jlmarch

Mornington Crescent -politeanarcy

Wingfic

Symmetry in Favor - G / kedreeva / 8k - Five times Crowley preens Aziraphale's wings, and one time Aziraphale preens Crowley's.

London Calling - G / forthegreatergood / 30k - Come for Crowley’s ridiculous 1970′s bed, stay for Feelings and extensive wing pets.

Hurt/Comfort

Be Ye Therefore Merciful - T / AmberDiceless / 9.5k - Book!Verse. Crowley does something utterly unexpected, and Aziraphale must face an opponent who cannot be thwarted.

Pigeon Girlfriends with a Long Preamble - T / SleepySelfLoathing / 8k - All Crowley wanted was to spend a nice night in with his husband, so of course he ends up summoned by a bunch of cultists instead. Why would he expect anything different....This would probably be a lot easier to deal with if he wasn't wearing Aziraphale's fluffiest bathrobe.

All Creatures that Have the Breath of Life - G / Elsajeni / 4k - Aziraphale fishes a very sodden Crawly out of the water during the Flood.

Touched by an Angel (And it Bloody Hurts) - G  /hedgehog-o-brien / 7k - Aziraphale can’t touch Crowley without burning him.

Douse the Fire, Help Me Breathe  - G / Arej / 1.5k - Even demons fear fire, when they've watched their world burn.

In a City Under Aerial Bombardment  - G / battle_cat / 3k - After the church and the bomb and the books.

Small Mercies - G / rattatatosk / 4k - Crawly gets smited. Aziraphale lends a hand.

Easier Than Air - G / A_Candle_For_Sherlock / 3.5k - The world hasn't ended, and everything is fine. They're fine. It's terrifying.

attachment - T / artenon / 4.5k - Crowley crosses over to open the passenger door for Aziraphale, and Aziraphale’s attention is drawn to Crowley’s uneven gait, the light, too-quick steps and the rocking back and forth on his heels as he holds the door open and waits for Aziraphale to get in.“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale says, heart sinking, “your feet.”

Hell Freezes Over - M / charliebrown1234 + Turcote / 18k - The year is 2002, and Crowley and Aziraphale are sent to Alaska to investigate a decommissioned entrance to Hell. What could possibly go wrong? 

Better The Demon You Know - T / mikkimouse / 1.2k - When Crawly falls out of the sky and into the flood, he gets help from a very unexpected source.

Gently, gently - G / the_pen_is_mightier / 3k - Heaven is cold and lonely. Hell is filthy and crowded. Aziraphale badly needs to be touched; Crowley needs fresh air, and light, and space. They can’t seem to connect on days after they’ve returned from their respective head offices.

Of Firsts and Foremosts  - T / kedreeva / 6k - Aziraphale is left vulnerable and injured as his first molt approaches. Crawly comes to the rescue for the first time.

The Brazen Serpent - T / ImprobableDreams900 / 11k - Some other angels come to help Aziraphale at the end of the Isrealites’ 40-year exile in the wilderness, unfortunately for Crawley.

hold my hand tight (we'll make it another night) - G / cryptidkidprem / 3k - The night at Crowley’s flat. He’s having a hard time not panicking.

Harbours of My Own - T / wingedspirit / 30k - Crowley knows that, as a demon, his freedom is limited. He doesn't get to have a home; he doesn't get to love. Aziraphale would very much like to change that, but he, too, is limited in what he can do. It takes the better part of six thousand years, but they'll get there.

crack me open, feel me shatter - T / rattatatosk / 2.5k - Crowley dreams of the Fall. Aziraphale is there to catch him when he wakes.

Angst (w/a Happy Ending)

Where His Angel Dares to Tread - M / PinkPenguinParade / 16k - Crowley is taken by Hell. Aziraphale disguises himself as best he can for the rescue mission. Newt and Anathema help.

Remembrance of Things Past - T / Fyre / 18k - Hell takes Crowley’s memories all the way back to Eden as punishment for his crimes.

Drunk Theology - G / battle_cat / 3k - Aziraphale had been hoping tonight for Giggly Drunk Crowley, which was his favorite drunk Crowley. That didn’t seem to be how things were working out, though.

Like a River Flows - T / kedreeva / 15k - Five times Crowley was not allowed to love Aziraphale, and one time he succeeded.

The Cultivation of New Growth - T / Vitreous_humor / 3k - “I mean,” he said carefully, “if you want a plant, let me give you one of the snake plants or maybe the big coleus. They'd be good for the shop, pretty stalwart in the dark...You don't want this one, it's rotten.” “Actually,” Aziraphale said firmly, “I do want that one.”

The Holy Essence of Experience - T / Dragonsquill / 4k - They know how they feel, but giving it a name would be too dangerous.   Ineffable husbands from the beginning to the end of the world, aware and wanting.

AUs/Crossovers

be mine tonight (be mine forever) - T / artenon / 11k - Human!AU. When Aziraphale finds out his coworkers have made a bet that he won’t bring anyone to the company party, he asks his best friend Crowley to go as his date just to spite them. Things quickly spiral out of control.

Siren’s Song - T / kedreeva / 30k+ (WIP) - Siren!AU. Crowley, a lone siren, calls a ship to wreck upon his reef, but finds when he meets pirate captain Aziraphale that sirens are not the only ones able to lure another creature to their heart's desire.

Adopt Don’t Shop - G / lucky_spike / 6k - Cat!AU based on Chekov’s “Good Meowmons” comics.

The Ones Who Walk Away From Nevaeh  - T / soft_october / 15k - AU based on “The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas”

The Grinch Who Sold Christmas - T / darcylindbergh / 60k - Human AU / Hallmark Movie AU. Crowley is a big city lawyer sent to seal the deal that will destroy the quaint town of Tadfield forever, right before Christmas... and then he falls in love with the town, and a certain bookshop owner. Ridiculously sappy fluff that hits all the right notes.

The Odd One Out  T / RainyDayDecaf / 2k- A meeting of many different Crowleys and Aziraphales.

Beat Again - T / TeaCub90 / 7k - Human AU. Two neighbours keep each other and their respective conditions company in the dead of night

Outsider POV

Ophidiophobia - G / lyricwritesprose / 7.6k - Pepper is afraid of snakes. When this is abruptly revealed in an encounter with Crowley’s serpent form, she immediately goes about trying to cure herself of it.

What’s in a Name? - G / lyricwritesprose / 4k -  “You do realize,” Brother Francis said, “that Warlock is just your name, not some sort of, of directive?”

Damaged - G / lyricwritesprose / 6k - Aziraphale is struggling after the Apocalypse. Madam Tracy offers some advice. (Very good spooky/nonhuman Aziraphale in this one.)

Angel’s Favor - T/ PinkPenguinParade / 10k - A hundred years ago, Aziraphale gave one of his feathers to a woman who helped him. In the modern day, her descendant calls in the favor.

Protective Camouflage -  G/ politeanarcy/ 2.3k - The Antichrist isn’t the only one with defenses against being noticed.

Disposable - T / lyricwritesprose / 7k - Eric the Disposable Demon attempts to become Crowley’s vassal after the Apoca-wasn’t. Nothing goes the way they expect after that.

on deceiving appearances - G / asideofourown / 2k - The Disposable Demon realizes the truth of Crowley’s deception in Heaven.

Anthony J. Crowley, Retired Demon and Airbnb Superhost - G / TheOldAquarian / 3k - What are you supposed to do when you've been fired from your sweet job in Hell for thwarting the schemes of Satan, you've got a swanky flat in Mayfair, and you're looking for an excuse to spend all your time in someone else's bookshop? Obviously, you turn to the dubious world of short-term vacation rentals.

Other

the best laid schemes - T / asideofourown / 4k - How Crowley got his Rat Army

Incongruous States of Being - T / ZehWulf / 8k - “Who would win: Aziraphale or Crowley.” “Oh!” Aziraphale startles. “Well—such a question. It’s not as though either of us has engaged in so much as fisticuffs in ages, and one does need to keep up practice with these sorts of things.” His fretting dies abruptly when Crowley cuts over him clearly, baldly: “Aziraphale.”

No one expects the Spanish Inquisition - T / WoodsWitch / 12k - The Arrangement is 500 years old, and Crowley and Aziraphale have been having a fine time in Renaissance Florence. Things start to go a bit pear-shaped with the arrival of a Friar Savonarola, so Crowley suggests that they meet up in his favorite refuge from the rest of medieval Europe: Spain. ((Don’t let the title fool you, this is an incredibly in-depth and well-researched historical fic and deserves way more hits than it has.))

[tenglows]

Hiii! Could I get crown prince!Yangyang with 29&36? Royalty AU and it's between him and his new maid but she is actually a little bit older than him and has worked in different parts of the palace (kitchen, horse stables, decoration, library...) and in different positions so when she gets assigned to him she knows how to run the place and she starts teaching him life skills for when he claims the throne. He admires her and falls in love, but she's reasonable until she can't resist him anymore...

[ 29: you know i can’t be found with you ] + [ 36: it's just a kiss ] i am completely in love with this, thank you so much for requesting such an incredible and detailed scenario!!! i was also waiting for someone to use prompt 29, so this was just perfect. i hope you love it as much as i did!!! i also made an aesthetic because i felt like it

the prompts

yangyang sighed as the tailor left in search for more pins. there were still some months until the coronation, but all the preparations had the castle working like a factory.

he stared at himself in the mirror. that mantle made him look like his father, and that scared him. he didn't think he was ready to be king, but there was no turning back now. it never was in the first place.

“prince” a voice distracted him from his thoughts and he turned back to see you, bowing.

since you had been working in the palace for quite some time and knew your way around it, the queen didn't trust anyone more than you, and assigned you to be her son's advisor and maid. you were only two years older than him, so she figured you would be the best option for him to feel comfortable and accompanied.

“tailor shawn excelled himself with this one, hasn't him?”

the long fabric accentuated yangyang’s shoulders, but it was sort of loose. that's why it needed fitting.

“it's good shawn is working hard on perfecting the robe” you spoke, sensing how tired the boy was of being upright on that stand. “shall the clothes be to big on the prince, he's thought not to be qualified for the throne”

“that's stupid” he joked, as he usually did, but you sensed something different. he was playing with his hands and didn't lift his gaze from the floor.

“you're nervous” you stated and he looked at you just for a second, the tailor coming in again. “we'll talk about it later” you saluted him and the man and walked out of the dressing room.

night fell and yangyang had just gotten to his bed chamber. he was exhausted. the fitting process took some more hours and it still wasn't fully finished. then, he had to join his father on some of his tasks. so he could pick up some of his skills and knowledge.

there was a tap on his door, and he yelled an approval for them to come in with the minimum of voice he had left.

“not a good time?”

he didn't answer, but the way he gestured you to close the door told you he didn't want to be alone.

“do you want to talk about today?”

he laid back on the silk sheets and took a deep breath.

“it's too much work”

he didn't say more, but he didn't need to. you imagined what was going through his mind. he was too young to be responsible for all of this. on top of that, he didn't really like to talk about his feelings, so he also dealt with every burden on his own.

“you are going to be an admirable king, yangyang. the town already thinks highly of you”

“what if i let them down?” he looked at you with scared eyes. you sat next to him and in that damp night and big walls, you believed it was the first time yangyang had shared his torments out loud.

“you have your entire lifetime to slip up and learn” he stayed silent, staring up at the ceiling. “and” he looked back at you. “a prince, soon-to-be-king, can also open up about his feelings. goodnight, yangyang”

with that, you closed the door behind you, leaving yangyang in the lonesomeness of his big room.

as he struggled to fall asleep, he thought back to your words. you were right about the part of expressing his emotions. he had no reason to shut down. the thing was, he had never had someone to let loose with before. he would hang out with some of the maid's children when he was a kid, but apart from that, he didn't have any friends. being educated to be king was always what directed his life. and everytime he would get too overwhelmed and ask their parents for help they would brush it off, or tell him they didn't have time right now. or, at any time for that matter. nonetheless, he was raised by one of the best kings the country had ever had. he would come up with something about his fear of his newly obligations.

but after more tossing and turning in bed, he realized you had raised him more than his family ever did. sure, his father was good at teaching him fencing, but you were good at teaching him more human skills. you would explain how to approach people from different status, but never failing to be polite. you told him how to dress appropriately, and what colors were the best combinations. you taught him to make himself some easy dishes if ever needed.

for some reason, the thought of you accelerated the thumping of his heart. the image of your face rested above his eyelids. he pictured the eyes he had grown accustomed to. as his body was getting heavier, he thought of kissing you, a shiver running through his half asleep back as he did. he had never thought of you that way.

the next morning, yangyang’s body froze when he encountered you at the kitchen.

“good morning, did you rest well?” you asked, the same sweet smile as always. you had absolutely no idea about what was going through the boy’s mind: him finding it amusing, how he had lost so many sleep hours wondering off about you and your world just, continued. without a single clue.

“good” he sat on the chair as you placed an abundant plate in front of him.

“i’m glad. here, eat up that i believe you have quite the schedule today”

you have always prepared him breakfast, why did it feel different now? why was his heart excited? was it always like that and he had only recently noticed it?

you turned around to arrange some other things in the kitchen, and yangyang cleared his throat.

“erm, y/n? would you like to sit and have breakfast with me?”

“okay” you smiled and placed the dishcloth on the dishwasher, taking the seat facing his.

“how did you sleep?” you arched an eyebrow at his distinctive behaviour, his face tinting red. he had never shown such clear interest in you.

“i stayed up late catching up on my reading”

yangyang knew how much you liked to read, and how you always seemed to appear with a new book in the span of short days.

“what is this one about?”

“oh it’s romance, obviously” you rolled your eyes and laughed shyly. “you know i’ve always been kind of a romantic”

as he ate, you told him more about the story. he watched in delight how you got so excited explaining the relationship between the characters. you talked some more, until you looked at the time and sent him off to his daily duties.

“hey, do you know how to ride a horse?”

“no, why?”

“i think it’s time that i teach you something”

after a while, you both came back from the shelter bursting out laughing.

“that was fun” you commented, leaving your jacket on the chair.

“i know, the horses loved you”

“i do feed them”

your chuckles died down as you contemplated each other’s eyes. he hadn’t noticed how close you were standing, and suddenly, the thoughts from the previous night came rushing back. the idea of kissing you seemed stronger now, nearer. he leaned in for the sake of it, but was interrupted by his mom’s voice.

“son, y/n” your breath caught in your throat as you immediately bowed down. “you were supposed to find your father by the garden half an hour ago”

“my apologies, mother. y/n was lending me a hand with the horses and i lost track of time”

“well, that’s her job, isn’t it?” the words were harsh but the tone wasn’t. the queen was always respectful and generous to everyone, especially you, but you still caught the idea that she was subtly scolding you.

you nodded and took another bow, the woman leaving and yangyang shooting a quick glance at you before following her.

when yangyang was finally dismissed, he didn’t waste any second before darting towards your bedroom. behind the door, he took a deep breath and knocked.

you were already on your nightwear when he set foot in your room. he had never been there before, taking a moment to inspect the place. it was undoubtedly much smaller than his, a single bed instead of a king sized one, but he still liked it. and it was, without a doubt, yours. with full bookshelves.

“i’m sorry about my mom” you shook your head.

“i had a great time with you today”

he didn’t know where this courage was coming from, but he guessed becoming a king was making him braver in more ways than one. he took a step forward and placed a hand on your cheek, asking for permission. when you let out a breath and leaned into his palm, he allowed himself to stroke your other cheek too.

“i did too. maybe i can be like prince charming from your book” he leaned in again. your noses were almost brushing, when you stood up straight again and kept your composure.

“yangyang, you know nothing can happen between us” you spoke softly, but the tenderness didn’t stop the words from hurting any less.

“a kiss won’t harm anyone. didn’t the main character kiss his forbidden love?”

“but that’s fiction, this is real life”

“and it’s just a kiss” he whispered over your mouth, your eyes looking down to his lips. both of your hearts were beating so loudly it resembled the tone of a thunderstom.

your breaths had blended in a way you didn’t know which one was yours anymore. and he was so close, so close to everything changing that you had to pull away.

“you should leave. good night, yangyang” you practically shoved him out of the door.

you didn’t make him breakfast the next day. or the one after that. another maid did, and yangyang felt his world crumbling. he didn’t even get to see you lately, and he didn’t know how much he relied on your daily smiles until he didn’t have them anymore.

it was at the gatehouse where he found you one thursday. you were cleaning a carriage, and you clearly hadn’t seen him, you would have ran away if you did. he approached you cautiously, and just as he suspected, when you did see him you dropped everything and stood on your feet.

“y/n, stop avoiding me” he yelled, making you stop. he ran to you and struggled to find your gaze. you refused to look at him. “it’s driving me crazy”

“your parents would kill me. you know i can’t be found with you”

“you won’t” he assured, pressing your foreheads together and cupping your face in his hands. he felt as if he had gone back to that night in your bedroom, and he was getting a second chance. “just please, stop running from me” he begged in a barely audible voice.

and in that moment, you decided to do as the protagonist in your book always did. you decided to let go. and with his lips on top of yours, it felt like flying. your feet rejected touching the ground, and you were lucky enough that yangyang didn’t want to come back to earth yet either.

[what-demyxs-name]

For the ship questionnaire, have you done LauriEven before?? If not, then I'm curious!

I have not done them yet! I was going to if I didn’t get an ask, so thanks!

Names are Lauriam and Even.

1. Who kissed the other first? I feel like this time it was a mutual thing. Lauriam was like “are you ok with being kissed” and Even looked away while blushing, mumbled a yes, looked back and they kissed. Like that.

2. What was their first fight about? There are, yet again, many things these two could argue about. Yet again tracing back to when they were Nobodies, a lot of arguments may have went down. I’ll say that it was probably back when they were assigned to Castle Oblivion, Marluxia said he got the highest authority and Vexen was like “w h a t” and they argued. Hands were thrown.

3. Who sleeps in the couch more often? None of them. A work desk, however...

4. Who drinks coffee and who drinks tea? None of them drink coffee, Lauriam drinks tea, Vexen has a giant water bottle by his side at all times.

5. Who goes grocery shopping more often? Lauriam, probably? I’d imagine he has a thing for flowers still, and while he doesn’t impulsively buy flowers there are times where he’d see one and think to himself “have I raised that one yet” as if they were his own children. And while he’s out, he’d go grocery shopping as well! Two blocks with one shield.

6. Who brings breakfast in bed? Hm. Close call but it would probably be Lauriam. Even still has bad habits of staying up late to do his work and while he’s trying to fix them, it’s not going well. Lauriam brings him breakfast in bed on the days where he actually sleeps because he knows he cannot stop him from working until he passes out, so he energizes him instead.

7. Who sleeps first? Definitely Lauriam. Even cannot sleep until at least 1 AM.

8. Who watches the other sleeping? Surprisingly, this time it’s Lauriam. Even is, yet again, too busy to watch his lover sleep.

9. Who met the parents in law first? None of them. I’m going to be completely honest, I think Even’s parents are dead. I’m under the impression they died when Radiant Garden fell to darkness and it’s the same tune with Lauriam; his parents died when Daybreak Town flooded.

10. Who does the laundry? Even. Lauriam’s practically married to flowers so bad scents really mess him up.

11. Who washes the dishes? In one of my previous requests (I think it was Xigbar and Vexen) I mentioned a rule that went like “if you use it, you wash it”. Same rule applies here.

12. Who cleans up the house? Even, he’s a clean freak.

13. Who washes the car? If they had a car, it’d be a shared effort. But because they both practically live in Ansem’s Castle as apprentices, it’s not necessary so they never got one.

14. Who brings take outs? I mentioned Lauriam goes grocery shopping while on flower runs so take-outs would be the same, except he does it more than grocery shopping.

15. Who calls the other to ask if they want something from the street? Lauriam again. Even hardly gets out.

16. Who’s more likely to make plans? Joined effort; ideas are from Lauriam and additions/changes to suit both of them are Even’s duty.

17. Who dreams about a big wedding? Lauriam. You can argue that what he’s thinking about is “medium sized” but it’s bigger than what Even has in mind.

18. Who breaks the cups? I made this point with Larxene and Marluxia, but both Lauriam and Even had to have had really good grip to hold their weapons properly.

19. Who holds the umbrella? I think Even is taller, so it would be him.

20. Who takes the other to the dance floor? Lauriam, Even does not dance unless instructed on what to do.

21. Who does the big romantic gestures? Lauriam. I don’t think I really need to state why here.

22. Who’s more likely to serenade? Lauriam again, Even never picked up the hobby. Though he does hum subconsciously, but stops when he’s distracted by something important.

23. Who forgets the wet towel in bed? Even’s hair is longer, but it’d be Lauriam. I genuinely think that after the whole 2nd Keyblade war thing with Xehanort, and with Lauriam regaining his memories, he cut it so it was short like his younger self. But he still has the habit of drying it until it’s dry and that may take a while, so the towel is forgotten there.

24. Who doesn’t pick up things when they fall? Again, good grip. But Even if he’s sleep deprived.

25. Who keeps losing the keys? Lauriam, he goes out more and puts his keys in random places.

26. Who sings the rap part? None of them. Lauriam despises rapping, whereas Even does not do anything music-related on purpose.

27. Who pretends to be sad just so the other will cheer they up? Even. He may seem mature but when he wants attention oh he will get it.

28. Who wakes up ready for a marathon? None of them, they’re both either cranky or just tired after waking up.

29. Who buys them tickets for shows? Depends on who has more money on their hands that isn’t being used for bills and stuff, but it’s usually Even.

30. Who chooses the movie? Lauriam, but Even does get the final say.

31. Who says ‘I love you’ more often? Lauriam again, but it’s because Even gets embarrassed easily even when no one else is around.

32. Who keeps waving at people after they got engaged? Probably Lauriam, since he goes out more.

33. Who uses the most ridiculous nicknames for the other? Lauriam has the most nicknames for Even, but Even does call him “Rose Petal Effect” so this probably goes to Even.

34. Who’s responsible for date nights? Mutual agreement again; Lauriam lists the ideas, Even checks for additions and changes.

35. Who wakes up one day and decides to stay in bed? Even if he actually sleeps, but once he’s awake he is awake.

COUNTER

Lauriam: 14/35

Even: 7/35

Both: 14/35

[royalstorm]

✨ chara. study #1 — keqing & her first kiss .

Keqing had her first and only kiss when she was fourteen.

Picture this: it was a Tuesday night. Her father was out, meeting with Snezhnayan financiers to take shots and talk business. Her mother was two rooms over, gossiping with the wife of another businessman hailing from another prestigious Liyuean family. Based on previous findings — all garnered by way of prompting and eavesdropping — this family was successful, second only to her own flesh and blood. It was likely that her parents wished to forge some sort of partnership with them, hence their rapidly increasing visitations. But for once in her life, Keqing couldn’t care less about that.

What she cared about was soft, sincere — blue-eyed and brown-skinned, ringlets of blonde hair enshrouding her like a waterfall ... or perhaps a halo. She couldn’t help but stare every time they were in each other’s company. It didn’t matter what they were doing, either. Whether it be folding clothes or spinning fabric or destemming flower bouquets, the focal point of Keqing’s attention remained there and true.

On that day, they were seated beside one another facing a too-big desk in Keqing’s too-big bedroom. Cradled in each of their arms was a book detailing Liyue’s social customs, namely the Flower Ball. Both sets of parents had suggested they study its contents together. “After all, it’s befitting for a proper woman to be versed in social etiquette,” Keqing’s mother had perked up, much to her chagrin. She would much rather be reading about Roald the Adventurer, or perhaps about the ruins scattered across their country ... something more becoming than the proper way to smile and wave before casting a glorified paper weight off a cliff.

So, naturally, Keqing had untrained her eyes from the book and, instead, kept them trained on the subject of her care. It was strangely calming to observe her leaf through page after page, forehead crinkling in concentration as she attempted to make sense of every word.

She pursed her lips. Keqing made note of how plump they were.

“Jia.” Despite the intensity of her stare, she addressed the other girl plainly. And although it took a moment, Jia eventually acknowledged her companion, closing her book and gingerly placing it on the desk. 

“Hey, thanks for that,” she chirped. Her plump lips fixed themselves into a smile. Something tightened in Keqing’s chest. It was the same way a clenched fist felt but somehow ... different. Somehow ... better. 

“Did you lose track of time again?” Keqing moved to discard of her own book. She then extended both of her arms upward in a lazy stretch. “You tend to do that ... not that there’s anything wrong with it. Diligence is a good trait to have.” 

Jia let out a laugh. “Okay, okay! If you say so!” She mimicked Keqing’s pose, allowing her legs to go slack, as well. “I liked what was in that book, though. I felt all grown-up reading about what it means to be a lady.” 

“Is that so?” Keqing lowered her arms, opting to fold them over her chest. “I guess I wouldn’t know. I wasn’t really paying attention.” 

Another laugh. That tight sensation seized Keqing’s chest again. “Hehe! It’s okay. I can give you notes! That way, you don’t get in trouble with your parents.” 

At that point, Keqing swore her heart would explode. Aside from just looking nice, Jia also always did nice things for her: drawing her pictures, picking flowers for her, and of course, handwriting study notes for her. She couldn’t help but wonder what drove Jia to act in such a way and so constantly at that. Was this behavior reminiscent of something relayed to them in that book? Or perhaps the other books she refused to touch?

“No, it’s alright,” Keqing dismissed with a wave of her hand. “But thank you. I really appreciate it.”

Jia nodded, adjusting her posture so that her heels were planted on the seat of her chair, her lean brown arms hugging her legs to her chest. A few beats of silence swept over both girls. Truth be told, Keqing imagined that the other would revert to continue reading her book, seeing as she enjoyed it so much...

...Until —

“Keqing, how do you feel about love?”

Had she actually obeyed her parents and done her share of reading, the question wouldn’t have jostled her as much as it did, but alas ... there Keqing sat in stupefied ignorance, chills coursing down her spine and chest tormented with the prospect of a heart palpitation.

“Like —” Jia continued. Looks like Keqing had been unresponsive for too long. “ — What are your thoughts on kissing?” She rocked back and forth all the while, forearms flushing a pale red thanks to the friction of her movements. Keqing found herself wanting to run her fingers through those very spots — to gently quell the reddening flesh.

“I don’t know. I’ve never thought much of it,” she finally chose to answer, if to just distract her wayfaring mind. Violet eyes dropped to behold the suddenly interesting marble tile of her floor. She then pretended to be captivated by her own hands, twiddling her thumbs in vain. “How about you?”

Ever oblivious, Jia giggled. “I guess I’m the same way ... but you know what my mommy said? She said that you only kiss someone you really like ...” Keqing considered that, mid-thumb twiddle. “ ...And the book said that, too! When the bride and groom make their vows and swear to live happily ever after, they seal the deal by smooching!”

Keqing considered that, too, humming in thought. On the other hand, her parents had taught her that marriages were but a strategic maneuver — orchestrated like some grand scheme for the sake of maintaining power and financial prosperity. They were transactional arrangements, not arrangements founded in an intimate respect and understanding of each other. 

So, naturally, Keqing was speechless. And she remained that way — quiet, contemplative — for a moment before she at last dared her eyes to glaze over and meet Jia’s.

“Well ... ” she simpered. “Isn’t that nice?”

The pair then spent the next half hour or so in an amiable silence, simply enjoying each other’s company. Jia unsurprisingly continued to read her book. Keqing, on the other hand, was thinking up a storm. 

As their time bordered an hour, they transitioned from sitting casually a few inches from each other, to Jia scooting her chair closer to Keqing’s, to Jia laying her head on Keqing’s lap, to a beet red Keqing resting her legs on Jia’s lap. They stayed like that for ... archons know how long. It was a miracle that it hadn’t been time for Jia and her family to leave yet.

By this point, exactly one hour and fifty-five minutes had passed. Jia’s book now lay abandoned at the foot of her chair. She instead intertwined her fingers with Keqing’s, whose head was perched comfortably on the crook of her shoulder.

The physical contact was a pleasant surprise. Keqing acknowledged this by squeezing the other girl’s hand. It’s funny because, well, Keqing had never been the affectionate type, let alone really had a friend before. There had been her parents’ servants and the occasional child of business partners from abroad, otherwise Keqing had always been a pretty lonely kid. 

That being said, she wasn’t particularly sure if the tightening that had been seizing and releasing the organ in her chest was from the contentment of having someone genuinely appreciate her ... or if she was just severely allergic to intimacy. 

Either way, when Jia turned slightly to look at her, probably to tell her some joke, Keqing moved up from her shoulder and pressed their lips together. Their teeth clinked and their noses mashed, which, well, ow ... and Jia tasted like the giant fried shrimp balls they gorged on for dinner which wasn’t bad as a dish, but tasted a little funny coming from someone else’s mouth. Not that Keqing’s breath reeked of anything better ...

... But all in all, no, that was ... not good. That was far from the most romantic first kiss in existence. It couldn’t even be considered romantic, really. Keqing recoiled as if she had been scorched, her entire face lit aflame. She searched Jia’s doe eyes and was on the brink of mumbling out an apology when, in that instant, Jia seized her face between her hands, an unreadable expression contrasting that of Keqing’s.

Without further hesitation, Jia drew her closer for another kiss — one that was soft and sincere just like her. 

It lasted for all of a couple of seconds. When Jia pulled back, it had been her face’s turn to heat up, its hue shy of scarlet.

Having lost all composure, Keqing dragged both hands through her once neatly plaited pigtails. “I apologize for, uh, attacking your face.”

Jia beamed, but not before flushing an even more telling shade of red ... ah yes, now she was scarlet. “No, uh ...” A girlish giggle leaked out from her awkward grin. “ ... Don’t worry about it.” It then dawned on her that Keqing’s lips were still but a hairsbreadth from hers. Jia quickly uncupped Keqing’s face and sat on her hands. 

“Sorry,” she mouthed.

Keqing tilted her head, picking at the nape of her neck in confusion. “Why are you sorry? I’m the one who kissed you first.”

And it was as if saying that word aloud is what made it real. Kissed. Keqing kissed Jia. Her friend. Her only friend.

She was tempted to completely shield her face with her hands, but she decided against it, in the off-chance that the gesture would traumatize Jia and inhibit her from ever talking to any guys (or girls ...) ever again, let alone getting wed to one.

The once amiable silence between them had descended into something tiptoeing the fine line between “awkward” and “grave”. Fortune seemed to favor both girls that fateful night, however, and it only took another minute or so before Jia’s mom had swung the door open, calling for her to say her goodbyes and head home with her.

And here was the awkward part: should Keqing see her out? And bid her a proper goodbye at the front door?

Alas, her body settled on a decision before her mind could, coercing her legs into walking down, down, down the spiraling staircase alongside Jia. It was only when both girls stood face-to-face at the door that Keqing was able to wrestle herself out of autopilot.

Jia’s mom had already begun her trek down the path leading to their home. Jia, however, hadn’t made any effort to budge from her place. She continued to stand there with both hands clasped behind her back, her aura an interesting mix of stalwart and shy.

Keqing smiled slightly in spite of herself, her own gaze glued to the floor. Only then was when ...

“Uh, good night!” Jia’s voice rung in the air an entire octave higher, causing Keqing’s eyes to lock onto hers like a magnet. The former flicked her fingers stiffly in a sort of cursory wave.

That wave. It was the wave that did it. Keqing inched forward and dipped her head to press a quick kiss to the corner of Jia’s mouth. She then guided her closer to the door, coaxing it further open.

“Good night,” she finally murmured in return, closing the door before Jia could muster a response. Oh, if only Keqing had stayed just a moment longer.

Because then, she would have caught the dopey look on Jia’s face. She would have seen Jia fondly graze her lips with the pads of her fingers. 

Keqing should not have shut that door so quickly.

Because they didn’t talk about it after that.

In fact, they didn’t talk at all.

[divine17]

↳ FEEL YOU NOW | MASTERLIST

Fandom: Stranger Things

Request: N/A

Warnings: NOT proofread, Fem!Reader, maybe slightly OOC Billy, established romantic relationship, injuries from a physical fight, brief mention of weapons, a lot of swearing, kissing

Word Count: 2,411

Disclaimer: I do not condone any of Billy’s actions or words in the show. His canon views, the ones depicted in the series itself, are not my views nor are representative of myself. Any disrespectful messages/asks of this nature will be deleted and blocked. 

A/N: maybe slightly fluffy? if you squint? maybe?

On a typical Wednesday night, you could usually be found sitting on your bed, your half-finished schoolwork and thick textbooks sprawled across the mattress. Tonight was certainly no exception. With a big history test the following day, you had decided that it was a fantastic idea to cram as much as you could for as long as you could.. And hope something would decide to stick. You’d been there for at least a few hours at this point, and it was well past nine o’clock, you were sure.

It was the light sound of tapping against your window that made you finally look up from your work, your soft humming to a quiet Queen song suddenly ceasing. Billy. It was dark outside and you could barely make out the shape of his figure, but it was him. You were nearly certain of it.

Confused, you stood from your seat, quietly walking over to the glass. He leaned down slightly, revealing himself. Good God, he looked horrible. Gory slashes and cuts and still-forming bruises littered his face, the purple splotches beneath his eye and along his jaw particularly drawing your attention. His face was red, almost matching his slightly torn, half-unbuttoned crimson shirt. You unlocked the window quickly, raising it up to talk to him.

“Billy, what the hell happened?”

You were shocked, surprised, and probably sounded a little rude as you spoke, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care at the moment. Your boyfriend (well, only sort of) was standing at your window in the freezing cold Hawkins weather late at night with a busted mug. You hate better things to fret over than accidentally sounding rude.

“I... I didn’t know where else to go.” He confessed, his voice just barely above a whisper. His eyelids were heavy as his left eye swelled. Tired and angry, struggling to fully focus on you from the more-than-slight pain. “I’m sorry. It’s late, I know.”

“No, no, it’s fine... Come on.” You stepped away from the windowsill but offered your hand to him, gesturing for him to climb through. “Be easy. My parents are asleep downstairs.”

The blond boy nodded, swinging his leg over the sill and into your room. The other followed suit as you helped him into your bedroom— a first for the both of you. He had never snuck up here until now, surprisingly. Your mother was somehow okay with you having him in your room when he visited, just as long as you claimed to keep the door open or unlocked. Yet, she had never actually bothered to check, much to your pleasure.

But you could almost feel the butterflies in your stomach as you thought of what would happen if she walked in right now, looking over the two of you. The bloody, beaten, broken boy climbing through your bedroom window. His shoes wet with the Indiana summer rain and hair a mess, she would have a fit seeing her daughter holding his hand, pulling him closer to your bed. Luckily, everyone except you had gone to sleep rather early in the night, so the two of you didn’t have much of that to worry about.

As soon as he was safely inside, you closed the window again, pulling the curtains shut from any possible  prying eyes. Next, thoughtlessly, you began to pack everything up on your bed, not bothering to organize any of it. Papers in a messy stack messily shoved into your book bag, books in a stack on the floor. Billy didn’t seem to mind the delay. Instead, he looked over the trinkets on your nightstand, inspecting each item out of curiosity.

“Sit.” You demanded. With a pained grimace across his face, he obliged. His expression turned softer as he looked at you, drinking in the concerned look in your eyes. Something else lurked behind that, though... A warm emotion, but he couldn’t tell what. “Billy... what happened?”

“It’s not a big deal, Y/N.”

“If it wasn’t a big deal, you wouldn’t have showed up at my house at...” Your eyes flickered up to the clock on your wall, reading the time. “A quarter past ten at night. You’re covered in blood and bruises, so I’ll ask again. What happened?”

He grew slightly annoyed as you persisted, his fingers resting on his thigh beginning to tense. Yet, with a deep breath in, and out, he brought himself to relax once more. He was frustrated, residual anger from the fight still burning in his belly, but would never take it out on you. Never. Quick to calm himself down, always. 

Billy loved you so much, far more than anyone else in his life. More than any of his friends, his previous flings or fuck buddies, more than any of his family. You were his number one, always. His favorite person in the whole world, the one person he actually looked forward to seeing every day. Billy felt nervous when he thought of you, warm, soft, as completely and totally uncharacteristic as it was. He was a badass guy, a player, a one night stand who’d usually ignore you the next day. And here you were, so kind and passionate, the perfect girl, so beautiful and amiable, practically everything he wasn’t. 

The two of you shouldn’t have even gotten together in the first place, it wasn’t right, given how much of a polar opposite pair it was, but God... When he held you in his arms, curled into his chest with your arm loosely hung over his stomach, legs tangled together in bliss, nothing had ever felt more right to him. Billy loved you. Even if he wasn’t good very good at telling you that, he certainly did love you. And he showed you that in his own fucked up ways.

“Some guy was talking shit about you, Y/N. I put him in his fuckin’ place real fast.”

You sighed, tilting your head back in frustration. This wasn’t the first time he’d gotten into some fight or another over you, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, sadly. You were sure of it. “How many times do I have to tell you, baby? Let them say whatever they want, it doesn’t fucking matter. You don’t need to justify their bullshit with a response.”

“They were calling you a slut! A whore! You don’t want to know what the fuck else they said, Y/N!” he said, his voice slowly rising as he neared the end of his sentences. His body grew tense as he spoke, nervous. You held out a single finger, a silent reminder of the noise level. “I can’t fucking stand by and listen to that shit. You don’t deserve that. You don’t goddamn deserve for them to talk ‘bout you like that, Y/N.”

You sighed heavily, looking back down at him below you, his big blue doe eyes meeting yours. Goddamn it. This stupid little fight could wait until later. For now, he needed to get cleaned up before the cuts got worse, before the bruises began to swell any more. 

“Let me fix your face up, alright? Then we can talk about this again when shit’s  calmed down a little.”

“Fix it, huh? Didn’t know somethin’ was wrong with it.. So nice of you to mention it now, babe.” He smiled softly, letting himself laugh lightly. The frustration and anger the two of you had previously felt seemed to melt away after his little stroke of humor. He always was good at that, much to your disbelief. He could make any situation less (or more, depending) tense, less upset if he wanted to. Charming in just the right way. 

You took a step closer to him, sitting down on the edge of the bed. And finally, he turned to look at you in the lamplight, revealing the extent of his injuries. A nasty gash across his cheek, several little cuts along the bridge of his nose. A splotchy, swollen deep purple and blue left eye, a slice along his jawline. It would leave a couple pretty gnarly scars across his perfectly smooth, tanned skin, you were sure. A few more for his little collection.

“I’ll be right back, okay? Stay here.” You said softly, standing from the bed. He nodded slightly, letting his eyes fall down to his hands again. And for the first time, you looked over them. His knuckles were busted, the dried crimson-brown color staining his skin, clinging to the silver ring he wore. Jesus Christ. You’d hate to see the other guy. Probably in a coma somewhere, or even worse, dead. You couldn’t even imagine...

Sneaking around your house was something you were oddly, and overly, familiar with. Whether it be because Billy is up in your room and you don’t want to draw attention (much like right now) or just because you wanted a midnight snack, you had practically perfected the art itself. Making as little noise as possible, footsteps undetected. Perfect.

You proceeded to tiptoe ever-so-lightly down the hallway and through the living room, making your way to the kitchen to get some ice and a glass of water. Next, the bathroom. With a small towel and the first aid kit in tow (he would need the whole damn thing, you were sure), you began to make your way back to your bedroom, silently hoping, praying, to sneak by your parents’ room unnoticed. A success, no thanks to anyone but yourself.

Billy was in the same place you’d left him when you returned, save for his bloodied shirt that was now peeled off of him and held in his lap. And once again, you sat down on the bed beside him. But this time, you began your work, starting by wetting the washcloth slightly, gently beginning to scrub the blood from his cheeks, forehead, hands. Next, you placed a butterfly bandage over the wound on his cheek, to which he winced, but remained silent. Washing the blood from his muscular torso, bandaging the cuts on his waist and carefully pressing ice to his eye and cleaning the rather large cut on his jaw, you couldn’t help but  finally ask him.

“Billy?” You quietly asked. He looked up to meet your eyes. “Why are you all sliced up?”

“Stupid bastard had a knife. Thought it would help him win, I guess.” He mumbled. You shook your head in silent disapproval. Of course he had a knife. Just Billy’s luck, isn’t it?

Any other time, you’d be giving him shit. A little lecture about picking and choosing your battles. That backing down from a psycho with a knife doesn’t mean you’ve lost, nor won; It simply means you just don’t want to be fucking cut up today. But after a moment of quiet thought, you decided not to bother. Billy was tired, you could tell. His eyes were half shut as you fixed him up, probably moments away from drifting off to sleep. No doubt he was emotionally exhausted, too. You wouldn’t put him through that right now.

“Baby, I need you to promise me that you’ll stop fighting. Please. For me, okay? I don’t want you to be hurt like this again.” You paused your actions, instead looking over the cloth in your hand. Dark grey, but now, there was an a dark reddish tint all over it. Some places deeper than others, some still the original color of the cloth itself. Billy’s blood. The other guy’s blood...

“It’s cause you’re my girl, Y/N.” The boy’s voice was low, a lurking sadness hanging over him. “They say that shit because you’re mine. They wouldn’t do it if you were with King Steve or some shit.”

“But I don’t want to be with King Steve. I love you, Billy, only you. you know that.” 

“I love you too, babe.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence after that, and it wasn’t until you had finished cleaning him up that you finally spoke again. Standing from the bed, you stretched, yawning from tiredness. He watched as you took his shirt from him, placing it on the nightstand. You pulled open your nightstand drawer, retrieving a bottle of Tylenol. Popping off the lid, you handed two to Billy, along with a glass of water from earlier in the night. 

“Can you... Can you stay the night? Please?”

Billy nodded tiredly, a small, pleasant smile toying at his lips as he placed the pills in his mouth, swallowing them thickly, chasing them with a long sip of water. You brought your hands to loosely comb through his hair, pulling the tight curls out of his face. He was handsome, even like this. Covered in bandaged cuts and nasty bruises, he was still perfect. And he was yours. You were lucky enough to be able to call him yours. That still made you feel warm when you thought about it. The girl who was able to make the angry, wild playboy Keg King title-holder calm down for a while. 

Slowly, your hands moved to cup his cheeks as you leaned down to meet his level below you. At first, it was a hesitant, easy little kiss as he finally leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours to close the heated gap between the two of you. But after a moment, as his hands rose from his lap and stumbled to find your hips, it grew more and more passionate, a little rougher. You smiled as his grip on your skin tightened, keeping you close. Your arms came to wrap around his neck, doing exactly the same. 

Soon enough, you pulled away for breath, though hungry for more. He laughed lightly as both of your holds on each other loosened, allowing him to stand up and begin to strip himself of his slightly wet, very cold jeans. You laid down on the small bed, waiting for the boy to follow your actions. And after a second, he did. He laid on his side, facing you, pulling a funny face just to watch you smile. 

And soon enough, you rolled onto your side, letting his strong arms snake over your waist. Billy pulled you close into his warm chest, his face buried in the crook of your neck comfortably. You couldn't help but smile lightly as you felt his hot breath against you, forever reminding you that he was there as you quickly began to drift off to sleep.

“I love you, Y/N.”

[avengerscompound]

Undercover - Chapter 9

Undercover: A Winterhawk Fanfic

Series Masterlist Previous //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x  F!Reader

Word Count:  1617

Rating:  E

Square filled:   @star-spangled-bingo - Coming Out Fic

Warnings: Sex talk

Synopsis:  You go on an undercover mission with your boyfriend Bucky and Clint Barton.  When you and Clint have to pretend you’re in a relationship feelings become confused.

Chapter 9

Bucky walked nervously down the hall, flanked on both sides by you and Clint.  He was on his way to Steve’s office.  He’d decided he needed to tell his best friend about his sexuality before the three of you went and outed your whole relationship to the group.  Steve had known him since he was a kid.  They’d shared a bed for Christ’s sake.  If he was going to come out, he needed to do it to Steve first.

He did worry though.  Not that Steve wouldn’t accept him.  After he’d taken him in and loved him after the monster HYDRA made him, Bucky didn’t think there was much Steve could learn that would kill their friendship or the love they shared.  What he worried about was that hearing it would hurt him.  That keeping this secret and not trusting Steve with it would cause him pain.  He told Steve everything back in the day.  It was not like Bucky’s sexuality was a new thing.  He should have told him back then.

They reached Steve’s office. It had large windows down the hall side and Bucky could see him in there working on some paperwork.  He stood at the door willing himself to just knock.

You put your hand on his shoulder.  “You okay?”

Bucky shrugged a little.  “Yes.  No.  I mean, I know he’s not gonna reject me.  I just feel bad.”

“Hey,”  Clint said.  He ran his hand down Bucky’s forearm and linked their fingers together.  “All this shit - sexuality, relationships, whatever - it’s yours.  It doesn’t belong to anyone else.  So what if you only want to come out now we’re doing this?  That’s okay.  If you’d never wanted to come out that would have been okay too.”

Bucky nodded.  “I just don’t know why I never talked to him about shit like this.”

“You are now.  That’s pretty big.”  You said.

He nodded again and let go of Clint’s hand.  He took a deep breath and knocked.

Steve looked up.  “It’s open.”  He called.

Bucky steeled himself and went through the door, you and Clint following after.  Steve tilted his head and looked you all over.  “Hey, is there a mission I wasn’t aware of?”

“No,”  Bucky said, taking the seat opposite Steve.  “This is personal.”

Steve looked between the three of you with a slightly confused expression on his face before closing up a folder on his desk and sitting back.  “Shoot.”

Bucky’s eyes flicked from you to Clint to his hands and then to Steve before he took a deep breath.  “Oh god, I don’t even know how to say it.  I don’t know the label.”

“What label?”  Steve asked.

You reached over and rubbed his leg.  “Just tell him how you feel.”

“How you feel?”  Steve asked.

Bucky huffed and shook his head.  “Okay.  So… so… I guess the thing is, that I don’t just like women.  Sexually I mean.  Like… I think I just like people.”

Steve furrowed his brow and then sat back in the chair.  “Huh.”

Bucky looked at him and shifted in his chair.  “Is that all?”

“I just …”  Steve said and ran his hand through his hair.  “Huh.”

“That’s not really helpful, Steve.”  You said.

“Sorry,”  Steve said getting up and moving to Bucky.  He crouched down in front of his friend and put his hands on his shoulders.  “Me too, pal.”

Bucky started laughing, quietly at first and then louder.  He leaned in and pulled Steve into a tight hug and they stayed that way for a while, just holding each other until Steve slowly pulled back and looked at Bucky.

“How come you never told me?”  Bucky asked.

Steve shrugged and moved back to his chair.  “I guess back then I tried to push it away.  I already had enough things to get bullied about.  Being small and sick.  Didn’t need that added to it.  Besides, I like women, so I could hide it.  Then when I came off the ice, I guess… well I haven’t really been with anyone have I?  I don’t know.  It didn’t seem to matter if I was theoretically attracted to anyone when I haven’t been attracted to anyone in any practical sense.”

Bucky nodded.  “I guess that makes sense.  You haven’t liked anyone?”

“There have been sparks, but they don’t seem to go anywhere.  You know how I used to say I was waiting for the right partner?  I don’t think that’s changed at all.  Maybe that’s not something I get to have.  I don’t know.  What about you?”

Bucky wanted to unpack a bunch of what Steve just laid out.  There was pain in his statement and he felt like he needed to help Steve deal with it, but maybe now with you and Clint wasn’t that time.  Instead, he focussed on the question.  “Back then?  I don’t know.  I think because people would say things like if a guy was were with a man they’re gay now.  Then if they were with a woman they aren’t gay now.   Or whatever.”  He shook his head.  “I thought it was a choice you made and so I chose the safe one.  It never occurred to me you could be both or all.”

“Why now?”  Steve asked.  “And why did you tell Clint before you told me?”

“Umm… well, that’s the other thing,”  Bucky said, swallowing.  “Clint … we… the three of us.”  He groaned and buried his face in his hands.

Steve looked between the three of you, somehow more confused looking than he was before.  “You want me to tell?”  You asked.

Bucky nodded and you took his hand and gave it a squeeze.  “Bucky, Clint and I are together.”

“Romantically?”  Steve asked.

“Well there hasn’t been a tonne of romance, but yeah.”  Clint joked.

“All three of you?”

“Yeah, all three.”  You said.

Steve didn’t say anything for a moment and just looked the three of you over.  “You’re happy, Buck?

Bucky nodded.  “Yeah, I am Stevie.”

“Then I guess that’s what’s important.  I just want you to be happy.”  Steve said.  “Be careful though.  I don’t want to see you hurt.  Any of you.”

Bucky smiled a little and nodded.  “Thanks, Stevie.”   He went to stand and then stopped and looked at the blond opposite him.  “Hey, you think if we’d both just been honest back then we would have … I dunno… gotten together?”

Steve looked at Bucky and wrinkled his nose.  “You’re kinda like my brother, Buck?”

Bucky started laughing and got up.  Steve did too and they hugged again.  “You’re still a punk, you know?”

“And you’re still a jerk,”  Bucky said.  “You think we can call a group meeting?  I kinda just want to get this all out there?”

Steve pulled back and nodded.  “FRIDAY?”

“Right away, sir.  I’ll have them meet you in the common living area.”  The AI replied.

The four of you headed down to the common room together.  Steve took a seat on one of the recliners while you, Clint and Bucky or took a seat on the couch.

Natasha was the first to arrive.  She smirked when she saw the four of you.  “They tell you their news?”  She asked Steve as she took a seat on one of the other couches.

“Yeah, they already tell you?”  Steve asked.

She laughed.  “No, I caught them.  They think they’re so sneaky.”

Steve laughed and shook his head.  “Imagine thinking they could hide something from you.”

“Right?  Idiots the lot of them.”

The rest of the group slowly trickled in looking slightly confused as they took their seats.  Last of all was Tony doing his usual trick of making sure everyone knew he was in the room.  “Why the family meeting?  We got a teen pregnancy?  Someone get suspended from school?  Do you all need pocket money?”

He took a seat perched on the couch next to Pepper and leaned over and kissed her on the top of the head.

You looked over at Bucky and Clint, and Clint nodded and sat forward.  “So we just wanted to get everyone together to let you all know that the three of us -”  He gestured between you, Bucky and himself.  “- are together.  In the biblical sense.”

Natasha snorted as the others looked between the three of you.

Tony started laughing.  “My god, I always knew you had a wild side, missy.”  He said.  “So how’s that work?”

“You don’t know how a threesome works?  Aren’t you some kind of ex-playboy?”  Clint asked.

“You see when a mommy and a daddy and a daddy love each other very much…”  You added.

“Ha-ha, very funny,”  Tony said.  “So you’re really poly?”

“Yep.  That’s it.  Just thought you all should know in case you see us holding hands or kissing or whatever, no one is cheating on anyone.  We’re all copasetic.”  You said.

“Hey, Pepper, you think…”  Tony started.

“No, Tony.”  Pepper said shaking her head.

“Any further questions class?”  Clint said.

“When did this start?”  Sam asked.

“Just after that last mission.  Some stuff came up. We decided to explore it.  It’s kinda working.  So we’re running with it.”  You said.

There was silence in the room for a moment and Tony stood up.  “Great talk everyone.  Shall we order pizza?”

You chuckled and leaned into Bucky, he pulled you close and kissed the top of your head and then did the same to Clint.  He wasn’t scared anymore.  He knew how he felt and knowing his friends had his back, this could work.  He might not get the life that he’d been told he should have back before the war.  Really the war had ruined any chance of that for him.  This though, with you and Clint, he could be happy and really above all, he wanted that above anything.

// NEXT

[probably-writing-x]

Bump in the road.

~Shawn Mendes~

~Inspired by me travelling 14 hours over the past two days... And, y'know, imagination starts going!!~

"Shawn we're not fucking doing this now, okay?" You raise your voice for the first time since he'd got here - until now, you'd feared the other people in your flat hearing your argument. Now, you were on your last nerve.

"Then when are we doing it?" He drops your bag of toiletries to the bed and focuses directly on you, "The next time I catch that guy flirting with you, or maybe when he tries to kiss you?"

"Would you relax?!" You exclaim, forgetting about the suitcase in front of you to instead direct your words solely at him, "He's my flatmate. We live together. He does a similar course to me. And that's it! There's nothing going on and, anyway, he likes someone else,"

Shawn scoffs and shakes his head, "And then she rejects him and he needs a shoulder to cry on?"

"Yeah, maybe, and it will be a friendly gesture for me to be there for him," You state coldly, calculating each of your words as though you were speaking to a child, "Now, I'm going to finish packing my things up, say goodbye to everyone and then I'll meet you in the car,"

"At least let me help you finish packi-"

"Shawn," You cut your boyfriend off, "Go,"

This wasn't how your second year of university was supposed to end. As you came to the end of the last semester, you were also coming to the end of living in this flat. So, your boyfriend had offered to take the long drive over here to help you pack up and then you could do the roadtrip back together. How romantic, no? Well, you'd have hoped so. Instead, Shawn had caught eye of Jason, whom you had lived with over the past semester amongst the rest of the group also in this flat. And your boyfriend became quickly possessive - instantly assuming the worst. A trait you despised when it got like this.

"Hey honey, I'm just leaving! My parents are here," Shelly sticks her head round the corner of your door, a grin plastered across her painted lips.

"Have an amazing summer," You force a grin, wrapping her into a big hug which you think you definitely needed more than she did.

"You too, girl," She pulls back, hands resting on your arms, "And don't let Shawn ruin anything! I sort of heard you two earlier,"

"No, no, he won't ruin anything," You shake your head, feeling sick to your stomach whenever anyone spoke badly of him, "He's just- I don't know, it's difficult,"

She nods and squeezes your hands once more before hurrying out with her bags to go and meet her parents.

Taking one final scan around your room, you zip up both suitcases and close the window - taking a deep breath. You were still pissed at Shawn and he had to know that. Although, with an eight hour journey ahead, you dreaded how thick the tension would be.

~~~

As soon as you're walking towards the car, in sight through the wing mirror, Shawn hops out of the Jeep to help you load your stuff into the trunk.

You smile lightly as a forced thank you before clambering into the passenger seat.

"Ready to go?" He begins as he gets back into the driver's side.

You turn to face him and see he has all appearance of innocence on his features. And, today, it irritates you.

"Let's not act like we're normal S. You were out of line back then," You state, certain of your stance now that it was only you two in the car - no prying ears of your flatmates.

"I was out of line?" He scoffs, forcing offense to be taken on his face, "You're the one flirting with some random guy when I'm stood right there! I fucking dread to think what you do when you're free of me,"

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" You raise your voice louder than his, "So, what? You think I'm cheating on you now?"

"I didn't say you were-"

"You know I would never, ever, do something like that to you. To anyone for that matter," You say with bitter tone, "Don't you ever accuse me of something like that. I can't believe you would think so low of me,"

"(Y/n), come on, don't be like this," Shawn sighs, "I just-"

"Just drive, Shawn," You comment, clicking your seatbelt into place and focusing your watery eyes on the stationary road ahead of you.

He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times as though he's trying to find any words to say, or maybe trying to take back his previous ones.

But it's futile. And, soon, he shifts the Jeep into gear and starts driving with nothing but silence between you.

~~~

You're out of the city of your university and driving down roads that look like the typical setting for any roadtrip. There are mountains and concrete and the shadows of sun poking through the clouds. Utterly picturesque. But you still felt uneasy. The car journey so far had been utterly silent besides the radio playing far too quietly and the occasional mutterings from Shawn about drivers that were irritating him a little - something that only annoyed him when he was already pissed off or upset.

You take the opportunity to close your eyes, no real intention of falling asleep. Though you were tired. Tired of looking at your boyfriend and seeing his mouth move in raised volume. Tired of seeing him after all these weeks and being met with something you'd rather shut away for a lot longer than a semester. It felt tedious and ridiculous to think that the boy you loved was the source of such petty issues.

And, before you knew it, you found yourself drifting into a slumber that you didn't realise your mind desired so much.

~~~

By the time you awoke, sun was setting over... Wherever this was. The trees swayed nonchalantly, parting only to show brief glimpses of the blinding sun behind them. You were leaning against the door of the Jeep, one arm tucked beside your head and the other... The other by your side, hand intertwined with Shawn's. His large hand was settled on your seat, fingers locked gently with yours and his thumb absently brushing over your skin as he hummed to the rhythm of the song on the radio.

You blinked away your seat and sat a little more upright in the chair, "What time is it?" You question groggily, rolling your shoulders to relieve a little of the tension.

Shawn jumps a little and goes to retract his hand, "It's uh... Seven, seven fifteen," He clears his throat and shifts his hand back to the ten and two o'clock position on the steering wheel.

"You haven't had a break?" You frown, hand feeling oddly empty now he wasn't in contact with you.

"No, I thought you'd just want to get home quickly," He says, shaking his head and letting a couple of his untamed curls tickle his forehead.

"Pull over here," You gesture to a nearby petrol station, "You need to give yourself a break,"

He doesn't dispute, pulling over into the far end of the parking lot to stop the car.

"I'm sorry," Shawn sighs, letting his chest rise and fall as he begins, "I'm sorry for a lot of things over the past few months. I'm sorry for being distant whilst I was on tour and not caring enough about your commitments here. I'm sorry I didn't drive to see you on your birthday, I always promise myself I'll see you on your birthday. I'm sorry I've been getting jealous and I'm sorry I snapped at you back then, I know you're just friends with that guy but I just felt a bit overwhelmed and I see how much of a good time you're having there and, God, it's amazing but it's also hard to-"

You shift your hand and let it find his, grateful when they still link together like normal. You let out a breath you'd forgotten you'd ever taken.

"I haven't deserved you for a long time and I think we've lost this recently and I fucking hate it an-" His bottom lip trembles and he tries to shake off his emotion.

"Don't say that Shawn," You say and regret it instantly as it comes out as a croaky whisper, "We've both fucked up and done things we want to regret. I should've come to see you on tour when you felt down, it didn't matter about me being tired or whatever. I should've told you when I was getting stressed and not left it until my Mom called you because she was worried. I shouldn't have snapped back at you for just being a little too protective over some guy."

"We could go round for hours," He comments, "But I think we both know where we've made mistakes,"

You nod and shift to bring your legs up to the chair, pulling your knees to your chest.

"But I think it's made me realise more than ever that I never want to lose this," Shawn shakes his head with a crack in his voice, "I never want to make times like this get the best of us and lose everything we've had since we were sixteen,"

You can't find words good enough now - knowing he was more than likely to say it better than you ever could.

"I think we need to spend the next weeks just-"

"Going back to how things used to be," You finish for him, "I think so too,"

A silence falls between you that doesn't feel tense this time. It feels like that point that you get to with someone where you don't need sound to consolidate the connection between you. Where your surroundings are filled with enough silent noise to avoid any fear of loss.

Shawn leans his head back against the headrest and tilits his face so he is looking at you, "You remember when I first passed my test? I brought you out to the middle of nowhere and we sat on the hood of the car and watched the sunrise. It was the first time I kissed you,"

You smile at the thought and glance outside at the sunset still tickling the sky, instinctively tugging at his hand, "Come on then, let's go,"

He cocks a brow at you and lets a light chuckle dust his chest before letting go of you to step out of the car.

In seconds, you find yourself leaning back against the windscreen, shifting closer and closer to Shawn until your thigh bumps his.

He lets his hand fall into yours and lifts your leg so that you're as much in contact as he can make possible.

You settle your head on his shoulder and wrap your arms around his torso, breathing in the comforting scent of his cologne - one you'd chosen for him and he'd worn ever since. He still has your pendant linked to his necklace from when you'd given it to him before his first tour and, on the hand that tangles into your hair, he still displays the swallow tattoo that you'd designed for him. You'd never lose those little features.

And that's how you stay, longing for the sunset to last a little longer, you wrap yourselves in each other's hold - something your hearts had missed far too much. You let the occasional cars pass and you let the workers at the garage tell you that they're closing and you let the time pass by. But you don't move until you're both sure that this is it. You'd let the dusk fall across this youthful part of your relationship and vow to never get there again. You vow to grow and to learn from each other and be more patient and more willing to compromise. But, most importantly, you vow to never argue before a road trip again... Knowing full well that sort of tension was far too unbearable!

~~~

Tags: @imarypayne @sunshine112 @bringmethehorizonandpizza @supernatural-girl97 @vibhati123 @butithasntkilledyouyet @faefictions @carisi-sonny @trap-house-homiecide @spiderrpcrker @tommydaspidey @oneblckcoffee @darlingtholland @fanficparker @xxtomxo @httpfandxms

[sir-skarsgard]

Write something for me too, darling? The kid always love how his girlfriend makes him feel loved and special, so he want do the same for her, and she absolutely loves it 🥰🥰🥰

Yes, oh my god. Adorable!! 😍 

Prompt/summary: The kid wants to make Alex feel as special as she makes him feel, so he tries to make her breakfast in bed 

Word count: 1477

Warnings/contents: Fluff, sad kid, happy ending though, more fluff 

Notes: I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing this, because this request was a gift and I loved it 

Ever since he met her, while he was dressed in baggy prison clothes to meet Henry outside the gates, she had been kind to him. People around him grew anxious and frustrated with him. Alex, however, had never so much as raised her tone. She was a soft, kind soul, and it warmed the kid’s insides. 

He felt a different level of comfort with her than he ever remembered feeling anywhere else; even as he started to regain his memories, he didn’t want to leave and get back home, mainly because it meant leaving Alex and he had, to some degree, fallen in love with her. 

And so, he stayed. Henry opted to put him back in the cage, an idea that had stunned Alex. She dismissed the idea before any sort of explanation exited Henry’s mouth. Her face held an annoyance towards Henry the kid had never seen. A daring look was in her eyes, as if she was saying to Henry “Finish that sentence. I dare you.“ 

Molly had tried to get Alex to agree, which seemed to only infuriate the small being even more; well, small to the kid, she was rather tall, standing at a 5′6 and a half, making her decently tall compared to some women. 

Eventually they had both given up, told her if she wanted to leave the kid out of the cage so badly, to take him home herself. The kid was expecting a much different result, however Alex amazed him with a “Fine I will! And you’ll see, he does not deserve to be in that cage.” And she stomped off, her hand grasping the kid’s in a gentle way, despite her fuming gaze. 

That had been nearly 3 years ago. The kid was still with Alex and her kitten, Lilith, a tiny black ball of fluff that took an immediate liking to the kid. He had adjusted rather quickly to Alex’s house. It was small, warm and comfortable. There seemed to be no end to the blankets and pillows she had, especially on her bed. She made him feel more comfortable than he had ever remembered feeling. 

Alex was just too kind. She was an energetic beam of light in the dark town. She was his beam of light, no matter how dark and gloomy his days seemed, she cheered him up almost immediately. 

He wanted to return the favor, for everything she’d done within the 3 years he‘d been with her, and the previous 1 year when they’d struck up a romantic relationship, however he didn’t know what to do. There wasn’t much the kid could imagine to do to make Alex feel as special as she made him feel; he was too distracted, quite honestly, to realize that he already had made her feel special and loved, but even if he knew he wanted to do something. 

The sunlight peeked through the partially opened curtains of the bedroom, shining on the kid’s face. He gave a soft groan and buried his face into the warmth of Alex‘s neck, tightening his arms around her. She stayed still asleep, not noticing the world around her; the birds chirping, the sun shining, the morning dew dripping off the petals of flowers, or the kid groaning in her ear. 

He yawned, forcing his tired eyes open, and slid his arms out from underneath of Alex’s head and away from underneath her shirt. He rubbed his eyes and stretched out, peeking out the curtains and then at the clock that sat on Alex’s side of the bed. 

It was only 8:30, on a Saturday morning. The two had stayed up the previous night until about 3, watching movies, including a few scary one’s that had the kid clinging to Alex for dear life. 

She had done nothing but protect him ever since she met him. He was like a little kid when he came from the prison; a big, puppy-like man she decided needed more warmth than Henry was willing to give. She had invited him into her home, buying him clothes and a nightlight for the spare room he called his own for awhile since he feared the dark. She had stayed awake with him until ungodly hours of the night, cradling his head in her arms and petting his hair as he cried from another nightmare. She had welcomed him into her own bed on a previous occasion, waking up all tangled with her had made him rather flustered. And soon she had welcomed him into her heart, their midnight cuddles after a nightmare turned into mid-afternoon snuggles on the sofa, watching television or reading. 

He had become so accustomed to her touch it felt lonely when she wasn’t there. Her soft hands holding his, rubbing his back, playing with his hair; her melodic voice humming soft words to calm him, or excitedly speaking about something that had interested her. 

The kid had loved and adored her for so long, it felt like they’d been together much longer than they had. From sleeping in each others arms, him watching her cook and cuddling against her, to her peppering kisses along the back of his neck to emit a laugh from him, no matter how soft, after a sad day while she wrapped her arms around him on the bed; or how she’d lay her head on his lap and fall asleep with his hands in her hair. 

He decided finally to do something. He’d start with breakfast. She always made the kid breakfast, and so he’d make it for her this time. He‘d watched her do it billions of times, watching her stir the egg yolks and butter the toast, and flip the pancakes to reveal the perfectly cooked side while its opposite sizzled against the heat of the pan. 

She had made it seem much easier than it was. The kid nearly dropped the frying pan, spilt egg yolks and made a mess trying to clean, and forgotten about the eggs and pancakes, and ended up with burnt bacon. 

The smell of smoke was strong in the entire house; Alex nearly fell out of the bed as she rushed down, still only in shorts and a t-shirt, her hair messy and her face worried as she ran into the smoky kitchen with a worried look on her face at merely 9:15 in the morning. 

“Are you alright?“ She asked, her heart rate calming as she saw only food was burnt. The kid shamefully looked down, a sad gleam in her eyes. “Baby?“ She asked softly, walking closer and reaching up to cup his face in her hands. The kid met her soft gaze and sniffled, inhaling the smoky air. 

“I just wanted to make you breakfast like you always did for me.” He murmured in a soft tone. A small smile graced Alex‘s face as she let his go to open the window above the sink, and the back door to let the smoke out. 

“Well, the bacon is a little burnt. but the eggs look well done, and the pancakes just need a little syrup.“ She said with a smile. “It looks lovely.” The kid still looked away, fiddling with his long fingers. 

“I made a mess.“ He murmured, gloomily sinking into the wooden chair at the table. 

“And we can clean it.“ Alex replied, her hands entangling in his hair. He leaned into her, his head on her stomach and his arms carefully wrapping around her waist. He looked up at her and frowned. 

“I just wanted to do something for you.“ Alex sent him a puzzled look and brushed the hair away from his forehead. 

“What do you mean, my love?“ 

“You always make me feel so special. So loved. I wanted to make you feel that way, too.” He murmured softly. Alex sent him a loving smile and got on her knees, softly pecking his lips and placing her hands on his thin legs. 

“Sweetheart, you already make me feel loved. I appreciate the gesture, though. It was very sweet of you, and it looks delicious. But you don’t need to make me breakfast; you make me feel loved just by wrapping me up in your arms, and kissing me, and watching movies with me and Lilith. You make me feel special, baby, in a way no one else ever has.” The kid smiled lightly down at her and leaned in to press his forehead against hers. He laced his fingers with hers and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. 

“I love you.“ He whispered. A grin formed on Alex’s face as she tightened her hand in his. 

“I love you, too. Now let‘s eat so we can clean up and go watch Silent Hill.“ 

“Another scary movie?“ 

“Yes, but don’t worry, it‘s not that bad.“ 

[elliemarchetti]

Somewhere to Start (part 9)

Words: 1687

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Other Harry Potter fics:

Slytherin!Hermione AU (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7)

The Deal (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

The Polaroids The Sixth and Seventh Polaroids

Memories of a Survivor 

On December 26th everyone woke up late. The Gryffindor’s Common Room was much quieter than it had been lately and frequent yawns punctuated lazy conversations. Hermione's hair was frizzy again and as if nothing had happened the previous night she and Ron had returned talking to each other, albeit in a strangely formal way. It was time to think about the homework everyone ignored during the first week of vacation, too busy preparing for the Ball, and the students seemed rather down while Harry was starting to get a little nervous again, and although he could hide it from Ron, it was another story with Hermione, who remembered that February 24th was fast approaching and he hadn’t yet done anything to decipher the riddle inside the golden egg. Not that it was the only problem: in fact, as soon as the lessons resumed, the Gryffindors had the bitter surprise of finding a substitute teaching Care of Magical Creatures and not their gigantic friend, that was indisposed, according to Professor Grubbly-Plank, his hateful substitute.

"I don't understand what Hagrid has." Hermione complained that day at lunch, when she was finally able to see Viktor again, who had been incredibly shy the previous week. "If he hadn't felt good he would’ve told us, wouldn't he?"

The boy agreed, obviously lost in his thoughts, and Hermione made a mental note to investigate further what was happening to him, only to be distracted, when she reached the Gryffindor table, by a copy of the Daily Prophet that went from hand to hand generating general discontent, where, on the front page, there was an article from Rita Skeeter entirely on Hagrid and how much the half-human was a favorite of Dumbledore despite being huge in appearance and having terrified students with a succession of hideous creatures. Hermione snatched the newspaper from Lavender's hands, which despite mumbling something, didn't have the heart to reply when the classmate crumpled it and threw away what she had called junk. It was what happened later to be blatant and to enter the annals of Hogwarts history, or certainly that of the feud between Gryffindor and Slytherin: Hermione marched straight to Malfoy's place and slapped him first and then Crabbe, below the everyone’s astonished gaze, including the professors.

"Granger!" Snape boomed, but Hermione didn't care. How could that worm lie that way? Hagrid was a good man, at times naive, of course she saw it too, but he had never wanted to hurt anyone, nor had he abused his power as a teacher; on the contrary, the opposite had happened and he had to endure Malfoy's harassment for two years, dreading that his father could take away with his influence the small space that, with Dumbledore's help, he had managed to carve out in the magical community that wanted so ardently to be perfect, to eliminate all those who could somehow be different and undesirable. If Rita Skeeter had to write an article about a despotic and aggressive professor, she should’ve done it on Snape.

"Detention. In my office, now. And apologize to my students."

“Never.” she hissed.

"Do you want to be in detention until the end of the school year?" he asked, rising from his seat and standing in front of the teachers' table.

"Is this what you teach your students, then? To lie to get what they want? To be mean? I deserve to be punished for hitting them while they? Don't they deserve it for lying?"

This was a huge affront to Snape’s authority, so much so that someone could have called it insubordination or lack of respect, but anyone who had seen the attitude that the teacher had held for four years against the most brilliant of the students in that school could understand why she was acting that way.

"And this is what you are taught in Gryffindor? To physically assault anyone who doesn’t agree with you?"

Probably the professor expected to put the girl, who was tremendously aware of all the students’ eyes fixed on her back and those of the entire teaching staff, in whose she read conflicting judgments, in the corner, but this didn’t happen, as Minerva McGonagall herself stood up to speak: "No, Severus, this isn’t what I teach my students so I advise you to return to your place. I will take care of Miss Granger, who will come to my office at the end of the lessons to decree what is the punishment that best fits her wrong gesture, myself. I advise you to discuss with your students, instead, about the weight their words." she finished dryly, and sat down again only when her colleague stormed out of the room, furious. Hermione sat back down in her place with her head down, but saw, out of the corner of her eye, that her housemates' attitude toward her had changed.

"You've been amazing." said Ron, vaguely breathless. Hermione smiled slightly. She feared McGonagall much more than any other professor and didn't want to disappoint her, which she probably did with that thoughtless gesture. She raised her head from the plate, that remained empty all the time, only in hope of meeting Viktor's gaze, but the boy was gone, and his place left empty.

 McGonagall's punishment was much less harsh than what Viktor would’ve imagined as she merely forbade Hermione from participating in the Hogsmeade trip organized for mid-January. Obviously Viktor also decided not to go and they spent the day together in the cold and wet from the freshly melted snow park.

"We could take a bath." he said, clutching his own cup of hot chocolate.

"A bath?" she asked, puzzled. Probably there were about 4o C.

"We do it often, in Durmstrang. Besides, I should practice a spell."

Hermione's attention snapped like a spring: "What spell?"

"Transfiguration." he replied vague, amused by the light in her eyes.

"I'm very good in that area! Tell me, what do you have to transfigure? I hope it's not something too big, because these are very difficult spells and I can't help you, and probably not even Professor McGonagall, even though she's the best in that field…”

"I don't think it's something I could talk to your teachers about." he interrupted her, without raising his voice too much. Although almost all the students from the third year onwards had gone to Hogsmeade, he didn't want to be heard while talking about the tournament with Hermione, partly to avoid problems, partly because he wasn't sure anyone could help him when it came to what needed to be done to win, especially if it belonged to another competing school. Or any other school, actually.

"Oh ... You probably shouldn't even talk to me about it then." she replied, disappointed.

"I know, that's why I asked you to take a bath." he replied with a half-smile. It was horrible not being able to share everything with her, not to mention the fact that he still hadn't been able to give her his Christmas present, but maybe it was too late and besides she didn't seem to have been offended for not having received one, even if even Neville had bought one for Ginny, who showed it off with some pride. The girl was probably too good for him, and he was certain that she was destined for great things, especially after he had seen her in the middle of the night training with one of Hogwarts' brooms, the worst he had seen in a long time, and do prodigies anyway, but for the moment they were cute, although Hermione claimed that there was nothing between them.

"She would’ve told me, don't you think?" she had asked him, rather annoyed, one day, and he had dropped the subject, even if it was obvious that Ginny would surely not have told someone that she has settled with Neville after her obvious crush on Potter. Regarding him, and his friend, a kind of peace seemed to have been established between them and Hermione but Viktor still couldn't trust them, especially because he couldn't just forget how Weasley had attacked her on Yule Ball night, ruining, at least in part, his romantic projects. Since that night he had no longer thought of declaring his love, let alone trying to kiss her, even though there were days where he really didn't know how he managed to restrain himself, partly because he felt too embarrassed, partly because he had a crazy fear of losing her if she hadn’t returned his feelings, so he had contented himself with being something more than a friend and something less than a boyfriend, locked in that strange limbo that was like a bubble of happiness that by now no one, not even his friends, could conceive.

"How long do you think you can wait?" Andrei had asked him one morning during their usual run on the lake, and Viktor hadn't stopped thinking about it since then. How long could he wait? Forever, if things stayed that way. But it wouldn't happen, and he would be back in Bulgaria in a few months, and she would be more than two thousand kilometers away, with a life and habits that he didn't want her to put aside or distort every time he went to visit. Yet, on the other hand, he wouldn’t have let what was between them, whatever it was, merely be a nice memory, so he kept waiting and watched the two parts of his heart that fought against each other. Was it okay to act selfish? Or should he have been a gentleman and let her make her decision without intrusion? Darina had reminded him, when the topic came out again during the long nights on the ship, that Hermione, brilliant as she was, was still a normal girl, and a younger one, moreover, so it was up to him to make the first step, whatever he wanted to do.

"But isn't it too cold?" Hermione asked, snatching him from her thoughts.

"There are spells to solve this problem too." he replied as a wide smile opened on both their faces.

[globerjk]

Marichat May -

Post reveal – Balconies - Secrets

Previous Entire story on AO3

“And you didn’t think of the media coverage?” Mariette asked in disbelieve. “You are the son of the host, the image of his company!”

She let out a sight while pacing. “Didn’t you think for a second that your civilian friend, the one that is very much invested in anything fashion related and that actually goes to your school wouldn’t notice that you were wearing the exact same garment?”

“Wow. I really am dumb” There wasn’t much more for him to say

“You think?” She stopped to face him.

“Marinette” He said taking her hands. “Can we maybe postpone the topic of my stupidity for later? I still have to figure out how to break the news to Ladybug. For now let me concentrate in us and what almost happened”

Chat, no, Adrien came closer “Marinette I think I’m falling in love with you and maybe I was imagining things but I felt like you were also leaning in” She gulped “Where you going to kiss me back?”

“I was.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Because you like me back? As more than just your friend?”

She nodded. Marinette seem out of words at the moment but Adrien felt like he needed to keep asking her questions.

“Does the fact that you know me outside my costume affects that in any way?”

She nodded again and it was astounding that a simple little gesture could make his heart sink. If that sensation didn’t made him certain of his feelings for her…

Marinette quickly recovered her voice sensing his discomfort.

“Adrien, Chat or however you want me to call you for now on… you need to understand that knowing you outside the mask affects the way I fell about you, but no in a bad way ok? I promise” She said holding his cheeks.

“AS Chat you knew I was in love with another boy, I told you as much the first night you came to visit on this very balcony. But after we started spending so much time together I got confused at first and then kind of recognize a change to my feelings and started to get over the other boy little by little”

“Really mm” She covered his mouth. His eyes were getting bigger with hope.

“I´m not done” she resumed. “As I was saying… Chat is he one helping me move on, without even knowing and I was so ready tonight to leave the other boy behind... Or so I thought” She paused looking into the fading hope on his expression and releasing his mouth “but maybe I don’t have to” she finally finished with a smile.

“What are you saying?” Was he getting this right? Was she admitting to having feelings for both but choosing his first love? Did she need more time to think things over? Was the idea of having romantic feelings for a friend from school difficult to process? Did she feel like he took advantage of her somehow?

“What I´m saying is simply that we need to have a long talk Chat and that it’s almost 2 am on a school night. Please kitty, can you come back tomorrow with me for lunch?” She took his hand to reassure him seeing the disappointment in his eyes.

“I promise you that knowing your identity is not a bad thing, it sure will be difficult with Ladybug…” She trailed off “but for Marinette it’s a wonderful thing, ok? Just come back with me for lunch tomorrow” She got on her tippy toes and gave him a lingering kiss on his right cheek, closer to his mouth.

“As you wish princess” He bowed and kiss her hand bolting from the balcony a moment after and touching the spot she kissed all the way to the Agreste´s manner.

…

The next day the clock slowed down, or at least that’s what it felt like for Adrien and Marinette. When the bell finally rang the all but disappeared through the door together leaving their respective best friends wondering what had happened between them, especially since they were being awkward with each other all day long.

The walk toward the bakery was silent, but once they were on Mariette’s balcony the familiarity of the setting helped them relax.

“You must have known that I would at least catch you father's toast. That was obviously going to the news channels.“ Was the first thing out of her mouth.

“Yeah, but I didn't expected him to ask for my presence next to him, he never does.” Adrien defended.

“And what about the pictures? You were wearing one of the best outfits of the ball, photographers were bound to be all over you! Didn't you think those pictures would get to the media?”

“Would you have cut them out for your walls?” A very Chat Noir grin appeared on his face as he hold her gaze, giggling his eyebrows and earning him a punch

“You don't get to joke right now... You don't get to be funny”

“I never realized how strong you are. For someone so petit you throw a mean left hook!” Adrien said robbing his arm and for the first time it was true that it hurt

Her expression morphed and she seemed to lose her bravado. He looked so much like her dorky Chat that she couldn't help herself and blushed a deep red from neck to ears

“Marinette. I'll apologize to Ladybug for blowing my identity. Honestly, I didn't think it through. But I'm not sorry you know.... I've been very confused about my feelings for a while.”

He said daring to take her hands. Placing them near his heart, like he'd done before only as Chat and the warm feeling was amplified by a thousand. “Last night I finally had a moment of clarity and I want keep moving in that direction.”

"You still love her"

It was not a question

“Am I only second best?"

That was…

"Princess" The word somehow was scarier without the mask. "How can you even think that? You are the girl who made me question my feelings for Ladybug, for my partner and hero of Paris"

"One of the heroes" she said looking down.

"Okay, one if the heroes" Adrien corrected before continuing “You are the one making my reconsider my plans and expectations. I don't even get how, but you sneaked into my heart" He took a step forward "but I know that I don't want you to leave"

He tightened his grip on her hands causing her to finally look up and meet his gaze. When the boy summoned the courage to start leaning forward, Marinette stops him with by turning her face to the side.

He let her hands go with a heave breath.

“I just realized that I have been here for over an hour and you have not touch my nose once, and even if the conversation started as per usual for us when I was here as Chat, you seem to be getting less and less comfortable around Adrien”

Marinette stiffed next to him not daring to look at his face, nor to say anything.

“What's that about, I wonder? Could it have something to do with my perfect hair and my mask less handsome face?”

Now she began trembling obviously not relieve by his attempt at joking.

"Ohhh gosh this is it, isn't it... Time for me to confess... Ohhh I'm going to be sick" She muttered mostly for herself, but Adrian was able to catch every word. Too bad that he took them the wrong way. She needed to express herself better, as she was clearly confusing and hurting him since the night before.

"You don't like me like that” Adrien said sinking. “Me being who I am its making you reconsider. I asked you last night and you said you were okay with this, what changed?"

"Can you please not look at me while I say some things that I was kind of hoping wouldn't be an issue but apparently are?"

"You’re making me anxious" He said with a half-smile

"Please" He eyes were impossibly bigger and he was unable to deny her anything at that moment, he squeezed her hand and turned his back to her.

"You remember the very first time that you came to my balcony I mean for other than Akuma fighting?”

"Yes, that's the day I had a surprise picnic for ladybug. You mention that yesterday as well" He answered expectantly

"Remember that I was upset about a boy?"

"Yeah. Again, you mention him yesterday" This time his tone was not as soft.

"Ahhh Yes… and remember that I also told you that I was confused before the ball? Because of this other boy?"

"I... Yes. Marinette, this conversation happened not twenty four hours ago. Believe me, I remember perfectly" Adrien sounded defeated now. He took a big breath and asked the question he was dreading “You're still not sure if you prefer to be with me or to keep things up with Luka, right?"

"Luka!?” Her voice raised. “Who said anything about Luka?"

“Well, that's the boy you liked, I mean… It has to… it has to be, right. I mean, who else? Since when was hi the one who stuttered.

“Umm… what about you?” Marinette asked.

“ME!” He practically yelled turning around.

"I said I needed you on your back" She panicked moving her arms with no grace.

"Plagg, transforme moi” Marinette covered her eyes from the blinding green light. After opening them, was left facing her not quite yet boyfriend hero.

"Does this help?” Chat asked hopeful.

"It. It actually does. Do you mind?"

"Not At all princess, please continue because I'm pretty sure that my heart is batting so hard that it’s treating to burst out"

She took his hands again and stared into his eyes adoringly "I can't believe that Chat Noir is making me feel all this. I was so sure of the future I wanted with Adrien. Finding out that you are the same person is overwhelming.

"I understand. Now, please princess, please continue"

"Eager are we?" Something as simple as a mask and she was able to talk to his face and tease him again. "It was you, Adrien you, the boy I had a crush on"

"But you never said anything"

"It was pretty obvious"

"No to me it wasn't!" He defended

"What about my awkwardness and my stuttering?" She eyes him playfully.

"I always found those cute parts of your personality" He shrugged.

"The pictures in my walls?" She challenged.

"I ... You... What?" He started indignant "I asked you directly if you were interested and you said that you just liked fashion.” He place a hand to his chest faking being offended by her denial “You said this to my face!"

"And you believe that?" She opened her mouth in surprised, he really was this oblivious.

"Why would I doubt you?"

"Most of the pictures were candits and they didn't show the clothing very well" She giggled

"I think we've already stablish that I'm that dumb" he smiled.

“You are this wonderful mix of incredibly smart boy and dumb dumb Kittie. Hey, and what about the kiss I gave you after heroes’ day?" She insisted.

"Okay, I'll admit that felt pretty cool"

Chat had a dopey smile hands still between hers. He leaned forward and Marinette swallowed hard. This was it. Their eyes began to close, just a few millimeters and they would share their first official kiss.

"Marinette, Adrien! Lunch is ready" Came Sabine’s voice through the trapdoor.

"Ohh for the love of..." Chat groaned and call for Plagg to revert his transformation.

AO3 complete