#edited to fix a couple small things that got messed up without my knowledge | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

g--r-e--e-n · 5 years ago

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Of herbs and riddles Pt.1

Pairing: GN! MC x Satan.

Content: Fantasy AU for Obey me! MAX that was supposed to be posted as a whole but I can't fully finish it on time so at least have this :')

Warnings: It says hell at some point but I'm not sure if that's a swearword. Pretty sure anything else is not worrying, please tell me if you think otherwise so I can properly tag any sort of danger away!

(Edit: Apparently says "hell" several times. Sue me or something, I'm already crying either way.)

"Good morning, sir!" You cheerfully welcomed the young man crossing your apothecary's door. "How may I help you?"

He smiles softly, reaching the counter and looking you with the most beautiful piercing eyes you had ever seen.

"Good morning to you too." The man greets elegantly, his golden hair reflecting the candlelight filling your modest shop, the morning sun still to weak to allow the flames to die as they had been made to. By his clothes and the softness of his long and slender fingers, you soon understood he was one of those few big fishes passing by this small pound that your village is. "My dear brother has gained quite a wicked heartburn after a rather copious dinner. I was hoping you would have some remedy for his condition."

"Sure thing, sir!" You gladly answered. You loved your work as much as it was possible, and having such an interesting customer was definitely a plus, specially since foreigners were known for their generous tips. "Let me see..."

You begin wandering around your store, the magic candles now dying to let the soft sun come through the window.

The young blonde man stared quietly at you, following you quietly and looking over your shoulder towards the dried leaves and small bottles. He had seen many in his books, old as time itself, yet memorizing all of them would've been imposible within a mortal lifetime. However, instead of jealous, he felt mesmerized. There were little things he admired as much as knowledge, and you were filled with it.

Getting his head our from those thoughts, you turned around with some little bags.

"Give him a cup of chamomile tea and root of Ginger, he shall be fine sooner than a cock sings. If he's not, come over again and I'll give you a special bred of tea I'm working on." You started walking towards the counter again, closely followed by your customer and the smell of the herbs. "Giving him something to chew on rather than eat could help him too, if you feel on a rush."

"Thank you" He absentmindedly replied, the jewels in his eyes lost in the little bags you handed over, a slight hope blossoming in your chest. He said nothing about being unable to come again, so perhaps he was a newcomer rather than a traveler. "How much?"

"Two pieces for the root, the rest is on the house" you replied, keeping your smile as you handed the goods over. "After all, you're new here, aren't you?"

Your client stared at you, taking the plants and handing you the money ever so graciously you felt like you had met an angel. Four coins weighted down your hand.

"That we are." He softly said, a smile to his face. "My older brother came for a gig, he was the main wizard in the neighboring village, but he soon fell in love with this land of yours and made all of us tag along."

There was something this guy wasn't telling you, you just knew.

"Are you a wizard too, sir?"

"Not quite. I'm just a librarian." He vaguely answered, shrugging. "And I better get home before my brothers begin to grief me."

You let go a soft laugh, as he flashed you another of his smiles, turning his back to you, hand waving in the air as his silhouette.

"Wait!" You stopped him. You needed his name, something, anything, and you didn't even know why.

"Yes..?"

"... Don't let him drink milk. Makes it worse."

He laughed a bit, saying something you didn't quite want to hear, too embarrassed. What the hell had just happened?

You sighed, trying your best to keep on working, sorting your material and attending the folk with a smile brighter than the sun itself.

You had made yourself a name thanks to your knowledge, being one of the few fools to dedicate your life to science when magic was a thing. Nobody would've betted anything on you, but here you were, healing people better than any witch ever could, knowing by heart every plant that grew around your hometown.

It had been hard, but you felt like you were living a good life. You felt happy with your own situation, and after the librarian's visit, you could barely keep your heart from bouncing in excitement, hoping to meet him again.

Your chance, of course, took you fully by surprise, way sooner than expected.

It had been four days, and you were about to close after a pretty exhausting day of work when the librarian entered the place, any complains dying on your throat at the sight of his worry.

"Good evening sir, are you alright? Is it your brother again?"

You walked over to him, concern painted all over your face, but not daring to invade his personal space.

"No. Yes. What you gave me last time worked marvelously. It's not that." He sighed, closing his eyes for a second. You could see the dark skin under them. "It's other brother, actually. He's a reckless young man, and got himself in a fight. His condition is not serious, but he keeps on complaining about the scars that might be left in his face. Do you think you could help him?"

Oh. So his brother was that one idiot that tried to get away without paying from the butcher. God, you hoped he wasn't too bad.

"Yes, sure, one second." You nod before looking from plants again, his gaze fixed upon them as last time, making you somehow nervous. Perhaps a little conversation could help, while you grab the herbs. "So... Have you been sleeping fine, sir? You seem rather tired to me."

You slowly turn around, some bottles resting in your arms, softly clinking against each other as you walked towards the counter.

"I'm reading a book full of riddles." He admitted, feeling oddly at ease withing your little shop. "This far I've solved them all, yet there's one that I can't quite lay my finger on."

You start mixing substances, peeling carefully some aloe.

"Well, why don't you tell me the riddle? Maybe I can help you out."

The librarian stared at you in disbelief. Did you really think you could solve something he didn't?

Of course, he didn't really want to refuse, and would much rather see you fail by yourself.

"Sure thing" he says with a smile, his eyes shining dangerously. "I am valued by men, fetched from afar, Gleaned on the hill-slopes, gathered in groves,

In dale and on down.

All day through the air,

Wings bore me aloft, and brought me with cunning

Safe under roof.

Men steeped me in vats.

Now I have power to pummel and bind,

To cast to the earth, old man and young.

Soon he shall find who reaches to seize me,

Pits force against force, that he's flat on the ground,

Stripped of his strength if he cease not his folly,

Loud in his speech, but of power despoiled

To manage his mind, his hands or his feet.

Now ask me my name, who can bind men on earth,

And lay fools low in the light of day."

You rise an eyebrow, sealing mixing your little beverage with as much energy as you could gather.

"Sir, you must be kidding me. How could not figure that out?" You questioned, staring at the liquid to check it's colour and quality. "It's mead. Honey mead, they make some at the monastery up the hill. At times I use it to make some of my beverages taste nice, it makes any biter taste disappear."

The librarian blinks a couple times. He had thought wine to be the answer, which apparently was a close call, but whatever you were talking about didn't really ring a bell.

"It's an alcoholic beverage, right?

"Never tried it?" You were rather surprised, really. He looked like a fine man, one of those who would attend hundreds of fancy dinners. How can he not know his liquors?.

"My brothers don't like me drinking." He admits, a defeated smile to his soft lips. "I pretty much stick to tea most of the time."

"At least it's healthy!" You smile at hin, handing the mix. "Here you go, sir. It's oily and a bit thick, the onion extract might itch a bit, but worry not, it'll work perfectly. Rub it against any mark your brother might have left and it will soon be gone. If the mark happens to be darker than his skin, cut a lemon in two and rub it against the wound."

"Thank you." The blonde man smiled cheerfully, your conversation very obviously pleasing him. You had no idea how close he was to ripping the book's pages apart because of that damn riddle. "How much?"

"Two coins shall suffice, sir!" You handed him your gooey mix, receiving five whole coins in exchange. Your eyes wide . "Sir, I beg your pardon, but isn't this a bit too much? You already paid me double last time!"

He shakes his head gently.

"Two for the medicine, two for the riddle, and one for humouring me. What is it but fair?"

He messed up your hair before you could complain, soon heading home to his brothers, leaving the fire grow on your cheeks, too stunned to even close the shop as you were supposed to.

You couldn't help but find yourself hoping to meet him again, waiting for another three days to go by. Your dear librarian, however, took very little time.

In two days, he was already in front of you again, while you attended your neighbor's cuts, not allowing yourself to get your attention from the poor man no matter how handsome your new favorite customer was.

In a few minutes, your neighbor had already paid and waved you goodbye, happy as ever. You couldn't stop yourself from smiling like a fool, loving your job, before finally paying the librarian some attention.

"Good afternoon, sir! How may I help you today?"

"It's one of my brothers" he said, to none of your surprises. Honestly, he must be wasting a fortune in helping them. How many brothers did he even have? "He's been failing asleep during his shift at work, through his studying lessons, and I'm afraid he'll end up sleeping his days away. Would you be able to help me?"

You nood, soon heading to fish some herbs, as always followed by the tall man and his cryptic gaze. You didn't even know his name yet, but something about him felt like meeting an old friend.

"You know, I usually would give you some green tea, but..." You softly smile, pulling something from the bottom of your shelf before facing the young man, showing him your little treasure. "A friend of mine likes to travel. At times, he brings me this to help me whenever I feel tired or sick. I'm not exaggerating when I say it makes miracles! It's called Siberian Gingsen, but you might as well call it the holy grail. Just please remember to keep the dosage small and preferably during mornings, unless you want your brother to stay awake all night. "

Your customer nods, listening closely.

"Your brother does not have any heart issues, does he?" You ask, slightly ridding off your excitement. "We could try something else then."

He softly shakes his head.

"No, don't worry. That little brat is surprisingly healthy seeing as how he spends his days doing nothing." He sighs. As much as he enjoyed Belphegor's company, at times it was a bit worrying. No human should sleep this much without being considered dead. "How much is it?"

You stare at the Gingsen, struggling a bit. You had never thought of actually selling it, but it's not like you needed it anyways, so that's not really a reason to rise the prize. Still, it's an imported good, right?

You sigh, realizing you needed an assistant more than you'd like to, before going back to your default smile.

"Two coins shall suffice, sir!" You gifted him a smile Satan knew he would not forget in some days now. Despite his blush, he handed you four coins. "Sir, please..."

"Two for the remedy. Two for... Going to the fair tomorrow?" His words surprised you, and even if you tried your best to hide it, you were red up to your ears. "I heard from some villagers you don't usually frequent that sort of events, so I really won't mind it if you decline, but... I think we could have a nice time there."

His gentle, genuinely caring tone softly melted your heart, sweet as belladonna and just as dangerous.

You didn't really have a life aside from the shop and, at times, the market. All your free time was spent diving between pages, looking for all the information you could gather, and something in this almost stranger's eyes told you he wasn't really a party kind of person. God, ge didn't even know honey wine.

"Sir, I... I don't even know your name." You mumbled, confused, not used to how blunt this gentleman was, not even moving his eyes, calling yours like light calls a moth.

"Oh. Right." He said, faking surprise, not really willing to admit he liked being called "sir" ever so politely, fairly sure it would ruin the whole mood. "I'm Satan. A pleasure to meet you..."

He expectantly looked at you, and soon you gifted him your name, his new favorite sound.

"And now that you have a name to call me by, will you come to our little date?" He tried his best to sound secure, fearing he already knew the answer. "I'm sorry, I hope I'm not coming off as too strong. I just-"

"No, it's fine. Why not?" You smile as you best can, still nervous, but way too afraid the situation would worse with Satan's lose tongue. "Let's meet tomorrow morning at the fountain, shall we? Usually there's music as early as sunrise, I'm sure you'll adore it."

"Then I'll trust you" he answered, genuinely glad this turned out so nicely. It almost seemed like a dream. "Now, I shall go before that brother of mine falls asleep again."

And just as elegantly as he had entered, he left, his image lingering in your memory for a while.

A date.

You were having a date.

A date with the gorgeous foreigner who just so happened to frequently visit your shop.

A date with Satan.

What the hell.

#obey me!#obey me #obey me satan #satan x mc #swd satan #Satan x reader #om! swd #om!#om! satan #om! fanfic #gn!reader #Gn!MC

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danetobelieve · 5 years ago

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I Spy With My Little Eye || Darwin, Rio and Winston

Usually, when people invited Darwin it was always about some demon that needed to be banished, or the occasional booty call. In this case it wasn’t a demon, but something definitely suspicious anyway: Winston had asked his expert opinion on a knife and... An eye? Pictures had been sent, but the messages had been vague, the sort of short responses you only give when your current project is eating most of your time away, or when it’s troubling you enough that you don’t feel like sharing much over the internet. Whatever Winston had gotten themselves into, it must be something big. Something dangerous, judging by the carvings on the knife. Darwin liked to think of himself as a demonic expert, but even he had some trouble identifying the symbols on the weapon. Which is why he’d asked Winston to see it in person: books were fine, Darwin had even brought a few with him in his bag, but in his experience a hands-on approach was always the best way to get answers. Which is why he now stood there, bag filled with tomes and various supplies, lips slightly twisted in an excited smile. Dangerous, sure, but interesting nonetheless. Too bad Bertrand would have to miss this: Winston had mentioned a roommate, and Darwin couldn’t be sure they’d be as welcoming about fashionable yokai as Winston had been. After a moment to fix his clothes, he knocked. “It’s Darwin. I brought something.”

Winston had been working with Rio for a bit now. Ricky was off working out, training or something else that would make Winston sweat and wheeze. But they were making progress, at least, they hoped by it. The carvings on the knife were beyond Winston and every search of the internet that they had done on the images carved into the knife hadn’t been all that helpful. There were just too many resources to be able to reliably cut down and some of the answers that they were getting were conflicting or just downright contradictory. “Hey Darwin,” Winston said with a yawn as they opened the front door a mug of coffee already on the way up to their lips, “we’re in the workshop I’ll show you the way.” Winston turned and led them through the house to where the old garage had been converted. They were in the corner that was Winston’s, a mess of notes and old leather bound tomes were scattered across the parts of the desktop not covered by wires, the keyboard or the mouse. A bank of screens on the wall were each running their own individual search. Some cross referencing, some image searching and some running through key phrases. “Darwin, this is my friend Rio, Rio this is Darwin, he’s … an expert.”

Winston has mentioned that somebody would be dropping by that would hopefully be able to help with the research. Orion hoped that he could, because the two desperately needed it. They had cleared a small space in the workshop for Rio to set up an area, and Rio had taken full advantage of the given space. He had pulled whatever books he could fine at the Scribe building on demons and stuffed them in his book bag to bring back home. Now they laid spread across his desk space, sharing it with various cans of energy drinks. Rio had been going on about twenty seven hours without sleep now. His eyes were bloodshot and his pink hair was a tangled mess, but he kept it hidden beneath a baseball cap. He was also incredibly jittery, the sugar rush of the energy drinks being the only thing keeping him going at the moment. Rio heard Winston and Darwin coming before the door opened. He leapt up to hop over and extend his hand out to the man here to help. “Hey there! So happy to have you here! We need an expert. How are you?”

“I don't know if I'd call myself an expert after having seen your setup here...” Darwin looked around the room with a low, impressed whistle. “You've been busy, I see.” Most of the screens and wires were as alien to Darwin as runes and rituals were to the common folk, but there was no denying the two had been poured their heart and soul into whatever they were researching. He turned to Rio and shook his hand. “Darwin Asrani, at your service.” For a moment he hesitated, wondering if the young man would recognize the last name, and if so what he'd make of it. Being an Asrani came with a certain reputation, one that would give Darwin credibility in his 'expert' role, but could also cause some tension. Then again, the two seemed way too exhausted to care about his family, for which Darwin was grateful. “I'd say I'm more well rested than both of you. Is... Is that a first edition?” The sight of tomes like those laying so close to coffee and drinks made him shudder a little: his book store may only be a cover, but he still cared about knowledge. “Well, the sooner we begin, the sooner you two can get some sleep. I've brought some books as well, I think I recognized some of the symbols on the pictures you sent me.” Darwin took out a couple of tomes and gently added them to the pile on the desk. Like most of the books in his private collection, they were old and written in a language long forgotten. “I'm afraid I couldn't understand most of what was written in there. I got this as payment for a... Favor I did for a friend. But maybe if we cross-reference them with whatever you have here we could...” He let the sentence hang, twirling his moustache for a few moments. “Anyway, what are we looking for, here, exactly?”

“Sleep is for the weak, finals season is worse then this.” Squinting at the book for a moment, Winston grabbed the mug of coffee and poured it into the one they already had in their hand before placing the coffee mug next to the book. Placing it in the microwave in the corner, Winston shrugged. “It might be? I don’t know about first editions but it has some very fascinating information in it that helped us to … well more questions.” Winston forgot about their coffee as Darwin kept talking and began to explain their point of view. “Okay, so the situation is that we’re pretty sure there is a demon in the lake, big squid demon. It’s been cordoned off by the police but a few of us managed to get close to the lake hoping we could do some recon and get a real look. Instead, we actually ran into a cult, well, we say cult, we don’t actually know. They were wearing robes, chanting in a long dead demon language, had their eyes sewn shut and their eyes in their hands somehow? Anyway, we beat feet and got out of there but we’ve got some samples.” Winston pointed at some of the photos they had taken, both of the cultists by the lake and of the eyes which they were keeping on ice in the back of their freezer (the tupperware was brightly labelled and Winston didn’t know what Ricky’s problem was). “Rio over here has been working on the language and I’ve been trying to analyse the eyes as well as run searches through the database of information we’re collating. It had made sense to give them home access to all of the digitised information that Rio had accrued. “So, I guess we’re trying to work out what the dagger says and find out anymore information on this stuff that we can?”

Admittedly, Orion didn’t even feel that tired. Most likely they had reached some sort of numbness, long passing the point of exhaustion and entering some state of sleep deprived and caffeine fueled hysterics. “It is first edition. The Scribe who owned it was a friend of the original author.” Rio answered nonchalantly, remembering the signature on the inside of the first page. Sometimes he felt like he hadn’t even made a dent in the Scribe library, which in a lot of ways he hadn’t. But other times like these he finally thought he was making some progress. “The creepy cult people kept making mentions of the water and ‘joining the bodies’. It makes sense to assume that they mean the lake when they say water just because that’s where the cultists were, but I haven’t really found anything to prove that yet. I was able to hunt down the translation for water in the language. It’s written on the white board over there.” Rio babbled, pointing haphazardly towards the board while he focused instead on type books Darwin had brought along. “Woah. These looks old.” He ran his finger along the spine and stared at it in wonder, “Can I start looking through them? If I can find a match somewhere in these books with the what we know about water and bodies and joining then I bet we can pinpoint the language.”

Darwin blinked. “You... Suspected there's a giant demon in the lake and you decided to take a look? No wonder Hellhounds leave you unimpressed.” Darwin tried to make sense of everything Winston and Rio told him. Squid demon was too vague a clue: most demons adapted their form to fit humans' expectations of a monster, and the imagery of tentacles had been present enough throughout history to become sort of a staple. Eyes and hands were also pretty common in demonology: windows to the soul, the tools with which someone shapes the environment around them... Off the top of his head Darwin could think of four Greater demons who would appreciate something like that, but two were supposed to be just a legend, one had been banished and the other was always depicted as a spider, not a squid. And none of them had a particular interest in water, or joining bodies. “They were chanting, you said. A ritual, maybe a prayer of some sort? What day was it? Lunar phase? The moon often matters when water is involved, something about the tide. And I'm assuming you crashed the party and interrupted them, right? If so, they might try again. If I were you I'd try to keep an eye, pun intended, on the lake during the next few days. Demons don't appreciate their cultists missing Sunday's mass.” Darwin was about to ask even more questions, but he figured the two already had enough on their plate, so instead he nodded at Rio's request. “Knock yourself out.” He walked to the pictures, picking them up one by one and studying each of them for a few moments, focusing more on the ones depicting the knife. After a couple of seconds, he pointed at one of the symbols on the blade. “This one here, I think it has something to do with energy. Or spirits, maybe, not sure. I saw the same symbol in the black leather-bound book on top, you might find something in there. Oh, and... That's a first edition, too.” A weird flex, but one Darwin couldn't help: he might not have only three degrees of separation between himself and the author, but his collection had always been his pride and joy.

Shrugging, Winston gave Darwin a smile. “Yeah, well, I’ve found that if I don’t actively try and solve these potentially town ending problems then it has less then enjoyable consequences. Especially after the mimes.” Winston began googling so that they could answer Darwin’s questions. “That is a good point, it was like four days ago and on a day after the full moon which means that it was a waning gibous, I can’t believe that we didn’t consider lunar phases affecting tidal currents within the lake. I mean, or something like that.” Winston remembered Kaden opening fire without warning with a wince. “Yeah, well crashing the party wasn’t exactly something that we volunteered for, but yeah, I think they would probably go back. The place is meant to be being watched by the cops, but I’ll see if I can set up some cameras in the area so that we can at least get an idea about it. I might even be able to get it on the police budget…” they scratched their head thoughtfully and made a few quick notes on a sticky note. Raising an eyebrow at Darwin’s comment. Winston had to admit that they didn’t understand the whole first edition being a boast thing. Sure the book was older and therefore more valuable, but edition 1 was usually the one with the most problems that were slowly fixed and made worse in edition 2,3,4 and so on. “Energy and spirits, I can run a search on other symbols that are used for that,” Winston tapped a few buttons and symbols began to arrange themselves into a grid on the screen in front of them as their search results loaded in, “I don’t know if that helps though….”

It only took Darwin’s approval to dive into the book, skimming through the pages as Orion listened to Darwin and Winston continue the conversation. Rio had to admit that he wasn’t exactly well versed in the lunar cycles, but maybe it was something he should start learning. It wouldn’t be too hard to incorporate the lunar calendar into his own and memorize the patterns. But that wasn’t important right now. “You can keep a hold of the knife if you’re looking at that. I have the pictures that Kaden sent me.” Glancing through the book Darwin suggested, he came across a symbol that he recognized from some of the Scribe books he had read on a similar subject. He rushed over to the white board, sketching some of the symbols that he had found that he thought looked similar to the symbols on the knife. Then he brought the picture on his phone up and propped it against the board, zooming in on various spots of the picture and trying to mention it. “These symbols look pretty similar to this sketch on the knife. Something about a shelter or home. There’s something else on the knife that matches with the symbol. Another part of the word or something. I’ll keep looking.” Rio exclaimed, excited that he was working with another first edition. To think that the author of this book had personally put this together, that it was his own words on the page was fascinating. “The squid itself is an interesting choice for a demon. They’ve been seen as a sort of monstrous creature for a long time. The Kraken dates all the way back to the 13th century.” He spoke, mostly to himself as he worked. Something about the familiarity of the subject made the unknown of the thing they’re studying a bit calming. “I don’t know that being a squid is necessarily related to the demon. But considering the connection to water my guess is that choosing some kind of aquatic creature was specific.”

“Cameras are a good idea. If I wanted to hold a ritual nearby a place full of cops I'd try a sleeping spell first. Or illusions. Memory spells would work too... It's easy to deceive the human mind, but cameras? I for one would not have thought of that. I'm too old-fashioned, I suppose.” Darwin shrugged before clearing his throat. “I should note that I do not make a habit of holding dark rituals in the moonlight, cops or no cops. I have better things to do with my spare time.” People were quick to assume the worst of a demonic expert, sarcasm and deflection had become second nature to him. Putting the pictures down, he moved behind Rio, watching carefully as he added notes and compared symbols, going too quick for Darwin to really follow. “Water definitely seems to be a recurring theme, yes. Perhaps what we're looking for is something involving both shelter and water. And over there, zoom on that picture, please...” Again, he nodded. “That little hook at the end of that rune is often used to represent a sign, a warning. Winston, can your fancy computer see if there's anything that would involve all of these things? A shelter, water and a warning? Maybe a place where the... Joining of bodies, was it?... can take place. Or maybe...” Darwin's musings were cut short by one of the screens beeping, and he turned to look, hopeful. “I want one of those. Wouldn't know how to run anything on it except Minefield, but I want it. Has it found a match for the spirit bit?”

“I mean, we don’t know that they have magic necessarily,” Winston replied with a shrug, “but yeah, cameras sound like a good idea, hopefully they won’t think of it.” Pausing for a moment, Winston laughed a little at Darwin’s joke, maybe it wasn’t a joke. Winston wasn’t sure that Darwin struck them as the type to have moonlit rituals. At least this was good natured fun research, for once they weren’t nearly dying. At least not yet. Winston grabbed their coffee and swallowed a mouthful that was now piping hot. Winston followed Darwin’s instructions carefully and listened carefully to their conversation. Honestly, this was a little out of their league but it was all so fascinating. “Cross referencing everything is something I can definitely do,” Winston set to work, setting up the specific search parameters before setting the search going. The screen beeped with results far faster then Winston had expected, but at least they weren’t going to be sitting around waiting for ages. “It looks like this is something to do with a lighthouse y’know, like the old timey beacon thing, look over here, you’ve got multiple symbols for lighthouses, both in terms of a nautical capacity and as a geographic location. I guess it makes sense right?” There were a few old newspaper articles, various other search results were flashing up in the background too.

Some time had passed since they had first started diving into the research. When Orion found that he had started dozing off while looking for something relevant he reached beneath his desk and cracked open another energy drink. “A lighthouse?” Rio questioned, perking up at the discovery and glancing over at the screen to see what Winston had found. “That fits the theme of water!” They were getting somewhere, they had to be! “Obviously lighthouses have a functional purpose, but beyond that they’re used as a religious symbol. It’s seen as some sort of spiritual guide. Not sure if it that has any connection to the spirit symbol on the knife or not.” He sighed. Maybe he was trying to find a connection where there wasn’t one. He studied the blade of the knife again. Noticing some slight differences between symbols that he had originally thought to be similar. “Hm. The first time I looked at these I thought these were the same.” He pointed at the knife, “something to do with joining or coming together.” He flipped through the book again, spotting down a symbol he had glanced over the last time. “But I think right here looks more like some kind of transformation.” He made a correction on the white board, looking over the change that had been made. “So joining the bodies like Nell said, and then transformation of spirit and something about a lighthouse.”

Darwin listened carefully, his eyes darting quickly between Rio and Winston, and suddenly he found himself wishing he had some coffee as well. “Lighthouse. An odd thing to put on a ritual knife, but you're right, lighthouses have been a recurring religious symbol in the past, which would definitely fit with a crazy cult. Perhaps their purpose was to... Summon a lighthouse? Or rather, a beacon. To guide something... To the place of the ritual?” Darwin shook his head, unsure. Pacing back and forth, he went on. “Lighthouse beacon, joining of bodies, transformation of spirit...” He repeated those words over and over, their only clues. Could it mean the ritual was meant to guide a spirit to join with its original body, transforming its form from incorporeal to very much corporeal? Wild speculation at best, they didn't have enough information to be sure of anything. Darwin pinched his nose and sighed. If only he'd been there to witness the ritual, maybe he could be of more help. And then a crazy idea started to take root in his mind, and he moved to his bag. “So, most people would find what I'm about to suggest... Shady, at best. But I've done something similar in the past, and I can promise, it yields results. You said you have samples, and I've seen pictures of an eye. Do you, by any chance... Have said eye?” Instead of bracing himself for their reactions, Darwin simply left them no time to react and continued. “During big rituals there's always some sort of... magical residue, and the eye was at the center of it all. It might be possible to channel that residue and let us... See what the eye saw. Its memories, so to speak.” Mental magic, the other Asrani specialty. Granted, Darwin had never used it on an eye, it shouldn't even be possible: dead things have no mind, no memories to share. But then again, magic was life, and the eye probably had been bathed in it multiple times. Chances were, it was less of an eye now and more of a focus, and as such he could use it.

“Lighthouses could also mean somewhere to avoid maybe?” Winston thought that it seemed like a long shot but whilst everyone was riffing and spitballing they might as well throw something against the wall and see if anything stuck. “Lighthouses are there to show where rocks are right, so maybe it’s something like that?” Winston wasn’t convinced. Listening carefully to Darwin’s suggestion, they thought for a moment before nodding carefully. “gimme a sec and I’ll get the eye, does anyone want anything from the kitchen while I’m there? I might get some snacks, I don’t remember when I last ate.” Dashing to the kitchen, Winston returned with arms laden with various treats and a carefully wrapped eye that had been retrieved from the lake and carefully stored in their fridge-freezer. “So, what exactly do you need us to do?” Winston was aware that this was something that could potentially be viewed as somewhat shady by other members of the magic community. But Winston had deliberately refused to join a coven to avoid any conflicts of interest like this and as long as everyone was volunteering and no one got hurt Winston wasn’t exactly sure what the problems were. The ethical implications seemed fairly clear cut for once.

“It’s true, in the literal sense that serves the dual purpose as both a warning, not to get too close and a signal that land is near. If I was more fluent in the language I may be able to tell some sort of difference. Just like English has its nuances to the language. Context clues provide a lot more detail when you’re trying to paint an entire picture. Unfortunately we’re going in sorta blind.” It wasn’t the most optimistic of views, but Orion was mostly pointing out that he was disappointed he hadn’t had more time to learn the language. Not that learning some creepy ancient demon language was particularly high on his priority list. The last thing he needed was to accidentally summon something, which would have been his luck. “You kinda ruined the appetite asking if we wanted food in the same sentence as saying you’ll grab the eyeball.” Rio shrugged. He had tried to wipe the memory of the eye from his memory anyways, so the idea of doing some creepy ritual using the thing was… well it wasn’t something Rio was about to jump for joy at. But it was the best shot they had at trying to piece some of the loose bits of information that they had together. Plus, Rio knew he was just going to go along with whatever Winston did anyways. Wasn’t that what he had been doing for weeks now? They were some kind of kryptonite. “This sounds terrifying but uh- I guess I don't have any other ideas. So let’s get started.”

“Context clues, that's exactly what I'm hoping to get from this little... Let's call it a seance, it's less unnerving than 'foreboding dark ritual'.” Darwin commented with another shrug, perhaps a bit too comfortable with the idea of digging through the memories of an eye that was most definitely part of some twisted cult. Most of what Darwin studied and did was considered questionable by the majority of other magic users, but as far as Darwin was concerned results were what mattered, and he got results. “I'm also going to need a bowl, one that you don't mind throwing away. And maybe some orange juice? I love me some orange juice.” While Winston was away, Darwin dug through his bag, taking out a carefully wrapped dagger, not unlike the one they've been studying for what felt like hours. The runes on his were of channeling and protection, of course, but to the uninitiated Darwin was sure it would've looked ominous; that's why he'd asked the juice: he figured the explanation of what they were about to do would be more comforting if given with such an unassuming drink in hand. “Mental magic is... Deceptively simple, even a beginner can pull off a trick or two. But here we're dealing with a dead thing, one that we don't know.” For a moment Darwin doubted himself, wondered if they were biting off more than they could chew. Then again, the alternative of not knowing was worse. “We need to bring life to it. Not necromancy, but... Still unpleasant. Blood is life, you see? By sharing our blood with the eye, we might restore some of its energy. And since the blood will be ours, we'll create a... A connection. And that is what will let us see through it. Hopefully. So... When you're ready just put the bowl between us and place the eye inside. I'll get us started.”

“You could just call it a plan, because seance isn’t at all better then dark foreboding ritual,” Winston reached up and adjusted their glasses again, pushing them further up their nose. Winston passed the orange juice and the bowl over to Darwin. “If we could avoid getting anything caught on fire that would be great, otherwise if we bin the bowl I can deal.” Winston watched curiously as Darwin pulled a dagger that look ritualistic from their bag and couldn’t help but admit that they felt a little jealous. They wished they had a ritual knife. Either way, Winston carefully unwrapped the eye and placed it in the center of the bowl so that the iris was facing the ceiling. The white of the eye looked a little less pure in that moment and Winston found the dark hazel iris really unnerving. “Shit, okay, I’ve never done blood magic, this is really cool,” Winston knew that they probably shouldn’t be excited about this but they loved trying new things and blood magic had been fascinating to read about, “oh god sorry this is just really fucking cool.” Unbuttoning the cuffs of their shirt, Winston rolled their sleeves up in anticipation, taking a deep shaky breath. “I’m ready when you are Rio.”

Nothing about a ritual or a seance sounded good to Rio. It sounded terrifying and pretty much every sense of the term. “Nothing’s gonna catch on fire! That would be crazy!” Rio was laughing now, convinced that Winston had meant it as a joke. But he quickly sombered up when he realized that he didn’t know much about the world that he was currently diving into. “Wait… like seriously? Woah.” Now he definitely didn’t want any part of this. But it was too late now. “Cool is definitely one word for it.” Rio mumbled in reply to Winston. Maybe Rio was a little excited, but only because he had never seen anything like this before. He would have much rather read about it afterwards or watched it from afar rather than experience it himself. Winston was unrolling their sleeves to get ready. In the movies, didn’t they always use the palm of their hands for some reason? Rio wasn’t thrilled at the idea of rolling up his own sleeves. Now wasn’t the time to have to explain the scars that laid beneath his hoodie, but he would if he had to. For now, he just held his hand out towards Darwin, shutting his eyes and bracing himself for the pain. “Let’s get started.”

Darwin smiled again, doing his best to be reassuring when he noticed Rio's reluctance. “This is more within the realm of mental magic, to be fair. Blood is an ingredient, but the focus of the ritual will be to connect our minds to the eye. Blood magic is... Not my specialty. But like all the Arts, magic often draws its power from multiple sources.” It felt good to share his knowledge with these two. Darwin was used to working alone, and before that he was used to being the apprentice, never the mentor. He wasn't a fan of the responsibility that came with the role, but the admiration? He ate that up. “I should also warn you... Mental magic is subtler than other branches. There won't be any fireworks in this particular spell, so no fire hazard. But that doesn't make it any less powerful, and there's a good chance we won't be seeing rainbows and unicorns, so be prepared for anything. Am I making myself clear?” He waited, letting his silence weigh heavily on the other two as he moved the small flame from his lighter across the blade. “Here we go.”

Before Rio could have any second thoughts, Darwin grabbed his wrist, gently yet firmly. The scars were noticed, but Darwin spared them no thought, too focused on his task. A small cut on Rio's palm was all it took, and Darwin tried to make it as quick and painless as possible, offering Rio an apologetic smile. Then it was Winston's turn to go through the same process. “Let the blood drip in the bowl and look at the eye. Look through the eye, let it show you what we seek.” Darwin winced as he sliced his own palm, a shallow wound that quickly drew a thin red line on his hand. He closed his fist above the bowl and let the blood flow, drop by drop. Words of power followed in a low whisper. Those well versed with languages might recognize words such as 'connection' and 'sight', and what sounded like a request. In his rituals Darwin never demanded, only suggested: he wouldn't taint his magic with slavery, he was better than that. The other two followed his example, letting their own blood mix with his in the bowl. The air around them grew cold, and then impossibly hot, and the red liquid started to react to Darwin's energy. Small ripples at first, and then bubbles as the blood started to boil. And then something unexpected happened. Darwin felt a surge in power, one he hadn't anticipated, strong enough that he was sure the other two must have sensed it too. Darwin looked at them with what could only be described as panic on his face as he realized he was unable to stop the ritual: another force, one Darwin didn't recognize, was pulling from the other side, keeping him from severing the connection. The eye started rotating in the bowl, spinning faster and faster, focusing its dead pupil on each of the three. They'd wanted a connection, alright, but this ran deeper than Darwin expected. Smoke rose from the bowl as the level of the boiling blood kept rising. Darwin felt his own eyes moving in sync with the dead eyeball, and then he stared in horror as the dead thing stopped moving and started to melt like candle wax. The last thing he saw were three red tendrils slide up, towards their closed fists still dripping blood in the bowl. He felt his hand being opened by force and something slide inside the small cut he'd make. And then, he saw.

Third eyes were really not what Winston had expected from this. Not at all. But as the blood spiralled from the bowl and funnelled into their hand, Winston could really see. For the first time ever. It was different from normal sight. They could still see everything in front of them, but somehow they could also see everything else that the eye was showing them. Winston looked down and saw the eye that had been in the bowl was somehow set into their palm and for a second they could see their own face looking down at the eye and then there was darkness. A thick fog enveloped their vision and when it began to clear Winston could feel sweat pouring down their back, their legs shook but the vision kept going. The fog was getting less thick now and Winston spotted a light in the distance, and then another one, and then another, the lights slowly blinking open. Wait, no, they weren’t lights, rather giant eyes that rolled and spun to fixate on Winston. Bloodshot veins ran through the eyes in jagged lightning bolts of crimson and scarlet, cutting across the pale white backdrop of the eye. The irises seemed to spiral and blur, running into one another in a constant never ending whirlpool that was somehow spiralling and still all at once. The eyes didn’t seem to have a body to them, and yet they sat their, hanging in the darkness and blinking. There was a creature, Winston couldn’t see it’s body. Just it’s mouth. A long, purple, leathery skin covered a jaw that protruded from the darkness. Long, jagged and uneven teeth stick from the bottom lip. The teeth are cracked, scarred and chipped, they’re clearly used to tear and grind. To mash and chew. To rip and maim. Yet they’re a perfect, snow white. The colour of which Winston has never seen. The colour so bright that you can see it in the darkness before you notice the rest of the mouth.

At first, Orion had no idea what was going on. Whatever magic Darwin was using, it seemed to be working. He was mumbling about seeing, a rather pointed line considering they were pouring their blood over a frozen eyeball. But then the eyeball leapt. Or moved or did something and suddenly it was attached to Winston. “What the heck is it doing to him?” Rio yelled out, beginning to move but suddenly being unable to. Oh god, this must be part of the spell or maybe it was something the eye was doing to them. Rio had no idea what was going on. But he had a sense of dread that had washed over him as he suddenly felt like he was being watched. He didn’t know the full scope of it until the eye hopped from Winston’s eye and began sliding across his arm, the tendons trailing behind the eye as it scurried to its new victim. Finally, it hopped over to Rio, still unable to move or jerk away from it. Goosebumps shot up his arms when the eye touched him and it easily slid into the cut that Darwin had made.As soon as the eye latched on, that’s when Rio figured out the true scope of why he had felt being watched. He could see them. Thousands of eyes. Some attached to the walls and some their own lone creatures, chained down and jerking around, ooze and blood dripping from them as they fought to be freed. What was this? Rio could only hear the room they were in, but whatever he was seeing seemed so real, so disgustingly vivid that he felt like he could hear the chains rattling and the sound of blood dripping onto the floor. Worse, it was like the monsters were staring right at him. The veins that ran through the eyes were dark red and blood escaped from them, coating the eyes with streaks of blood mixing together with all the others, creating a sea of blood between the monsters. It wasn’t like anything that Rio had ever seen before. He had never felt so dark or scared in his entire life. He could feel the tears escaping his own eyes. He needed these visions to stop. Jesus, he would do anything to make it all stop.

The notes and screens in the room blended together with visions of bones and raw muscles pulsing to a macabre beat, and Darwin couldn't make out what was real and what was just a cruel trick of the eye. There was something malicious in it, something ancient and powerful that he could not hope to push back. He stood there, cold sweat sticking to his neck as he was helpless to stop what was happening. Darwin witnessed Winston and Rio being assaulted by that dark, foreboding energy that had been awakened by the spell, he watched as the eye moved from one to the other. And then he knew, it was his turn next. Unable to react, Darwin swallowed back an anguished scream as the eyeball disappeared from Rio's hand, but when the evil sphere latched onto his own hand and made its way inside the pocket he'd unknowingly carved for it he was unable to hold back a whimper, equal parts fear and pain, and he turned around in a futile attempt to escape. His vision blurred, and the room was replaced with a terrible sight. Barren lands, grey hills covered with dark mist and darker thorns, haunted by creatures that he'd only read about, and some he never even imagined. Black leathery wings surrounded him, a swarm of bats with luminescent claws. He raised his hand to protect his face, the eye still blinking ominously on his palm, and when Darwin lowered the arm he was met with another sight, a mass of monsters. Hounds, and grotesque hybrids that vaguely looked humanoid, some of them dripping what looked like acid. Fangs and screeches surrounded him and Darwin grabbed his head and knelt down, crawling back. “No, no, stop!” That last word was an anguished scream, covered by the sound of the bowl falling to the floor. His back was against the small table, his breath heavy. He looked around, and everything looked just like it had before they'd begun the ritual: sticky notes covered the walls, empty cans of energy drinks were scattered all over, books were exactly like they'd left them. Finally he stood up and turned to face the other two, voice trembling. “Are... Are you alright? Did you see?” With a sudden realization, Darwin lowered his eyes to his hand. Instead of the cut he saw what could only be described as a closed eyelid, but of the eye no trace. “The... The eye. Where is it?”

Drenched in sweat, Winston could feel their clothes sticking to their skin. Their exhaustion was beyond palpable. Their chest rose and fell in laboured attempts to drag oxygen to their brain as a bead of perspiration rolled down the end of their nose and dripped onto the floor with a plop that was so quiet it deafened Winston. Looking down at their hand, the eye had returned to their palm and was looking back up at them, but the visions of the monsters had stopped. “It’s in my hand,” Winston said with a wince as they flashed them their right palm and showed them the beady eye sat in the center of their limb. “Fuck, that, was weird as shit. Do you think- do you think that is what the cult is trying to do?” They had seen terrible terrible things. monsters that they hadn’t ever been able to comprehend previously. Ghoulish creatures with bones that jutted through skin at odd angles, razor sharp teeth and talons, rough skin, scales, fur and eyes. So many eyes. They bored into Winston’s brain as they did everything that they could to forget the terrible things that they had seen. A tear rolled down the side of Winston’s face as they sat there, exhausted. “Oh fuck, that was pretty fucking bad wasn’t it?”

#i spy with my little eye #p: darwin #p: orion #wickedswriting #chatzy para #chatzy #para

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cumulohimbus · 6 years ago

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100 things I want to do in my lifetime

So, I had a really good conversation today with friends, and I opened up briefly about my stay in a psych ward a few years ago. It came up because I am acutely aware that I haven't been doing well, and am scared to return to a situation anything like my previous stay at said ward despite knowing that being hospitalized would probably be very beneficial at this time in my life. Talking about it did make me remember something though, something that gave me a lot of hope. While my experience with a psych ward was overwhelmingly negative, there was a part of treatment that really got through to me at the time. It especially helped with my suicidal ideation, which is something that's been really problematic for me again lately. Since I remembered it, I'm going to revisit the exercise, and I encourage anyone and everyone who also struggles with suicidal thoughts, thoughts of self harm, mental health issues, or even if you're just having a bad day, to give this a try. It's simple. Make a list of 100 things you want to do in your life. They can be as realistic or unrealistic as you want them to be. They can be big, long-term goals, or small, silly goals, and everything in between. The only rules are to write 100 things, and to avoid sarcastic or pessimistic things like saying one of your goals is to die or something like that. Save the list! Then someday you can go back and cross off things that you've accomplished or edit as you see necessary. Without further ado, here is my list:

1. I want to get my name legally changed to Larkspur Emmett so my dead name is no more

2. I want to get top surgery

3. I want to rekindle relationships within my family, especially with my cousins

4. I want to get scuba certified

5. I want to dive over the "sunken island" location on the lake my family had a cabin on that I visited frequently while growing up

6. I want to go diving in general, seeing a coral reef in person is an especially huge dream of mine

7. I want to rekindle my knowledge of the Spanish language and eventually become fluent

8. I want to continue learning American Sign Language

9. I want to learn more about my ancestry; I know I'm a vast mix of probably mostly European blood, but my family comes from so many different places and I'd like to know more about them

10. I want to finish the art commission I started for my close friend

11. I want to travel to places like Costa Rica, Japan, Chile, and Australia

12. I want to go on exotic travel adventures with a future romantic partner or close friend

13. I want to get my Bachelor's degree

14. I want to earn enough money to live comfortably, probably with pets

15. I want to adopt a pembroke welsh corgi

16. I want to beat my eating disorder(s) for good and be able to stop taking medication to help if at all possible

17. I want to go ziplining

18. I want to go skydiving

19. I want to hike through the Monteverde biological cloud forest reserve in Costa Rica

20. I want to develop a drag persona and perform as my persona on a regular basis

21. I want to make a fursuit (yes I said it, fite me)

22. I want to finish an entire animated music video

23. I want to learn more about plants and successfully keep one alive for longer than a year

24. I want to try my hand at raising an ant colony

25. I want to go swimming more often

26. I want to learn more martial arts

27. I want to learn to be a leader in my community

28. I want to work harder in my college classes

29. I want to learn to not fear loneliness and abandonment, and to appreciate my alone time

30. I want to get (many) more self-designed tattoos

31. I want to continue learning how to appreciate my body without caring about other people's opinions on what is considered "attractive"

32. I want to eat more whole foods both because they're healthy for me and taste far better than anything with chemicals in it

33. I want to meet a few famous people in person, can't think of many off the top of my head though, but I know there are a couple

34. I want to take dance classes again

35. I want to learn how to play a musical instrument (I mean, I took 7 years of piano and can kinda read music, but I wanna learn an instrument that's better suited for short fingers lolol, maybe french horn?)

36. I want to finish the paintings I've started

37. I want to learn how to digitally render things realistically

38. I want to finish the fanfiction piece I started a couple years ago

39. I want to become more patient and less envious

40. I want to heccing fly, okay?

41. I want to feel like relaxation is deserved and expected, and not a luxury only for those who can afford it

42. I want to reassemble an animal skeleton

43. I want to dig up a fossil (specifically of some sort of mesozoic creature, that'd be so cool)

44. I want to get back to using my planner

45. I want to play more (board, card, video, etc.) games with my friends

46. I want to disassociate less and be present in the real world more often

47. I want to be more informed about what is going on both in general, but especially in my more immediate environment

48. I want to take up better drawing habits (more life drawing, warm ups, breaks, etc.)

49. I want to try a real goddamn piña colada, bonus points if it's on the beach

50. I want to try existing in a portable living situation, like a renovated bus or van, for a while

51. I want to learn basic wilderness survival skills

52. I want to learn how to identify many different species of all types of organisms, especially plants and animals

53. I want to get my vehicle fixed up nice and maybe hand paint some things on it

54. I want to learn more about different cultures because they're fascinating and I want to be as respectful of all people as I possibly can be

55. I want to paint the waterfall jungle mural of my dreams in my future house

56. I want to gain better control of my emotions and my responses to them

57. I want to fabricate a working pair of wings for human beings

58. I want to learn/do more embroidery

59. I want to get a cerulean blue Corvette stingray

60. I want to get better about not procrastinating

61. I want to go to more events/be more involved wherever I am

62. I want to go for more walks to places I haven't been to before, bonus points if it's in the middle of the night and/or in the rain

63. I want to do things like play in inflatable obstacle courses and ride on roller coasters without caring about whether other people judge me for doing those things as an adult

64. I want to regain the physical strength I have lost from being sedentary while my mental health has been at its lowest

65. I want to spend more time laying in the sunshine, preferably with the bare minimum of clothes on because I enjoy the warmth on my skin

66. I want to cuddle more with others that feel comfortable enough to participate in that with me

67. I want to learn more about the fabrication of clothing and design/make some outfits for myself

68. I want to cosplay, maybe go to a convention sometime

69. I want to go skinny dipping >:3 (look, it's number 69 on the list, okay?)

70. I want to try all sorts of foods I've never had before

71. I want to see a butterfly leaving its cocoon in real life again

72. I want to read more of the books I own

73. I want to be kissed by someone again...it's been over 4 years...

74. I want to eliminate my habit of requiring a Youtube gaming playlist to be playing in order for me to fall asleep

75. I want to learn more about the history of the lgbtqia2s+ community

76. I want to learn how to cook for myself better, and like, actually use those skills on a regular basis

77. I want to learn how to take care of my vehicle better on my own, like how to change a tire and such

78. I want to learn to communicate better, and just, in general how to be the best friend I can be

79. I want to stop using all substances for the purpose of drowning out my surroundings and messing with my temporal senses, if I'm going to drink/smoke/get high/whatever, I want it to be because I want to for fun, not because I want the chemicals to take the edge off my mental illness(es)

80. I want to start taking better care of my dental hygiene

81. I want to learn more about my legal rights and finances and other "adult" stuff that doesn't really get taught to you unless you specifically go looking for it

82. You know the somewhat obnoxious game Bop It? Yeah, I want one of those again, keeps me entertained for a long time

83. I want to design more things in general, more characters and their outfits and personalities and the worlds they live in, I enjoy that

84. I want to spend more time outdoors with my friends, watch sunsets and collect miscellaneous objects from the universe and such

85. I want to teach someone something, sit down and maybe teach someone how I draw or about something that I am at least somewhat knowledgeable about

86. I want to go to more aquariums; if/when I travel more I want to go to every aquarium I come across

87. I want to start a legit collection of something and like, build it up over a long period of time so it gets pretty impressive

88. I want to get my eyes surgically corrected so I don't have to wear glasses or fiddle with contacts

89. I want to learn more about Greek and Latin roots and just words and symbolism in general

90. I want to lose the embarrassment I have about my hyperfixations because I deserve to not feel ashamed of the things that bring me satisfaction and joy, and it's okay if other people don't share my enthusiasm about such things, I just want to learn to not be embarrassed that I like stuff

91. I want to get over my fears/discomfort re: nudity, especially for life drawing classes; see, it's one thing to see someone nude and divert my eyes but for life drawing I'm kinda forced to look...

92. I want to understand myself better and learn to love me instead of the opposite; I want to be full of love for the beautiful people around me and I want to really solidify in my brain that I am one of those beautiful people

93. I want to do more things for others that are meaningful because that makes me happy, and I want to learn to do those things while also respecting everyone's, including my own, boundaries

94. I want to develop a sleep schedule that is healthy and appropriate, and that I'm able to maintain

95. I want to run in the rain more often and jump in puddles (edit: while typing this it started storming out and I had to run outside in my bunny pajama short-shorts, winter boots, and a sweatshirt, to grab my box of silly plant seed experiments before they blew away, so progress is already being made)

96. I want to get over my intense fear of making phone calls

97. I want to learn how to sing better with my new and improved deeper voice from being on Testosterone

98. I want to get my first tattoo fixed up and hopefully renew the meaning it had to me at the time that I got it -- I want to try to keep that promise

99. I want to spend more time actively working on improving my mental health

100. I want to see more, I want to learn more, I want to do more, I want to be the version of myself that is genuinely amazed and curious by all manner of things, and I know that part of me is still there

And now, once you've finished your list, you have 100 reasons to not give up, because there's no way of knowing what you're capable of doing if you don't exist to try.

#long post #for future reference #silver writes #mental health things #but positive #100 things i want to do #i'll add a keep reading thing later #can't figure out how to do that on mobile

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daniactuallysnuffledthatpopcorn · 6 years ago

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Home for Christmas (Part 3 of 4)

Summary: Every year Dan goes to a ballet performance of the Nutcracker around Christmas (he even starts to enjoy it after a while), but what he’s really waiting for is the nights he gets to spend with one of the lead dancers after the show.

Rating: M

Word count: 7.3K (20.3K total so far)

[A/N] Hope you enjoy my Christmas mini-series!

<-- part two

Start at the beginning

As the new year crawled by Dan found himself tempted to google Phil’s name more and more with each passing day.

When university started back up after Christmas break and he found himself surrounded by the people who had to get used to seeing him without Rosie he caught himself just before pressing enter multiple times, erasing the words he’d typed and turning off his phone screen before he could change his mind again. He tried to avoid running into her, sometimes going as far as skipping dinner because she was sat in the kitchen, until he no longer felt his phone burning in his pocket watching her tending to her pans at the stove. Until he no longer had the pressing urge to get out of town every chance he got, visiting Eleanor on the weekly.

Final exams rolled in way too fast and left him feeling wholly unprepared. No matter how many study dates and trips to the library he set up, it never seemed to be enough. Law books were big and heavy, pulling on him with every step that brought him closer to the exam halls. Eleanor, whose exams didn’t start until the day after his, stayed with him and made him a full fry for breakfast the morning before his first test. It was her way of trying to offer her support when she knew that as a neurosciences student she was completely useless when it came to helping him study.

Although he liked to think he was fully over Rosie by May, it still gave him some sort of satisfaction when Eleanor gave a resolute “yes” to his ex’s polite “you alright?” as they sat at the kitchen table.

He wondered how she would greet Phil if she knew the ins and outs of their agreement. His phone lit up, signalling a new Snap from Davis.

Summer was a gift from god.

After missing their November weekend together Dan and Eleanor spent a whole week exploring Rome in early August, completely avoiding the topics of love lives and university and focusing on sunshine and gelato and the ancient history they were walking around in on their flipflops. They held hands the way they’d done in primary school, before they hit puberty and girls and boys weren’t supposed to do that kind of stuff anymore. Before they cared about what anyone thought of their relationship.

Dan neglected to mention to her that on the last night, when she went to the bathroom as they were having a couple of drinks at the hotel bar, an Irish boy slipped him a napkin with a string of numbers on it accompanied by the words, “if you’re not interested feel free to bin this, but otherwise, text me”. Dan shoved it in his pocket, where it stayed until he got back to his parents’ house in London and he unpacked his suitcase. He stood with the paper in his hand for a minute or so, and then another few minutes staring at the new contact in his phone.

Sat cross-legged on the bed he carefully crafted a message. As he was typing it took everything from his willpower not to close the app and go to google. To just type in that one name that he’d put into that bar so many times before. Instead, he resolutely tapped the ‘send’ button and then proceeded to put his phone under his pillow to leave it there for the next couple of hours.

When Nicholas replied he was almost surprised. They spent the next couple of weeks texting and although Dan had initially been sceptical, the more he learnt about Nick, the more he felt that there might be something and he might not need to be stuck on his Christmas dates for the rest of his life.

Nick was nice. Genuinely nice. He was a good listener, made jokes at the right time, and had an intricate knowledge of all kinds of animals as he was studying to become a vet. Dan found himself looking forward to the evenings when Nick got home from placement and the two of them could Skype call before they went to bed. Long nights were spent lying on his back on the carpet, feet propped up against the side of his desk, phone tucked comfortably between his shoulder and his ear. He could hear the Irish boy smile through the phone.

He liked Nick. He really did. But when in early October he asked him that dreaded question, “so, what are we?”, Dan couldn’t stop his fight or flight response from kicking in. Unsure of whether he feared commitment to a boy or commitment to anyone at all, he broke it off.

From there on, things went downhill. Fast.

One of the boys Dan lived with dropped out, meaning they had to either find a new flatmate or a new place, and the others’ half-hearted search for a house stressed him out. University was pulling on him like a ball on a chain and the words danced before his eyes on the nights he tried to catch up with the stacks of work accumulating on his desk. Eleanor’s ugly selfies sent over snapchat were only doing so much to put a smile on his face, their effects diminishing with every day.

Two weeks after Reuben had left, Dan sent in his student withdrawal form.

Three days later, he found the courage to tell his parents, sat on Eleanor’s bed with one hand in hers and the other hand clutching the phone held to his ear. Everything was falling apart, but the one constant he could always count on was his best friend always being right by his side.

Dan moved back home hesitantly. His old bedroom felt too small for him and his hometown was full of eyes watching him, knowing he didn’t belong there anymore.

What did he actually want to do with his life? He had no idea, really. His new job at an electronics shop was not it though, that was for damn sure. It had him drifting through the days, every week feeling like the last, endless and exhausting. To pass the time he messed around with the products when he got bored, feeling professional when he pressed buttons on the DJ sets knowing what they did, and adjusting camera lenses with expert eyes. In those moments he felt for a moment like he was on the right path, just not knowing where it would lead him yet.

In mid-December Dan used his first wages to buy one of those fancy cameras. He spent hours in his bedroom sat cross-legged on the floor adjusting settings and filming little test videos, the reality of his world forgotten for a precious while.

Four days before Christmas Dan planted the camera up on one of his book shelves, fixed his hair in the mirror for exactly two minutes longer than necessary, and then pressed the record button.

He filmed his first video in one go, with rambling tangents and awkward pauses to edit out later, which he did the day after, when he got home from work. He was tired. After a nine-hour day the last thing his eyes wanted to do was focus deeply on something for another couple of hours. One by one his family members went to bed, the sounds of their bedroom doors closing reaching Dan even through his headphones. In the morning, when his alarm would go off at half seven again, he’d hate himself for this, but that felt well worth it when he clicked ‘upload’ and watched the bar load up to a 100%. It was two in the morning when his first ever YouTube video went live.

Dan and Eleanor had bought tickets for the ballet in early December almost out of habit. There had been no discussing it, just Eleanor asking if he’d already bought them or if she should. On the day before Christmas Eve she picked him up in her car, blasting Mariah Carey so loud Dan could hear it the moment he stepped out the front door. She was wearing a beautiful silver dress and had her hair braided back so her elegant hoop earrings were clearly visible. He complimented her as he plopped down in the passenger seat of her Volkswagen.

He tried to play it cool, but it was difficult to do so when he’d been looking forward to this night for months. It felt on the verge of pathetic, but his monotonous job left him with plenty of headspace to contemplate all that could happen and might be in the future. He’d lived this day and the next dozens of times over in his head stood behind the counter smiling artificially at customers as he rang up their purchases.

They knew their way around the theatre by now. They knew where to find the coat room, and the fact that it cost 50p per coat, and they knew the quickest route up to the balcony and the toilet closest to it. Dan ran his hands over the balustrade as they walked to their spots. The place was still fully lit, giving him a view of the seats and the stage below. Two little girls were on stage in front of the curtains, doing pirouettes and falling out of them with big grins decorating their little faces. He stood and watched them for a moment, until he felt Eleanor demonstratively lean over the railing next to him. “You excited?” She asked.

“Yeah, I guess.” He said without tearing his gaze away from the kids.

“Have you spoken to him at all since last year?”

Dan shook his head, “I don’t even have his number. I don’t know his last name or anything.”

“Really? I thought you had a somewhat regulated plan.”

“If we’re both single by Christmas, we spend the night together. That’s it, that’s the whole plan.”

She laughed, “You’re a bit of a disaster, Dan.”

“I know.” He said. He sighed deeply, leaning further down until his chin came to rest on his hands. “I’ve given up trying to sort this out, I’m just along for the ride now.”

She didn’t respond, but without needing to look over Dan knew she was rolling her eyes at him.

They watched the girls dance until they were ushered off the stage and the lights started to dim. The hall had filled up quite a bit since they’d turned their back on the balcony, and they had to shuffle past grumbly chic people annoyed they had to move their legs to let them past. It was Dan and El’s third year. They were used to the rich people by now.

The lead dancers had all changed. He recognised the previous lead as one of the background dancers, along with a couple of others who’d had big roles the years before. Phil was nowhere to be found. Dan had a heavy feeling in his stomach as he watched them float across the stage. Eleanor noticed too, taking her best friend’s hand in hers and squeezing it tightly. They exchanged a short glance, but Dan couldn’t bear looking her in the eyes for too long, too embarrassed about his situation and the hope he’d displayed before the show. She knew he’d been excited for their meeting and Phil’s not being there made him feel ashamed, naive almost. His eyes absentmindedly followed the ballerinas, not really taking anything in.

Eleanor kept a firm grip on his hand, pulling him downstairs to the bar and pushing a glass of champagne into his hand. She wasn’t sure what to say either, clearly. Dan could see the radars in her head spin as she tried to come up with a way to comfort him.

“Dan?”

He saw Eleanor’s eyes light up before he turned and faced the person who’d said his name.

Phil was wearing slacks and a button-down shirt, his hair neatly swept to one side. He looked older, more mature. Dan was glad Eleanor had made him dress up that year, so he knew he looked good. He subconsciously reached up and tugged on his tie a bit as he looked the dancer up and down.

“It’s good to see you.” He managed to say.

“You too.” Phil said.

“I thought you might not be here this year.”

“I’m not on the team anymore. Not as a dancer, at least. I’ve taken up that coaching position like I told you I might last year, I’m assistant coach now.”

“Wow, congratulations.”

Phil laughed, “It’s not that spectacular, I’m not sure if it deserves congratulations.”

“Well, you’ve done better for yourself than I have.” Dan said. It was out there before he could stop himself, and the moment he’d said it he was afraid he’d enclosed too much information about his personal life.

“You can tell me all about it after the show,” Phil said, “I have to get back to the team now. I was just coming to say hi and make sure you knew I was here. Backdoor?”

“Yep, see you there.”

“Perfect.”

He watched Phil leave before turning around to face Eleanor, who had a smug look on her face. “See, it’s all fine.” She said.

“You say that now, but you were afraid he wouldn’t be here too.”

“Maybe.” She admitted. She touched her champagne glass to his, “Cheers to another fun night for you.”

“And cheers for hopefully one for you. You deserve one.”

He meant it. After Nicola cheated on her six months into their relationship she’d stayed away from boys for a while, but a week earlier she’d said she might try and pull on the 23rd of December, for the first time in months. He watched her eye a guy standing behind them as she nodded and took a sip of her drink. “I sure do.”

Dan couldn’t help but break into a smile when he watched Phil approach. He was stopped a few times along the way to shake hands and receive pats on the shoulder, but eventually he made it over and to Dan’s surprise he leaned in and kissed him right in front of everyone. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, can you just leave?”

Phil nodded. “Let’s walk.”

The moment they stepped out into the cold Dan glanced over to see if Phil would change his mind about walking, but he didn’t. They both put up the collars on their coats and bowed their heads against the wind. Dan had his hands shoved deep into his pockets until he felt Phil’s fingers brush against his wrist. Wordlessly, their fingers intertwined and fell between their two bodies.

“It was a good performance.” Dan said eventually.

He saw Phil nod from the corner of his eye, “They trained their little hearts out. The lead got sick three days ago, so this was the understudy performing. She’d never had this big a role before and was so nervous, bless her.” He smiled to himself.

“When did you start coaching?”

“With the start of the new schoolyear, this September. I still dance too, just not on this team anymore. I’ve stopped competing too, I’m just doing it for fun on the side now.”

“That must’ve been a transition.”

“Yeah, I struggled with it a bit. Still do, really. I miss it, but I know this is where I need to be and what I need to be doing.”

Dan stayed quiet. His mind drifted to his own situation, how he was far from where he needed to be. He bit his lip, face numb with the cold.

Phil squeezed his hand. The only comfort he could offer without asking too much about his life outside of their Christmas dates.

The hotel was a twenty-minute walk from the theatre, and when they finally stepped into the lobby Dan’s whole body started stinging as the warmth from inside hit him. Next to him, Phil rubbed his hands together and blew on them. His cheeks were bright red, shimmering in the bright lights. Dan couldn’t help remarking in his mind that he looked cute and kissable.

They took the lift up. Hand-in-hand once again, eyes shyly meeting through their reflections in the mirror. The third time and still it felt new and exciting.

There was only one big, king-sized bed in the room this year. Phil’s suitcase was on the floor by the desk with a couple of items strewn over the chair.

“So, I have a suggestion. You can say no if you want.”

“Okay.” Dan said, raising his eyebrows.

“I brought a really nice bath bomb. From Lush. The bath is fairly spacious.”

“Yes?”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

Phil grabbed him by his tie and pulled him in, their lips touching together gently.

They got undressed as the bath ran in the other room. Phil was still as toned and gorgeous as he had been the years before and Dan’s fingers itched to reach out and touch him. He had to have patience. Soon enough, they’d be bunched up in the bath, with no other choice but to touch each other.

The bath bomb fizzed and coloured the water a pale, glittery blue. Phil lined up the little hotel shampoos and soaps on the side, his muscles flexing under his taut skin as he moved. Dan’s eyes were glued to him, mesmerised.

“You good?”

“Yeah.”

Phil got in first, settling in comfortably before beckoning Dan over. The latter was hesitant, trying to be elegant about it and almost slipping in the process. A small tidal wave splashed over the side of the bath as he steadied himself on the tap. Phil laughed. He was relaxed, with his head resting against the wall and his arms stretched out over the sides of the bath. The hot water made Dan want to relax, but the situation was so foreign and new to him that he was struggling to keep his composure altogether and was happy enough when he finally settled down with his knees pulled into his chest.

The bath water being blue obscured most areas Dan was insecure about from sight, and soon enough he was relaxing his legs, stretching them out alongside Phil’s. “So, how was your year?” Phil asked.

He was good at asking those questions that could be answered by pretty much anything, leaving the decision as to where to draw the line with Dan once again. “Good,” the latter said hesitantly, “it was a ride.”

Phil laughed, “Yeah, me too.”

“I’m- I was in university before. I dropped out.” Phil didn’t seem to judge him, just nodding encouragingly for Dan to go on. “So, I work in a store now. Trying to, you know, sort out my life and all.”

“What do you want to do when you’re older?”

“I don’t know, die maybe.”

“Okay, that’s valid. But before that?”

Dan shrugged, “I don’t know, honestly.”

Phil decided not to press anymore, and Dan quickly took the opportunity to ask about his year.

“It was good. I went on my last Europe tour as a member of the team instead of a coach, so that was a bit bittersweet. I’m excited to coach though. Oh, I finally moved out, too. Was about time.” He laughed, the water moving off him in little waves.

Dan put on his underwear before he dried any other part of his body. Phil had no such inclination, stood in the middle of the hotel room stark-naked while drying his hair. The bed looked cosy and inviting, and although the room was warm enough Dan longed to curl up under the covers for a while.

Wearing just his pants he crawled into bed and pulled the duvet up to his chin. While he waited for the other to finish up, he grabbed the remote control off the bedside table and turned the TV on to a radio station that was playing Christmas songs. The only thing this atmosphere needed to be perfect was a little scented candle, but Dan would settle for this.

“So, I’ve been waiting pretty much all year to make out with you. Do you mind doing that for a while before we decide what to do with the rest of our night?”

Dan grinned, “I think I’m alright with that.”

Phil slipped under the covers with him and pushed him down onto his back. Dan laced his fingers through Phil’s mildly damp hair as they kissed. Maybe his flight response to Nicholas’ question had had less to do with the question of commitment to either a boy or anyone, and more to do with the fact that he was already committed to something. To a 24 hours period just before Christmas.

Phil’s hands were a bit cold roaming his sides. They sent shivers down his spine, but he did nothing to stop them.

Soon enough they were both warmed up and their almost naked bodies moved together, arousal already showing. Every time Phil’s hips touched against Dan’s thigh it sent a pleasant shiver to his dick, his fingers tightening against Phil’s hair and skin. It was pretty clear that ‘what they would be doing with the rest of their night’ wasn’t much of a question, really. With the way hands and mouths were moving this was only going in one direction.

Phil’s lips had trailed off, going from Dan’s neck to his chest and down to his belly. Looking down at him Dan watched the trail of faint hickeys grace down from his throat to the waistband of his boxers. Phil had already moved on, his breath ghosting over the bulge in the fabric and his hands moving up Dan’s thighs with confidence.

Although one part of his brain was focused solely on the fact that a very attractive boy was about to give him a blowjob, the other part of him couldn’t help but think about what would happen after. The memory of last year was still fresh in his mind to put a slight damper on his excitement. He wanted to try again. The thought of actually having sex with Phil made his whole body tingle, but it was also scary. It was like losing his virginity all over again, where he had no idea what he was doing, and he just had to surrender all control to another, more experienced party.

For a few minutes though, Dan’s mind was completely taken off anything he could possibly worry about as Phil pulled down his underwear and put his mouth on him. He started by teasing along the shaft with his tongue, one hand holding him firmly by the base and the other with fingertips barely grazing along his balls. Dan opened his eyes for a moment, glancing down at the sight below him. A soft sound escaped from the back of his throat before his eyes closed again.

Phil was an expert. His mouth and hands moved just right, and much sooner than he wanted to Dan had to nudge him off to stop him from finishing him off. “Can we try last year again?”

“Are you sure you want to?” Phil sat up on his heels. He needed no further explanation; he knew what Dan meant.

“Yeah. I want to try, at least.”

“I don’t want to say something stupid, but as it didn’t work last time, are you sure you really want it? Don’t do it for me, I’m doing perfectly fine without it.”

“No, yes, I mean- I really want it. I do. I’m just scared of the pain.”

“I’ll go very slow. The moment it doesn’t feel nice you give me a shout and I stop or take a step back, okay?”

“Okay.” Dan breathed.

The two of them kicked off their boxers, Dan pulling Phil back down for a quick kiss, but neither of them had much patience for a make out session knowing what was on the table now.

Phil had lube at the ready, spreading it on his fingers and pressing soft butterfly kisses to Dan’s abdomen as his hand moved down. Dan closed his eyes. He felt more vulnerable than he ever had before. He was clutching at the sheets, but Phil carefully took one of his hands in his and said in a hushed tone, “Squeeze my hand. Let me know if I do something wrong.”

He kissed Dan’s thigh while he pushed a finger in. Dan made a sound and Phil’s movements stilled, but he squeezed his hand, urging him to go on.

He took it slow. Like he promised. He gave Dan time to adjust before putting a second finger in, and eventually let go of Dan’s hand to tease his dick a bit, moving up and down in excruciatingly slow strokes. His whole body was on fire, feelings things he’d never felt before.

Eventually, after what felt like forever, Phil called him back to attention by pulling his fingers out and putting both hands on his hips, “You doing okay?”

“Yeah.”

“I think you’re well enough prepared, if you’re still up for it.”

“I am.”

“Okay.”

Dan’s eyes followed Phil as he hopped off the bed and got a condom from his suitcase. He tore open the wrapper and rolled the condom onto himself with practised fingers, putting some extra lube on himself after. The actions of someone who’d done this before and knew the pitfalls.

“Okay?”

Dan nodded. His throat was slightly closed up with nerves, but as Phil settled in between his legs he felt no urge to move away. Rather, he felt an impatient pull in his stomach, his dick twitching at the thought of what was about to happen.

The moment Phil’s tip grazed his entrance Dan closed his eyes and let his head fall back. He focused on relaxing, aided by Phil’s soothing hand on his side, rubbing circled into his skin with his thumb. Being filled up felt weird, and it just kept coming until finally he felt Phil bottom out. He was given a few moments to adjust, catch his breath, which he took reluctantly. He wanted to move on. Desperate already even though he only had to wait a few seconds.

“Go.” He muttered hoarsely.

Phil started slow. A practice run.

His hands were firmly holding on to Dan’s hips as he started speeding up little by little. Every time his hips touched against Dan and he was fully filled up, Dan let out a shaky breath. He had no idea how long Phil was going to last, but he didn’t think he had a lot of time in him. His dick was aching to be touched but he knew he’d come very quickly if he gave into the urge.

“How are you doing?” Phil asked. The question came out breathily, the words clearly an effort to utter.

“Good. Too good, maybe.” Phil gave him a questioning look, but Dan took a few seconds to recover before he continued, “I’m getting close.”

“Me too.”

“Touch me.” There was nothing in him that could muster up even the slightest bit of politeness. Phil didn’t need any. His hand reached down, and fingers wrapped firmly around him. It only took a few firm strokes in time with his hips to make Dan emit a desperate little sound and come all over his own belly. Phil followed shortly after, pushed over the edge by Dan’s muscles contracting around him.

Dan flinched when Phil pulled out. He felt overstimulated and sore, but completely satisfied. It was a tired, content kind of satisfaction, making him want to finally curl up and go to sleep. “What time is it?” He whispered, following Phil’s movements as the other went into the bathroom through half-closed eyes.

“Nearing half eleven.”

Dan laughed as much as his sleepy state allowed him to and closed his eyes fully, “I usually don’t go to sleep for another two hours or so.”

“We can go to sleep now, if you want.” Phil’s voice came from the other room.

“Hmm, up to you.”

Phil returned, putting his underwear back on and slipping back under the covers with Dan, “If we go to sleep now we’ll have loads of time together tomorrow. I’m not leaving till the evening. If you want that, of course.”

That woke Dan up. He opened his eyes and raised his head, but Phil had turned the light off and the room was dark. “Of course I want that.”

“Okay. Okay. Sleep now, then. We’ll have a lot of time tomorrow.”

Dan turned around, picking his underwear off the floor and wiggling into them under the duvet. When he was done, Phil crawled up beside him and wrapped his arms around him from behind. “This okay?” He asked. His warm breath stroked along Dan’s neck, making his skin raise into goosebumps.

“Yeah.” He whispered back.

He fell asleep with Phil’s arms tightly wrapped around him, soothed by his even breathing against his skin.

When Dan woke up Phil was still fast asleep. He snuck out from under his arm and tiptoed to the bathroom, where it still smelt like fruit and mint or whatever the bath bomb had been. After peeing Dan put a bit of Phil’s toothpaste in his mouth and sloshed it around for a bit; it would have to do.

“Morning.” He was greeted by Phil, lying on his back with one arm thrown over his face to protect his eyes from the sunlight, when he walked back into the bedroom.

“Morning.”

“Want to order some room service and chill in bed while we eat?”

“Sounds good.” He leant down and kissed the top of Phil’s head without really thinking, not realising himself until he met the other’s eyes. Phil pulled him down with a hand on the back of his neck and pecked his lips.

They ordered room service on the hotel website, Dan getting pancakes and Phil some vegan waffles. While they waited for it to arrive Dan got dressed, splashing some water in his face and attempting to bring his hair to some kind of order. He startled when he felt hands touching his belly. Phil had appeared behind him, wrapping his arms around Dan’s waist and now resting his chin on his shoulder. “What do you want to do today?”

“Anything. I wouldn’t mind staying in and just hanging out.”

“What, just talking, getting to know each other?” Dan asked. It was meant as a joke, but when Phil shrugged he nodded, “Alright, sure.”

They ate their breakfast sat cross-legged on the big double bed. Soft Christmas music played on the TV as they started chatting, carefully at first but quickly becoming more free in their questions and stories.

In the middle of one of his stories Phil suddenly called his dad ‘Mr Lester’, bringing the hand that was just about to put a bite of pancake into Dan’s mouth to an abrupt halt. Phil hadn’t noticed, his lively storytelling not stuttering for even a second.

But Dan had a name.

He had a full name to plug into the Google search bar rather than just the name of the ballet company. He wasn’t sure whether to try his absolute hardest to forget it as soon as possible, or whether to save it to his long-term memory and tattoo it onto his brain.

At about half two, when Phil was lying flat on his back with Dan’s head resting on his belly, both staring at the ceiling and half at the other’s hands gesturing in the air as they spoke, Dan’s phone started ringing. They both raised their heads, disturbed.

It was Eleanor. A picture of her and Dan as little kids in a playpark illuminated the screen.

“El?”

“Danny-boy, where are you?”

“Uh…” Dan glanced over to the bed, where Phil had grabbed his own phone and was scrolling through some missed messages.

“I told your mum you’re hanging out with a mate, but I can’t hold her off forever.”

Fuck. Christmas crafts.

“I hadn’t realised the time.”

It was quiet on the other end for a moment, “Bring him.” She said finally.

“No, it’s okay, I’ll come back.”

“Really, Dan, bring him.”

It was a weird crossroad to be at. He had 24 hours with Phil, but he also had a best friend and a mum waiting for their Christmas tradition, and he’d already let them down by being late. Last year in November he’d been at the same fork in the road, he realised, and he’d made the wrong decision then. He’d chosen Rosie over Eleanor and he still hated himself for that. It was clear-cut, really.

“I’m sorry for forgetting the time, I’ll be over as soon as I can. Get the crafts ready, I’m feeling the creative juices flowing.”

Eleanor laughed, the sound sending a relieved warmth to Dan’s heart. “Alright, alright. See you soon. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” When Dan turned back to the bed he wasn’t sure how to break the news. He bit his lip and sat down, awkwardly.

“You have to go?” Phil asked.

“I have a Christmas tradition with my mum and my best friend. It’s bad enough that I forgot about it.”

“It’s okay,” Phil nodded. His smile said that he meant it, “My bus leaves at ten, we can have dinner together if you want?”

“I’d love that, yes.”

“Meet me at the hotel entrance at seven?”

“Definitely.”

“Okay, all good. Have a good day, Dan.”

Dan bit the inside of his cheek. This was the right thing to do, and he was looking forward to crafts, as he did each year, but this still felt bittersweet.

When Phil opened his arms he happily fell into them, “I’m sorry.” He said.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it. The day after is not usually a part of our tradition, after all.”

“I know, but it would’ve been nice.”

“Yeah, it would’ve been.”

Eleanor hugged him when he came in. Her arms were familiar and welcoming, and decidedly not upset with him. “How was your day, huh?”

He grinned, “Most excellent, thanks for asking.”

“I want to hear all about it. As soon as we’re not with your mum anymore, that is.”

“Are you kidding? You know about my thing, I want to hear about your night.” She winked at him and spun on her heel, walking to the living room. “Eleanor, you bitch, you can’t do this to me.”

“I can, and I will.”

“Dan, there you are! Did you have a good time with your friend?”

“Oh yeah, it was lovely.” Dan said, doing his best to hide the grin on his face that was mirrored by his best friend to his left.

Eleanor, always right beside him.

Scrolling was a bit more difficult than usual after the Glue Accident, but Eleanor managed it as she showed Dan Facebook pictures of a boy with blonde curls and a toned dancer’s body. They’d done two hours of crafts with Dan’s mum and then quickly retreated to Dan’s room with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, now stood forgotten on the bedside table.

Cam seemed nice enough, but it was clear that Eleanor didn’t care much for his niceness: he’d given her his number at the end of the night, but when Dan asked her if she’d put it into her phone she said she didn’t even remember where she put the note. The night had but a content grin on her face that was enough for now. A reminder that she still had it and that Nicola was a stupid idiot who was missing out, like Dan had been telling her for the past couple of months.

“So, what about you? Why were you still with him?”

“He’s here all day. Not leaving till nine tonight.”

“Wait, you were going to spend the day with him?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s still here?” With every word she was sitting up a bit straighter.

“Yeah.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Bros before hoes. Mums before- I don’t know- bums? You know what I mean.”

“Okay, crafts over. Go back to him, God. Your mum and I will still be here tonight and tomorrow and all the time after that.”

Dan was quiet for a moment. “El,” He said then, softly, “I’m sorry about last November.”

He didn’t need to explain what he meant. She gave him a sad smile and a playful push against the shoulder that meant more than it led on, “I know.”

“I really am. I shouldn’t have prioritised Rosie over you, and that was so fucking dumb of me.”

“Yeah, you were an idiot. Still are, really.” Eleanor agreed.

Dan grinned, “Yeah, alright, alright, calm down.”

“You deserve it though.” She said, laughing along. Her hand, still on his shoulder, shook him gently, “Go. It’s okay, we’ll hang out tonight and watch Home Alone. After he’s left.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. You came to crafts, thank you.”

“I wouldn’t have wanted to miss it.” He scrambled to his feet and kissed the top of her head. “Love you.”

“Love you, too, idiot.” She shook her head at him as he left the room.

It was six o’clock when he made it into the hotel lobby and the realisation that he had no way of getting upstairs or contacting Phil to let him in. He stood, probably suspiciously, next to the check-in desk for just a little too long, before his stupid foggy brain finally thought of something to do.

“El?”

“Why are you calling me? Go have sex or something.” She whispered the last part, probably still at his house, near his mum.

“I don’t have his phone number. Can you see if you can find Cam’s and ask him for Phil’s number for me?”

“Really? You want me to ask a guy I slept with last night for one of his friends’ phone numbers? Do you want me to break the guy’s heart?”

“Tell him it’s a gay emergency.”

“A gay emergency, huh?”

Dan’s face flushed red, “At this point, I can’t really deny anything anymore, you know?”

“You’re gay?”

“Oh my god, this is not what I called you for, El.”

“I know.”

“I’m not gay. I’m just- not straight. Bi, maybe.”

“I’ll find Cam’s number. Tell him it’s a bi emergency.”

“You’re an angel.”

“Yeah, and you’re so lucky to have me.”

After they hung up the phone Dan spent another couple of awkward minutes hanging around the check-in desk, giving the lady behind it a nod that he hoped was reassuring and friendly.

Just before his standing around started going from ‘weird’ to ‘scary’, Eleanor texted him. Just a string of numbers. Presumably Phil’s phone number. Phil Lester’s phone number.

What was he even supposed to say? What did you put in a first text to someone you’d known for two years but had only really seen three times?

Hey, it’s Dan. I’m back at the hotel if you want to hang out now? Am in the lobby.

His finger hovered over the ‘send’ button, and after a glance at the clock – twenty past six – he pressed it.

The lady behind the desk was really starting to give him looks now, so he moved to near the lifts, which was maybe even more suspicious. Thankfully, a minute or two later, one of the lifts opened and Phil appeared, now dressed in some casual jeans and a T shirt. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“How were your crafts?”

“Excellent, I’m a master.”

“I’m sure you are. Want to go straight to the restaurant?”

“Sure. Where are we going?”

“Well, it just so happens that I know of an exquisite Pizza Hut around the corner.”

“Hm, really? How did you become acquainted with it?”

“Ah well, I just Google Maps-ed it a minute and a half ago.”

It was a short walk. Five minutes, maybe. Dan felt some weird sense of pride walking next to Phil, boasting with the cute guy he’d managed to get to… take him on a date? He wasn’t sure what this was, until fingertips touched his hand palm and fingers intertwined with his. He glanced to his side and the two boys made eye contact, grinning at each other, each content with what had just occurred between them.

Dan’s secondary school had had a pizza hut right around the corner, meaning he was very, very closely acquainted with how things worked in there. Phil, who’d been on a ballet diet most of his life, had only stepped foot inside a Pizza Hut maybe three times, had no idea what was going on from the moment he walked in.

“The salad bar is free?” He asked quietly, “Dan,” he did a little jog to catch up with the other, “Dan, it’s free?”

“Yeah. The bacon bits are vegan, too.”

“The bacon bits?”

Dan was enjoying being the one with more experience on something for once, albeit with the workings of a cheap pizza place.

He didn’t need to look at the menu, knowing his order by heart. Amusedly, he watched Phil study his options with his finger tracing the letters as he read them. “Is this one any good?”

“What, the pan? Sure. I’m a classic fan though.”

“I think I’ll be adventurous and get a pan.”

After they’d ordered Dan got some more entertainment from watching Phil squint at the salad bar options, carefully picking up some tomatoes and then loading up on bacon bits. “You’re sure?” He asked, by which time it was already far too late to dump the whole lot back into the bowl.

“Yeah, they’re vegan. My friend who’s vegan has them all the time.”

“Okay.”

Phil made the classic mistake of overloading on the salad bar, so he couldn’t finish his pizza. Dan gladly made use of this by eating the last 3 slices.

The boundaries had been moved, and for some reason instead of making it more awkward, as it had been before when they weren’t sure where the lines were drawn, they spoke more easily and fluently. Phil even opened up about his childhood, and how he’d started dancing.

Dan had to try his best to not stare at him fondly, leaning his head on one hand, while he listened.

It was a quarter to eight. They had exactly an hour and fifteen minutes to get Phil’s stuff packed up and get him on the bus, yet the moment they left Pizza Hut, they headed in the exact opposite direction of the hotel.

Their fingers were intertwined, hands swinging between them as they walked.

They got ice cream at a place Dan loved, sitting outside on a freezing December night despite the odd looks they were getting. By the end of it Dan couldn’t feel his tongue, but it was worth it to see the happy smile on Phil’s face, and the way his cheeks had gone red and rosy from the cold air.

Eventually they had to reluctantly make their way back to the hotel. Hand in hand once again.

Dan watched him throw his things into the suitcase on the floor and zip it up with the effortless movements of someone who’d done this many times before.

“I’ll see you next year?” Dan asked. He felt hope and hurt burning in his heart at once.

“I’ll be here. I hope you will be, too.”

“I’ll see if I can find the time to pop by.” Dan said. A weak attempt at a joke while he felt like a small part of him had just been zipped up into a suitcase headed north.

Downstairs by the bus, the other dancers greeted Dan like a friend with pats on the back and smiling nods. “See you next year, Dan.” One of them told him.

A fair assertion, or so Dan hoped.

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #fanfiction #phan au #ballet au #phan smut

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wxldchxld · 6 years ago

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Headcanon: Bregtha’s School of Witchcraft and Bullshitery

So I think I’ve touched on Bregtha education by now, but there are a couple of little things/specifics that kinda vary from verse to verse. Also this is a rewrite and will erase some of my lore that I will attempt to find an edit. But like, if this seems contradictory, I know and I’m working on fixing it.

So like, your most basic magical instruction is taught to you by your parents and your guardians (parents, grandparents, or whoever is raising you) and by your kyn, and if you aren’t familiar with that term look here.

When children are really young they don’t really have any magical abilities beyond things they can do through random chance and willpower. This restrains them to incredibly weak displays of magic, if they end up presenting any at all. So babies generally don’t accomplish anything more than shoving small things over and making a mess out of the top of the top of the dresser because the magic will respond to them, but when it’s just responding to emotions, it’s pretty weak. Magic without willpower and practice scatters very quickly.

The older they get, the more frequent and more intense their magic will get. Between the ages of two and four, witches will start to do a lot more magic as they become more conscious of what they want. Still, you rarely have a child powerful enough to do levitation or go around setting the house ablaze.

The earliest age any witch has ever made their first shift is at around three years old. Only a small handful of witches do this, and it’s usually seen as a very, very bad sign because nearly all that ever have wind up going feral. Beck shifted shortly after her third birthday, and her mother took it really hard. She’d already been struggling with Beck, and that was sort of the nail in the coffin. Three year olds start to get basic lessons in control from their parents and at coven meetings.

Normally witches make their first shift between five and eight years old, and after they do they enter what is called service.

Service is witch school and the reason they don’t call it actual school is because it is only teaching them spellcraft and Bregtha culture. In modern verses, most witches either use the same general education tools to home school their children, or they just send them to school. In my Game of Thrones or The 100 verses, witches have actual school that teaches shit like math and science and language.

Service is taught by the priesthood and takes place in the temple. Just how often a kid gets to go to formal service depends on their location. They are asked to attend twice a month, but regular classes are held three days a week. These classes generally take anywhere from one to four hours combined. Children attend service until they’re finished with all of the basic courses, and usually finish by the time they’re fifteen years old.

Service, even for young kids, operates more like a high school than a traditional elementary school. There are a few basic courses that people basically repeat every year until they finish service, there are a couple of intermediate courses one is required to attend, and other than that you basically take whatever classes you are interested in. If you only get the most basic education, you can finish service in about three years with regular attendance.

A course generally last four to six weeks. Basically the priesthood posts an announcement every six weeks to say what courses they’ll be giving and people show up.

Children born into the priesthood (like Beck) have to attend courses geared toward their branch of the religion. Most are in service either as a teacher or a student on and off for their entire lives. Which... Beck should be doing... but she doesn’t.

If you aren’t born into the priesthood, you don’t technically have to attend service, but it’s a big social no no if you don’t. No one is going to take you seriously as a witch, and most covens, family groups, and even like cities won’t want anything to do with you until you’re done. Especially since service isn’t necessarily hard, just kinda time consuming. Witches who don’t finish service are considered lazy and dangerous.

Service is free. Even advanced courses are free. There are private teachers that are allowed to sell their knowledge, and no one will look down on you for going to them for advanced things, but there’s a good chance there’s a course of service that will provide that to you for free. You might have to relocate to get it, but temples will often also house people if they have the room.

Beck entered service as a student after her first shift when she was about three, because of this she was in a lot of the same basic classes as Fen, who had just made his first shift at six. Kids made fun of Fen because of this, but he was actually kind of happy to have Beck there with him, because it meant he could protect her. However do to problems caused by her learning disability as well as the additional courses she had to take as mal kenna, they had to separate within the next year.

How Beck did in service vastly depended on the class. Some she excelled at, others she really sucked at. Her teachers in service liked her a lot more than her teachers in actual school, but she still often got in trouble and was in general a hard child to deal with due to excessive amounts of energy, a weird age gap bc of how early she started, and her learning disability. The latter became significantly less problematic after Beck got her first familiar, Heill, who eventually learned to read and could then read things to Beck.

#hc #ok i'm fuckin done #i'm tired AF #and i need to finish this drabble #but i'm too tired rn #so i'm taking a break

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future-fangirl · 7 years ago

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Get What You Want

The idea from this story came from a couple of high school experiences and the usual high school AU fanfiction out there. And a conversation with @savvylark about demisexuality. Somehow it turned into this. I will warn you that Katniss is a bit OOC in this story. She is living in a present-day setting so she isn't so terrified of relationships and romance. And Everlark shippers, don't worry, this is an Everlark story even if it seems like it isn't. I had the unrequited love thing going on in high school though in my case the guy I liked was more like Peeta than Gale. So parts of this are inspired by that. I remember the whole desperate desire to look "hot" so that guy will notice you. Newsflash, it rarely does work. Edited to Add: I am having major formatting issues with all my writing. I am going to try to fix it but it's driving me crazy.

"But how do I make him notice me?" I sat down beside Johanna on her bed and played with the hem of my t-shirt. Johanna was the girl to go to when you wanted to know how to play sexy. She was two years older than me and knew how to drive guys crazy. We had been friends for years but so far I had avoided her attempts to make me over into something hotter. I wasn't very good at sexy. In fact, I really didn't like it at all. But it was the only way to get him to notice me. Gale was mine and I was his and anything else was unthinkable. Well, ok, I had a crush on him and he still thought I was the cute cousin. We weren't actually cousins but we looked alike enough people thought we were. He was two years older than me and we had been friends for years. Recently though he had started hanging out with the older kids. And now that he was in college I saw all the posts on Facebook with the hot blonde girls. And even though I had made a couple of awkward advances he hadn't taken the bait. I was getting a little desperate. Was there something wrong with me? I mean, I knew I wasn't as pretty as Glimmer Williams but I wasn't ugly. I wore glasses, had worn braces, read books, sprouted obscure fandom knowledge and wore a wardrobe of a librarian. Still, my hair was nice and I thought my features weren't that bad. I was flat chested though. "Did you try what I told you? The lip bite thing and the smiling and the touching your hair." Johanna answered. "Yeah, and it didn't work. He just kinda ignored me. He spent all the night with Cashmere." I sighed remembering how they had spent the whole night making out while I sat there and tried to pretend it didn't bother me. "I even asked if he wanted to dance. But he didn't." Johanna winced. Then she sat there for a couple of minutes and said, "Maybe you should make him jealous?" I hadn't had a boyfriend. I was scowling and irritating and most people found me scary. I sat alone with my other friend Madge and read books. I hadn't even been kissed. I was almost eighteen and I hadn't been kissed. I wasn't sure about kissing, it seemed a little weird, but people were supposed to enjoy it. "I could try. Maybe once he figures out I'm not a kid he'll be interested." "Listen, Katniss. Don't lose yourself trying to get some guy to notice you. I've been there, done that. And it's not worth it." I nodded but wasn't particularly paying attention to Johanna's advice. I had a mission. Find some guy who would make me look desirable enough to get Gale to notice me. I thought down the list of boys in my class. Cato? No, he was the kind of guy who carried knives in his pocket to look tough. Marvel? No, he was just plain creepy. Thresh? No, he was Gale's friend and he wasn't the kind to agree to my plan. Peeta? He'd be perfect but he'd never agree. Peeta Mellark was the golden boy of our class. He was class president, debate champ, wrestler and extremely popular. With his golden-haired good looks and bright blue eyes, he looked almost as good looking as Finnick Odair who was a senior and considered to be the hottest boy at Panem High School. Finnick was very much taken though. He only had eyes for Annie Cresta who spent most of her time reading books and swimming. I liked Annie. Her story gave me hope. If Annie Cresta could snag the hottest guy in the senior class I could surely succeed in my mission. But Peeta was also nice. He was the kind of guy who helped old ladies across the street and volunteered to tutor students. But what could I offer him? I didn't have a lot of money. I doubted offering to wash his car would do it. And what else could I offer him? Then I remembered something. His last girlfriend was Cashmere. And Cashmere had spent the whole night making out with Gale. If I pretended to get with Peeta it might make Cashmere jealous too. Possible Peeta could get her back. And even if he didn't he would get revenge on her. It wasn't a very nice thing to do but I wasn't known for being nice. The next day at school I cornered Peeta in the art room. He was painting a picture of a dandelion. Peeta smiled as I came up to him. "Hey, Katniss." "Hi, uhh… that's really pretty." I motioned to the painting. "Oh, thanks. I love dandelions." "I was wondering if…" I paused and then tried to gather up my courage. Finally, I blurted out my plan. I stumbled through a lengthy explanation and stared at my feet. I was messing this up so badly. "So you want to fake date to get his attention?" Peeta looked confused. "Well yeah, but I thought maybe with Cashmere…" I really regretted doing this. I was crazy to have gone to him. I should have found some guy like Bristel. Not the golden boy of Panem High. "Cashmere and I broke up without any hard feelings. But I'll do it." Peeta said. "Why?" I didn't understand why he was doing this. "Because I don't have a girlfriend so I can do it. And because I certainly don't mind spending time with a pretty girl like you." He grinned at me and I felt myself blush. Nobody had ever called me pretty beside my mother and sister and Madge. "But I…" I paused trying to collect my thoughts. I didn't want any feelings involved. Not that I was fooling myself into thinking that he would ever like me. "I know. It's not real." He nodded and added, "He's a lucky guy. To have a girl like you interested in him." "Oh no," I mumbled. "I'm nothing special." "You have no idea, do you? The effect you have." Peeta said softly. I guessed that was one of his motivational speeches. He wanted to make me feel better. "So uhh… how do we do this? I've never actually had a boyfriend." I confessed. "How about this? I pick you up Saturday night, assure your mother I am not a serial killer and we go see a movie." "Great," I replied. My mother would be relieved. She kept asking why I didn't have a boyfriend and why I spent so much time doing things like hunting and not hanging out at malls doing my makeup. She'd like Peeta. He was the kind of boy parents liked. He'd probably go to a great school. "It's a date, Everdeen." He winked exaggeratedly making me laugh. Then the bell rang and I ran off to my English class. I knew on Saturday Gale and his friends always went to the movies. He would be sure to see me with Peeta. On Saturday Prim helped me find the perfect blouse to go with my nicest pair of jeans. She helped me put a little makeup on and then sat and gave me advice. I was a little scared when my fourteen-year-old sister started talking about kiss proof makeup. But Prim said she read it in a magazine. She was way too young to be kissing boys. Peeta rang the bell and my mom opened the door. She looked him over critically then called, "Katniss, he's here." I saw Peeta turn the charm on my mother full force. He asked her how her day was, offered to help take the casserole out of the oven and talked all about the recent debate tournament he was in. By the end of their conversation, my mother was smiling and had lost any suspicion. Prim attacked a plate of cookies Peeta had brought by. I wondered why Peeta had spent so much time and effort on me. I was just a fake girlfriend. "So what movie do you want to see?" Peeta asked. I considered for a moment. Gale had talked about seeing Black Panther. And I wanted to see it as well. "What about Black Panther?" I suggested. Peeta grinned. "You have excellent taste. I was worried you'd want to see some sappy romance." "I don't like that kind of thing," I replied. "Ahh…well some sappy romances are ok. I draw the line at creepy or rapey." Peeta replied. He hadn't struck me as the romantic kind but now that you thought of it he was the kind who'd cover a girl in chocolate, flowers and make her breakfast. "It's just unrealistic. The whole soulmates thing. My parents were like that. And then my dad died. And my mom just lost hope. I don't want that kind of thing. I want something less…intense." I flushed wondering why I was telling him this. I didn't talk about my dad to anyone. "My family is the opposite. My parents didn't really love each other. They got married because I guess mom got pregnant. And then they got divorced. I think love exists. It's just most people are selfish." The movie was great. I wasn't much for Marvel movies but this one was great. It was nice seeing people who weren't white onscreen. I was one of the few people in Panem that weren't lily white. And I had faced a lot of discrimination growing up. My dad was from Brazil even though he spent most of his childhood in England since his dad was British. That explained why my last name sounded so British. Prim looked so white she could have appeared on a propaganda photo for white nationalism. But she wasn't. I remembered that time she had defended me in a store when a woman was accusing me of shoplifting just because I looked "suspicious". Prim knew more about my dad's roots than I did since she was interested in that sort of thing. But this was Panem and most people thought Trump was great and racial diversity was unnecessary. Perils of living in a small town in the south. I saw Gale in the corner with his friends. I was surprised to see Madge sitting next to him. Madge was the mayor's daughter but she was still my friend. I felt a flicker of jealousy as I watched her sitting there. Maybe he liked Madge? She was his type. Blonde, curvy and glamorous. But Madge knew I liked him. Didn't she? Peeta bought me popcorn and sat down beside me. In order to seem more authentic, I leaned my head against his shoulder. I didn't mind it actually. He smelled nice. Like cinnamon and something faintly sweet and spicy. And he was strong. I had never been much for gym rats but Peeta didn't seem like a gym rat even though he must spend a lot of time working out to get this physique. When the movie finished he grabbed my hand and ostentatiously went over to the others to say hi. I watched Gale's reaction. He just grinned and gave me a pat on the shoulder. "So you finally got yourself a boyfriend? Don't scare him off with the arrows." I rolled my eyes but inwardly felt disappointed. Gale didn't seem to notice my outfit or how I had a boy interested in me. In fact, he seemed just kind of amused and almost happy for me. Madge seemed so excited. She whispered in my ear how great it was that I was dating Peeta. "He's such a great guy. And he's cute too." Somehow my disappointment didn't seem as great as I expected. I had just had a nice time. Even though I had failed to make Gale jealous I had watched a great movie. And Peeta was just as nice as Madge said. He was easy to talk to. I found out over the next few weeks that being his "fake girlfriend" had definite perks. He gave me baked goods, posted inspirational posts on my Facebook page, and sat with me and Madge. We sometimes spent hours texting back and forth about books, movies, and TV shows. I talked about how I would probably be spending my first years of college at the community college since like many kids in Panem I couldn't afford the state university. He talked about how he wanted to be an artist but his mom wanted him to get a degree in business. We went to see more movies and he took me to Winter Formal. When I posted a picture on my Instagram Gale posted an emoji with a smiling face and wrote, "You two are way too cute." I shut off my phone and tried to sleep. It was starting to dawn on me that my plan wasn't really working the way I had intended. Gale and I were no closer than before. I certainly hadn't convinced him to date me. And something else hurt too. I'd grown used to having Peeta Mellark in my life. I wondered what it would be like when we were no longer texting about Star Wars, web series and science fiction novels. I had started to notice how handsome he was. I mean I had noticed before, I'm not blind, but I started noticing and finding it affect me. His eyes were so blue and his eyelashes were golden but very long so they looked like they'd tangle up but they never did. I found him easy going but sometimes he had a toughness that reminded me he didn't win debates or wresting championships by being nice. There was one thing I had to try before I fully accepted the fact that my feelings for Gale were unrequited. I needed to show him I wasn't completely innocent. Maybe if I kissed someone else that would show that I wasn't a child anymore. The problem was that I had never been kissed. And I wasn't sure if Peeta would even want to kiss me. Pretending to date and hanging out wasn't unpleasant. In fact, it was fun. But he might draw the line at kissing. I mean, I wasn't anything special and kissing me wouldn't probably be that great. I didn't know what I was doing. That night as we walked by the little lake my father used to take me to fish I blurted out, "Would it like…um.. freak you out to kiss me? Cause I've never been kissed and well…I" "Wanted to know what it's like?" Peeta finished. I glanced down at my feet. Yeah, honestly I did. Right now wasn't about making anyone jealous. There was no one around to see. I just wanted to know what this kissing thing was all about. People seemed to like doing it in movies. "Yeah, I'd like to. And well, I was thinking it would be good…practice." I saw a shadow pass across his face but he smiled at me. "Ok. Everdeen. You start." I lunged forward and pressed my mouth to his. But I completely miscalculated and ended up knocking noses and teeth. I felt red creep across my face in embarrassment. I was hopeless. "Ok, well, here. Close your eyes." I closed my eyes feeling the weight of his gaze on my face. "Tilt your face towards me." I tilted my head a few inches. "And here. This is a soft kiss. The kind you can do in public." His lips pressed against mine for just a couple of seconds. His lips were warm and soft. A little warmth seeped into my body. "And?" I asked. That didn't seem like the most spectacular kiss. It was nice but I had expected something a little more…intense. More like the movies. I might be an inexperienced person but that didn't mean I didn't watch R rated movies. "This is a real kiss." I felt his mouth descend on mine again. This time he nipped at my bottom lip until I parted my lips a little. Then he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth. His hands found their way into my hair and I pressed myself closer to him. I found myself eager to explore. The warmth was growing inside and seemed to want to find a way to leak out of me somehow. I started running my fingers through his hair. All too soon he pulled away. "Was that what you were looking for?" he asked. I nodded. Now that I had discovered I liked kissing him I wanted another one. But probably it had been just a kind gesture on his part once he figured out I was so hopeless at it. "Yeah, I" I hesitated and finally said, "I really liked it." "And this is how you make out." I sighed in relief when he kissed me again. This time I kept my mouth half open and focused on trying to mirror his actions. Then I felt his tongue press against mine. For a second I was a little grossed out. Then I felt the warmth inside me start burning down my fingers and legs. A moan slid out of my mouth making me blush. This was a little too intense. But I didn't want to pull away. It felt so good. When he kissed the side of my neck I sighed. It didn't matter anymore if all of this was fake. "Wow," I whispered when he finally pulled away and grinned at me. He gave me another kiss right before I left the car to go into my house. It was much closer to the first type but it still left a smile on my face. My mother saw me and said, "You like that boy?" I hesitated to wonder when that had happened. But I still felt obligated to try to complete my plan. And besides, there was no way a popular, handsome boy like Peeta Mellark would ever like an average girl like me. "Yeah, he's nice." She laughed and said, "More than nice if that mark on your neck is any indication." I had expected her to be mad but I always forgot my mother was pretty modern and cool about things. She believed me when I told her we hadn't done anything more than kiss. I told her I wasn't ready for anything else. "That may be true. But I'm not taking any chances. You're going to start taking birth control. It's good to help regulate your periods anyway. I just want you to be safe." My mom had already talked about sex and had encouraged me and Prim to come to her with any questions. So far I hadn't had any need to. I was always surprised at how my mom dealt with this. I didn't think I needed birth control. I was definitely not ready to have sex. But I also knew people who had thought the same thing and had gotten into trouble. So I let her discuss birth control options and all those other embarrassing details. The next week I went to Madge's birthday party. Peeta was invited but had to cancel after he got the flu. I went by myself. For some reason, I felt much more confident. I decided that now was the time to confront Gale and ask him if his feelings for me had changed. I sat there and drank soda and played some weird game with Annie. Annie and Finnick were being ridiculously adorable. It almost made me envious. Even though I didn't believe in soulmates I didn't doubt their love. I stepped outside and started as I saw two people on the other side of Madge's ridiculously huge pool. Madge and Gale. Kissing heatedly. I felt my stomach drop as I saw Gale draw back and look her in the eyes. It was different than with Cashmere. I knew neither Cashmere or Gale meant anything serious by it. They were just looking to have a good time. But Madge was well…my best friend. And …She was kissing the boy I liked. And of course, it was Madge. Madge who looked perfect with her amazing pale skin, blue eyes, and full figure. Madge with her piano playing and perfectly applied lipstick and intelligence. I felt resentment surge up in me. Madge had known about my feelings. I thought I made them clear enough. I had told her about a year ago I liked Gale. But I hadn't said anything more. And then I started dating Peeta. Of course, I started dating Peeta. "Katniss…" I saw her turn and look at me. She looked shocked at my expression. Then she pulled away and raced towards me. "Katniss, I thought…" "You thought what…" I spit out. All I could think of is how much time I had spent crying over someone who would never like me. Who would like my best friend instead? I remembered what Johanna had said. Belatedly I realized she was right. "I thought that you and Peeta. Once you started dating. I mean you weren't going to date someone while liking someone else." Madge looked near tears. "It wasn't real. We just pretended to date. I was trying to make him jealous. I told you I liked him. And then you went behind my back to date him." I felt my stomach flip. I glanced up to see Gale was standing near Madge. He looked shocked and almost angry. At me. Shame filtered through me. I was so stupid. Stupid to ever think anyone would really want…me. Ordinary Katniss Everdeen with her weird habits and inability to see things the way they really were. "I didn't know, Katniss. How was I supposed to know you were fake dating Peeta. Which was a low blow. Peeta has been crazy about you forever. And you can't see what's right in front of your face." Madge turned and ran into the house. I paused trying to digest what she had said. Peeta crazy about me? That was impossible. Then I remembered his kind words when we first started this experiment, all the thoughtful gestures and those melting kisses by the lake. Had I misinterpreted everything? Did he really like me? And what's more, did I like him back? "I didn't know, Katniss." I looked up to see Gale looking at me. "I thought you were just joking around. But I guess I've always seen you as the crazy kid sister." "I know. I was stupid. I knew it I just hoped…" I trailed off feeling miserably embarrassed and wanting to throw myself in that pool. "And Madge is right. Don't throw away something right in front of your face. I know you well enough that you aren't a very good actress. But you and Peeta looked pretty real." "I'm sorry. I messed everything up so badly." I sank down on a chair by the pool. Gale handed me a can of Coke and I took a few sips. "We all do from time to time. And I know what you mean. Last year I was just determined to have the complete college experience. A few hangovers and bad hookups later I realized that wasn't what I wanted from life. And Madge is one of those people." "I'm glad," I whispered. "And remember, Catnip," I turned around. "If you break up with Mellark you won't get all those cheese buns you like so much." In spite of myself, I laughed. I found Madge and apologized for accusing her of something she hadn't done. I had been the one who was less than forthcoming. I went home and had a good cry over it. I felt a little bit like a fool. Part of me was starting to realize I hadn't been in love at all. I had just been fixated on the only boy who ever paid me any kind of attention. And liking Gale was safe especially since he hadn't returned my feelings. There wasn't anything vulnerable about that. I didn't feel that same mind-numbing warmth that I felt that night at the lake. Admittedly I had only kissed Peeta but I still felt it even when I wasn't kissing him. The next day Madge changed her relationship status to "In a relationship" and posted a picture of her and Gale together. I posted a cheerful comment congratulating them. I then sent Peeta a text saying that when he was better I wanted to talk to him. Later that day he replied that he was really sick and probably wouldn't be able to see me for awhile. I forced myself not to worry. Peeta was healthy and strong and even though the flu had been bad this year he was able to fight it off. When I told my mom he was sick she marched off to the deli to get chicken soup and ran it by his family's bakery. I sat there and fought back insecurity. Then I went up to the door and saw Mr. Mellark open it. "Katniss, how are you?" he asked. "Please, isn't there something I can do?" I was definitely not a nurse. "You shouldn't be here. You'll catch this thing. But if you want to go up there for a few minutes I'm sure he'll appreciate seeing you." Mr. Mellark said. "Hey Peeta," I said as I walked into his room. He looked pretty awful honestly. His face was red and he looked so pale other places and he just looked sick. "Katniss," he croaked. "Why are you here?" "Had to check on you," I replied. "The act is over. Why do you care?" he replied. I realized he must have seen Madge's post. Did he think I cared that little about him? Yeah, he probably did. I had never indicated that he was anything but a means to an end. No wonder he was upset. I hadn't been a very good friend. "Of course I care. You're my friend. And we have to talk when you're better. My mom got some chicken soup." I opened the window to let in a little fresh air. "Ok," he said wearily. "Remember we're madly in love. Feel free to kiss me anytime." I laughed. He was quoting that stupid movie we watched a few weeks before. That dystopian young adult movie where the hero said those exact words. "Hmm not right now. I don't want to catch your germs." I went home feeling a little better. Once Peeta and I talked I felt sure I could resolve the differences between us. But it was almost two weeks until I saw him again. I caught his flu and spent the next week coughing and shivering under the covers and regretting coming to see him. I didn't want to talk to him at school. There were way too many people around. So I asked him to meet me after school at the lake. I sat there nervously trying to think up something to say. Hey Peeta, I want you to be my boyfriend for real. Sorry for fake dating you almost three months to get another guy. No, that sounded crazy. I looked like a ditzy girl who didn't know her own mind. "Hey Katniss," Peeta stood before me with a smile but it didn't seem like a genuine one. I noticed his eyes still looked sad. "Hey," I replied. My brain was stuck in a panic loop. I wasn't sure what to say. "I just want to know I'm not blaming you. I mean you were nothing but honest about this whole thing. I was the stupid one who thought things might be changing. I know Gale's like most girls dream and I can't compete. I'm just sorry things didn't work out for you." Peeta sat down beside me on the picnic bench. I blinked, not sure how to respond. Peeta honest thought he wasn't able to compete with Gale. He was popular, handsome and just so charming. "That's not true. You're like the most popular person at school. Everyone likes you." "Yeah, well, believe it or not being popular doesn't make you hot." Peeta shook his head sadly. "Now stop that right now. Stop with the nice guy so girls don't like me bull shit." I glared at him for a second. "I think you're hot. And sweet and basically the best boyfriend a girl could have. Fake or otherwise. It's kinda terrifying. You brought not just flowers for me but also ones for my mom and sister. Prim is still raving about it and my mom basically signed my future away." "Katniss, I really appreciate the pep talk but…" "But what?" "I like you for real. It's not a game for me. It never was. And I know you have feelings for someone else. I get that. I can't pretend anymore, though." Peeta flushed and looked away. "And I was so blind. I didn't see what was right in front of me. I was so focused on what I thought I wanted I didn't notice what I did want." "And what did you want?" "You," He tried arguing with me but I wrapped myself around him and continued, "I want what we had before. But this time for real." His eyes brightened and I smiled. I then dove in and pressed my mouth against his. I had missed kissing him. It felt so good to have his arms around me anchoring me in place and feel the warmth flowing through my veins again. "You like me, real or not real?" he asked as we pulled away for breath. I leaned in again and murmured in his ear, "Real."

#thg #the hunger games #everlark #everlark fanfiction #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark

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clove-teasdale · 7 years ago

Text

survival of the fittest

*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

A/N: not a challenge but has background, some detective clove and rp~ Sorry for any mistakes in writing or typos, I was done with revisions and probs missed some stuff lol. there are mulan and batman (and slight marvel) references. italics section in the end is past. word count around 3k. enjoy! ft. rp with @maya-edwards & little wilson

[edit--some slight changes were made/added in the last section]

*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

One earbud in, I tapped the pen against my notebook. 6 Twos in the last Selection. Gradually less than our current 10.

I’d found the list of old Selected in a magazine published over two decades ago. I doubted ripping off the page was allowed considering it was from the library, but it wasn’t an actual book so I sneaked it out anyway. The possibility of someone noticing was extremely low after all.

I kept the page folded and clipped in the back cover of my notebook in case I needed it later, but had already made my own version of the list on a fresh page. I wanted to work through it even with other people around, so I knew I had to make it visually confusing. For once my love for complicated plans came in handy.

The list consisted of name abbreviations. Carmen Zoraya becoming C.Z and so on. Next, to each name, I added caste number and week of elimination.

C.Z-3-W8. R.D.J.-2-W12 B.M-5-W3

Getting the information had taken me hours of reading in the library, but I’d managed. I went through different magazines, hidden between some pillars and a bookshelf to avoid being spotted by other girls that frequented the area. Organizing the old issues by their dates had probably been the biggest challenge–sitting on the carpeted floor, my back to the bookshelf and dozens of magazines on my lap.

I focused mostly on reading eliminations to get the crucial information out, but I hoped to go back later in the week to read about the dramas that had ensued during those months. Maybe that would give some extra insight otherwise dismissed when looking only at the bigger picture.

I wasn’t sure why I was still working on this. A gut feeling? Many psychologists debated there was always information and data our right brain was taking in, no matter if our left brain was busy on something else. The body registers the information even when your mind stays unaware. If that were true, what had I noticed besides the already obvious? I couldn’t tell, but it didn’t matter. I had enough spare time to work on it.

Running through the names again, I added strikes under Threes. I was in the eighth strike when I caught a girl approaching from the corner of my eye. She was the embodiment of nervousness, eyes searching the room as she clutched a book to her chest. There was an empty spot next to me, but she hadn’t noticed it yet when Victoria walked behind her. The TV sensation hadn’t even batted an eye in her direction, but the girl with the short afro was startled nonetheless.

The book was soon in the air as she juggled it around in an attempt to catch it. She wasn’t as swift as a coursing river though and it fell to the ground pretty quickly.

She sighed, shoulders slumping in disappointment. I stared in silence, making sure others hadn’t paid much attention to the event before stating, “I think you dropped something.”

She was startled once more, but this time by my voice, a groan leaving her lips as she realized the spectacle had had an audience. “You saw all that, didn’t you…”

“Does it make it any better if I say no?”

She reached for the book and once standing, nodded a little, a worried frown as she said, “A-actually yes…”

I raised an eyebrow at her fear, unsure of the reason behind it, but settled with an “Okay,” and went back to my notes. I knew the best thing was not to make any further comments.

“Can I, uh- Can I sit here?” She asked after a moment.

I stopped in the middle of adding another strike to the number of Threes and considered the question. Staring at my notes without context made no sense as expected, so I figured it wasn’t a problem. “The seat is open to the public, you may sit.”

Whether she understood my slightly joking tone or not was hard to tell, but she cleared her throat and sat down either way. “Thanks…”

I’d seen her around before. Maya was her name if I remembered correctly. Sometimes she seemed kind of lost. Not like she didn’t know what was happening, but more like she wasn’t sure why she was there or what her plan was. A combination of shy and awkward was very likely.

Easy targets tend to know what they are. Wilson’s face crossed my mind at the thought. I took the single earbud I was wearing off, then went back to counting Threes. “No need to thank me. You didn’t need my permission to sit there.”

“Uh, well…Maybe you didn’t want company or- maybe it was taken?”

“Whether I want company or not should not scare you away from taking a seat that is there to be used by you.”

She frowned, considering my words. “I suppose not?” A moment of silence. “Sorry?”

I paused my count. So one of those people. Looking up, I raised an eyebrow at her. “Why sorry?”

Her own logic caught up with mine as she stuttered, “Uh-well- I don’t know…”

Trying to run away from embarrassment, she quickly opened her book and pretended to read. Too bad she wasn’t good at pretending.

I smirked down at my notes and said, “I see you have the ability of reading upside down.”

Her blush was unmistakable as she closed her eyes, realizing she was holding the book incorrectly. She tried to fix it, turning it over quickly. “No-Yes, yes, very entertaining, I can tell you.” She cleared her throat at the end and my smirk didn’t leave.

“Mhmm, I bet so. What did you think about the love interest killing his sister?”

“It really uh, turned the story ‘upside down’…”

I snorted at the pun. “Of course… you do realize that doesn’t happen though?” Taking the book from her and reading the page at the bottom I pointed out, “Page 56. The love interest isn’t introduced yet.” Also, there was no sister. Closing the book, I handed it back with a smug smile. Her smile in return was awkward.

“Well, it was worth a try? Sor– I mean, eh the book is nice then? Haven’t read it yet.”

“I figured as much, but yes, it’s a decent one. What made you pick it up?”

“I dropped it? So… Then I picked it up again?” She frowned and a head tilt followed. I frowned too, not getting what she was talking about at first, but then laughing at the mistake.

Once she realized what I meant she was quick to explain she hoped to get some knowledge on palace rules and etiquette considering the setting of the book. In theory, it sounded like something good, but it wasn’t going to be enough and she actually had access to books about the subject in the library. I suggested those for later. She pointed out they were boring in a small voice and I couldn’t disagree. I did tell her a novel wouldn’t help much, however.

“I know, I know…” She pouted, but soon curiosity took over her features. “What are you doing though?”

I stared at my barely understandable handwriting. I had the potential to make it neat if I bothered to try, but half the time I didn’t and especially not now. “A… personal project I guess.” I shrugged it off as I closed the notebook. “Nothing too important.”

“O-of course! I didn’t mean to uh–…” She vaguely gestured with her hands in the air when I waited for her to continue. “You know, to be rude.”

“It’s alright, not that big a deal, just something I don’t think I’d be able to explain.“ A partial lie. I didn’t want to start havoc just because I’d run a couple of numbers that could technically still be coincidental. Thankfully, I usually pulled off keeping things to myself pretty well. “You’re Maya, right?”

“Yes! And you’re Clove.” She smiled, taking another second to remember to offer a hand for me to shake.

I nodded at the name and accepted the handshake. It wasn’t a soft grip, but slightly wary. She could use a little confidence. “You know, you shouldn’t be so frightened by them. They won’t bite you.”

I hadn’t mentioned Victoria’s name, but she got what I meant, biting her lip and trying to joke to dismiss my comment. I wasn’t too impressed. “I mean it.” I opened my notebook, this time on a random page, and started doodling a spiral pattern out of habit. “They seem like they’ll hurt you but if anyone was that mean sabotage would already be happening. Worse case scenario maybe one of them is that petty, but you’d have to piss them off for real to worry about it.”

Maya nodded. “It sounds logical… Thanks anyway.”

That smile was more convincing than the previously given, even if she changed the subject after it.

It took a few seconds for Wilson to stop laughing. “Oh wait, you’re serious?”

Even if he couldn’t see it through the call, I rolled my eyes at him. “You talk as if I can’t make friends.”

“Well, I mean… you can, but you hate them most of the time.”

That got a snort from me. “I don’t hate them. I just don’t trust their intentions.”

“Same difference. Clove Teasdale doesn’t make friends.”

That was a partial truth. I had various friend groups during high school and middle school, but none of them stuck with me. I was that person people wanted to be friends with, but not for any good reasons. It was because we fitted or because it was expected. Other times it was just convenient. Sometimes I wondered if maybe it was me though. Maybe I didn’t know how to be a good friend. That or I had really bad luck.

People at Mt. Rainer High School always seemed to strike some drama no matter what the clique. More often than not, about something I couldn’t understand, but whenever I gave suggestions to make things less complicated I was ignored, an annoyance, or horrible for not supporting a side.

When groups fractured I took a step back. Better alone than in a mess. Wilson had never understood why I’d give it all up and move on so fast, but I didn’t blame him. He knew that it was a smart choice to avoid drama, yet wished he could have that choice himself. He didn’t. He wasn’t really liked around school and therefore had only one friend...Which wasn't that different from me except I could pretend more.

Students liked to say it was because he was kind of a nerd. He knew as much as I did that it was because of his previous Caste though, even if no one would admit so. It was kinda dumb. As dumb as the caste system itself–trying to set a number with the life you’ll get–forcing a talented artist to become a teacher and a physics genius to be Picasso.

Not everyone could pull off a Da Vinci and be good at whatever they were put in. Many people failed because of that. Others were like Wilson’s mother, giving up the life she was born in for a life as a Three with whom she fell in love with. That left Wilson as nothing but a Two by chance. Terrible, dreadful chance that he never even asked for and would probably give up to get his parents back.

I leaned against my chair and got back to our conversation. “Statistically speaking, most people that stay friends are from college so…”

He pretended to be offended. “Ouch.”

”You’re decent enough. But as I was saying, I’ll try to befriend some of the girls. This isn’t school.”

“Hmm, you’re right. Everyone here sucks.”

“Even Graciela?” I teased, remembering the name I’d gotten out of him a few days ago. He scoffed back at me.

“No, she hasn’t been corrupted yet.”

“Now you just have to actually talk to her.”

He laughed for the second time. I was silent. “Oh, you’re serious again.”

I shook my head. “You’re a lost cause, kid.”

It was the middle of freshman year when we met for the first time.

I was placing books in my backpack, my head making a list of the homework for the next day when Cooper pushed him into a set of lockers feet away. I turned my head in the direction of who would one day be the future varsity quarterback as he took care of the new wimpy kid.

Cooper wasn’t really original, trying as hard as possible to go for the popular-jock-bully stereotype as soon as the school year started. Intimidating middle schoolers and stealing lunch money he didn’t even need. It was hard to ignore sometimes, but I did.

Pressing my lips together, I watched as he stepped away to laugh at the boy, inciting his two friends to join him on whatever joke he’d made. Obviously, they did. Cooper’s father was a high ranking officer in the military. He had everything he needed to be on a high pedestal in school one day, which was annoying.

I was on the list of few who ever stood up to him since we’d once been friends. That is before he filled his head with air. The brief moment I got to look at his new prey was enough to recognize the black haired kid holding tightly onto the strap of his backpack with a clenched jaw.

His eyes darted from Cooper to the floor around him, head hidden between his shoulders. I’d seen that face in a million pictures around Mrs. Grayson’s house after my chess classes with her. It was her grandson, the one she always referred to as little robin. Apparently, the kid ran around saying “holy cows, Batman” more than he should when he was seven.

She told my parents he would move in with her soon, being the legal guardian his parents’ had asked for. “Car accident,” she’d mentioned. I had already spotted him in our algebra class a few times that week. He seemed advanced enough to take it before high school which only made him a bigger target.

Cooper nudged him, “Come on, that was hilarious.” Little Robin didn’t seem to have the same spirit Mrs. Grayson always talked about now and only gulped, averting his gaze. Cooper didn’t leave him though. “Cat got your tongue or something? I’ve never heard you say anything in class.” He towered over him, making him press his back even closer to the lockers.

I narrowed my eyes at them and walked over. I hadn’t precisely told Mrs. Grayson I would keep an eye out for him, but I felt like I needed to on her behalf. Sometimes she’d served as a babysitter of sorts when my parents traveled together. She was good to me.

I elbowed Cooper’s friends out of the way and they gave angry glares until they recognized me. They decided to step away instead so I stood behind Cooper and tapped his shoulder.

“What-” he paused mid-sentence as he turned around, eyes locking on me, annoyed for the split second he realized I wasn’t one of his friends. Jaw clenched, he stood up straighter and then mumbled my name between a gritted-teeth smile. “Anything I can help you with?”

“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked, flatly.

He offered a charming smile. “Oh, just asking the genius for some tutoring classes. You know how bad I’m at Algebra. I thought I might as well ask him to teach me some stuff. Right George?” He elbowed the kid for a sign of confirmation.

I was pretty sure his name wasn’t George, yet Little Robin didn’t correct him either as he spared me a glance himself. There was a pause long enough to tell Cooper was lying. And though I knew that much already, in the end, the boy thought it was wiser to agree halfheartedly to the lie. Survival of the fittest. He wouldn’t disagree after Cooper established himself as an authority so firmly.

I remained silent, thinking of how to turn the situation around. The kid was new, he didn’t know what to do. It was like a game of poker. Bluff even if you don’t have the upper hand.

“He can’t tutor you,” I stated, earning a confused frown from both.

“And why is that?” Cooper crossed his arms, puffing out his chest. Good thing this wasn’t a matter of physical strength, and if it were, a strategy could give leverage either way.

“Because I asked him to tutor me already.” My turn to lie.

The boy blinked, trying to read between the lines of our conversation while Cooper narrowed his eyes at me. “I didn’t think you needed help with math, Clove.”

“Well, I do, and he promised to help me out.” I looked at the boy. “Right kid?”

Again he only blinked.

Your turn to join the game Robin, don’t disappoint. It took him another second, but his eyes lit up with understanding and he stood up straighter. “Yeah, I um…I did.”

Cooper glared at him and the kid broke eye contact, however, didn’t slump against the lockers anymore. Then the glowering was at me.

I only raised my eyebrows in response, inciting a move from Cooper. His lip twitched, jaw set as I stared up at him. He knew better than to make a scene. I’d tied his hands. He couldn’t force Wilson to tutor him if I claimed he’d agreed to tutor me first. Bringing in a teacher to ‘settle the situation’ was possible if I wanted too. There was no way for him to win.

Knowing how to pick his battles, he turned around to leave but I stopped him. “Wait.”

“What?” he groaned.

I crossed my arms. “Did you take any money from him?”

His eyes flashed as he swiveled around. I waited. He let out a breath through his nose before placing a grin on his face to hide unwillingness. If there was something Cooper hated was letting others know someone had been able to push his buttons.

He turned to the boy, taking a few bills out of his pocket, and forced his voice to sound friendly. “Hey, thanks for lending me the money kid, but turns out I might not need it anymore.”

The boy stared at the money like it was on fire, but accepted its returns when he noticed my head gesture and the jock’s angry gaze.

“Happy now,” Cooper muttered afterward. I shrugged and he stormed off as soon as he could, followed by the other two jerks. Once they were gone I looked back at him.

“You okay?”

His head snapped back in my direction. “What just..”

I didn’t let him finish the question and simply announced, “He lost the game.”

His mouth opened to reply. Nothing came out and I glanced at my watch. If I didn’t get moving I’d have no chance to eat. “Stay out of his way and you’ll be fine.”

“Um… y-yeah, alright. Thanks.”

I nodded. “Clove Teasdale.”

“Geordi Wilson.”

George would have been better… I sized him up. His uniform was in pristine form: shirt tucked in, vest ironed to perfection, hair combed neatly and shoes as shiny as they could be. Not bad by any means, but definitely like he was trying too hard. He would need some help to survive around here.

I turned around to leave. “Stick with Wilson, kid.”

#//fics #//not a challenge #wilson tag #maya tag

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