#erm I dunno I think I’m very funny

[0m3n-0f-d3ath]

Test dialogue animation

[sugar-coat-it]

Body piercer! Matty part 2

Part 1 , Part 3

WE ARE SO BACKKK!! and, as promised, with filth

Fem! reader

Contains: Meet cute date, ADHD brain dork Matty, Matty being a boob guy, piercing play, praise, Matty’s pierced tongue <3, possessiveness, oral sex (f receiving), touch of spit play, titty fucking, cum play?, finger sucking

Word count: 5,092

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PART TWO- You've been set up on a blind date with the gorgeous man who pierced your nipples. Surprise!

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You’re not entirely sure whether to call this a cruel joke or a goddamn blessing, it may be too soon to tell as the both of you just stare at each other. In order to identify him, you were informed that your date would be wearing some metal band t-shirt. To ensure you weren’t being delusional, you glanced down to see that that was exactly what he had on, along with that same chain he’d worn the day you met. Matty looks like he’s doing the exact same thing, trying to figure out if this is some odd coincidence, or if you’d really been set up on a date together. There’s no question that when your eyes meet a second time, you both know it’s the latter. He approaches the table slowly, a charming smile of disbelief on his lips, like he’d run into an old friend. You’re pretty sure your expression is more one of shock and denial that you’re face to face with the man who’s already seen your tits and watched you cry when he pierced them. Together, those practically add up to third base. 

“Now, this is a surprise. I remember you, you came into the shop a few weeks back, yeah?” he says before cocking his head towards the empty seat in front of you, “May I?”

You’re silent for a couple of seconds like your mouth hasn’t caught up with your brain. Mentally kicking yourself, you shake your head quickly to get out of the haze. You motion for him to sit down, sputtering out a “Hi, yes, of course!”, likely sounding all too eager. He shoots an amused glance at you before settling in across from you, his eyes darting across the room for a few moments as a testament to his overactive mind. You feel an unexplainable rush when those gentle brown eyes finally settle on you, stifling any effort your brain was making to try and come up with something to say. Silence. Dry-mouthed, you land on: 

“... is this too awkward of a situation?”

“I dunno. It’s only awkward if you make it awkward,” he shrugs, but he seems equally unsure about how to navigate this, “I don’t think it’s awkward.”

Awkward is starting to no longer feel like a real word the more it’s said. 

“Right…” you trail off, your eyes starting to drift to the floor. 

Suddenly, Matty snaps his fingers, his eyes widening like he’s just gotten the best idea ever, making your gaze flick back to him with surprise.

“Okay, how’s this: we pretend we’ve never met and I’ve never seen your… erm, you get the idea. Right, ready?” he explains rapidly, now holding his hand out to you enthusiastically, “Hello, I’m Matty, it’s lovely to meet you, you look very nice.” 

You laugh with disbelief at his sudden burst of energy, tentatively reaching to hold his hand in return, giving it a firm shake. Maybe this won’t be so uncomfortable after all. 

“Hi Matty,” you smile, offering your name in return before letting go of his hand, feeling some of the tension melt away from your rigid posture. 

“Good, now that’s out of the way. I’d really like to know more about you if that’s okay, pretty stranger I’ve never met before,” he grins, leaning his head against his hand like he’s preparing to pay full attention to whatever you tell him. 

You do just that, and he nods along, interjecting occasionally with his own anecdotes. You learn a lot of things about Matty too over the course of the date. One of them is that when he really gets going about something, he stammers because he talks so fast. Little details that only make you find him more charming. It’s funny how quickly he turned from what felt like a figment of your imagination to something tangible. He’s no longer just the face of your fantasy, the depth of his personality is immense, you can tell just from the short time you’ve spent together. You find yourself more curious about him than anyone you’ve ever met. You want to tear him open. 

Conversations flow freely, there’s nothing strained about the date, you can tell he feels the same, his pretty brown eyes shining with mirth, crinkled at the corners when he laughs. The drinks you’d ordered are long finished and paid for (by him, at his insistence) by the time the lively chatting starts winding down into a comfortable quiet. 

“Y’know, I did kinda hope I’d see you again,” he says softly, almost shyly as he breaks the silence between you.

“Yeah, I did too. I’ve thought about it a little too much, probably,” you chuckle, your cheeks warming at his sentimental admission.

“Are we done pretending we’re strangers now?” he smiles, a toothy, boyish smile. 

“I think we are, yeah. If so, can I ask why you didn’t ask me out that day?” you ask, getting right to the heart of the matter. 

Matty looks up at the ceiling for a moment, his lips pressing together into a thin line as he tries to conjure an excuse but comes up blank, fidgeting with the silver chain around his neck. 

“I don’t really know. Well, I think part of it was that I was supposed to be takin’ care of you, in a way? Like, you were in my hands, I didn’t want to weird you out, be the creep that pierces your tits then asks you on a date. Especially cause you didn’t want a bloke piercing you in the first place, d’you know what I mean?” he rambles, making many big motions with his hands, “and… I dunno, you’re very pretty.” 

His voice lowers with a shrug on the last part like it’s a secret just between you and him, looking a little hesitant like he believes he’s just bared too much of himself to you. God, he’s fucking lovely.

“I get it, Matty,” you nod, reaching for one of his hands that’s resting on the table. 

Matty nods back at you slowly, seeming to be processing the way you’re not put off by his talkative tendencies. He turns his hand over to properly hold yours, giving it a squeeze to show his appreciation. He doesn’t say anything, but you can tell it means a lot to him that you listen to him. 

“Well,” he starts, clearing his throat, “I still ended up on a date with you anyway. Pretty fucking mint.” 

“Yeah, pretty fucking mint,” you repeat with a snort. 

Matty glances around the cafe, noticing the bustling of the staff cleaning tables and starting to put away the baked goods. Have you really been there that long? 

“I suppose they’re starting to close up…” he notes, sounding a little deflated that your date is coming to an end. 

“Looks like it,” you hum, fidgeting with your empty cup. 

“Can I walk you home, maybe?” he offers, a bit of hope sparking in his sleepy eyes. 

Your heart skips a beat at his proposition. It’s not much, but it’s certainly something that could lead to more. The chemistry between you is palpable, neither of you wants this to end; it’s a recipe for the best kind of trouble.

You leave the cafe together with Matty at your side, his hands shoved in his pockets as you lead the way. The walk is quiet, but you can tell his mind is racing with just a glance, he’s fidgeting with something in his pockets with slightly furrowed eyebrows. He’s so cool, but you’d never imagined him to be so hyperactive, it’s a wonder that he keeps his hands so steady when he works. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think it was endearing, finding yourself wondering what was going on in that head of his. Before you can even open your mouth to ask, he starts to tell you a story about his job, prattling on while including a bunch of technical piercing terms that you know nothing about. You just gaze up at him, infatuated as you reach to cling to his arm the whole way back. You need this man (and his rambling) terribly. 

“This is me,” you say when you stop in front of your home, motioning to the quaint apartment building. 

Your voice is almost hesitant, like you wish you lived a little further so you could keep chatting. You’re already internally debating inviting him up, remembering that your roommate should still be out for the day. How are you supposed to ask him that? You’re feeling a little out of practice with being smooth. 

“Right… well, this was really nice,” he nods, trying to keep his cool, but he’s smiling at you with such sweetness that he’s blowing his own cover. 

“Yeah, it was,” you agree, his smile so infectious that you can’t help but return it. 

There are a few moments of quiet, the sense that something else could happen lingers in the air as Matty toes at the pavement with his boot. You shatter the silence with a question you don’t really know how to phrase other than just spitting it out.

“Would you want to come up?” 

He blinks at you a few times before smiling, scratching the back of his neck as he tries not to appear too elated. 

“Yeah, I would.”

The moment you’re both inside your apartment, he’s reaching to cup your cheeks, backing you up against the door, getting so close that you can feel his warm breaths against your lips. Your eyes are lidded as you stare at his mouth, your cheeks prickling with heat at just the feeling of him holding your face. You feel like your skin is buzzing with anticipation as Matty swallows thickly, want is plastered all over his face.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks softly, always the gentleman. 

You nod quickly, your hands snaking up his chest to rest at the back of his neck, the tip of his mohawk tickling your fingers. Without another moment to spare, he leans in and presses his lips to yours, both of your eyes fluttering shut as the tension between you bursts, fizzling under your skin. The kiss starts slow as he slots his lips against yours, his thumb tentatively running over your cheek as he draws in deep breaths of you. Your lips begin to lock more eagerly within moments, you’re no longer looking to taste but to devour. The tip of Matty’s tongue drags along your bottom lip sensually and you allow him to lick into your mouth, swallowing up your gasp as need festers within you. Messily, you start shedding jackets and shoes while being unable to keep your hands off of each other. Rushed kisses are exchanged as Matty stumbles, leaning down to unlace his boots while his other hand grasps your waist. His shoes land on the floor with a clunk as he stands back up to his full height, pulling you flush against his body by your ass. The whole thing is awfully reminiscent of two horny teenagers dying to explore each other for the first time, the thought has you giddily smiling into the kiss. Matty doesn’t even know what you’re smiling about, but he’s doing it right back, giving your backside a playful squeeze just to hear you squeak against his mouth. 

You lead him by the hand to your room, it's dizzying how quickly making out has turned to you underneath him on your bed, the both of you topless with roaming hands. He makes quick work of snaking his hands around your back, unclasping your bra, and sliding it down your shoulders. 

“Fuck… there she is. Y’know, these are some of my best work, I’d say,” Matty muses proudly, reaching out to cup your breasts in his hands. 

It’s completely unlike when he’d touched you in the shop. He puts his whole bare hands on you keenly instead of only touching you when necessary, avoiding even brushing you with his knuckles. You sigh with relief, arching into his palms as your daydreams play out in real-time, it’s all so much better than you’d imagined. Matty stares down at your tits with a pleased smile, clearly happy to see your chest again. He massages them with his hands for a few moments before taking them off of you to get a good look at the piercings. Oh so gently, he splays his fingers out at your sides, settling his thumb over one of your nipples. You expect him to start to tweak and pull at it, but instead, he gently rolls the pad of his thumb against the bud, letting out a hum of satisfaction as you suck in a sharp breath. It’s so much yet so little at the same time.

“You’re teasing,” you accuse softly, your breath catching in your throat at just how much more sensitive to the touch your piercings have made you.

“Teasing? I’m just making sure they’re properly healed, don’t want it to hurt, sweetheart,” he reassures, an unmistakable glint of mischief in his eyes as he slowly runs his thumb in little feather-light swirls over the peak of your breast.

Finally, when he’s decided you’ve gone through enough torture by his hand, Matty begins to tweak the piercing, flicking the barbell with his thumb just to watch you squirm underneath him. Warmth flushes through your body like a thunderous wave, your toes curling reflexively. You gasp at the unfamiliarly strong sensation, your fingers curling to grasp his arms tighter as he toys with you.

“How’s that feeling?” he asks, his voice low, gravelly. 

“It’s good…” you mumble, your chest heaving slightly as you feel a harsh pang of need resounding through your body, between your legs.

“Good. And this?” he continues before suddenly pinching your nipple meanly between his thumb and forefinger. 

You jolt as he pulls a sharp moan from you, your back arching at the new rush of hot, tingly pain. You’ve never in your life felt a sensation so powerful, so mind-numbing from only your breasts, and it’s fucking incredible. You’re staring at Matty with wonderment like he’s some kind of deity, begging him to show you more of the potential of your own body. He’s guiding you through the storm, soothing the ache with two gentle fingers circling the hardened bud. Matty clicks his tongue, his darkened eyes burning into you.

“Asked you a question. Did you like that?” he chides, pinching your pierced nipple between his calloused fingers a second time. 

“Fuck! Yes, yes, I liked it!” you cry, your body writhing beneath his weight. 

“Atta girl… keep using your words for me, okay? Much better that way.”

It seems his silver tongue that day at the parlor wasn’t just a one-off, he’s talented with words and you’re dying to hear more. He leans in, pressing his lips to the valley between your breasts, trailing up until his lips are settled over your other, neglected nipple. Matty sticks his tongue out, tracing the peak of your breast with his tongue, flashing his tongue piercing to you in the process. Fucking obscene. 

“Was fuckin’ dreaming of doing this,” he mumbles before delving into you, licking a drawn-out stripe across your flesh. 

Your eyes widen as you feel the metal stud of his tongue piercing pass over your nipple, letting out a breathy moan as he maintains unwavering eye contact with you while doing it. He groans as if your skin is the best thing he’s ever tasted, continuing to tweak your other nipple while taking this one between his lips, sucking gently while flicking his pierced tongue against you. Your hips rock forward automatically, finding a slow, rolling pace in search of anything that will relieve the throbbing between your thighs. Matty smirks against your skin as you start to grind into him, allowing himself to meet your rhythm. His growing erection is pressing into your thigh now, the friction between you just made the room feel much hotter.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, not daring to break his gaze.

You thread your fingers into his fluffy mohawk, keeping a hold on his head as he continues to ravish you, his breath hot and fanning across your skin. His tongue piercing clashes against the barbell through your nipple, tugging at it amidst the wet warmth of his mouth. A harshness overcomes his features as he pulls away, dragging his tongue up the expanse of your chest to the column of your neck, his mouth right by the shell of your ear.

“You know, when you walked out of there, the only thing I could think was some fuckin’ dickhead who wouldn’t know how to treat you would get to touch these and not me. Drove me fucking mental,” he rasps lowly, his teeth baring as his upper lip twitches with irritation at the mere thought of it. 

He tugs at one of your piercings roughly, making your hips buck forward as you let out a sharp cry. Matty just smiles cockily, leaning down to kiss it better, pressing his lips to your breast apologetically.

“I don’t want anyone else to touch them,” you murmur, tightening your fingers in his hair, earning a little groan from him. 

“No? Just me?” he coos, reaching to grasp your jaw possessively, “you’re right, baby, I should be the only one who gets to appreciate my handiwork, don’t you think?”

You just nod obediently, feeling a strong pulse between your thighs as the heat continues to pool inside you. Your heart is beating out of your chest at the way he so easily weakens your resolve to nothing. You turn your cheek towards his thumb resting at your jaw, pressing a kiss to the digit while blinking up at him with your best “fuck me”-eyes. 

“You’re so damn pretty,” he sighs, running his thumb over your pliant bottom lip, “can I make you feel good, sweetheart?” 

“Yes, please touch me, Matty,” you whisper while he pulls at your bottom lip with his thumb. 

“God,” Matty groans, “this is going to be very fun if you keep talking like that.” 

He begins kissing his way down your body, mapping you out with his skilled lips and hands. His fingers settle at your hips, hooking under your legs so he has a better angle to get between them. Your breath hitches as you realize what he’s doing, something that most men only reluctantly offer. 

“You don’t have to-” you start to say, cut off by your breath hitching when he bites at your inner thigh. 

“No, I don’t have to,” he interjects, now licking over where he’d marked you with his teeth, “but I really, really want to.” 

With no protests from you, he leans down, pressing a kiss to your panties, right over where you’d soaked a damp spot into them. You squirm slightly as he drags his lips up to your clothed clit, making a show of looking up at you while he does so. You’re aching for him, there’s no doubt that he can feel the pulses between your legs against his mouth. Matty slowly hooks one of his fingers into the ruined fabric of your panties, pulling them to the side.

“Oh, baby…” he moans approvingly, his eyes lidded with lust. 

 You catch the way Matty grinds his hips down into the mattress at the sight of you, but just once, just enough to take the edge off with some friction against the straining in his pants. You can’t help but feel flattered at his eagerness, pride swelling in your chest. Wasting no time, Matty delves between your thighs, parting your honeyed folds with his tongue until he finds your clit. Immediately, he latches onto it with his lips, sucking and swirling the tip of his tongue around the swollen bud. You cry out, your hips arching off of the bed just for him to push them back down firmly. His tongue stud feels even better nudging against your clit than it did your nipples, that little silver ball stealing your breath from your lungs. Matty moans against your cunt, his eyes rolling back slightly as he eagerly laps between your legs, he’s eating you like he wants to drown in you. 

“Tastes fucking divine…” he murmurs, making your head spin with the languid circles of his tongue. 

You curse under your breath, clutching at his shoulder for dear life as your hips start to wantonly roll forward against his mouth. You’re hurtling towards release almost shamefully quickly, your thighs clamping around his head, and he doesn’t seem to mind one bit. It’s all gathering and tightening inside you quickly, compounding with every swipe of his practiced tongue. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, the flames lit and fanned by the man buried between your thighs.

“Matty- Matty, I’m close,” you warn, your nails digging into his shoulders with widened eyes. 

Matty rears back for a moment and shushes your whimpers of protest as he stares up at you, gathering saliva on his tongue before spitting on your pussy, then rubbing it into your clit with his thumb. You can’t help but moan at how filthy his little move was, watching in shock as he immediately goes back to ruining you with his mouth.

“Good fucking girl, c’mon, give it to me,” Matty rasps against you, his eyes lighting up with intensity as he watches you near the edge.

Your body writhes, you’re gasping for air amidst the sheer euphoria building to a high. Your orgasm rips through you like sparks exploding under your skin. Your hips lift from the mattress, stuttering and bucking while your mouth opens with a broken cry, his name like a mantra on your lips. Your cunt flutters and throbs, sensations emanating through you in electric waves. Matty watches you like it’s a damn privilege to watch you fall apart, his eyes trained on your every reaction as he eases you through your climax. He continues his ministrations until you whine, pushing his head away from between your trembling thighs. He smirks up at you with a glistening chin and lips, looking very happy with himself. 

“H-holy shit,” you gape, dazed as you chase your breath with a heaving chest, loosening your vice grip on him. 

“Mm, could do that all fuckin’ night with a cunt like that,” he sighs, wiping his face with the back of his hand. 

You shudder at his words, clambering to pull him back up and smash your lips to his, tasting your arousal that’s heavy on his lips and tongue. The high from your orgasm lingers, clouding your head pleasantly as Matty hums contently into the kiss, pushing damp, stray strands of hair behind your ear, his lips moving with equal fervency. You haven’t forgotten about his pleasure, not in the least, and how could you when he’s rock hard against your thigh? You’d like nothing more than to return the favor, and you have just the thing in mind. 

“Matty,” you whisper, pulling away from the kiss to cup his pretty face in your hands, “I know how much you like my tits. Do you think you’d like to… use them?” 

“Are you asking me to fuck your tits, sweetheart?” he grins breathlessly, his eyebrows shooting upwards with surprise.

You nod, chewing at your lip as you get flustered by your own suggestion. Matty groans lowly, his cock twitching in his baggy pants at your confirmation. He leans in, peppering little kisses all over your cheeks, forehead, and nose. 

“Shit, I think I’d love nothing more, actually. Can I really?” he asks between thankfully pressing his lips to your face.

“Yeah, please, want you to,” you smile, giggling at his pure excitement, wrapping your arms around his neck to toy with his hair. 

Giddily, he places one last kiss on the tip of your nose before getting up to undo his pants, fumbling with the zipper with how damn thrilled he is to get his hands on you. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears as anticipation blooms when he finally succeeds. Matty pushes them down his legs and flings them to the side, leaving him in just his briefs that leave nothing to the imagination. You swallow hard at the sight, the outline of his aching cock is clear beneath the dark fabric, damp spots of precum soaked into them near his tip. Clearly, he really enjoyed eating you out, and he’s not ashamed of it in the slightest. Slowly, he eases his thumbs under the elastic waistband, your eyes following the expanse of his V line, decorated with a colorful rose tattoo. Matty pulls his underwear the rest of the way down, knowing damn well that you’re going to like what you see. Heat rushes to your face, your thighs pressing together at how gorgeous he is, your reaction only heightening as he reaches to lazily stroke himself, hissing as he runs his thumb against the weeping tip to slick the surface of his shaft. He winks at you slyly, his ego sufficiently fluffed by the time he lets go of his cock to crawl over to you. He guides you down to your knees at the edge of the bed, him sitting before you with spread legs. Once he’s sure you’re comfortable, Matty flashes a little smile down at you, reaching to cup your cheek encouragingly. Your own smile wobbles with adoration as you lean in, letting his length rest between your tits before pushing them together, enveloping his cock. 

“Fuck, yeah, that’s it. Keep ‘em just like that, that’s my girl,” he praises, tossing his head back with how good your plush, full breasts feel around him.

He begins to buck his hips upward slowly, sighing out as you keep your tits pressed tightly between your hands, creating the perfect little space for him. Matty groans, watching as the tip of his cock drives between your perfect breasts, his precum spreading against your skin. He has to clench his fist hard into the sheets to prevent himself from bursting within the first fifteen seconds of glory, he’s going to make this last as long as he possibly can withstand. 

“How’s it feel that I’ve marked you for forever, hm? Hickeys fade, but these…” he pants, reaching to grab at one of your piercings, “these aren’t going anywhere, isn’t that right?” 

You whine as he pinches at the barbell, nodding at him dumbly while he talks.

“Mine,” he says pointedly, a wolfish grin spreading across his lips.

 The revelation of how he’s laid claim to you in a way no other lover ever can has your mind reeling as you begin to move in time with his thrusts, your tits bouncing with your combined efforts to get him off. Matty lets out a shuddering moan, running his thumb over your cheek as he goes faster now, snapping his hips up again and again, relentlessly chasing his high. 

“Dirty girl, lettin’ me use you like this, so good to me,” he murmurs through gritted teeth. 

He keeps going till he gets to the point where he can no longer stave off his orgasm, the view in front of him is simply too pornographic, he’s dying for relief. The bed creaks with Matty’s movements, his hips stuttering as he begins to lose his frankly impressive rhythm. He hisses out a string of curses, nearing his edge as he rakes his hand through his mohawk to keep it out of his eyes. The silver chain around his neck bounces against his chest with his body's rhythm.

“Getting close. You want me to finish all on your tits, angel? Paint those pretty piercings with my cum?” he asks, but he already knows the answer. 

You nod quickly, eyes wide and expectant. That’s all he needs to pull his dick out from between your breasts, hurriedly pumping himself with his lower lip caught between his teeth, moaning and shuddering as he fists his cock. Matty lets out one final, guttural sound as he spills across your chest, hot spurts of his milky cum adorning your skin. You gasp at how lewd it all is, feeling yourself getting soaked all over again as you take his release, all while he cups your face with juxtaposing sweetness.

“Fuuuuck, that was hot,” he drawls, letting go of his length to bend down and press a kiss to the top of your head, his nose buried in your hair as he breathes deeply.

When he sits back up, Matty reaches to gather some of the pearly ropes splayed across your chest on his fingers, holding them to your mouth. Obediently, you open, allowing his digits to press past your lips for you to clean. You swirl your tongue around his thick fingers with a whimper, sucking till every trace of his cum is down your throat. He hums, satisfied at your compliance as he withdraws them from your mouth, wiping your spit on his inner thigh. Then, Matty crooks his finger at you, motioning for you to get up off of your knees and come to him. You move without hesitation, standing to wrap your arms around him as he helps you straddle his waist. Both of your faces are flushed with a sheen of sweat, making you almost glow under the low light of your bedroom. Neither of you can remember the last time you felt so satisfied. He glances down at your breasts again, smirking like he’s admiring his masterpiece. 

“Now that’s a sight, innit?” he notes smugly. 

You just shove his shoulder playfully, which makes his bright laughter ring throughout the room, wrapping his arms around you for a tight embrace. He ruffles your hair gently, the both of you sharing a blissful come-down from the high. 

“You were so perfect,” he whispers, sounding a little in awe of you. 

“So were you,” you smile into his neck, running your fingers down his back, feeling each bone of his spine beneath his warm skin. 

You stay just like that for a bit longer, breathing each other in. Something about the intimacy of this moment tells you that this wasn’t just a one-time thing. Not with the way he holds you like he doesn’t want you to slip through his fingers. He runs his hands up your arms tenderly, leaning back to look you in the face before he speaks, making you ponder how long those sleepy-looking eyes might stay in your life. 

“Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?” 

—----------------------------- 

Tried to make the date lore accurate, bro loves to talk

While I don’t think there's more to the story, I could be convinced otherwise, perhaps! Either way, I'm sure there will be blurbs about him

Thank you so much for all the support with this fic, it was so so fun to write <3 <3 <3

[fruitpunchjollyrancher]

please tell me i’m not the only one who thought these jean lines were corny as fuck when i first read them. like we spend the entire game in the mind of a very mentally ill and depressed man, and ngl based on the target audience of this game i’m gonna assume a lot of people have first hand experience with depression, and he’s like erm. sorry i didn’t want to stick around during your mental health crisis, i am DEPRESSED. sorry i don’t think your joke is funny, did i mention i have CLINICAL DEPRESSION. i dunno it just reads to me like he’s trying to make harry feel bad for having to put up with his shit but it’s just soooo corny to me 😭😭

also idk something about jean’s ableism throughout the game towards harry and how he specifically phrases it as “clinically depressed”. dunno what exactly i’m trying to get at but it’s floating in my brain and i can’t put it into words rn

[screampied]

also, we need a list of jjk men ranked most to least peg-able in your very own opinion.

omg okay. soooo

number one would be toji. he’d def be most peg-able. secretly has a kink for it. i feel like between satoru ‘n him he’s got such the sluttiest arch. like ???? plus he’s got a fat ass. imagine giving the toji backshots. pegging toji would be so funny though bc i bet his moans r so animalistic.

number two hmmm satoru. i feel like i don’t rly have to explain. he’s a freaky bitch he’ll literally ask to your face if you can peg him (again).

number three is probably choso. he would be number one but i’m biased 🗿🗿 choso is def peg-able. his moans would be soooo cute. he would for sure cum while being pegged

geto would maybe be four. i dunno he’d probably look at you like 🤔 if you ask to peg him. he’s def a slut too, has a meaaaan arch. i kinda feel like geto’s into being spanked ???

fifth would be nanami. i don’t think he’s peg-able. i just can’t see nanami being bent over on all fours LOLL.

sukuna, erm no. we’d probably die

[picusviridis]

Uuu Alfie's easy. I've got no idea why Obie travels with Cassius I never really thought about it beyond "music guys c:" ill admit

Alfie's companion(s) are Barker and (eventually) Alphonse; Barker's easy to explain, cos... (gestures) Alfie was a botany student? Though I don't think he killed Kalos or anything . I . dont know what happened there AND NEITHER DOES HE ! but he's GOT A DOG NOW (HOW COOL!) and he's got a dog for a while . . . what do you think he's just gonna? like? what? leave him in a cardboard box in some ginnel? come on . & I mean Alphonse would’ve found him in a similar manner to the game probably but Alfie likes alligators so its all cool. I don’t think Alfie is cool enough to be a companion on his own . loool he’s just dog guy what would he have to say

CASSIUS though he’s funny enough to be a companion I think . Meeting him would be an issue though I don’t know what the circumstances would be… maybe yet another musically-inclined hobo-type companion . this time dealing with big group-based damage? with a (tuned) guitar this time cos hes GUITARBOY . he plays a Bdim or some other dissonant chord & everyone starts crumpling like tissues. a major chord to up the stats/hp of allies & a minor chord to lower the stats of enemies . that wasnt the question though HUM. to recruit him…. I’m not sure beyond maybe a couple stat checks someplace or other . you prove to him you’re cool & awesome & he should come along & you lot can perform together places or something . idk . hes music guy ok

& Charlie… I never decided which WoL companion he’d get but like (shrugs) its 1928 now who Caaaaaares . as a companion himself though ? yeah okay . I dunno how he’d be ‘acquired’ but he can make Beasties and Turn Back Time (heal? like the time ring thing) and Destroy Time Paradoxes (AoE damage??? literal if-you-put-on-the-möbius-ring-he-could-take-it-off kinda destroy paradoxes/time curses/what have you ? though thats very very specific so like, what even) so that’s really fun. maybe he could even absorb shadow beasties into his watch …? idk :p

THOUGH . FOR. ERM. THE BONUS BONUS … there is ONE blorbo who fits the Literally only a companion description . WATTSON MY LITTLE GIY WATTSON FOREVER i posted him once in the lineup & i always always always say ‘oh i wish i could post about him’ SO IM POSTING ABOUT HIM ‼️ & i know you know him a little but …

see . see its him . CATHAL WATTSON the WHALER and WATTSON the BIRD. WHALER. anyway so something something transgender & asked some vague wish-giver to make him a man or whatever & so he got top surgery and a lobotomy which became a bird so it’s all fun . but he’s got a birdy & he’s killing the already dying whaling industry by (his bird) sinking all the ships that are mean to him . he’s saving the whales! but but but erm. he’s in Ocean City for the week cos his crew scuffed up the last trip & they gotta recuperate and whatnot .

he’d probably be easy to recruit (as in he’d follow you about cos he’s got nothing better to do) though HOW. erm. bird up (she, the bird, seems to be fuckin up the local bird populations? or… doing SOMETHING weird with the local bird population? she does this a lot . shes a weird bird .) & wattson would help you Stop That . maybe! & he could just follow you from there for funsies.

the only companion vignette i’ve thought of (that being the second one) was one where like . oh turns out they repaired & recuperated quicker than they thought and they’d all be off within the day. except that can’t happen! both for storytelling AND cos wattson doesn’t want that! so what does h[is bird] do? destroy part of the ship (again)! —and turns out they broke into the old storage part of the ship. how nice! Wattson would find something that would get his bird SO MAD to throw at the prez or the portal or what have you . you know ? yeah sure yeah this works

WEEK 4 QUESTIONS - COMPANIONS

Hey guys it's another week and things have been a little crazy maybe lol... Here we go for this week's question though! Companion centered!

Why do your characters travel with their companions? If not limited to the game events, how would their first meetings have gone?

As a bonus question, what events would need to happen if your character were a recruitable companion?

Bonus bonus: Do you have any OCs that could be companions? Tell us about them!

[staysaneathome]

That Day (Evening)

(The Entity-Swap kid fic WIP that now has a fourth part. Warnings for continued endangerment of children and high levels of pining)

The park is quite a bit further from where they lost the teenager in the hijab than Jon initially thought.

It’s almost funny, how two or three miles doesn’t sound like a very long way to run-walk. Just two or three, the small number making it sound doable, like they should be able to get there in a matter of minutes.

It’s less funny when they’ve been walking for over half an hour and Melanie won’t stop whining about how her legs are tired.

”Carry me.” She demands imperiously.

“No.” Replies Jon, flatly. “Last time I did that, you scratched me really badly. My shoulder and face still hurt.”

”They do not.” Melanie says, as if her denial is enough to undo all the damage. “And I won’t scratch this time. Carry me?”

”No. It’s not even much further to walk.”

”Uuuuugh, you said that last time!” She complains. “It’s been for-eeeee-veeer! Can we at least get some juice or a Freddo Frog or something?”

”With what money?” Jon asks archly.  That buys him maybe half a minute of blessed, blessed silence.

“Wait. You don’t have money?” Melanie asks with a frankly insulting level of incredulity. “But aren’t you like, an adult? Adults have money!”

”I’m twelve!” He sputters, gesturing to himself. “Do I look like I have any money?”

There’s a moment of silence as Melanie eyes him up and down. “I thought you were just ugly.” She says dismissively. “Wait. If you aren’t an adult, can I be in charge?”

”No!” He snaps indignantly. “I’m still the oldest.”

”That’s dumb.” Melanie complains. “You’re dumb. And ugly.”

”And older than you.” Jon reminds her smugly. He’s been with her for long enough by now that he knows when to dodge out of the way when she tries to pinch him.

It’s a relief when the park finally comes into view.

It’s an even bigger one when he catches sight of Martin sitting on the balance beam, looking around patiently.

It lifts a weight off Jon’s shoulders that he didn’t even know was there when Martin catches sight of him and his face breaks out in a grin, like the sun rising.  Then Martin’s face rapidly falls, and he’s sprinting over to them, looking like he’s seen a ghost.

Jon has a fleeting fear that the teenager in the hijab or the searcher are right behind them, poised and waiting for him to turn around to strike.

Martin slows, huffing and puffing as his hands reach out towards him, shaking slightly. “Jon! Jon, oh my gosh, what—what happened to, to your arm, to your face?!”

Ah, Jon thinks, as Martin cups his less-savaged cheek gently and tilts his head. Was that all he was frightened of?

”It’s nothing.” He says gruffly, trying not to think about how weird-hot-odd it feels to have Martin worry about some little scratches like this, fighting the urge to fidget. “Just doing, um. Doing what I had to.”

Martin’s eyes are big and liquid and sad, and he frowns, opening his mouth—

“Liar. You didn’t say it was ‘nothing’ when you wouldn’t carry me.” A sour voice interrupts.

Jon startles and Martin whips his hand away so fast it feel like a burn, both of them turning to stare down at where the interruption came from. Melanie is starfished on her back on the grass, glaring up at them moodily, one sweaty hand still clutching Jon’s. The Watcher informs Jon that her clothes will have grass stains on them when she gets up. Jon tries to inform the Watcher that he doesn’t care, but is ignored, as usual.

Melanie eyes Martin critically. “Are you his friend then?”

Martin straightens up, his usual smile on his face. “Erm, um—yes! Yes, yes I am Jon’s friend! Mar-Martin Blackwood! Um, hello! And, and you are?”

Melanie pulls her sweaty hand out of Jon’s grip and holds it out to Martin, sitting up. “M Melanie King. Jon kidnapped me and we’re friends now too.”

Martin’s smile freezes as he processes that sentence. His eyes dart between Jon and Melanie. “Ah. Um.”

”I did not.” Jon protests. “You were being kidnapped by a searcher, and I saved you.”

”Didn’t do a very good job of it.” Melanie mutters, pulling up grass by the roots and dropping it on his shoes.

Jon retreats with a disgusted noise, trying to shake it out where it’s fallen through the holes of his too-big trainers. ”Stop that! And-and we’ve just met, we’re not friends!”

There’s a moment of silence.

Melanie’s eyes start to water.  She begins making an awful noise that makes some part of Jon’s brain he hadn’t even known existed freeze up and go “Oh no”.

He exchanges a brief terrified glance with Martin, who reaches out. “Oh, no, no, no, oh please—”

Melanie wails, the sheer force of the noise making Jon stumble backwards.

“Melanie, shh!” He hisses, darting glances around at few parkgoers who are stopping to stare, “You’re making people—”

”NO!” She bellows, swiping out at him with a poorly aimed claw, tears and snot running down her face in rivulets. “I HAE-HATE YOU! I HATE THI-I-IS! I HATE THAT EVERYTHIN' SO ANNOYING, ALL, ALL THE TIME, AND IT DOESN'T STO-O-OP!! I HATE MY FRIENDS NOT, NOT LIKING ME ANYMORE! I HATE MY DADDY GETTIN' SAD 'CAUSE OF ME! I JUS' WAN' IT TO STOP! I WAN’ MY FRIENDS BACK!! I WANNA GO HOME!!”

The little girl curls in on herself, the bright green grass stains on the back of her sparkly top shaking with her as she continues to sob like her little heart is breaking.

Jon has no idea what to do to fix this, hands clenching and unclenching uselessly at his sides. He has no idea how she was touched by the Slaughter (though the Watcher croons for him to question her, to learn, to Ask—), and even if he did, it’s not as though he could make it just go away, as if a mark like this could be removed with a bit of scrubbing. This isn’t something that can just be pulled out of her, like a loose tooth. It’s part of her now, wedged deep inside like the Forsaken is in Martin, and the Watcher is in Jon.

He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t Know—

“I-I’ll be your friend!” Martin babbles frantically.

Jon stares at him, feeling suddenly, irrationally betrayed.

Melanie gulps and sniffles, peering up at him through red-rimmed eyes. “…you promise?”

”Cross my heart and hope to die.” Martin smiles, holding out a small, ragged tissue. “C’mon now, can you give me a big dragon blow into this?”

She gives him a Look, like she knows he’s trying to make her laugh and is cross with him for it, but does as he says, making a noise that’s a bit like a honk.

“Good job!” Martin praises, while Jon crosses his arms and tries to make his face not frown like he wants to. This is stupid. You can't be friends with somebody you’ve just met, you don’t Know them, it’s silly. Childish. Plus Martin’s his friend. Melanie has no right to come along and-and steal him like this. Martin looks up and catches sight of Jon’s face. His smile dims a bit and his colors go paler, more faded, which makes Jon’s tummy squirm uncomfortably.

Still, he keeps babbling, “I-I’m really happy to be your friend, and Jon’s friend too! I don’t have many friends at home, so this is. This is nice. To be friends with you two. It makes me happy. Do you have superpowers too? Like how I can go invisible, and Jon can make people tell him stuff and Know things?”

Melanie shrugs, tearing up the tissue in her hands. “Dunno. Making people get into fights, or something. Invisibility’s cool, I guess. But getting people to tell you stuff isn’t a superpower. That’s just asking questions. It’s dumb.”

“No it’s not!” Jon bristles indignantly, all his focus on the little friend-thief. “Asking questions can be dangerous. Especially when you can’t stop yourself from answering them. How’d you think the searcher was going to eat up your life?”

“W-well, a brain sucker monster like her wouldn’t need to ask questions, would they? They’d just bite your ugly head off and know everything anyway.” She argues back, little chest puffed out and tears all but forgotten. “If all that creepy lady was going to do is ask questions, I could take her. I just wouldn’t open my mouth. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.”

Jon barely notices Martin going wide-eyed and near translucent out of the corner of his eye as he opens his mouth to prove exactly why Melanie is wrong.

But he freezes up when he hears a soft, deep voice behind him. “Oh, really? Care to put that to the test?”

The searcher smiles down at the three of them.

Her eyes are empty and something hungry looks out from them.

”Come, little ones.” She coos, one hand outstretched. “Come home with me. Come back to the Collection. You’ll want for nothing, never hungry, never cold, never tired, never lonely, never angry. And you’ll hear such interesting stories. We’ve missed you, my prized Recorder. I’ve missed you so much.”

Jon feels frozen, pinned like a bird in the eyes of a snake, a part of him that he never wanted to know existed clamoring at him to take it, take her hand, you need the stories, you need—

A large, warm, soft hand grabs his, and yanks him back into the fog.

Jon yelps, though it feels like his yell is swallowed up in the crushing, inescapable isolation that now surrounds him. He sees Melanie, but it’s like she’s miles away, her shouting and directionless anger losing teeth as it dawns on her how utterly, utterly alone they both are. They aren’t friends. They can’t rely on each other. They’ll lose sight of each other and perish here, unremarkable and unremarked on and alone.

”C’mon!” A familiar, kind voice comes through the fog, shocking Jon back to his senses. “We’ve got to go! This way!”

His hand is being held. Of course it is. How could he forget? He and Melanie are holding Martin’s hands, as the barely visible boy tugs them through the eddies of fog, away from the searcher.

They run through the dreamlike realm of the Forsaken in a weird, birdlike configuration.

Martin had grabbed the hand which was closest to him on Jon, while Jon was still facing the searcher, locked into her gaze. The result is that his arm is drawn almost painfully across his body as they run, his sweaty palm clutching Martin’s tight, sure that if he even loosens his grip enough to change to a more comfortable position, he’ll be lost forever in the fog.

Melanie is stumbling along on Martin’s other side, her legs weak and shaky, almost skipping at some points to try and keep up with the pace Martin is setting, glancing back every so often. Tears are running down her face almost absentmindedly.

For a moment, as they pass through the darkening trees and get further and further away from the playground, Jon thinks they might actually make it. They might actually escape the searcher and live to fight another day.

”Stop.”

Jon feels his legs lock up, all his muscles seizing together as though cramped. The burning sensation of being Watched sears itself into the back of his neck, the entirety of him Known and Seen and Exposed.

He faintly hears Martin and Melanie scream as though they’re being peeled open and pinned down for study as he crashes face first into the mossy earth beneath them.

The searcher takes her time strolling up to them, forcing Jon to listen to his friends’ pained whimpers where they’ve fallen. Martin’s face scraped viciously from the bark of the tree in from of them, and Melanie unable to even inch off of where a root is digging into her stomach.

That’s how he knows it’s the man looking through her eyes, delighting in their distress.

”No,” He can hear Martin choke out, “No, st-stop it, st-stay away fr—!”

”Look at you.” The searcher coos in a tone that has never been her own. “All banged up and bruised. Do you enjoy this, Jon? Do you enjoy hurting your friends?”

Jon wants to scream, to cry, to yell that of course not, of course he doesn’t, he’d never want to, but it feels like his throat is closed up. It’s all he can do to suck in shaky breaths through his nose as the searcher gets closer and closer.

“Kill you,” He can faintly hear Melanie wheeze. Jon’s honestly at a loss for whether she’s speaking to the searcher or to him. “Swear, I-I swear, kill you, I’ll—”

“Come now.” The searcher says pleasantly. “That’s enough games. Time to come back now, children, Recorder. Time to come back to the Collection.”

He can see her hand reaching down for him.

A dark blur slams into the searcher.

Jon hears several short screams, what sounds incongruously like a growl and then a loud, wet, puncturing noise.

His limbs release from the rictus they’ve been forced into.

The burning sensation of being Watched fades to the ever-present prickle on the back of his neck.

Jon jerks his head up with a punched out gasp, reaching for the others, pulling them behind him even as he turns to See what is happening, what’s going on.

There’s a lady kneeling over the searcher’s limp, lifeless body.

She’s got combat boots and a hoodie that’s slipped down from her shoulders to bunch around her elbows. A small burst of scar tissue, almost like a flower, is visible and hidden again as she shifts, more animal than human in her movements. It reminds Jon of a nature documentary he watched with his grandmother once, a mountain lion stalking forward lithely to devour its prey.  There’s the same intent, hungry stare in her eyes that Jon vaguely recalls the mountain lion having as she draws up to her full height and pins the three children huddled at the base of the tree under her gaze. There’s a penknife in her hand that’s dripping with the searcher’s blood.

He hears Martin suck in a frightened whine behind him, fog spilling out to pool around Jon’s ankles. Melanie’s breathing so fast she sounds like she’s a mere moment away from hyperventilation.

They can’t escape like this. Not from a killer touched by the Hunt. Not without a distraction of some kind.

Jon’s mouth is opening before his brain can process what an awful idea this is. “How did you get that—”

He doesn’t even see her move.

All he knows is the breath is punched out of his lungs and his feet are dangling uselessly as the Hunter slams him into another tree, a snarl on her lips. The bloody penknife is pressed hard into the thin skin of his throat.

”So you’re one of them, hm?” The Hunter snarls, the burr of her Welsh accent mixing with a growl that almost drowns out Martin’s frantic cries of “JON!” A tiny part of his brain that isn’t frantically trying to stay as still as possible notes that she’s got Melanie’s sparkly hair bobble stretched around one wrist.

“I wonder.” The Hunter says, with fake casualness. “What’d be the best way to make sure you can’t ask any more of them pesky questions that hurt people, hm? The tongue? Or the voicebox?”

”DAISY, STOP!”

It’s like magic.

The Hunt slides away under the young woman’s skin like someone’s pulled a blanket over it. Not gone, the shape of it still plainly visible, but softened, gentled by the cover’s drapes and folds. The arm that’s holding Jon up trembles, ever so slightly, and the penknife is finally, finally pulled away, even if only by a few centimeters.  Jon’s breath hitches in his chest and he has to blink away tears.

As she twists around to face the teenager in the hijab, Jon’s given a clear view of one of her ears, which has begun to flush pink, for some reason.

”Basira.” There’s barely concealed excitement in her voice that is very confusing right now. “Hi. I, uh. I was in the area, and I, uh. Noticed you were having some trouble. So I found those kids that, that you were looking for.”

”That’s. Nice? But, Daisy, I need you to put him down now.” The teenager in the hijab is holding her hands out placatingly. “That boy’s not dangerous, not like Rayner. I wanted to ask him some questions.”

The teenager in the hoodie scoffs, but does as she asks, tucking the penknife away and lowering Jon to the ground. “If you say so. Just don’t let him ask you any—they’re tricky, Eye types like this.”

Jon feels his legs go wobbly the moment his feet touch earth. He slumps, breath wheezing out of him, heart racing like he’s running from the searcher all over again.

”JON!” Martin’s arms curve under his, pulling him forward into a tight, warm, soft hug. “Oh, oh god, I-I’m so sorry, ah-are you okay?! Did she hurt you?”

Jon can only grip feebly back, burying his head into Martin’s increasingly saturated shoulder as it feels like he shakes apart.

Part of his brain that isn’t focused on clutching onto Martin like he’s a lifejacket and swallowing compulsively to remind himself that he’s alright, he’s whole, faintly registers the sound of something smacking flesh, and the Hunter going “Ow!” “That’s what you get!” Comes Melanie’s shrill reply. “Don’t you ever touch him again, okay, you big, big, stupid, bullying, ugly—!”

”Okay, that’s enough of that.” The teenager in the hijab—Basira? says. “Break it up, you two.”

There’s the distant sound of dried leaves and tree detritus crunching underfoot, and then Martin’s breath hitches. Jon tightens his grip, preparing to twist him away from whatever’s threatening them now.

”Hey, easy, easy.” Basira’s voice comes from a lot closer. “I’m sorry about Daisy, but she’s very…passionate about stopping monsters. Like the one chasing you three. That was a monster, wasn’t it?”

“Y-yeah.” Martin stutters. “She was going to hurt Jon. Just like she did.”

Jon stiffens at the sound of the warning growl, but Martin doesn’t let go of him, even though Jon can feel his heart racing in his chest. A peek shows that Martin’s staring down the teenager in the hijab with a wobbly lower lip, but eyes set hard.

”And she’s very sorry about that.” Basira demurs. “It was all a big misunderstanding, wasn’t it Daisy?”

There’s a moment, and a decidedly grumpy, “Yes.”

“There we go.” There’s a rustle, and Jon withdraws his head from the safety of Martin to see that she’s pulled out a small leather-bound notebook and a pencil. “Now, could I ask you both some questions? About the whole,”

She makes an all-encompassing gesture to them and the cold fog of the Forsaken coiling around them.

”Our superpowers?” Martin blinks. “Why? Do you have them too?”

The teenager shakes her head. “No. I’m ah, uninvolved in a lot of this. But then a boy I was babysitting got kidnapped by shadow monsters, and I met Daisy while trying to rescue him, so ‘forewarned is forearmed’ and all that. And since I’m under strict orders not to go to the Orsinov Institute—”

”I told you,” The hunter—Daisy—interrupts. “That place is dangerous. They say they research stuff, but something ain’t right there. You’d walk in, and something else would waltz out in your place.”

Jon can’t help his curiosity. “H-how—?”  It feels like his vocal cords dry up under the glare the Hunter pins him with. Thin ice, she mouths at him.

”Yes, thank you, Daisy.” Basira cuts in, shifting so she breaks the line of sight between the Hunter and Jon. “So, as I am banned from ever setting foot in the one reputable center for the study of the supernatural in this country, I have to do my own research piecemeal from subjects in the field.”

Martin and Melanie are giving her blank looks.  “She wants to ask us about the Watcher, the Forsaken and the Slaughter and what we can do.” Jon translates.

Martin nods with a little ‘oh’. Melanie just looks even more confused.

”I just want my Daddy. I wanna go home.” Her voice breaks on the last word.

Basira’s face softens at that.

”Y-yeah.” Martin says, shifting from one foot to the other. “A-and I need to get my train back. My, my mum’s probably worried about me…”

Jon can’t quite help the way his arms tighten at that, though he loosens them quickly. It’s only natural. The sun’s practically gone down, after all. Whether Jon desperately wants him to stay has no import on the matter at hand.

“Right.” Basira scribbles down something in her notebook, then tears the paper out and then tears that into three strips. “This is my mobile number, and email address. You can contact me using either of these to talk about…superpower things.”

”And I’ll find you if you try to vanish, easy as anything.” Daisy adds with a toothy grin. “So don’t.”

”Daisy.”  The hunter holds up her hands. There’s dark red blood on the one that held the knife. “I’m joking, Basira, joking.”

Jon, despite how much he doesn’t want to, detaches from Martin. “I, I don’t have a phone. Or a computer.”

Basira hums, her head tilted to the side. “You know Angel of Islington? Near where you two got on the bus earlier?”

Jon nods as she goes on. “I can be found around there most days. Just drop by if you feel like sharing any of the things you’ve seen so far. And who knows? Maybe I’ll have some stories for you too.”

Something leaps in Jon’s stomach.

Still, the way the Hunter’s gone tense puts him on edge, so he makes himself say, “Only-only little ones. Not, not big stories.”

The teenager in the hijab nods impassively.  She claps her hands together. “Well, that’s enough excitement for one day, I think. Let’s see about finding your parents and getting you all home, shall we?”

Daisy nods, stepping close. Her ears are still red in the fading evening light. “I’ll come with you.”

Basira gives her an unimpressed look and a snort. “And then who’ll deal with that?”

They all turn to stare at the searcher’s body.  Martin shivers and grabs his hand, squeezing gently. Jon almost jumps when he feels something small and warm press close to his other side, before he looks down and sees Melanie’s leaf-and-twig-filled hair. The other sparkly bobble is almost falling out too.

Daisy’s eyebrows draw together and she lets out a small growl. “Ugh, fine. But just, um. Call me, maybe, next time? If you’re gonna go chasing after weird things.”

Basira smiles, playing with the edge of her hijab for some reason. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jon glances back as she ushers the three of them out of the park, shoulder and throat and everything else aching and feeling like he imagines an orange must do after the juice is squeezed out of it. The hunter’s eyes shine in the looming dark as they go, shifting from something that Jon wants to call friendliness to a more animalistic bent as she crouches over the body of the searcher, and the two of them disappear into the trees and the twilight.

[loupettes]

I needed a little break from writing doomsday, and this came out today instead. I hope you enjoy some Nine/Rose fluff!

H I R A E T H

SUMMARY: Nine/Rose. After leaving the Doctor alone in his grief, Rose is still upset over what happened that day he left her and Mickey on that spaceship for Reinette. She goes to find him and confront him and her feelings, but runs into somebody she could never have imagined to instead.

TAGS: fluff, hurt//comfort, romance, missing scene

Read on AO3: hiraeth

***

They sat, Rose and Mickey, at the table in the kitchen, both sipping their tea now in silence. The tour of the TARDIS had been short to say the least, mostly because she couldn’t really focus on much else other than the love of her life having fallen in love with somebody else within the space of half a day, maximum.

She shuddered, and scrunched her nose to finish the last of her tea. Well, not the last; she still had a fair bit left, but it had gone cold and just tasted a bit like sewage water at that point, so she didn’t particularly see the appeal in spending any longer pretending it was still a decent cup of tea.

Funny, she thought. My life now resembles a cup of tea.

***

They sat, Rose and Mickey, at the table in the kitchen, both sipping their tea now in silence. The tour of the TARDIS had been short to say the least, mostly because she couldn’t really focus on much else other than the love of her life having fallen in love with somebody else within the space of half a day, maximum.

She shuddered, and scrunched her nose to finish the last of her tea. Well, not the last; she still had a fair bit left, but it had gone cold and just tasted a bit like sewage water at that point, so she didn’t particularly see the appeal in spending any longer pretending it was still a decent cup of tea.

Funny, she thought. My life now resembles a cup of tea.

She managed to not raise suspicion from the man opposite her when she sighed, but when her cup hit the table a little more forcibly than she had intended, Mickey raised his eyebrow.

“Take it it’s still not a good time to ask?”

Rose threw him a glare; she was still quite irritated by his smug-but-trying-to-hide-it expression. “No, it isn’t.”

His brow pinched, and for a moment he looked sorry for her. Not in a pitiful way, but in a... sorry kind of way — except, he wasn’t the one who should be sorry. He opened his mouth to say something, then decided against it.

“M’ gonna go for a walk,” she mumbled, the chair grazing loudly across the floor as she forced herself to her feet.

Mickey again looked as though he might say something, but again, thought better of it. But Rose was just irritated enough to ask,

“What?”

“Just… don’t go looking for him, okay?” he tried. “Give the man some space.”

Rose grunted. “He can have all the bloody space he wants.”

And with that, she left the kitchen. She was exhausted to recognise her feet were, unsurprisingly, steering her towards the control room, and she could feel with every step how regretful she was about to be if she reached that room. So she pulled every last piece of willpower she had left to stop in her tracks and think.

Should she go and talk to him? She folded her arms and chewed the inside of her cheek in deliberation. She was torn, because she wanted so desperately to talk to him — her friend above all else after all — but he had so horribly hurt her today that she was in half a mind to storm out of this TARDIS for good. She tried, she really did, to feel for him, and she took a step out of her own mind for just one moment to consider he had just lost somebody close to him. Even if her heart was breaking, it was at that thought that they shattered completely.

This was ridiculous, she thought, as her feet once more began to take her to the control room. He quite clearly wanted space, and Mickey only confirmed so much with his Manly Suspicions — seeing you right now isn’t going to make him feel any better.

She grunted, and her steps had a little more purpose to them now. Because it was so horrible to be the last person he wanted to see. He had never, not in their entire time together, been one to regret her presence, to make her feel like she was unwanted even just in a moment of grief.

Calm down, she thought, as she knew she was nearing the control room. The only thing that would make this a thousand times worse is if you burst into the control room in righteous rage.

So, she deliberately slowed down her pace as she wondered just exactly which approach she was going to take. But she found that, the closer she got to the control room, the less control she had over her intentions. So her footing sped up once more, and her heart pounded in her chest as she reached the control room.

She was more than disorientated, then, when the last person she expected to see was now standing in the exact same place as he was when she left him.

“Wha—”

He looked up at her with a frown, a frown she hadn’t seen in oh so many months, and she felt her heart sink to see that daft old, gorgeous, face. For a moment, she forgot that this was completely impossible, being so used to it these days after all, and her breath caught in her throat to see that terribly dusty old leather jacket, those baggy black scruffy trousers that seemed far too big for him and those eyes, good god those eyes were so bloody beautiful that she almost cried there and then to see them once more.

Those eyes that were currently looking back at her in utter bewilderment.

She shook her head and herself back to her senses. The Doctor quickly looked at the door at the end of the ramp and distractedly pointed to it, looking back at her once more in disarray. “What you doin’ there?”

His familiar yet somehow unexpected Northern accent seemed most alerting to her, and sparked the return of her own puzzlement.

“What are you doin’ there?”

“I just— you were— you said—” he stuttered, looking back and forth between her and the door. He seemed to only look to her for an explanation, which baffled her, because she was hoping he would explain. The two stared at each other in complete perplexity for a minute at least, before Rose was first to break the silence.

“This a trick?”

He blinked. “What?”

“This. You, here. The TARDIS trickin’ me or somethin’?”

“Why on Earth would the TARDIS be tricking you?”

“I dunno,” she shrugged, folding her arms and resting her weight on one leg. “‘Cos you were a right knob today and maybe she thought I wouldn’t strangle you if you looked like that.”

He was surely stupefied by the force of her words. “Bloody hell, I saved your life today and that’s how you thank me?”

Her mouth hung agape at that, and she quickly scanned her memories today and confirmed, very quickly, that he had in fact not saved her life at any point today. Not even when he stumbled into her’s and Mickey’s capture, drunk, and toyed with the droids for a bit while they held a rather sharp blade to her throat before pouring whatever was left of his wine onto their heads; she was still too furious to consider that ‘saving her life’.

“Oh, please,” she scoffed incredulously, “Do tell me at what point today you so valiantly came to my aid.”

He echoed her scoff. “I said thank you—”

“You did not you little liar!”

“Bloody hell, you’re a lot snappier than you were five minutes ago!”

She shook her head. “I wasn’t even here five minutes ago—”

“Which reminds me, what are you doing here?”

Her eyes narrowed at him; quite clearly, they were going to go round in circles asking questions unless one of them tried to at least figure it out. She took a deep breath, and spoke aloud her thought process. “Right. So, obviously we’re not talking about the same thing, unless you experienced today completely differently to me — which actually might explain your behaviour—” she stopped when she felt her spine pricking with heat, and shook her head “— never mind. And unless the TARDIS is playing tricks on me, and you’re still, well, you, then we’re not — this isn’t—”

She sighed in frustration, still trying to understand the concept of time being relative — whatever that means. The Doctor seemed only to understand her, and he nodded slowly.

“I’m going to go out on a limb here and say I didn’t just offer you to come with me, did I?”

Her heart sank; of all the emotions she was feeling, of all the frustration at being in a situation unknown, of having her first reaction to a man she missed with everything she had being bewilderment over the absolute love she normally had to see his face, her only response was to breathe a very unsteady and deeply sorrowful,

“No.”

He nodded, again slowly. “But— and I’m losing my other leg to this one now— I’m assuming you, at one point, in fact, do end up coming with me?"

Her lips pulled tight as she fought back against saying or indicating anything that might trigger some sort of paradox at having run into a previous him and altering their future, and she sort of expected she might spontaneously vanish at any moment. Her lack of response must have affirmed his question, and his eyes grew wide.

“Crikey. Right then.”

“I should—“ she started, pointing behind her to the door but not really able to move there just yet “— I should probably, erm…”

He looked back at her for a moment, his brow still drawn in concern, before he gave her the smallest, yet still most warm smile that simply melted her.

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” he whispered.

The relief she felt swept over her in a blanket so comforting that her feet all too easily took her to him, and she blurted, “You have no idea how much I needed to hear you say that.”

He grinned the most terribly beautiful toofy grin, but she didn't process in enough time — or care too much to do anything about — the look of slight panic when she practically tumbled into his arms, into a hold so comforting that she let out a small sob. She felt the relief, her whole body lightening and untightening to feel him, less skinny and tall and against the ever so soft fabric of a jumper rather than an oxford. She wished she could have seemed a little less desperate as she clung to him while he awkwardly — but sincerely — held her in return, but just having him there, against everything she understood to be possible, was the only thing she could possibly need right now and she felt alleviated.

“I’m probably breaking about eight hundred laws here but I literally don’t care anymore,” she mumbled, only half-jokingly, into his jumper, “You left me on a spaceship three thousand years into the future so you can fix it.”

“Oi!” he snapped, and she was relieved to hear he wasn’t actually annoyed. “I haven’t done anythin’, remember?”

She nodded. “You’re right, he can fix it.”

The Doctor had always known how to read her, even if she sometimes thought he didn’t. Even after little more than a day of having known her, to this him here now, he recognised her belligerence and only seemed to find it bemusing.

“You’ve got a lot of faith in him then, if you can think he can fix anything.”

She sighed deeply into his jumper, against the sounds of his steady hearts beneath her ear that sounded different somehow, like they weren’t quite hers yet even if they were beating for her now.

“I really miss you.”

The truth in her voice sounded, even to her, so very pained. She wondered what he must be thinking, why this woman whom had only just turned him down now clung to him in the most ridiculous of ways, close to tears as she told him she missed him. But he didn’t ask questions, instead he only felt it, straight away, by the way his arms ever so slightly tightened around her to more resemble a hug she knew was only hers, and one only he could give her. But she could feel him awkward beneath her nonetheless, and ever so regretfully she pulled away, but not quite able to stop herself from reaching her palm to touch the side of his face as she took him in. All those hardened edges, that stubble and those lips and slightly wonky nose.

“Oh, we’re— okay, so there’s an awful lot of touching between us in the future,” he remarked.

She giggled, and drew her palm away to sit on the jumpseat, patting the spot next to her. “Well, yes, I think we can say that—” she frowned, and stopped herself “—wait, can I say that?”

She looked to him for confirmation, and he shrugged. “Tell you what, if you start to fade out of existence, I’ll let you know, as long as you do the same for me. Deal?”

She chuckled, and shook the hand he had held out to her. “Deal.”

He sat down next to her, pinching his trousers and shuffling about to settle in a little more comfortably. She was relieved to know she hadn’t forgotten a single thing about him, which meant that she knew he was feeling most blindsided by her spontaneous and unprecedented visit, displaying a lot more familiarity with him than he, at that moment, had with her. For whatever reason, and she thinks she knows what, he was, for the time being at least, comfortable with putting aside his own reservations about the implications this might have on time and space if it meant that she could find comfort herself.

She gave him a shy grin. “So I turned you down then, hmm?”

“Great,” he tutted. “Nice to know it was me you said no to, and not the flying-through-space bit.”

She nudged herself to the side to bump his shoulder and chuckled. “Well, I’m here now, so you must have done something right.”

“Oh, I don’t know. From the sounds of it, I haven’t done anything right today.”

It was a suggestion, an invitation to continue, if she wanted to.

The sinking of her heart at the reminder of her today was terrible. So terrible, in fact, that she couldn’t find her words, and only shook her head sadly in response. The soft sound of his leather jacket as his chest rose and fell to his sigh somehow made it all that much harder. When he started to awkwardly pick at the stray cotton string poking out at the knee of his trousers, she managed to find her smile.

“Mention the time bit,” she whispered, turning to look at him, and he looked back at her with his eyebrow ever so slightly raised. “That���s what does it for me, in the end.��

He chastised himself, “I didn’t— I didn’t mention the bloody time bit— well, no wonder you said no.”

“You completely messed up with that one,” she chuckled, closing her eyes to the deep and flat way he said ‘wonder’, and continued, “Actually, know what else you messed up with?”

“Wish I hadn’t bloody offered to stay and listen, now—”

“The regeneration thing,” she scoffed. “Didn’t want to mention that that happens at any point, no?”

“Regenerat— bloody hell, I’m being confronted by a lot of my future in one sitting.”

Her eyes widened at that, perhaps having gone too far, but he grinned.

“Na, it’s alright," he assured her in response. "Promise. I’m not so unused to running into myself in the future, I know how this works, don’t worry.”

Her lips curled into a bashful smile, knowing full well he almost certainly knew the consequences of learning of one’s own future and that, in next to no circumstances, was it a good thing. Still, he had this thing about him, this assurance that he would, somehow, make it okay, and she couldn’t deny his invitation.

“You— I mean— well,” she flustered, realising this was much more difficult that she would have thought. “He... yeah, no, you—”

“Say ‘he’,” he encouraged. “It’ll make it easier, promise.”

Again, with that word, with the softness in which he delivered it, she felt this unravelling as her shoulders loosened where she could just be her. She didn’t have to worry about sounding all clever, like she knew what she was talking about, and now she didn’t even need to worry about the implications of something she’s been told can never ever happen, because he was with her. She could barely keep herself together with it all, with how much she just missed him and wanted him back.

“It’s been a bit… it’s been quite hard. Between us, recently,” she admitted unevenly, but once she felt the relief that came with uncorking the ridiculously tight pressure throughout her whole body, she was powerless to stop herself from blurting out the rest. “You regenerated not too long ago and sometimes I think you’re still the same, and sometimes you— he —” she adjusted, it somehow feeling better to say ‘he’, now “— does things that are so… not you.”

There was a silence in the control room, besides the familiar hum which had of course not altered even within this nonsensical situation. It kept her quite steady, actually.

“He sounds a bit like a prat.”

“You’re not wrong, there.”

“Tell you what,” he began, squaring his shoulders. “Since I’m him and he’s me, why don’t you tell me what he did. I’ll see what I can help you with.”

She snorted. “Told me I was gonna — and I quote — ‘wither and die’, left me stranded on a spaceship three thousand years into the future, fell in love with some posh French woman and picked her over all of time and space, to name just the ones over the last twenty-four hours.”

The Doctor was quiet, and she just had to glance at his expression at that. He did indeed look overwhelmed, as she thought he might.

“That definitely doesn’t sound like me — you sure you weren't just fooled into thinking he was?”

She snickered, although he wasn’t too far off her true musings at this point. “I think when you invited Mickey along, I should have clocked on.”

He really did jolt back in shock, then. “Rickey? As in that sad old sap out there, Rickey?”

“Mmm.”

“The one shaking like a bloody leaf and clinging onto your leg like a wuss?”

“That’s the one.”

He shuddered, and it only made her giggle more. “My god, what do I become?”

“Now you see my problem.”

“Alright, well, I can’t excuse the wither and die bit—” he paused, thinking “— nor the spaceship bit, I suppose. Or even the falling in love bit—”

“Fat lot of good, you are, then.”

“Oi! —” he poked her ribs “— You’re a lot less polite than I remember you being.”

Her smile was so wide that it ached; being here with him and laughing like before, before all the regenerations and the Sarah-Janes and the aristocratic French mistresses was a blissful healing of a wound she had long since thought had sealed up.

“I’m going to need some context over the wither and die bit,” he spoke quietly, a little jest still to his voice.

She frowned, honestly quite against the idea of reliving that conversation last night, and especially not when it was one with another, less recognisable, face than with the one next to her. “I dunno. I guess… I know what you—”

“He.”

She giggled, relieved, and he nudged her knee with his. “I know what he was trying to say, that his lifespan is a heck of a lot longer than mine, and it’s not as if it’s fun to watch us ‘wither and die’, as he so eloquently put it, but it still hurt. Almost like—” she scrunched her nose, thinking of what it was she wanted to say before she heard his calm and patient breathing, his breath and remembered who she was talking to “—like it’s so distasteful for him, that we grow old and all mangly and he just has to sit there and watch it and hope it gets over and done with quickly so he can move on.”

The Doctor was still beside her, his arms folded and leant back while she spoke. He seemed to be mulling something over, and when she looked up at him and saw his profile, his terribly large nose and sharp jaw, she all but melted into his side, tugging on his arm so that she could lean against him.

“He made me feel so bad for being human, and it’s the first time I’ve ever felt like that.”

He was trying to keep himself still beside her, and she knew he most probably felt a little uncomfortable at their proximity, but the fact that he was keeping so still for her reminded her just how much he cared for her in the first place — right from day one.

“Christ, give him a slap for me when you see him again will you?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

She thought about the two of them, if they could meet tonight, and only loved the idea of this him squaring up on the new one for daring to hurt a woman he had known less than forty-eight hours. And she grinned to know that he would, as well, because she knew just how important she had been to him right from the start. He didn’t need to say it, and she felt it even now with a new face, that she was still the most important person to him.

Well, up until today, she had.

“Alright, so you say the spaceship thing—“

“Yep,” she affirmed, punctuating the ‘p’ with an indignant pop. “Rode on a horse through a time window, severed all links with the ship and the future.”

“And you say Rickey was with you?”

“Yeah! Left us both behind.”

He thought for a moment. “How’d you know he didn’t think you were on the back of the horse and he was only trying to leave Rickey behind” — she couldn’t help but laugh at his old dry humour that he carried off so effortlessly, something else she only now realised she missed —“cos I can tell you that seems the only reasonable explanation to that one.”

“God will you stop,” she insisted through her giggles, “Rick—Mickey is not that bad!”

“And on that,” he continued, seemingly unwilling to stop despite her persistent chuckles, “I really cannot explain his decisions behind asking Mickey to join us, you’ll have to ask him yourself, sorry.”

He had such a wonderfully deadpan humour, this one, and for a bloke that wasn’t actually from the North, he certainly could have fooled her. To some, he came off as cold and unaffectionate, but to her, he was hers; she knew his humour so well and had grown so fond of him and the ways in which he made her laugh, knowing that he was doing it deliberately as often as he could only to make her giggle more.

“Alright, and what was that last one?” he asked after a moment. “Something about some French woman?”

Ah, yes. That.

Perhaps he knew exactly what by the way she flinched at his words, because he didn’t follow it up with anything at first. He chose his words well, it would seem, when he prompted,

“Something absurd about choosing her over all of time and space, if I remember you right.”

She fiddled with cuticles around her nails, only realising now how hard it was to talk about — or even think about.

“Something like that.”

And with her sigh, she released her hold on him, withdrawing back into herself at the way everything about her seemed to clench in pain. He wasn’t too unused to it all, then, when she felt his hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. She smiled softly at the gesture that did indeed loosen her a little, but he seemed to notice that it hadn’t entirely when he tapped her shoulder to bring her to lean back against him.

“Well, I will admit this new bloke seems like an absolute git, but I know I can speak for him when I say he doesn’t fall in love very easily at all.”

She swallowed, her throat so painfully tight. “Yeah, m’ starting to think the same.”

He was quiet, and she was really fighting against herself to not fall completely back in love with a man she knew was gone forever. She did love him though, this him, and she missed him so much that the pressure inside her only seemed to worsen until, finally, he spoke quietly,

“Who was she, did you say?”

She didn’t want to respond immediately, though the name rested just at the tip of her tongue, echoing around her mind as it had been all day. So she took a moment's pause before she replied, “Someone called Madame de Pompadour?”

“Ah, yes,” he recalled. “Eighteenth century? Uncrowned queen of France?”

Rose sighed heavily, before nodding her head.

“Sounds average,” he dismissed. “Meet one of them every day, I do. Don’t think it’s quite like either of us to fall in love with somebody so ordinary.”

She had to remind herself, as she had done so many times over the last twenty-four hours, that she was indeed only that: ordinary. Nobody different, nothing that made her stand out from the likes of Sarah Jane or bloody uncrowned queens of France and certainly not one the Doctor, the last remaining lord of time, would so easily fall in love with.

“Anyway,” he cleared his throat, a welcome disruption to her morose thoughts. “I should probably, er, go and find, well, you— time, was it, you said? That’s what’ll do the trick?”

She sniffed, reluctant to let him go, but she did loosen her hold to allow him free. “Time,” she affirmed.

As he stood, and she too, it all felt far too formulaic for them, even if he had only just met her very recently. She couldn’t bear to let him go like this, to remember this meeting so sad, so she looked at him sheepishly with her arms hesitantly outstretched and said,

“Can I?”

He seemed to know exactly what she was asking when he pulled her in for a hug. It took them a moment of adjustment to settle; she being so used to his new more slender form, and he not being used to her at all. But when they did, when everything finally slotted into place and they were them once more, she exhaled and felt all that pain and anguish just… release. He didn’t take it from her, and she didn’t know where it went, but being here in his arms when she had thought she never could have been again felt like the most blissful recompense following such wretched and unjust anguish.

“I miss you,” she whimpered, holding on to him tighter.

“Rose?”

The sound of her name on his lips was a comfort in itself. “Mmm?”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yeah?”

“That bloke of yours,” he paused, and she realised it was for dramatic effect when he whispered, “he’s actually me.”

She giggled despite herself. “After everything I’ve told you about him, you still want to assign your name to him?”

“He does sound a bit like a prat, I’ll admit, but he must have done some good things, too, surely?” She shook her head begrudgingly into his chest. “You wouldn’t still be here if he hadn’t.”

She smiled sadly, and reasoned, “I suppose he did regenerate for me.”

“Blimey,” he flustered, genuinely quite surprised by the sounds of it. “I’ve regenerated many times before, and for many different reasons, but I can tell you never for somebody else.”

She smiled; although she had never really known exactly what happened on satellite 5, she had only managed to learn from him that it was to save her life. He didn’t particularly like to talk about it, she gathered, not because he regretted doing so, but in a way she couldn’t quite decipher. Like he was afraid, almost — although of what, she wasn’t sure.

“You, Rose Tyler, must be quite extraordinary indeed.”

She held on to him only tighter as she felt his words find their home deep within her heart, in a way she knew they would never be able to be coaxed out of again by not even herself. And she knew the man she thought she was going to see tonight felt the same, really, if she was honest with herself. She realised, then, that she wouldn’t have been able to hear if he had said it in that estuary accent; it was specifically him saying it in this northern accent tonight that rang deep and true for both men.

And with that, she felt the imminent dread of knowing she needed to leave.

“I probably need to go tell him I’ve made some paradox, then,” she sighed jokingly, although a part of her wished she wasn’t. If she could only have this, this sweet memory of the two of them at a time where she needed to be reminded that it would always be just the two of them, then pulling away from him now might be less tortuous.

“No need,” he said, and then he tilted his head and whispered, “Looks like he’s already fixed it for you.”

She frowned, but even as she tried to process how he — the other him — could have possibly already done anything to fix this, her mistake, her desperate need to see her old friend and deepest love of her life just one last time in a time of such heartbreak, her heart swelled to know that of course he had.

“No paradox?” she whispered back, afraid anybody other than him might hear her.

He nodded, and she felt him kiss her hair. “No paradox, if he’s done it right. Now go, quick, before we find out if he hasn’t.”

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Hello, first of all: thank you for the amazing fics!! If you have time here's an idea for a prompt: Sirius has suffered through rape or a sexual assault in the past and has now, like, problems with doing anything sexual and he's afraid, that James won't want him if he was to find out and tries to meet James's needs. Maybe he panics or something it's up to you. And James is really cute and protective about it.

((A/N: Warning for discussions of sexual assault as discussion of assault by a family member and asexuality from trauma is pretty much all this fic is. If that's a topic that could bother you, you might need to skip this one <3 ))

In Sirius's defense, he'd thought that since he loved James so much, that when the time came, he'd be ready; he'd thought that he'd want it.

But it didn't really work out that way. Instead, he ended up panicking and shoving James away. And then he just stared at him with wide eyes, heart in his throat and feeling like he was going to throw up. Then he ran for the loo and locked himself in because he needed space to breathe, but he didn't want to leave James's flat entirely and couldn't very well hide in James's room-- that would've been worse than staying where he'd been on the couch. If he threw up, at least he was in the right place.

He felt like utter rubbish. It was partially a shock to him, but simultaneously not a surprise at all. Ever since his aunt had assaulted him at a family holiday party, he hadn't even been able to wank, let alone hook up with someone else. But, as he said, he'd thought that since he loved James so bloody much, it wouldn't be a problem. James, for one, was nothing like his aunt. For another, him and James had been dating for months. Kissing James was plenty of fun, but every time it started to lead somewhere, Sirius felt nauseous. After it not getting better with time, he'd guessed that the best thing to do was go ahead, and then he'd like it afterwards. He'd been... very wrong about that. Ridiculously wrong. If the situation wasn't buggering up his head so much, it would be funny how wrong he'd been.

A soft knock came on the door. "Sirius? Are you okay?"

He blew out a breath. How the hell was he going to explain this? James had invited him over, and he'd said yes, knowing full well what James had in mind when he offered-- mostly because James had told him straight out.

"Did I hurt you?" James continued when a long moment of silence passed.

The idea of James hurting him was laughable. Sirius had been totally panicked, but it hadn't been fear of James that caused it. He knew that he should say something, but he couldn't think of what to say. That it was ridiculous for James to be worried? It wouldn't be fair to say that when Sirius was the one who had run out.

"Erm, can you at least tell me if you're alive?"

A laugh startled out of him. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm alive."

"Okay, that's good. I erm, I'm sorry."

"What the hell are you sorry for?"

"Thinking we were on the same page when we weren't. I swear, I would never force you into anything. If you're not ready, then you're not ready. We can wait as long as you need."

And there was the problem. Sirius knew himself well enough to know that if he wasn't ready now, then he never would be. He'd been studiously ignoring that fact in an effort to give James the traditional relationship he surely wanted, and look how that had turned out.

"If you want to leave, I'll understand. We can talk tomorrow. Or in a couple days, if you need space. Really, Sirius, it's whatever you want."

"No, I don't- I mean-" Sirius stopped with a frustrated sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. He didn't remember sitting on the toilet lid, but he got up and unlocked the door and opened it, then leaned against the counter. "I don't think I'm ever going to want sex, is the problem."

James's expression was expectedly kind. Expected, because James was always kind to him. "It's not really a problem, but I wish you would've told me. I didn't mean to pressure you."

"I thought I could get past it, you know? But ever since- well, I've had sex before and liked it, so I thought that since I love you, I'd be able to do it. You weren't pressuring me, and I'm sorry if I led you on." Sirius made a face. "Well, I did lead you on, but it was sort of an accident. I was supposed to be able to follow through."

"No, it's- gods, don't apologise. But you could have mentioned this when I first brought up sex, and then we could've taken things a bit slower. That way, even if the end result would be the same, you wouldn't have felt so trapped. Bugger, that sounds like I'm accusing you, doesn't it? Sorry, I didn't mean it that way."

Sirius shook his head before James could continue apologising. "I was worried that you wouldn't want to date me anymore if I told you. Which isn't the best way to start a relationship, I'm aware."

"It's fine." It looked like James was going to say something else, then he paused and hitched a thumb over his shoulder. "D'you want to continue this conversation in the living room?" He quirked a smile. "I promise to keep my hands to myself."

Sirius smiled back weakly. "Sure." If only because this room was a little cold. Plus he felt silly, standing in his boyfriend's toilet after having run away from him.

"So I'm not trying to force a label on you or summat, but are you asexual?"

Sirius squinted at him, doing mental gymnastics to try and figure out what that was supposed to mean. "Isn't that a thing bugs do?" he asked slowly.

James blinked, then grinned. He wasn't mocking Sirius-- to date, he never had-- but he was charmingly amused, like he always was when Sirius didn't know something; James claimed it was because he rarely knew something that Sirius didn't, and that actually seemed likely, considering the sort of person that James was. "That's asexual reproduction, where they don't have to mate to have offspring. I meant asexual as, like, a queer orientation."

"Oh." That made sense, but he also hadn't thought about it before. "I dunno. I just haven't wanted to since..."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Sirius looked down and fiddled with the hem of his shirt. "My father sent me to a therapist after it happened. He said it was pretty common for a family member to be the one responsible in underage cases." He shifted his weight uncomfortably. He'd never told anyone before. "Can I hug you?" he mumbled.

"Yeah, of course," James said, holding his arms open.

Sirius dove right in without a second thought. "Thanks," he said automatically.

"Anytime." James rubbed his hand in a soothing circular motion against the middle of Sirius's back. It helped keep his heart from feeling like it was going to beat out of his chest.

He'd never told anyone before because he'd never had to. James was his first boyfriend since then, so it's not as if anyone else he went on dates with had warranted the conversation. Plus, his only friend at the time had been Lily. No one in the family had had to be told, obviously, and Regulus had filled Lily in so that Sirius wouldn't have to; she had never brought it up, except to ask if he was feeling okay every once in a while. "I'm sorry," Sirius muttered. "I thought that I'd be past it by now."

"I hope I'm not overstepping," James said softly, "but have you considered that it's not something you're going to get over? Sometimes things change you. Permanently. Nothing wrong with that."

Unbidden, tears sprung up in his eyes. No one had told him that it was okay for him to be different. Neither Lily nor Regulus had really known what to say to make him feel better. Father had just about killed his sister. Mother liked to pretend that it hadn't happened. The therapist had done his best, but Sirius hadn't really wanted to work with him. He'd gotten Sirius to be comfortable enough going back to school every day, and then Sirius had told his parents that he was better. It was only now, years later, that James told him he was fine for being different than before; Sirius had always wanted to get back to normal.

Sirius sniffled a little, trying to make sure he didn't get any snot on James's shirt. "Thanks. I just- I wanted to be perfect for you."

"Would I sound horribly corny if I said you're already perfect?"

Sirius laughed, wiping at his eyes. "A bit."

"Well. It's the truth."

He laughed again, giving James a grateful squeeze before letting go.

"You want to watch a movie? Or would you rather go home?" James asked.

"A movie sounds good, if you don't mind." In fact, a movie sounded great. There was nothing Sirius wanted more than to cuddle up with James and eat chocolates for the rest of the night.

James smiled at him, like he was delighted that this was the turn their evening had taken. There wasn't a trace of disappointment to be found in his expression, even though Sirius thought it might be warranted. James looked at him like he was always happy to see him, no matter the circumstances. It was hard to believe that Sirius had been so worried about how he'd react.

He was still feeling the lingering effects of his earlier panic, but now he was left feeling the way he always did after he overreacted. In his defense, this was less of an overreaction and more of a miscalculation. He'd assumed that it would always be something he could get past, and what better time to make a recovery than when he was in a loving, wonderful relationship? But he'd been wrong about 'getting back to normal', and he'd definitely been wrong about trying to force his way past it.

[mybrothershands]

MBH/Dumpling 2

second installment, same art because otherwise you'll be waiting on it all day tomorrow. Characters by myself and @diddlesanddoodles and editing by @thundering-susurrus

The giant pinched up his face as if he smelled something bad. He then prodded the lump in his chest-pocket. "Get up, you lazy fool."

Several emotions crossed Yale face all at once, from anger to confusion to relief. Now that he knew where to look, Yale could see a distinctive lump in the man’s front pocket and heard the smaller voice emanating from within. Well, if he had a human companion of his own, that was a welcome relief. But he still kept his hand on Nenani. Grinning, he jerked his head to indicate the lump on Ka's shirt. “Ah, well I suppose that answers that. He yer assistant then?”

"Parasite, more like," he said, fishing around in his pocket until he caught the man by the shirt and pulled his shoulders over the lip of the pocket.

"Why you little two-ton son of a hog-bellied cob, I ought to--" The human smacked the hand away.

A nervous laugh escaped the giant, and he clasped his hand over the smaller man's mouth. "Er, this is my brother. He took care of me when I was small," said Ka.

Yale had been watching Ka fish around in his pocket and smirked at the human’s grouchy reply. The human’s snark immediately reminded him of Farris, but upon hearing Ka call him his brother, Yale gave pause. His curiosity was piqued.

“Wha –? Really? Can’t say I’ve ever heard ‘a that. That must be one hell of a story,” he said and jerked his head towards Ka. “Ye must’ve had a time of it keepin’ ‘im fed and clothed proper.”

The giant paused, then seemed to draw back within himself and looked away. Cairo, however, had no such loss for words. "Got that right. Ungrateful, too. You should see the spot in my side where he--" The massive hand clamped over his mouth again.

"I, erm," Ka cleared his throat, worry painted on his face. "I was old enough to work when he took me in. I cleared land for a human farmer in exchange for food. Cairo paid for my clothes and gave me a place to stay."

Polly then decided to use his leg as a scratching post and began rubbing her face up and down the side of his pants, leaning into him. "Woah, hey!" Ka said as he was knocked off balance. Once he found his feet, he pulled her bridle back over her ear and straightened her forelock. "But yes, I'm," he waved his hand in a circle, "I can work with humans just fine. They just need to let me know they're there and keep away from my feet."

“Ah, well no worries there,” Yale said with a light laugh as he pulled his apron aside to reveal Nenani at his hip. “You know better than to be underfoot, ain’t that right Dumplin’?”

Nenani nodded while she observed the new giant and silently marveled at his height. Despite the way in which he towered over them, he had a kind face, and she was not afraid.

“Farris doesn’t like it if I’m on the floor,” she explained. “He doesn’t trust the footmen to keep a look out.”

Ka's expression softened. She was a little thing, even for her kind, with auburn hair that shone in the sunlight. Somehow she met his gaze without fear, and it gave him pause. "H-hello there," he said quietly. "I am Ka. It's nice to meet you, miss."

It took the giant a moment to realize that the young man must have been hiding her, and why he had questioned him so. Come to think of it, he had not seen a single small person, nor chest pocket since he had entered this town. Pieces began to fall into place, and he decided he should not stay here for long. Not with Cairo. Absently, his hand found its way to his pocket.

“Hi. I’m Nenani,” she replied back, trying to look friendly. He looked so nervous, she thought. Yale easily scooped her up and sat her on his leg. After getting comfortable, she gestured up at the cook and said, “And he didn’t say so, but this is Yale.”

Looking confused, Yale looked down at her. “I didn’t introduce myself at all did I?”

“Nope,” she replied. “That was very rude. Lolly would swat you.”

“Ah, well,” he said, giving Ka and Cairo an apologetic shrug. “She wouldn’t be too pleased with me bringin’ the lil’un on this errand either. So there’s that.”

Cairo grumbled as Ka fawned over this little girl. She seemed unafraid and even kind towards his brother, which he respected. Still, he regarded Yale with a critical eye. Hooking his elbow over the frayed lip of the pocket, the human raised his voice. "What kind of kitchen is this anyway, boy? It's a bit late in the day to be fetchin stuff. What are you doing out here now?"

“Best kitchen in Vhasshal,” Yale fired back with a smug grin. He pointed over his shoulder towards the castle behind them. “That being the royal kitchen.”

“But Gjerk didn’t clean the chimney and it ruined the luncheon roasts,” Nenani supplied with a frankness that made light of the true disaster. “Almost caught the whole kitchen on fire.”

Yale frowned and, blushing just a bit, agreed with a muted nod. “Aye. Well, even the best kitchen in Vhasshal can fall victim to inattentive tenderfoots. So we’re needin’ to shuffle things ‘round a bit. Headin’ to a merchant who raises and sells field rocs.”

Ka's face became a smiling mask with a blank stare. Royal kitchen? Was this boy not worried that some stranger picked off the street could poison someone Important? Even the king himself? What if something went wrong and he was blamed for it and put in prison? Even he himself was not sure he deserved such trust, and yet kept his mouth shut in hopes that there was something he did not know.

Cairo, meanwhile, looked the man up and down, and then the girl in turn. They seemed easygoing and honest, if not a bit frank. At last he nodded. "We will accept your offer."

The giant balked. "Cairo, I'm not sure--"

"Shut up," he said, waving a hand. "Your belly's been a'growling all day, and I'll have no more of it. This is an easy job, and you're gonna take it," Cairo barked.

Ka paused, a hint of frustration on his face. Still, this was Cairo. The giant seemed to let go of his worries and nodded. "Just tell me what to do," he said, fixing Yale in his gaze, "and I'll help as much as I can."

He seemed eager enough, Yale thought. And even if his kitchen skills were minimal, so long as he could hold a knife, he could find something for him to do. Ka’s human companion was clearly the more dominant of the two, which Yale found to be quite amusing. And even a bit refreshing. He was so used to humans reacting to him with fear or at the very least nervous suspicion. Not that they did not have a valid reason of course.

He decided he liked Cairo.

“Well, first we gotta go collect them rocs and scurry on back,” Yale said with a grin. “So if we just wanna follow along we’ll go get that done and we can get ye to work.” He paused as he considered Ka. “And get ye somethin’ t’eat. Farris might gripe at me fer it, but believe me. He’s gonna be thankful fer yer help. Even he don’t show it. Or say it. Or yells at ye.”

Yale flicked the reins to usher Polly forward, bringing a hand up to hold onto Nenani when she almost fell off his lap.

“Ah!”

“Oh, sorry there, Dumplin’.”

"Oh," said Ka as he backed away and let the animal slip past until he could walk beside the cab. This Farris fellow seemed a bit crotchety. "Thank you," he said above the creaking wheels. The mention of food set his mouth to watering. They had had so many good things down at the market, maybe now he could get his hands on something. "I can pay you, but I'm afraid my coin may just be trinkets to you."

From his pocket, Cairo squinted one eye, adjusting his position to better watch the small giant. "Why you call her 'dumpling,' anyhow?"

“It was a joke,” Nenani explained with a flat look. “Wasn’t a very funny one.”

“I dunno, I thought it was a pretty good one,” Yale replied with a knowing grin. He poked her belly and the girl squealed and laughed, batting at his fingers. She lost her balance and almost fell back off his lap, but Yale was quick enough to catch her and place her safely down on the bench beside him. He ruffled her hair into a bushy mess. “Anyway, I caught this one here after she’d nicked some fruit. And right in the middle of the King’s weddin’ feast too. Don’t think I’ve ever been that stressed in my life.”

“He threatened to eat me...” Nenani said with the same flat expression.

As lovely as he found the girl's laugh, Ka's smile quickly faded as the girl voiced the joke. He made a sound half way between a choke and a quack. "Hmm?"

Cairo looked more surprised at the noise his brother made than Nenani's admittance. "Oh he did, did he?" He sat up, eyeing Yale. "He looks like a pansy to me."

Yale could not help the smirk of satisfaction at seeing the way Ka reacted. But his focus drew to the man’s pocket and the human within. Leaning towards them and planting his hand on the other side of where Nenani sat, he grinned at the human man.

“Big words fer a fella who travels by pocket,” he challenged. “Why not come on outta there and I’ll show ye how much of a pansy I am.”

Nenani glared up at Yale and grabbed onto his sleeve and gave it a firm tug. “No fighting.”

Cairo merely laughed at the girl's reaction. "I ain't stupid. Think I'll stay in the pocket, eh?" He slapped Ka's chest.

The giant rolled his eyes. He kept pace with the cart fairly easily, even as the Svaldifari trotted. He cleared his throat. "Keep acting like that and I may just let him have you."

"What!" he exclaimed, clutching a hand over his heart. "He might skin me, don't you think? You brute, you should protect your poor old brother."

Ka sighed, plodding along. "You can take care of yourself just fine."

“Smart man, your brother,” Yale said to Ka. “With him taggin’ along, ye might just survive a day in Farris’s kitchen.”

There was something very comforting about watching Cairo and Ka banter. It was all too easy for Yale to be drawn back to the horrible memories of the war and the way it seemed to him at the time that the bloodletting would never cease. Yet before him was a man who openly and easily called a human his brother.

“As fer skinnin’: nah. Too much of a hassle. Much easier to just toss ye into the stew and pop the lid on.”

Beside him, Nenani rolled her eyes. She had become nearly desensitized to all staff’s banter about eating and cooking people. Cairo didn’t seem like the sort to take Yale seriously. But Ka, she observed, seemed to not care for the jokes at all.

Ka lolled his head back, exasperated, then clamped his hand back over Cairo's mouth. "Ne- Nena-nani, er..." he chewed on his tongue for a moment, still trying to decide how many syllables the girl's name had. "Nenani," he said decisively. "He... Yale. He said he found you stealing?" said the giant, desperate to change the subject.

There were a few shoves and knocks on his hand before there at last came a double-tap and Cairo's mouth was freed. However, he kept his mouth shut for once and watched the road ahead. The mare seemed to need a bit of guiding, unused to going this way, but Yale was not quite paying attention. He peered ahead. Was this the way they had come before? Where was the market?

“Oh. Yeah,” she replied as she fiddled with the hem of her skirt in slight embarrassment. “But it’s not like what Farris and they all thought at first. I’m not from the Hill Tribe, I’m from the Southlands. They were loading a bunch of carts near the docks and I tried to sneak in and grab a persimmon before anyone noticed, but the basket was really big and I just...kind of fell in. And got stuck.”

Yale stifled a snicker as he corrected Polly’s path. She whinnied at him in annoyance. “I remember all them peels, lil’un. It was certainly more than one.”

“I was in there for three days,” she said and stuck her tongue out at Yale. “What else was I gonna eat? The basket?” When Yale only shrugged at her, she continued. “I grew up being told stories about Vhasshal and I was really scared. So as soon as the caravan stopped, I tried to run.”

“Caught her tryin’ to make a run fer it,” Yale added lightly pinching her arm. “Didn’t get all that far. Like...a half a dozen yards maybe before I got ‘er.”

Ka frowned. He did not like the way that last bit sounded. He steered away as they passed another cart on the road. He wanted to ask the stories about Vhasshal, and why she had been so frightened, but the girl had not seemed a bit embarrassed about that point in her past. Come to think of it, maybe he did not want to know. "Persimmons... have peels?"

The edge of the village was approaching, and Yale could hear the sound of the rocs long before their pens came into view. Their destination was a handsome little cottage just at the end of the tight clusters of row homes. Though was an older building and had but a thatched roof, it was well maintained and clean. Behind it were the roc pens. There were a dozen or so of the birds loose in the larger space, and Yale felt relieved. He was only going to need ten for the luncheon service, and he’d be able to get a few extra just in case anything else went horribly wrong today.

“Well, I think they’re actually husks,” she was saying. “They’re from overseas somewhere. But you’re not supposed to eat the outsides because it’ll make you sick.”

“Ye did get sick though. Just not from eatin’ fruit,” Yale pointed out. His eyes trailed after the other cart as they passed, having seen the way they had been gawking at Ka. Poor guy must get that a lot.

“Yeah, I had the red reap,” Nenani said. “It was terrible. But Farris took care of me and gave me medicine and watched me all night while I had the fever.”

Ka blinked, trying to make sense of this new information. He had no idea what red reap was, but then again, he was not familiar with most diseases. "It sounds terrible," he said, worry on his brow. The way she had explained it, it sounded deadly. He could not imagine having to care for someone through the night, not knowing if the little thing would make it.

Though he had not yet met the man, Ka found himself reconsidering this Farris guy. If he was the type to yell at someone new, it seemed a bit backwards that he would worry over a thief. He shook the thought away. He had not met him yet. Maybe he would understand later.

It was then he heard some bird-like squabbling, and looked up to find a pen with some frighteningly large feathery beasts. "What... are those?" He felt a bit stupid for asking, but then again, nothing was familiar to him here. Nothing at all.

"What, you never seen a chicken before?" Cairo butted in.

“Oh them ain’t no chickens,” Yale answered, giving Cairo an amused sideways glance. “Those are common field rocs. Those beauties eat chickens fer breakfast. Literally. They’re birds of prey. And they’re what we’re here fer.”

Yale maneuvered the cart towards the pens and when they were close enough, he pulled the reins lightly and Polly came to a gentle halt. She turned to her head back at Yale, expectation in her eyes. With a chuckle, he reached into his apron pocket and pulled out a pressed oat cake. Turning to Ka, he held out the treat. “Wanna give Polly her reward while I go spend the king's money?”

A grin spread across Ka’s face, and he chuckled. "Seems she's in good hands," he said, gently taking the biscuit from him.

~~~

Twelve common field rocs were in the back of the cart, their wings tied down to their sides and hemp sacks placed over their heads to keep them docile. Nenani hung off the back of the driver’s bench, looking down at the immobilized birds. They were as large as cows, and it was a little daunting to think that there were birds that big in the world.

The trip back was fairly uneventful, except that news of Ka seemed to have made its way around the village, They seemed to be getting more stares than before, but Yale made a point of staring down whatever gawkers he noticed. But he did not have the same presence as Farris did, and mostly, the people just kept on staring.

Nenani found it to be pretty rude, and to several she stuck out her tongue.

As they approached the back gate that led to the kitchen courtyard, the guards stationed there did double takes as Ka came into view, but Yale was quick to head off any questions. “He’s here to help out for the day. If you have a problem with that, take it up with Farris.”

There was enough of a threat in those words that they were allowed to pass without any form of harassment.

“Don’t let those guards make ye nervous none, lad,” Yale said to Ka. “Most of ‘em are real decent fellas.”

Yale was still looking towards Ka as he directed Polly along the road, around the last bend, and into the courtyard. He pulled the reins and was about to say something else when felt a tug on his sleeve and he looked down at Nenani. “Hm? What’s it?”

Nenani merely pointed further ahead of them and Yale’s gaze followed along. A large fire pit had been lit in the middle of the yard, and the largest of their cooking pans was placed over the top, with a sizable pile of pumpkins next to it. Saen and Avery were in the middle of carving a few up but had made little headway.

But what had caught their eye was none of them, but the solitary figure just a short distance away. Standing with his arms akimbo and looking very displeased was Farris. His green eyes narrowed at Yale.

“Yer fuckin’ late.”

Ever since the border guards, Ka had gotten increasingly fidgety. As soon as Yale quieted down, he slowed up and walked behind the cart. The castle ahead was bigger than any he had seen, especially this close up. He ran his hand up and down his sleeve, trying to create some warmth as his breath crystallized before him. Upon hearing the voice, the giant's first impression was how gravelly and frayed it sounded, possibly from overuse. The second was that it did not sound happy.

"What's it to you?" Cairo muttered under his breath. It was more of a knee-jerk reaction, than anything, but it was enough to remind Ka to keep an eye on him. The human's left arm and legs lolled out of the pocket. He picked at his teeth as the giant walked. "Move over, Ka, I want to get a look at this meathead."

Ka merely shook his head, hand straying up to cover the man. "Be careful here. We don't know for sure if it's safe yet." There came a grumbling and a shove at the fingers, but for the most part he kept his mouth shut.

Before Yale could even begin to explain himself, Farris caught sight of Ka, and the kitchen master’s eyes widened as his gaze traveled up and up and up until he met the taller giant’s eye. “And just who in the Seven Hells are ye?”

Ever since the border guards, Ka had gotten increasingly fidgety. As soon as Yale quieted down, he slowed up and walked behind the cart. The castle ahead was bigger than any he had seen, especially this close up. He ran his hand up and down his sleeve, trying to create some warmth as his breath crystallized before him. Upon hearing the voice, the giant's first impression was how gravelly and frayed it sounded, possibly from overuse. The second was that it did not sound happy.

"What's it to you?" Cairo muttered under his breath. It was more of a knee-jerk reaction, than anything, but it was enough to remind Ka to keep an eye on him. The human's left arm and legs lolled out of the pocket. He picked at his teeth as the giant walked. "Move over, Ka, I want to get a look at this meathead."

Ka merely shook his head, hand straying up to cover the man. "Be careful here. We don't know for sure if it's safe yet." There came a grumbling and a shove at the fingers, but for the most part he kept his mouth shut.

Before Yale could even begin to explain himself, Farris caught sight of Ka, and the kitchen master’s eyes widened as his gaze traveled up and up and up until he met the taller giant’s eye. “And just who in the Seven Hells are ye?”

Before Ka could answer, though, Yale jumped in. “Came across him on the way to get the rocs. He was lookin’ fer some work, and I offered to let him help us today.”

All through Yale’s explanations, Farris sized Ka up with a critical eye, pausing at the distinct bulge in the tall man’s pocket. His eyes narrowed suspiciously before turning their vitriol onto his assistant. 

“Oh ye did, did ye?” he demanded. “Are ye fuckin’ daft boy?”

Yale hopped down off the cart. “We need the extra help, and as mad as ye are, ye can’t deny the big fella could be of some help. Hell, he’d make short work breakin’ down the pumpkins.” Yale leaned around Farris to yell past him towards his fellow cooks. “A whole lot faster than them two knobheads!”

Saen and Avery looked up from their work to glare back at Yale. Avery waved his knife in the air, calling back, “Go fuck yerself, Yale.” 

Yale was still grinning when Farris drew his attention back with a growl. “And ye think I’d let just anyone off the street come in and cook in my kitchen, do ye?”

Yale glanced over his shoulder at Ka and then back to Farris. With a shrug, he said, “Honestly boss, I don’t think he’d fit. Be a bit tight.”

Farris’s ever-present glare faltered as an amused smirk crossed his lips. With a grunt he looked back at Ka. “Ye have any experience in a kitchen there, son?”

The giant clutched his fists against his chest, shoulders hunched and brow scrunched with worry. Though the man was half his height, he scared Ka. He looked like someone who knew how to fight and just might if aggravated.

"Y-yessir, just a bit, sir." Ka stuttered, coming out from behind the wagon. "Look, I promise I mean no harm, sir. I just, well I- I- I was looking for some work is all. He was nice enough to give me a chance. I promise I'll do my best if you'll only let me help."

Farris was silent for several moments, eyeing Ka once more. “Where ye from?”

The giant straightened up a bit, a slight hope welling in his chest. "Benhyke, sir. I'm... trying to find my way back there, actually."

“Never heard of it. So ye mean to tell me yer as tall as a fuckin’ house with no proper sense of direction?” The kitchen master didn’t give Ka a chance to answer before walking over to the cart where Nenani sat. He laid his arm across the drivers bench and looked at the girl. “What say ye Dumplin’? Think he’s some sort of secret assassin tryin’ to worm his way into the castle?”

Nenani blinked and shook her head. “No.” 

“Well, if yer so sure,” he said with a small smile and scooped her up. Tucking her into the crook of his arm, he turned back to Ka.  The warmth he had spoken to Nenani with was gone and the harsher tone returned. “Ye got a name?”

He scratched his head, still harboring the initial insult in his mind, and had not quite heard him speak to the girl. "What? O-oh I am Ka. And this is--" he paused. At first caution took over, but once he saw the way he cared for Nenani, the fear melted. "--Cairo," he finished.

Upon hearing his name, a single hand came out of the pocket and gave a dramatic wave. "Evening to you, you motherless goat," he called, then the hand disappeared again.

Farris’s expression darkened and, behind him, Yale was making a frantic motion with his hands at Ka that translated roughly to “Bad idea. Stop.”

“I’ll give ye fair warning now, boy,” Farris warned as he walked towards Ka. Pressing further into his space, he stared up at the taller giant and pointed towards his pocket. “Keep that one’s mouth under control or I’ll be doin’ it fer ‘im. I’ve had plenty of humans toss out insults at me and, one way or another, they learn not to. If ye wanna work, I’ve got work fer ye. And you’ll be paid fair wages fer it. But if that one skulking in yer pocket don’t watch it, he’s gonna become intimately acquainted with the inside of a roasting pan.”

Ka's face paled and he backed away, clutching one hand to his pocket. "No! No, please, he's my brother. Y-you can't--I won't..." He seemed to get ahold of himself then, squared his shoulders. "Take that back," he said, regaining his ground. If it were not for the girl in his arms, Ka was not sure what he might have done.

Farris did not back away, and his only movement was to use his free hand to cover Nenani as though to shield her. He met Ka’s eyes with a firm unwavering stare. “I don’t take it back. This is my kitchen and my word is law.” Farris let a small smirk come to his lips. “Just keep in mind though, I didn’t say nothing about actually cookin’ ‘im.”

The giant blinked, relaxing a bit. "What?"

At this point, Cairo heaved a dramatic sigh and pulled himself up. He looked the man up and down and came to a conclusion. "Ugly lump."

Nenani poked her head out from behind Farris’s hand. “No fighting.” 

At Nenani's word, Ka took a step back. There was still anger in his blood, and he elected to stay on his toes, but any hostility was snuffed out by the girl's voice.

Farris only adjusted his hand to ruffle her hair.  “Well ye ain’t no Blue Thorn Beauty yerself,” Farris shot back at Cairo, then raised an eyebrow at him. “Ain’t ye a bit old fer being carried ‘round like a babe?”

Cairo raised a brow, then patted the chest behind him. "This one here's the baby when it comes down to it, little man. Now--" He cut himself off as if he had heard something. "Alright already," he grumbled at apparently nothing. "What do I have to do to get your sorry bag of bones to do something decent, eh? This boy's half starved."

"Cairo..." Ka hissed through his teeth. "I haven't done the work yet."

Farris huffed and rolled his eyes. “Yale,” he called without taking his eyes from the pair. “Go grab this one one ‘a the leftover meat pies.” He paused, reconsidering the man and his height. “Make that two.”

“Will do, boss,” Yale replied, flashing Ka a wide grin before running off towards the stairway that led into the kitchen proper. 

“I don’t run a charity here,” Farris told him sternly. “But if yer gonna be any use to me at all today, it wont be with an empty belly. Ye’ll eat and then ye’ll work. Understand?”

"No," Cairo said blatantly before Ka had a chance.

[bittywitches]

A random Dialogue I came up with in my head while trying to fall asleep the night before. // G.D

Been having trouble writing lately and ended up just daydreaming (night dreaming?) abt Grayson one night, so I thought I’d try and just get it out and write something. Enjoy :)

You’re sitting in your bedroom, laying on your back with your laptop sitting on your stomach. You’re cuddled up with your jumbo-oversized teddy bear, your head resting on it’s furry stomach and your elbows lazily resting against it’s fat squishy legs. A google doc is opened on your screen, and you’re trying to half-assedly write a response for your final project on why Duke Orsino actually was gay in Twelfth Night, along with many of the other supporting characters, despite what most old white bardolators may tell you. 

You feel a vibration near your leg, and you tilt your head to the side to see someone calling your phone. You pick it up, and your eyes widen when you see that it's a facetime call from Grayson Dolan. This was, of course, a shock, considering you and Grayson weren’t even that close friends, you only occasionally texted each other anymore, barely ever called, and literally NEVER facetimed. You guys had barely spoken to each other since quarantine had started, so it was definitely a surprise. 

Your eyes flicker to your laptop screen, seeing that it’s around 9pm. Not too late that it’s sketchy or anything, but still pretty late for it to be strange.

You place your laptop down beside you and situp, leaning back against your headboard, quickly tying your hair up into a quick messy bun to make yourself look somewhat presentable. You slide the green phone icon across your screen.

Grayson’s face appears on your phone. He’s wearing a cute oversized fuzzy hoodie. His short hair is a bit frizzy, and it still takes you by surprise because you’re so used to seeing his long flowy locks.

“Heyy,” Grayson says, smiling at you. From behind his screen, Grayson sets himself down onto the living room couch, laying back on the arm.

“Hey.” You respond.

“What’re you up to?”

“Uhh, not much. Just working on final assignments and whatnot.”

“Oh, yea, school’s almost over for you, right?”

“Yep, just a few more weeks.”

“Bet you’re excited to finally get time off.”

You chuckle. “Yeah, tired of being stressed all the time.”

“Makes sense.”

An awkward silence fills both your rooms.

“Soo…” Grayson lays his head on the side of his couch.

“What’s up? Why’d you call?” You ask him.

“Oh, no reason. Just bored and felt like talking to someone.”

“Ethan not home?”

“Nah, he went out skateboarding with some friends.”

“This late?”

“It’s not that late. Just went to the park nearby.”

“Sounds fun. You know, I’ve always wanted to learn how to skateboard.”

“Yea?”

“Mhm. Maybe E can teach me sometime.”

“Hey, I know how to skateboard too. And I’d definitely be a much better teacher.”

You laugh. “Alright, next time we meet up you can teach me how to skateboard.”

“It’s a date.”

You both give a lighthearted chuckle, but then things turn quiet again.

“Erm, hold on.” You place your phone down on your bed. 

“Where’re you goin’?”

“Gonna put my phone on a pillow so I don’t have to keep holding it,” You say, grabbing your nearest one and doing your best to balance your phone on top of it.

“Is that a giant teddy bear?” From the angle of your phone, Grayson can see your big stuffed animal sitting behind you. 

“Haha, yea.” You lean back down on it briefly to give him a better idea of the size. “He’s my cuddle buddy.”

“That’s cute.”

“Our relationship has gotten a lot stronger since quarantine started.” You peck the bear on the nose. Grayson laughs.

“I’m happy for you guys.” You giggle, sitting back up. 

“Why thank you.” You turn your attention back to your laptop quickly, and Grayson follows your line of vision.

“So what subject is this final for?”

“English.” You sigh. “Which sucks, because I’m shit at it.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Oh but it is. I always do incredibly bad, I’m literally the worst.”

“Well you’re definitely not the worst, because I exist.”

“Well yeah but it’s not your fault that you can’t read.”

“Hey, I can read!”

“Sorry, It’s not your fault that you’re ass at reading. It is however my fault that I can’t write for shit.” 

He laughs. “Fine, sure.”

You giggle. “Sorry. Just a bit stressed.”

“No big deal.”

Silence again. Usually now would be the time you’d make some excuse and cut the call. But for some reason unknown to you, you didn’t want to do that. You want to fill it.

“Oh, I watched your guys’ last video.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Tell me you guys weren’t just trying to look like douchebags with your literal 100 grand.”

“Aughhh,” He groans, rubbing his face with the hand not holding his phone. “I swear we really weren’t.”

“Uhuh.”

“I realize that it may not look like that,”

“Oh really?”

“Considering we actually had wads of cash,”

“Mhmmm.”

“But we weren't, I swear. We just thought it’d be funny for a stupid little video.” 

“Okay then.”

“Hey!”

“Not judging.” 

“Since when do you watch our videos anyways?”

You gave him a side-look. “What do you mean? You think I don’t?”

He shrugs. “Dunno. Just assumed…”

“You’re my friend. ‘Course I do.”

He smiles.

“Plus they are pretty fun. Like to have them on in the background when I work sometimes..”

“No way, really?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“I mean, all the ones since quarantine we’ve had to be pretty creative with. Since we’re stuck at home and all.”

“You guys don’t give yourselves enough credit. I love what you come up with. It’s cool to just listen to you both ramble about stuff.”

“...Are you saying you also listen to the podcast?”

Your eyes shoot back to him. He was actually joking, but seeing your guilty expression lead to the smug sort of look on his face.

“You guys have very satisfying voices, okay?”

“Uhuh.”

“Shut the fuck up!” You laugh, and he does as well.

“Either way, thanks. It means a lot that you do. I never really know if people we’re friends with like our stuff, so it’s good to know that at least someone does.”

You smile, and he returns it. 

You suddenly hear a ding coming from his side.

“Oh shit almost forgot about my toast-” You see Grayson’s phone wobble as he gets up to head for the kitchen.

“Avocado?”

“You know it.” “Dang, I don’t think I’ve had avocado toast since…” You pause. “Huh. I guess since I accidentally ran into you at that one restaurant and we happened to get food together.”

“What-” He rights the phone so it’s facing him again. “That was ages ago!”

“Yea, I know.”

“That’s unacceptable.”

“You may think so.”

“Alright, so after I teach you how to skateboard, I’m gonna have to take you out for food.”

You laugh. “Is that a set in stone thing?”

“Oh definitely.”

He sets his food down on a table, and you watch as he tries to balance his phone up against something. He sits down, then takes a bit before looking back up at you.

“So when’s this due?”

“Uhh, tomorrow night.”

“You almost done?”

“Er..” You look at your half written page. “...sort of.”

“So no,” he chuckles, and you do too. 

“I’ll finish it, don’t worry.”

“Didn’t say I was.”

“Well that’s ru-”

“Because I know you’ll finish it,” He interrupts you, and you roll your eyes. “You always do.”

You sigh, setting your elbow down on your knee and resting your face on your hand. You watch him silently for a bit, and he takes a few more bites before realizing your eyes on him. 

“What?” He says, food still in his mouth.

“Nothin’,”

“Yea?”

“Yea, just… kinda just miss you.” You finally blurt out.

He stops chewing suddenly, and looks at his phone with a very intent look. He expects you to say more, but you don’t, looking back at your laptop screen.

He swallows, then sets his toast down. “Kinda just miss you too.”

You smile, trying to hide it by squishing the palm of your hand into your face, not taking your eyes off of the illuminated laptop.

“Why don’t we hang out anymore?”

“Because we’re legally not allowed to.” You finally look back at your phone, grabbing it from it’s pillow stand and then flopping down onto your bear’s belly.

He rolls his eyes. “No, smartass. Before that.”

You shrug. “Dunno. We never really did to begin with.”

“Sure we did, there was the restaurant, and…” He trails off, looking far away at some corner of the room.

“I mean we hung out with other friends. And we talked sometimes.” You shrug again. “Not really much else though.”

He runs a hand through his short hair. “Why not?”

You laugh. “Bro, I don’t know! You never asked!”

“Well I fuckin wanted to!” He rubs his face with both his hands as he chuckles. 

“Really?” Your laughter dies down now, a softer tone taking on your voice.

“Duh, of course.” He tilts his head as his soft eyes look at you. “You’re really fucking cool, and I really wanted to get to know you better, but it felt weird to just randomly come out of no where and be like ‘hey, wanna hang out?’ like that shit usually comes naturally, yknow?”

“Well, we don’t really hang out in the same circles, so I don’t know how it would.”

“Yeah, but I thought maybe…” He sighs. “I don’t know. I didn’t even know if you wanted to be friends or anything, so..”

“Well that’s frustrating.” You slump your shoulders down, relaxing more into your bed. “I really wanted to be friends. Just didn’t wanna seem fucking… annoying or anything.”

“Oh my god why are we like this.”

“I don’t fucking know!!” You both burst out laughing, and you momentarily drop your phone to rub the tears out of your eyes.

“Okay, it’s settled then.” You hear his voice and pick your phone up off your stomach to face it towards your face again, now sitting up. 

“What is?”

“After quarantine and everything is over I’m definitely taking you out for food and skateboarding.”

You grin. “Okay. Sounds amazing.”

“Great.” There’s quiet again, but it’s not awkward anymore, both of your gleeful grins speak volumes over it.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

You giggle. “Okay, I should go. Should probably actually try and get this thing done.”

“Right. I’ll… call you tomorrow?”

You bite your tongue. “Yeah.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye.”

You cut the call, and let your arms fall down to your sides as you fall back on your bed and grin up at the ceiling. You squeeze your eyes shut, just breathing in and out to calm yourself down from the little rush. Though the buzz of your phone once again catches your attention. 

You get up and look at it, seeing it’s a text from Grayson. 

Grayson D.: Just realized you probably don’t have a skateboard…

You bit your lip, and flopped down onto your belly now, your legs up in the air as you text him back.

Y/N: You’d be right 😅

Your eyes eagerly watch the three dots bouncing on the screen.

Grayson D.: Would you wanna borrow one of mine?

Y/N: I’m totally good with getting my own, but idk where

Grayson D.: Well there’s this shop near my house…

Assignment long forgotten, you and Grayson end up talking well into the night.

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Betty//crush culture

Request: Can I request a Betty/Reader where Reader and Kevin are friends and reader tells him she has a crush on Betty and Kevin lets it slip about the crush, maybe Kevin tries to set them up?

hey! again, this is another thing i wrote a while ago! but don’t worry, this is the last one of those for a while! so yay! sorry if the style is a little different than usual. i still hope you like it though!  

“So boys. Talk to me about them.” Kevin asks suddenly and you stare at him blankly across the lunch table. 

“They’re idiots?” You shrug and he sighs dramatically, dropping his sandwich back on the wrapper. 

“No.” He shakes his head. “Do you like any of them?” 

“Nope.” You reply casually as you continue to eat, not even glancing at him. 

“Come on. There’s got to be someone you like.” He says excitedly making you sigh and stop eating. 

“There is.” 

“So who is it?! Is it Arch-”

“Its not a boy, before you start.” You interrupt him and he stares at you, his eyes wider than before and his mouth slightly agape. 

“A girl?” 

“Newsflash Kevin Keller, this is the 21st century, not everybody likes boys.”

“Haha. So funny.” He says sarcastically and crosses his arms. “You never told me you liked girls.” He pouts. 

“You never asked.” 

“So, who is it?” 

“Just some girl.” You reply, your gaze slipping from Kevin and to the blonde girl walking past your table. 

“Hey Kev. Hey Y/n.” Veronica greets the two of you as she stops briefly by the side of your table. Betty stops just next to her and the two of you make eye contact for a few seconds before looking away. Kevin and Veronica make small conversation while you try to concentrate on eating and Betty looks around the lunch hall. The two of them finish their conversation and Veronica waves goodbye to the two of you before dragging Betty away to find Archie and Jughead.They sit opposite Jughead and Archie and they laugh loudly at something Archie has said making your lips curl into a smile.

“Y/n?” Kevin asks, tapping your arm and you turn to look at him quickly. Kevin’s eyes follow where you were looking, or more importantly who you were looking at and wide smile breaks out on his face. “Awww. You fancy Veronica.” 

“What? No!” You say loudly. “I like Betty.” You mumble and he slaps your arm in shock. 

“Ohhhhh. Betty Cooper. Yeah, I can see the two of you getting together, buying a house together, maybe get a few pets, getting married, having children, then dying together peacefully in each other’s arms.” 

“Well, that took a dark turn, even for you.”

“What do you mean for me?” He asks offended and you send him a look. 

“Do I need to remind you that you found a dead body in the woods and then tried to join a cult?” 

“No thanks. I don’t need reminding.” He rolls his eyes. “Maybe I should have stayed at that damn farm, they were better friends, nicer. Even if they did harvest organs.” He replies crossing his arms making you chuckle. 

“See, dark for you.” 

“Shut up.” He huffs. “So. You and Cooper huh?” He wiggles his eyebrows teasingly and its your turn to roll your eyes at him.  

“There’s no me and Cooper.” You reply, stabbing your fork into your food. 

“Not with that angry attitude there isn’t.” 

“Would you like to be in the foods position?” You ask and glare at him. 

“Not particularly no.” He shrugs. “But, you and Cooper.” 

“Kevin, I don’t care if you’re the ex sheriff’s son, I will put this fork through your eye.” 

“No you won’t.” He replies. “Because then how would you and Cooper get together?” 

“Right.” You stand up. “I’m leaving you now. I’ve got Chemistry homework that I’d rather do than listen to you go on an on about a non-existent, delusional relationship.” 

“You could always do you homework with Betty. Bit of Chemistry, definitely some...biology.” He wiggles his eyebrows and you flip him off. 

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes before walking away. 

“Okay!” Kevin shouts after you. “I’ll see you tonight?!” 

“Yeah!” You reply. “I’ll be round at about 6.” You add annoyed and he smiles to himself before grabbing his food and bag and making his way over Betty’s table.

“Hey, guys!” He greets everyone and they all smile and wave at him. 

“Where’s Y/n?” Betty asks quietly as she looks around the room. 

“Oh, she got annoyed with me so she went to do some homework.” Kevin shrugs while sitting down beside her. 

“Oh.” She replies and looks back at her food. If Kevin didn’t know any better, he’d think there was just a slight bit of disappointment in Betty’s tone at the fact that he’d come alone, instead of with you. 

“So, what’s are you guys talking about?” He asks, turning his attention to the rest of the table. Everyone looks at each other, and then at Betty before smirks appear on their faces. 

“Just crushes.” Veronica shrugs and Betty’s eyes widen. 

“Ooooo, tell me everything.” Kevin leans in closer to the table, excited to hear gossip that he doesn’t already know.

“Be-” Archie starts but she quickly glares at him making him shut up. 

“Elizabeth Cooper?!” Kevin asks dramatically. “Do you like someone?” 

“No.” She says far too quickly for it to be true and his eyes widen with excitement. 

“Oh, come on. Tell meeee.” He pleads. “I won’t tell anyone I promise. Y/n told me that she likes you and I haven’t told anyone.” He rambles quickly and everyone gasps. 

“Y/n likes Betty!?” Veronica practically squeals and Kevin sighs. 

“Shit.” He mumbles. “She’s going to kill me.”  

“Holy shit.” Jughead laughs. 

“She likes me?” Betty asks surprised and Kevin nods his head slowly, refusing to make eye contact. “Like, she like-likes me?” She asks again and he nods. 

“But you didn’t hear that from me okay?”

“Our lips are sealed.” Veronica smirks. 

“So who do you like Betty?” Kevin asks, trying to change the subject. 

“There is no way I’m telling you after you’ve just told everyone who Y/n likes.” 

“That wasn’t my fau-” 

“She likes Y/n.” Jughead interrupts. 

“No way!” Kevin shouts, gaining attention from a few students sat around their table. “You like Y/n?” He whispers. 

“Yes, fine. I like her too. Whats the big deal?” Betty replies. 

“Erm, the big deal is, you’ve just found out that the girl of your dreams likes you back and you’re still sat here when you could be asking her out and sealing your future together so you will get together, buy a house together, maybe get a few pets, get married, have children if you want and then die together peacefully in each other’s arms.” 

“What?” She asks confused, the rest of their friends also staring at Kevin with confused and concerned looks on their face. 

“Never mind that.” He shrugs off. “The point is. You like each other, now what are you still doing here?” 

“Coming.” She squeaks. 

“What?!” Everyone shouts. 

“No, Y/n. She’s coming back.” She replies and they all let out a breath before looking behind Kevin. 

“Shit.” Kevin mumbles. “She looks mad. Do you think she knows?” He asks. 

“How would she know?” Archie replies. 

“I dunno. She knows exactly what I’m feeling, sometimes even when I don’t know and she aways knows how to cheer me up. She’s very sensitive like that.” Kevin says to Betty and she rolls her eyes at him. 

“Are you seriously trying to talk her up to me when she’s literally five steps away from us?” 

“Mayb-” 

“Hi guys!” You greet everyone happily. “Hi-hi, Betty.” You mumble nervously when you make eye contact with her and she blushes before looking at the table. The rest of your friends take the awkward opportunity to share a look with each other before they come up with a plan in their heads. 

“What are you doing back? I thought you had Chemistry homework to do.” Kevin asks. 

“Turns out I’d already finished it.” You shrug. 

“Thats so responsible.” Betty mumbles in awe causing Veronica to choke on her drink. 

“Are you okay?” You reach across Betty to pat Veronica on the back and her breath hitches as your arm brushes past her. 

“Fine.” She chokes. “Just fine.” She reassures you and you smile at her while standing up properly. Betty’s heartbeat increases as she watches you smile and then laugh at something Jughead has said, and then everything feels a little too much. Because now that she knows you like her, and she likes you back, she has to do something about it because you don’t know that she likes you back and she doesn’t know what she’s going to do. She’s never asked a girl out, she’s never asked anyone out. And what if you say no? What if Kevin heard you wrong. Or what if it was Betty Thompson? Or Betty Daniels? What then? 

“Betty?” You ask, concern lacing your voice as you place a soft hand on her arm. “Are you okay? You zoned out.” You say and she looks around the table. 

“I’m, err, fine.” She replies confused. “I’ve got to gay.” She stands up quickly almost knocking you over. “I mean go. I’ve got to go.” She corrects herself before hurrying out of the room. 

“Is she okay?” You ask, sitting in her previous seat. 

“Yeah.” Archie replies. 

“She’s just found out some stuff about her crush.” Veronica says casually and your eyes widen. 

“Betty likes someone?” You ask quickly. 

“Yep.” Jughead says casually. 

“Who!-who is it?” You ask, trying to act naturally but you’re entire body is on fire. Who does Betty like? Just tell me who she likes!?!?!

“Just some girl.” Archie says through a mouthful of food and you can hear everyone trying to suppress their giggles. 

“Okay.” You cross your arms. “Whats going on?” 

“We just said. Betty likes someone.” Jughead says. 

“Hey, Y/n?” Veronica asks. “Do you like someone?” 

“Kevin Keller I swear to god I’m going to kill you.” You threaten angrily. “What did you tell them?” 

“Oh come on.” He says annoyed. “You guys promised you wouldn’t say anything.” 

“Sorry Kevin. Its too funny.” Veronica apologizes. 

“Collateral damage.” Jughead shrugs. 

“Fine.” He sighs. “I may have told them all that you like Betty, including Betty.” He says making you smack his arm. 

“You idot.” 

“But, plus point. Betty likes you back! Yay, isn’t that great.” He tries and you glare at him. 

“I suppose it is good, but you’re still dead Keller.” You reply and sit back in your seat. A few minutes pass and everyone makes small conversation around you until it hits you. “Wait!” You shout, standing up. “Fuck. She likes me back?! Betty actually likes me back.” 

“Oh, we were wondering how long it would take you to realize.” Veronica replies, not looking up from her food. 

“What do I do? Do I buy her flowers? What are her favourite flowers. Where does she stand with cats?” 

“Just ask her out for God’s sake.” Jughead says annoyed. 

“Yeah, obviously.” You reply. “Do you know where she is?” 

“Outside her next class.” Archie replies. 

“E-” Veronica starts but you interrupt. 

“English, of course.” You shake your head and grab your stuff, rushing off again. 

“Byeeee.” They call after you. 

“Am I still seeing you at 6?” Kevin asks. 

“What do you think?” You reply and he nods. “I’ll make it up to you!” 

“Of course.” He mutters. 

-----

“Betty!” You greet her, slightly out of breath as you lean against the wall. 

“Y/n. Hey.” She says startled as she takes in your breathless form. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I er. I need to ask you something.” You say. 

“I need to ask you something too.” She replies. “But, you can go first if you want.” 

“No, no.” You shake your head. “Its okay. Go ahead.” You say nervously.

“Are you sure. Whatever it was seemed important.” She replies. 

“Its fine. Really. Go ahead.” You smile at her a little and she returns it. 

“Okay.” She takes a deep breath. “Do you want to-” 

“Yes.” You interrupt and she stares at you. “Sorry.” You apologize quickly. “The answer is still yes though.” You whisper the last part making her smile. 

“But you don’t know the rest of my question though.” 

“Thats okay.” You shrug. “I think my question was the same as yours sooooo? Yes, I’ll go on a date with you.” 

“Date...yeah, that was what I was going to ask you.” She trails off and looks at the floor. 

“Everything okay?” 

“Yeah.” She smiles sincerely.

“So how about tonight? At Pop’s, about 6?” 

“That sounds great.” She replies and the two of you smile brightly at each other before the warning bell for your next class rings and the two of you sigh. 

“I’ll see you tonight.” You say and press a soft kiss to her cheek making the two of you blush brightly. 

“See you.” She waves you off. 

“Soooo?” Veronica asks once she appears by her side. “Did you as her to be your girlfriend.” 

“Not exactly.” She replies. “She assumed date and I didn’t want to scare her off, so I just went with it.” 

“Of course.” She laughs. 

------

“Y/n!!” Kevin shouts down the corridor and you slow down so he can catch up with you. “Did you ask her to be your girlfriend?” 

“No, she asked me on a date. I thought girlfriend would be a bit too strong at the minute.” You reply. “I’ll save that for after the date.” 

“...useless.” 

“What?” 

“Nothing! I’m really proud of you! And now you’re one step closer to dying in each other’s arms!” 

[thegoddamnfangirl]

Ditz

Pairings: Damian Wayne x Reader

 Requested by anon: Hello there! Could you do Damian Wayne x Reader where the reader is super sweet and cute and stuff but she's also really ditzy so everyone (including the rest of the Batfam) thinks she's dumb and it's weird, because Damian hates being around dumb people, but then they find out that she's actually like a genius and she just comes across as ditzy like that because she just really loves being around people. By the way, I love love LOVE your writing!! Every story of yours I read makes me so happy

Thank you so much, anon! I hope you’re safe and healthy, wherever you are. I’m sorry I’ve been inactive forever, and this fic isn’t my best work, I’ve gotten really rusty- but it was really a pleasure to write this for you, and I’m glad you enjoy my fics!

“Father, I’ll be having a friend over today,” said Damian, looking keenly at Bruce across the dinner table.

Bruce looked up from his food, a bit confused.

“A friend that isn’t Jon?” he asked.

“No, she’s a classmate, she- don’t look at me like that Father. Stop. Stop smiling, it’s uncomfortable!” said Damian, scowling.

“What? I’m not smiling!” said Bruce, with humor in his voice. “It’s just, it’s good, I’m glad you’re making friends. I’ll tell your brothers to not walk around in their uniforms.”

Damian shrugged in response, hoping his father hadn’t noticed the slight redness in his cheeks.

---

“WhoOP-“

“(Y/N)!” sighed Damian, grabbing her by the arm as she half-fell over the threshold.

“Sorry!” she laughed. “I’m hyper when I’m excited.”

Damian didn’t respond. Not letting go of her arm, he led her into the manor, towards one of the more favorably furnished drawing rooms (there had been several incidents some others, including someone absolutely ravaging one of the stiffly furnished ones, and one of the sitting rooms being converted into a slobby, messy, caffeine scented “family room”).

“I’d take you to my room but I’m afraid my father wouldn’t permit it,” he sighed.

“That’s alright, Dami,” she responded, smiling at him. “Is everything good with you and your dad?”

“As good as it ever was,” responded Damian, glancing quickly around the room as they entered it. Then he lowered his voice, and said-

“I’ve found that it makes him…warmer, somehow, if I engage in typical adolescent activities. It’s…nice, that way,” he said, his voice catching on the last part as if he wasn’t quite sure what he was saying.

She squeezed his arm, eyes bright.

“I’m glad. See, I told you- with family, all it takes is effort.”

“Yes, well-oh,” Damian stopped mid-sentence, his eyes on the door.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” said Bruce, with a small smile at (Y/n).

“Oh, that’s okay! I mean, hi- hello, Mr. Wayne-“ (Y/n) said, or rather jabbered, words tumbling one on top of another as she got up to shake his hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, (Y/n). Damian-“ said Bruce, looking towards his son, “I just wanted to tell you that I’ll be flying over to Metropolis tonight, but Dick-“ he was interrupted by a giggle from (Y/n), which he chose to ignore “-will be coming over to stay till I get back. No staying out too late, okay?”

“Yes, Father,” said Damian, shooting (y/n) as amused look.

“Anyway, (Y/n), it was great to meet you, I have to get going-“ Bruce began, just as (Y/n) backed up a little and rammed into a small side table.

“WeLP-oh my god, I’m sorry,” said (y/n) as the table fell over. Luckily, there was nothing breakable on it.

Bruce made sure, in a few short words, that (Y/n) was okay, and left the two to their own devices, wondering how it was that Damian had not uttered a single disparaging remark the whole time.

---

“Damiiiii I’m hoooome~” sang Dick, deliberately adopting the high, jaunty tone of voice he knew Damian hated so much.

The manor seemed pretty much empty, so Dick checked all the training rooms, and then he checked the Batcave. No sign of his little brother.

He was just about to call Damian when he heard a resounding thud from upstairs, followed almost immediately by a clang.

It sounded like it came from the little attic room that Damian would use as a studio, so Dick rushed directly upstairs, and shoved the door open to see-

A girl around Damian’s age, sprawled on the floor, her legs dripping with white paint. She was laughing, and a large can of paint was lying toppled on its side. Damian was looking at the girl with a mixture of exasperation and- amusement?

They both immediately looked up when Dick entered the room, and the girl hastily got to her feet.

“Hi!” she said, in an excited, chirpy tone. “I’m (Y/n), and you must be…Dick?” She extended her hand, which Dick took without thinking.

“Oh, shiz, sorry!” exclaimed (Y/n)- her hand was covered in paint, and now, so was Dick’s.

“Heh, that’s alright, kid,” said Dick, slowly processing the scene. Damian’s eyes were set intently on his face.

“Yeah, I’m Dick, you’re a…friend? Of Dami’s?” he asked.

“Yeah!” she nodded, previous embarrassment forgotten as she began to bounce a little on her heels. “Damian’s doing a portrait of me,” she added.

“That’s really nice of him,” Dick said, looking at Damian with incredulity. “I mean it, (y/n)…Damian isn’t nice at all, not ever!”

“Shut up, Richard,” growled Damian. “I need to get back to work.”

Dick laughed, with (Y/n) smiling as she assumed her position on a small stool in front of Damian’s easel, which faced away from the door.

---

Sometimes, when you really, really, like a person, you don’t want them to meet your family, or your family to meet them. The smaller your family, the larger the chances that this person will quickly be exposed to your entire family, but with a large family, you may hope to keep them hidden from some members, at least for a little while.

Damian hoped. He hoped in vain.

“She visited you? She visited you? Why?” hollered Damian.

“Relax, I liked your sister! She’s not a woman of many words, but she seems really nice,” said (Y/n), sincerely.

“Cassandra is not nice,” grimaced Damian. “She’s feral.”

“Damian, that’s not nice,” said (y/n), leaning forward in her armchair.

It was one of those really nice days when everyone was busy in their own thing, and Damian and (y/n) had a little privacy in a sitting room.

“Besides, Jason seems really funny,” (y/n) added.

Damian sat up straight in his chair, eyes flashing.

“Todd came to see you? WHY?”

“He was with Cass when she came over to give me the book I left at your place!” said (y/n). “I like your siblings, I really do.”

“That’s because you don’t know them,” whined Damian, knowing full well the real reason why Cassandra and Todd went to (y/n)’s.

Todd would call it reconnaissance. Damian called it being a busybody.

---

Within less than a month, through some excuse or the other, (Y/n) had been exposed to his whole family. The whole nuthouse. All Damian really needed at this point for his mother to go barging into her room at some ungodly hour and take her for blackmailing him or something, and the picture would be complete.

Damian’s real problem wasn’t what (y/n) thought of his family. It was more the way they had taken to teasing Damian, randomly whispering her name through the comms, asking him about his giiiiiirlfriiiend, someone (and he suspected either Stephanie or Todd) had even left an elaborately embroidered handkerchief with her initials on his bed. Even his father had joined in the joke, occasionally asking him if he needed any “tips” and whether he wanted to be taken to the jewelry store to scout for rings?

It was insufferable.

What bugged him the most, however, was the little talk he had had with Richard.

“Damian…listen. You really seem to like this girl,” Dick had said, making himself comfortable on the bed Damian had just made.

Damian had just shrugged.

“Look, I know what it’s like to really have a crush on someone, but she’s been coming over a lot, and before you start to get serious, I want you to think about how much you really like her. Do you think you’ll, erm, continue to like her?” Dick had asked, a little confused as to how to ask Damian the awkward question.

In spite of himself, Damian had asked what he meant.

“(Y/n) is very sweet,” Dick said, “but she’s a little, she doesn’t really seem your type.”

Damian had stared, as if waiting for him to continue, and he did.

“She’s adorable, Dami, but do you really have fun with her? I mean, not that kinda fun, just, I know if you’re going to seriously like someone they need to challenge you, they need to be sharp and-“

“Are you calling her dumb?” Damian had snapped, feeling his defensive hackles rising.

“No! It’s just, she seems a little scattered and, I dunno, ditzy? I know for a fact that you’re intolerant of anything but the very best in people, both intellect wise and strength wise.”

Damian had just sighed. “She’s much smarter than she looks.”

----

Tim and Bruce were staring.

(Y/n) was sitting cross legged on the carpet, flipping through a case file they had told her Richard was “going through for work, consulting a bit for the GCPD while he took some time off of his job”.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” she said, a goofy smile on her face as she put the file back on the central table.

She had come over to see Damian, and had been talking to Tim and Bruce whilst she waited for him. She’d gotten curious about the case file lying on the table, looked through it, and-

“She might have solved it,” Tim murmured to Bruce, half wondering how he had missed the subtle details (y/n) had picked up.

Bruce looked thoughtful.

“You seem quite observant, (y/n),” he said. “Would you like to give your input on some of the other cases we have? It would be quite helpful for the, uh, the GCPD to gain some fresh perspective.”

“Oh, sure,” chirped (y/n), entirely oblivious to all the surprise she had occasioned. “Let me just-“

She stood up sharply, forgetting that she had sidled almost entirely underneath the extended arm of a hardwood chair.

“Ouch!” she exclaimed, rubbing her head where she’d hit it. “Damn, I need to stop being so hyper,” she grumbled, earning a look of amusement from Tim.

Damian was quite pleased to hear that all of Dick’s previous doubts had been removed, and that the GCPD has received a sudden influx of invaluable input helping them solve at least two cases gone cold.

------

Okay, so i got a little awkward at the end. I’ll get it with practice, though.

Requests are open! Give me something to do y’all I’ll be in complete lockdown for a few more weeks! 

Also, for Damian x reader fics, could you guys please specify in the request roughly what age you’d want him to be around?

[shadow--writer]

Through That Mist I See the Shape of You and I Know That I'm in Love With You

h

after WEEKS of writers block and rewriting this bitch I HAVE FINISHED. TITLE (it slaps)

Maeve x Lucas. Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to tell you I love you. 6k

CW (im changing it lol): mentions of past trauma (Lucas), some bat hisses n hatred, flirting, these are dorks in love

@dela-png​

A headache was starting to build behind her eyes. 

Were all dates with Lucas going to be this...eventful? 

...unlucky? 

Incredibly unlucky?

She stared at the bat on the table, who was currently locked in a hissing battle with her partner. Tehi had fluffed herself to look bigger than she was, wings spread on the table. The high pitched hiss was directed at the one and only Lucas. 

Who was shooting her a wounded plea for help. 

Oh this was going swimmingly. At least she didn’t get bit by an eel this time. 

...unless he could summon them to land, which she almost doubted. But knowing him and the magic of this town? It was likely. 

She sighed, massaging her temples. 

“You royally pissed her off,” she said after a moment, cracking an eye open to look at him. She giggled, watching him rest his head on the table. He banged his forehead, making her snort. 

“Why! I didn’t do anything,” he moaned, looking over at her. She patted his head, Tehi letting out another hiss. 

Currently, Tehi was in front of their dinner, biting his hand every time he reached for something. His hands had suffered quite a bit in the past ten minutes. 

He stared longingly at the apple rings and the butternut squash he brought. “She’s even guarding dinner,” he grumbled. 

The situation was...delicate. 

Tehi, bless her heart, was on thin fucking ice. Lucas, bless his heart, was treading on eggshells. 

And her? She had no heart to bless but she was ready to give up and go on without any more squash (sadly enough). 

Having a territorial protective bat had its downsides. She grew up with Tehi, finding her in a tree injured and eating the fruit for harvest. Broke her ankle trying to get her down, her father lecturing her for hours after. 

But Tehi knew her. And she could read how she felt about Lucas just by body language alone. 

And Tehi was not happy. 

Of course, the sentiment was sweet, Tehi was being protective because of things in the past (that she was currently trying to viciously ignore), but...now she was just making sure Lucas starved. 

And Lucas…

Was sulking. She saw no end in sight unless Tehi stopped hissing. 

Second date was going worse than the first. 

“Most animals like me,” he said, reaching for Tehi, jerking his hand back as she lept for him. “Why not her? Is it a scent thing?”

“It’s uh...me thing.”

He looked up at her as she scooted closer to him, resting her hand on his knee. “Tehi doesn’t...like people getting close to me...romantically. Friends are fine, but you are um…”

“No longer a friend?”

She patted his knee with a smile. “No, I still treasure our friendship, we’re just different now.”

“So she just doesn’t…”

“Like you. Being with me. Like this.”

“How does she know?”

She felt herself flush. “She um...just knows! She’s been around me most of my life so she can read me pretty well.”

“Oh...like Jolie and me!” His brows furrowed. “So she doesn’t like...me being with you?”

“It’s a very horrific crime, I’m afraid. Mo mhuirnín dílis,” she said, kissing his forehead. He settled into her touch, Tehi letting out an indignant squawk. “I don’t think she’ll ever forgive you for this.”

He made a face. “Well she’ll have to get over it.”

“Mmhmm, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for a while longer.”

He opened his eyes, smiling a little. “I like being stuck with you.”

She flushed. “Don’t be sappy in front of my bat. She hates you enough already.” 

He puffed his cheeks out in a pout, the face strikingly similar…

...to one she made. 

“I don’t want her to hate me though,” he whined, looking over at Tehi. She clutched her strawberry close, letting out a very angry hiss at his gaze. He turned away. 

“I’m afraid you have no choice. You’ll grow on her eventually.”

“Eventually,” he repeated with a grumble. “Eventually, is not a now.”

“Be patient, mo grá. She’ll come around. You have a way of getting to people.”

“I do?”

“You did with me. It was very shocking how fast you managed to wedge yourself in my life.”

“Yeah. Then you tried to get rid of me.”

“Strong words! It was more like...give you a nudge elsewhere.”

He raised an eyebrow, making her giggle. “Fine. Maybe I was getting rid of you. But I had very good reasoning for it.”

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked softly, making her blink in surprise. 

“No...it was just...you scared me a little,” she murmured with a small smile. “You still do.”

“Why?”

“You’re...different. From what I’m used to. You’re just...so...open.”

“Is...that a bad thing?” 

Curse those eyes, big blue and pleading. It was like he didn’t even notice how he affected her when he looked at her like this. 

She brushed his hair back. “You built a window instead of a wall. You wear your heart on your sleeve.”

Tehi watched them, perched on a plate. Lucas reached over and she bit his finger. He let out a curse, shaking his hand as he pulled away, sticking his tongue out at Tehi. 

She bit back her laughter. “I can help with those.”

“It’s fine,” he muttered, popping the finger into his mouth. 

“Is it bleeding?”

“A little.”

“Lucas.”

“Mm fine. I’ve gotten worse.” Her eyes were drawn to the scar around his neck, and the ones disappearing into the collar of his shirt. They felt familiar, like something she’d seen before. She reached out, brushing one of the scars. The ones that looked like the marking of an animal. 

Or the symbols on her walls. 

He jolted under her touch, staring at her with wide eyes. She pulled away quickly, not thinking. 

“I’m so s-sorry! It’s just…” her brows furrowed. “Those markings feel familiar. I’ve seen them before...not just when my clinic was broken into.” She met his gaze. “What are they from?” 

His eyes darted away as she asked, wringing his hands. “Made some...bad choices,” he said gruffly. “It’s nothing.”

She blinked, shifting away. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

He reached over for her hand and hesitated. She bridged the gap and laced their fingers. “You’re fine,” he murmured, sitting up and leaning against her. “Just stuff I don’t want to talk about.”

She hummed, resting her head on his shoulder. “I understand. I won’t ask if you don’t wanna talk.”

He squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I could do,” she said with a smile. “Besides, we have bigger fish to fry.” She looked back at her bat. “...and that’s getting dinner.”

He winced. “Does she have to bite me?”

“Apparently.”

Tehi chirped, preening. 

He glowered. “She has sharp teeth.”

“I offered to help.”

He slouched against her, knocking her off balance. She let out a small squeak, wrapping her arms around his neck before she fell out of her chair.

He laughed, resting his head against her shoulder. 

“Lucas I’m gonna fall!”

“Mmhmm.”

“And take you with me.”

“That’s nice.”

“Get offa me!” She was giggling, bumping her head against his. “You’re too heavy!”

“Mm but if I can’t eat tonight then I guess I’ll just sleep.”

“I can move her, you know.”

“Yes but that’s not gonna stop her from biting me.”

“…or trying to eat your hair.”

He cracked an eye open, wincing. “That too.”

She giggled, kissing the top of his head. “Good news is, she tries to eat everyone’s hair.”

“Is that just...a Tehi thing?”

“Yeah. I think she thinks it’s going to taste any better the more she tries it. Though, watching her chase Malory around was pretty funny.”

“What did he do specifically? You mentioned lying, calling the guards and erm…”

“Murder? Trust me, I have thought about it.”

“I’m aware.”

She flicked the tip of his nose, making him wrinkle it back. “He accused me of stealing. Tehi, well, she’s a bat. No sense of money and trade, only get food to live. I paid for what she took, but he...wasn’t happy about her taking it in the first place. He has the best fruit in the market so her taking things...became a habit.”

He winced. “So he calls the guards on you?”

“Every time he sees me near his booth. Sucks the best fruit in the market has to be sold by an asshole.”

“I could always go grocery shopping for you. If you’d like me to.”

“You...would? For me?”

He nodded, resting his chin on her shoulder. “If he’s the one making you walk all the way to Center City to get fruit, then I’d be happy to go for you.”

She turned and hugged him, burying her face in his neck. “Oh thank the stars. I was close to trying to grow my own fruit. It would have been a disaster. I can barely take care of my medical herbs.”

He let out a small squeak, arms slowly wrapping around her. She made eye contact with Tehi, and if looks could kill. 

“You’re a disaster,” he murmured, making her giggle. “Amani grows plants if you ever want to ask her about them. I dunno if she grows any...fruit, but I know she has aloe. I get some of my spices from her.”

“She has plants? That’s amazing!” She brightened at the thought, letting him go. He smelled deliciously sweet, like nutmeg and cinnamon. “...you think she’d teach me how to keep a plant alive?”

He grimaced. “She could barely teach me. I killed a succulent and she quit.”

“I don’t have the time to take care of plants. Or I just don’t balance my time wisely.”

“I um...don’t manage my time well either.”

“...yeah, you workaholic.”

He blushed. “I-I’m not that bad.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Mmhmm. Working yourself to the point of passing out is not that bad.”

“That was one time.”

“I had to carry you home!”

“You had help!”

“Same thing!”

He snorted, making her giggle. Tehi blinked at them, seeming unimpressed. 

And now they were being judged by a bat. 

He moved over to grab a strawberry, Tehi chirping at the sight.

“I think we found our way to get her to like you,” she said, leaning against him. 

“Food?”

“Always a good choice.”

He prodded her side, making her swat at his hands with a squawk. “Is that how I won you over?” he teased. 

She wrestled his hand away from her side, struggling against him trying to poke at her again. “What if it was?” she said, sticking her tongue out at him. “I might just marry your pumpkin squash if I could get to it.”

Tehi chirped as if she liked that idea better.

“Hey! Don’t take her side!” Lucas said, turning to the bat on a plate. “She’s mean, I’m the nice one.”

“Aww, are you mad that she likes me better?” she teased, kissing his cheek. “What? Can’t win the affection of one little bat?”

“She’s not little and you know it.”

She giggled, tapping the tip of his nose. “If it makes you feel any better, my family would love you.”

“They…would?”

“Mmhmm. Especially my father and grandma. Cooking fanatics. I grew up trying new dishes. But…sadly I got my cooking ability from my mom.”

He laughed, a blush warming his cheeks. “I could teach you if you’d like.”

“You’d quit.”

“I would not!”

“Oh please! Most of my dishes either explode or are inedible. You’d quit within two minutes.”

“If we don’t have another great Jolie flour incident I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

“…Lucas, I am the great Jolie flour incident.”

“You can’t be that bad.”

“Try me. I’ve burnt eggs that weren’t cracked.”

“…how did you even do that?”

“Long story.”

“Trouble,” he said, ruffling her hair.

She grinned. “You like it.”

Tehi chirped again, staring at the strawberry he had. He tentatively reached over to give it to her, Tehi snatching it from his fingers and holding it close in her claws. He jumped back, the chair toppling over at the force.

He fell backwards with the chair, making her crack up. 

“Did I not warn you she’s protective of her meals?” she asked, looking down at him. 

“Apparently.” He winced, rubbing the back of his head. “Not.”

She giggled. “Whoops.”

“Does she do that to people she hates?”

She grabbed a strawberry, handing it to Tehi, watching as the same thing happened. A wicked little smile played across her face as she mimicked what he had done, down to the facial expressions and knocking her chair back.

Her head hit the floor hard, but she was giggling.

He shot her an unimpressed look, fighting his smile. “Gee. Thanks. I feel way better now.”

She looked over at him with a smile, her hair spilling out across the floor. “That was the funniest reaction I’ve seen to her.”

“…thanks.”

She snorted, squishing his face. “Don’t pout.”

“You’re so mean though,” he said, voice muffled due to her squishing his cheeks. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over this slight to my pride.”

She kissed him lightly. “Mmm I’m sure you will.”

He shifted closer to her, wrinkling his nose. “Don’t patronize me.”

She giggled, running her hands through his hair and rubbing her nose against his. “I would never.”

He snorted, kissing her softly. “She really likes strawberries, huh?” he whispered after a moment. 

She bit her lip, smiling. “She’s gotten me to like them just as much. Back home we had strawberry plants growing everywhere! Blueberries and blackberries as well. My Mhamó would bake so many pies during the first pick of the harvest. Our fingers would be stained red,” she said with a giggle. “Once Aislin ate so much her mouth was stained for a week. Someone thought she ate a person! Devoured them right off the bone!”

He snorted. “Are they your favourites?”

“Well…” she pursed her lips, thinking. “Have you ever had the first strawberry of the year? Ripe and sweet? I could eat them for hours and not tire...so...I guess they are. Tehi loved them from the get-go and I always carry some around.”

“Is that why you always taste like strawberries?”

She blushed, blinking. The question was innocent, she bit her lip and giggled again. He brushed her hair back, thumb running against her skin. “I um...guess so! But I don’t hear you complaining,” she said, nuzzling his cheek. 

He shifted his face to capture her lips, burying his hands in her hair. “I think I like them better this way,” he said with a soft smile, nose brushing against hers as he kissed her again. 

“We should get back up,” she murmured, being cut off by him kissing her again. “Lucas.”

“But if we don’t get up Tehi won’t keep hissing at me.”

“But squash.” She pouted, thinking about it. “I’m serious about marrying it.”

“How about you marry me instead, then you’d get all the squash you’d want.”

She snorted, kissing the tip of his nose. “Want me to have an affair with your cooking? It’s very tempting, I must say.”

He laughed, resting his forehead against hers. “Well? What do you say?”

She giggled, tugging at his hair. “Let me think about it.”

“Don’t take too long.”

“Oh yes because I’m the one asking you. What? Many people flocking to your door? Struggle tying you down?” she joked, kissing his cheek. “I’ll have to have more before making my decision.”

“If you can get around Tehi, that is.”

“I can get around her. She loves me. You on the other hand...”

He sulked. “Don’t remind me.”

She giggled, rising to her feet and picking up her chair. “Need help?”

“View is nice from here.”

She raised an eyebrow, squatting down next to him. “I’ll sic Tehi on you.”

“...you wouldn’t.”

“It’ll get her away from the squash.”

Damn, the puppy dog eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

“Don’t give me that look.”

He kept at it, she groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Fine! I wouldn’t. But you should get up at least.”

He sighed. “If I keep feeding her will she like me?”

“It’s how you got me to marry you.”

He snorted, getting off the chair and putting it back up. “Well I guess it’s not all bad then, huh?”

“Make a fruit pie and she might love you forever.”

“...she can eat those?”

“She sure damn tries. My dad tried making one and she had eaten most of it by the time we finished dinner. He was so mad he tried to ban her from the house.”

He laughed as she sat down, reaching over Tehi (and giving her a pat) to pile more squash onto her plate. She let out a happy hum, biting into it. “Mmm alright maybe I will marry you,” she said, cracking an eye open to look at him.

He plucked a cinnamon apple ring, dramatically holding it out for her. He raised his voice an octave. “Maeve O’Connor, will you do me the honour of marrying me?”

She snorted, laughing. Her cheeks warmed, she knew it was fake. He was joking. But it was nice. He was looking at her with a soft affection, like he actually meant it.

But he couldn’t have. He didn’t even love her.

“And then have an affair with your cooking?” she joked, pushing down her feelings. He was just flirting. 

He slipped the dessert on her finger, kissing her knuckles with a wink. “If it gets you to say yes.”

She giggled, staring at the treat on her hand. She bit into it, smiling at the familiar taste. 

He gasped in offense. “Maeve, that's your engagement ring!”

“It’s delicious.”

“I worked hard to earn the money to get that! I spent weeks working up the courage to ask and you eat it?!”

“But it’s good!”

He kissed her once, then twice. “You are going to make me work every damn day of my life, eating my hard earned money like that.” 

She smiled, tilting her head up to kiss his chin. “Mmmhmm. But you asked me.”

He only shook his head, stealing food from her plate. 

“Hey!” she yelped, reaching for the fork. He held it just out of her reach, teasing her. 

“Aww can’t reach?” he said, kissing the tip of her nose. 

“Curse these short limbs,” she replied, crawling into his lap. He blinked as she wrestled his hand, tugging the fork back down to her. She bit the squash off the end, grinning smugly. 

He flicked the tip of her nose. “That was mine.”

“No you stole it from me. I’m not gonna marry a thief.”

“But Tehi won’t let me get any more!”

“I can get it for you!” 

“No! You’re just gonna eat it all!”

She pursed her lips. “That’s true.”

“And you think I’m a thief.”

“You stole it from my plate!”

“You don’t have any evidence.”

“I watched you! And don’t repeat my shitty logic back to me!”

He laughed, ruffling her hair. “Can I at least have a bite of your engagement ring?”

She gasped, clutching her hand close to her chest. “Never. It is my engagement ring. I can eat it if I wish!”

“But I gave it to you!”

She made a face at him. “But it’s mine now!”

He made a move for her hand, she pressed her hand against his cheek, holding her other hand above her head. “No!”

“But Maeve!”

“No!” She was giggling so hard her ribs hurt. 

There was a flutter, and the makeshift ring was snatched off her finger. 

Tehi chirped, perched on a nearby bookshelf with the apple ring. 

She and Lucas stared for a moment before cracking up. “Looks like neither of us got it,” he said.

“And it looks like someone objects to this marriage.”

He tilted her chin, smiling softly. “She’ll have to try harder than that to stop it.”

She blushed at the sincerity of his words as he kissed her. For a moment she thought he was serious about it. He’s really gotta stop that, messing with her heart and head like that. 

“So...a bat huh?” he started, looking back at Tehi. “Like animals?”

She smiled, trying to fight her blush away. “Yeah. Tehi was an unexpected twist during a hide and seek game, but I grew up loving animals. My older sister has two dogs now.”

“Oh?” “Yeah! They’re very sweet girls, energetic as well. I dunno how she deals with him all the time. She’s written to me many times about how much they get into the baby food back home. She and her fiancée have four kids, one is a wee baby. Cutest little thing.”

“Do you like dogs?”

“Depending on the dog, but yes.”

“Depending on the dog?”

“I’m uh…” she flushed. “Scaredofbigdogs.”

His brows furrowed as he mouthed her word jumble back. “Scared? Why? They’re babies! Big sweethearts!”

She scratched the back of her head. “Well um...I got attacked by wolves when I was a teen. Kinda puts a damper on the whole...big dog thing.”

“...well. That’s a good reason.”

“Oh wow thank you for your approval, oh mighty big dog master.”

“Hey, they get a bad rep. Big dogs are amazing. They just get labeled as dangerous because they’re big.”

“Oh, so like you?”

He let out a choked noise, blushing furiously. “Well I-I mean...y-yeah?”

She smiled, brushing his hair back. “Hmm...I guess you’re okay.”

“Thanks. My fiancée is so loving.”

“Only for you.”

He rolled his eyes with a smile, chasing her for a kiss. She giggled, cupping his face in her hands. 

“I’d like you even if you were a big dog,” she murmured, kissing the tip of his nose. 

His cheeks reddened as he chuckled. “I’d like you even if you were a small dog.”

“Hey!”

“Thumbelina, you couldn’t be big in any form.”

She sulked. “You don’t have to say it though.”

He smiled, kissing her fingertips. “It’s true.”

“Hmph.”

He squished her face, rubbing his nose against hers. “Don’t pout.”

“I’ll pout if I wanna,” she sniffed, making him smile. “I’m small but I pack a punch.”

He winced. “I’m aware. I think you broke my nose.”

She giggled, biting his fingertip. He yelped softly, pulling away. She grinned at his glare, him holding his hand close. “Don’t be a baby. It was a love tap.”

He muttered to himself, looking at his hand. She left a small indent. “I felt no love in that tap.”

“You didn’t look hard enough.”

He snorted, resting his hands on her thighs. “Yeah let me rethink about you kicking me in the nose lovingly. That’s for sure what I felt.”

“In my defense, you insulted my honour twice. If you won’t defend me, who will?”

He tapped his fingers, making her squirm. “I learned my lesson. Next time I’ll win.”

“Mmm next time huh?” She giggled, throwing her hair off her shoulder. “Want a rematch?”

“Absolutely. This time I know your secrets.”

“Someone’s a sore loser,” she teased, flicking the tip of his nose. “And you only know some of my secrets. I am a mysterious woman, you may not know all of my secrets! I’ll kick your ass every time.”

He kissed her softly, holding her hands and lacing their fingers. “We’ll see.”

“Oh I know it.” He rolled his eyes, making her smile. She looked at their clasped hands, hints of cinnamon sugar still dotting her ring finger. He raised her hand, kissing the sugar away. 

“Hey, that's hints of my long lost engagement ring!” 

He smiled, kissing her inner wrist. “You were right about it being delicious.”

She rolled her eyes, fighting back her smile as she slowly climbed to her feet. “I know.” She looked at the food on the table, long forgotten. “I’ll...put things away. Take some home?”

He kissed her palm, letting her hand go. “You can keep the squash. I think it’ll get eaten.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “I have enough food at home, and you need it more than I do.”

“I don’t need it.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

“...yesterday.”

He raised an eyebrow, she blushed. 

“...morning…”

“Exactly. And I get lectured.”

“Well, you had time to eat, I didn’t.”

He rolled his eyes. “Potato patato. Take it, and please eat. Who will kick my ass if you’re too tired?”

“Amani.”

“...touché.”

She giggled, picking up the plates. “If you want to keep trying to win Tehi’s affection, I’ll leave the fruit bowl out. I’ll pack some of the apple rings for you.”

“Okay.”

She hummed, wrapping the squash and apple rings up in a cloth, looking over her shoulder to see Lucas making kissy noises at Tehi, holding a strawberry out for her. She hissed when he moved close, stopping when she saw the gift. 

Maeve giggled, placing the plates in the sink. 

“...is this yours?” he asked after a moment. 

She looked up, moving closer to where he was pointing. It was a sketch, one of many she had scattered about. Her brows softened as she looked at it. “Yeah. It’s of my home.”

“It’s beautiful, I didn’t know you drew.”

“I usually paint, but sketching is nice. My aunt taught me how, since drawing is a good skill to have with magic.”

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, watching her with soft eyes. “Magic?”

“Yes! Like sigils! Those can be used in different ways, drawing helps guide it. I have a sigil on my neck at the base of my skull…” she lifted her hair up, showing the three swirls. Mind-body-soul, as her sister said. It was her first, a stick and poke they did on a whim. “It helps amplify the magic I want to use, it can’t amplify raw magic, that comes from you but…” she blushed. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

He blinked, smiling. “No no! It’s interesting, tattoos are a way to transfer magic?”

“They’re a way...to channel it. To draw from you and your surroundings. Tattoos are more permanent versions of sigils, but they are some of the most powerful.”

“I think I have one of those.”

She lit up, bouncing on her toes. “Really?” He nodded, cheeks reddening. “Where is it? Can I see? What does it do? What are the side effects?” 

The look he gave her was startled, she blushed, rocking back onto her heels. “I um...sorry. I just...love this type of magic.” She laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck. “Most people don’t do tattoos with it, since they are permanent. I could...ask slowly?”

“O-Okay!”

“Where...is it?”

“On my back. Between my shoulder blades.”

She furrowed her brows, wrapping her arms around him, prodding at his spine between his shoulders. “Here?”

He nodded, staring at her wide eyed and blushing. “Y-Yep!” he squeaked out, making her giggle. 

“What does it do? Magic wise, I mean.”

His brows creased, overshadowing his eyes. “I...don’t know exactly. I think it makes me...stronger? When I want to be. It helps with...healing and I have a higher pain tolerance.”

“So a strength sigil? It would...feed on your strength you have and help aid you when you tap into it. The pain tolerance and healing could be a meaning behind some of the symbols, but I’d have to study those.”

He smiled, laughing. “If you wanted me to take my shirt off you could’ve asked.”

She blinked, going over the implications before blushing. “I um! I didn’t mean it that way! S-Sorry it just-”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “You're fine, I’m teasing.”

She grumbled, wrapping her arms around him as she stood on her tiptoes. “I wouldn’t mind it either.”

He blushed, making her bite her lip as she smiled. 

“I have been studying sigils for a while now. I just made another breakthrough with some! Currently looking into light sigils due to how easy they are…”

“May I see?”

Her lips parted in surprise, eyes widening. “Y-You’d want to see it?”

“Of course I do! It’s something you get excited about, even if I might not understand it...why wouldn’t I?”

“Not um...everyone likes to listen to me ramble.” She giggled, nervous. “It’s fine! I tend to be long winded.”

He kissed her softly. “I think it’s cute, I like seeing you talk about it. I’d be happy to listen.”

She kissed him back, harder. She knocked him off balance as she pushed herself off the ground. His hands hovered over her waist for a moment before he bundled her close. 

“I’ll show you,” she murmured, letting go of him. He set her down, letting her take his hand and guide him to her room. “My room is a mess because of it, I must warn you.”

He laughed. “I’ve seen a messy room before.”

“Yeah. Yours,” she teased, winking as she nudged her door open. Tehi followed them, chirping as she fluttered up to a small bookshelf cluttered with small trinkets. Tehi snuggled close to the dog Lucas had given her, so many weeks ago. He stared at the bat and the wooden dog, his smile growing giddy. 

“You still have it!”

She looked over, smiling. “Of course I do, why wouldn’t I?”

He wouldn’t meet her eyes with a bashful smile. “I didn’t think you’d keep it.”

She squeezed his hand. “It was a gift.”

He looked at her with a soft smile, letting her guide him to sit on the floor. She gathered the pages on the floor, lips twisting as she looked at the symbols. “Do you want to draw your own?” she asked, half bent over, looking over her shoulder.

“Draw my own?”

“I can show you, if you’d like.”

“Alright.”

She smiled, face warming. Her freckles on her arms started to glow brighter as she scooped up blank paper. He held out a hand for her, helping her sit, nestled in the crook of his side. 

“I’d like to see your tattoo eventually,” she said, laying out the papers. “If you’d let me.”

He kissed her cheek. “Sure, I’d be happy to have a magic expert analyze it.”

“I’m no expert. You’d be better off seeing the magician in Center City.”

“I’d rather have you.”

“I’m touched.” She reached over his lap for her pens, chewing on her lower lip as she looked at the blank sheets of paper. 

“What’s first, oh mighty powerful witch?”

She giggled, handing him a pen and scooting a paper over. “Drawing the sigil. Here’s the light one I’ve been using.” She showed him the page, a line curving down and another tucked in it. Three lines connected the swirling ones. “These symbolize balance. Balance with light, no light can exist without shadow and shadow cannot exist without light.”

He traced the three lines connected the swirled. “And these symbolize the bond between the balance?”

She grinned, clapping her hands. “Yes! Exactly!” She leaned into him, holding her pen. “Sigils are all about the idea and magic you’re trying to put out there. What you want to happen, putting that want into the drawing and the magic in the air, activating it with the same.”

He watched her draw the sigil, copying her movements. “And how do you activate it?”

“Some are powerful enough to use a look, or a connection. I usually use my hands. Your hands are powerful.” He finished drawing the sigil, letting her take his hand and hold his palm open. She traced the lines, like she had some time ago. “Remember your palm reading?”

“Yeah.”

“Lines hold meaning. Heart, sun, fate, head, life. Magic flows through your hands. Hands are the start and the finish of magic, the connection between you and the earth. Am I making sense?”

“Kind of.”

“Think of it...like a connection. Magic from your hands seeps into the thing you’re trying to activate, a sigil in this example. Your hands are...an anchor.”

“Oh…” he whispered, looking at his hands. Peering at them with critical eyes. “That makes sense.”

“And now that you’ve drawn the sigil with the intent for light, you anchor and channel that magic into your want for light.”

“How?”

“I can show you.” She got to her feet, blowing out the candles. Tehi chirped, bouncing on the shelf as she watched them. 

She reached out blindly, letting him take hold of her hand again and lead her back. Sitting back down, she placed her hands on her sigil. 

“Palm against the drawing,” she murmured, trying not to break the fragile air of intimacy hanging around them. “Think of light and the sigil will answer. Think…a fire. A candle. The sun on your face.”

“You?”

She stiffened, blushing. “I-I guess s-so,” she squeaked, making him chuckle. She watched him place his hand on the sloppily drawn sigil. 

She chewed on her lip, trying to hide her giddy smile. His eyes fluttered shut, leaning against her. She leaned back, breathing in and letting it out with the idea of light. 

Her sigil folded, and started to glow. She smiled, satisfied, before turning to look at him. His face was set in concentration, the room was quiet, their breathing soft. 

Slowly, the sigil folded, glowing brightly. She cheered, the sound startling him into opening his eyes. He paused when he saw the ball of light at his palms. 

“I did that?” he asked, eyes growing wide.

She grinned, tackling him in a hug and kissing him fiercely. He laughed against her mouth, cradling her head in his hands. “You did!” she said, glowing brightly. 

“What else can you do?” he asked, staring at the two lights. When he looked back at her his excitement was infectious, making her bounce. 

“Ice, earth and I once made a gust of spring air appear in the middle of winter! Plants didn’t work out well, but we can work on it! Imagine what we could do!”

“We?”

She blushed at her mistake. “I-If you want to. T-That is.”

“You’d let me help?”

She nodded, biting her lip. She wasn’t meeting his eyes, in her excitement she thought he’d...like to. 

But he wouldn’t. Why would he? 

He grinned, tilting her head back to look at him. Her thoughts evaporated. “I’d be honoured to help. If you’d have me. That is.”

“Hey I offered don’t get insecure on me now.”

He laughed, kissing her softly, sitting back up with her in his lap. She giggled against his mouth, burying her hands in his hair. 

“Okay,” he murmured. 

“Okay!”

They stared at one another for a moment before giggling again. 

“I did magic,” he murmured, staring at the light floating by her shoulder. “I made that, right?”

“Your magic. I didn’t do anything.”

His grin was quick to creep across his face, as he reached out to hold the light. She cupped hers in her hand, blowing it into his face softly. He sneezed as it exploded in a bunch of tiny lights, floating around his hair like a halo. 

Tehi chirped again, chasing a few of the lights. 

Smiling, she brushed his hair back and scattered the glitter that sat there. 

He blew his into her face, making her giggle as it exploded across her cheeks. “Oh look. More glowing lights to add to your already glowing face,” he teased, brushing her cheeks. 

She tilted her head to kiss the pad of his thumb, smiling. 

“So what’d ya say? Wanna explore magic with me?”

He tilted her face up, kissing her with such affection it made her heart skip a beat. 

There was a softness to his gaze when he pulled away, his brows set in content and his lips upturned in a gentle smile. A tender look settled into his eyes as he kissed the top of her head. 

“I’d love to.”

[twoidiotwriters1]

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

A/N: You guys have no idea how attatched I am to this fanfic idk what I’ll do once it’s over omg -Danny

Words: 2,506

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Somebody Else’ by The 1975

Chapter Sixteen: The Agreement.

Mel felt the cloak fall off her and Harry tried to move, but Hermione held to his wrist.

"Not yet! She might not be gone yet."

"She's goin' back ter the castle," Hagrid replied, peering through the window. "Blimey... inspectin' people, is she?"

"Yeah, Trelawney's on probation already..."

"'Mountain's scenery'," Mel scoffed. "That old cow, I wish I could put her in her place..."

"Me too," Harry sulked.

"Um... what sort of thing are you planning to do with us in class, Hagrid?" Hermione inquired anxiously.

"Oh, don' you worry abou' that, I've got a great load o' lessons planned! I've bin keepin' a couple o' creatures saved fer yer O.W.L. year, you wait, they're somethin' really special."

"Erm... special in what way?"

"I'm not sayin'. I don' want ter spoil the surprise."

"Look, Hagrid," Hermione said tensely, "Professor Umbridge won't be at all happy if you bring anything to class that's too dangerous —"

"Dangerous? Don' be silly, I wouldn' give yeh anythin' dangerous! I mean, all righ', they can look after themselves —"

"Hagrid, you've got to pass Umbridge's inspection, and to do that it would really be better if she saw you teaching us how to look after porlocks, how to tell the difference between knarls and hedgehogs, stuff like that!"

"But tha's not very interestin', Hermione. The stuff I've got's much more impressive, I've bin bringin' 'em on fer years, I reckon I've got the on'y domestic herd in Britain —"

"What now?" Mel asked in fear.

"Hagrid... please... Umbridge is looking for any excuse to get rid of teachers she thinks are too close to Dumbledore. Please, Hagrid, teach us something dull that's bound to come up in our O.W.L..."

"Lis'en, it's bin a long day an' it's late," He said tiredly patting Hermione on the shoulder. "Oh — sorry —" He stopped when he noticed he was forcing her to almost kneel. "Look, don' you go worryin' abou' me, I promise yeh I've got really good stuff planned fer yer lessons now I'm back... Now you lot had better get back up to the castle, an' don' forget ter wipe yer footprints out behind yeh!"

As they made their way back, Ron spoke.

"I dunno if you got through to him, 'Mione..."

"Then I'll go back again tomorrow," said Hermione determinedly, then looked at Mel. "You with me. We'll plan his lessons for him if we have to. I don't care if she throws out Trelawney but she's not taking Hagrid!"

"I agree with you," Mel sighed. "I guess I could help you by keeping Umbridge busy with other stuff."

"Like what?" Ron raised a brow.

"Maybe it's time I take your brothers' offer..." She said quietly.

Fred caught up with her before breakfast that Sunday.

"Hi," She said awkwardly. It was her first time talking to him after the Quidditch match. "What's up?"

"I just..." Fred started, "we never set a time for our... you know?"

"Oh," She grimaced, looking around the Great Hall. "Right."

"Is it okay if we have it today?"

"Right now?"

"After breakfast?" He shrugged.

"Okay?"

Fred wasn't doing anything that could be taken as inappropriate but he was, however, sitting far from his twin and Lee Jordan, which was extremely rare. No one had tried to sit on the empty place next to her, which let her know people was definitely avoiding them.

"Fred?"

"Hmm?" He replied chewing.

"Does everyone know what we did?"

Fred snorted, swallowing his food and smirking.

"Was it supposed to be secret? Sorry lady, but if you kiss someone in the middle of the Quidditch field, people will see you."

"Not always though," She mumbled.

"What?"

"I don't understand why are they being so weird!" Mel frowned. "It was just a stupid kiss! We didn't turn into aliens or anything..."

"What's an alien?"

"Nevermind that," She pushed her plate away. "I've lost my appetite..."

"That's unlike you," Fred raised a brow. "You're sure you're okay hanging out after this? If you're not feeling well–"

"It's not that," She said. "I just... I don't like it when they stare at me like that."

"If it makes you feel better, they're all staring at me. They hate me."

"Pfft–" Mel snorted. "How could anyone hate you?"

"It's true!" He said. "They hate me because you kissed me, you didn't choose them."

"What a terrible loss that must be!" Mel said dramatically. "All those broken hearts!"

"Half the school hates you too," Fred added teasingly.

"I know that," Mel smirked. "But what's the reason now?"

"Because you snatched me away from them!" It was Fred's turn to be dramatic. "I had thousands of options but you've stolen my first kiss! Now I belong to you, I can't do anything about it."

"That wasn't your first kiss!" Mel exclaimed.

"It was, I swear!" Then he added cheekily. "It was my first as much as it was yours."

Mel's eyes widened in horror. "Who told you?!"

"Blimey, no one!" Fred's mouth fell open. "I was joking!"

That made her face turn redder.

"Fred!"

"Please, tell me you didn't kiss Flint–"

"I'd never kiss—!" Mel stopped, people were starting to stare more intently now. She continued in an angry whisper. "I didn't kiss Flint!"

"Ron?" Fred scrunched up his nose.

"Knock it off," She groaned.

"Harry?"

"..."

Fred frowned. "I have more questions..."

Mel stood up.

"Time's ticking, Weasley. You better use it wisely."

"You'll clear my doubts?"

"If they're all about Harry, then no," She glanced at him, trying to ignore the whispers as they walked past their classmates. "It would be weird to talk about him with..."

"With whom?" Fred smirked. "One kiss and you're planning our wedding? A bit forward if you ask me—"

"Oh, shut it," Mel rolled her eyes. "Don't you think it's weird?"

"I'm just trying to get to know you," He shrugged. "The romantic side of you– You know, if I'm going to take any part in it..."

"We'll see," She raised a brow. "You're allowed to step out of this if you want and so am I."

"Fine."

Fred continued to walk next to her with ease. He had a soft smile on his face, enjoying himself. Of course he would, he'd always liked the spotlight. Mel was having a more difficult time, this didn't feel like the attention she would get from her friends, this felt like cold analysis, they were measuring her and Fred, trying to form an opinion.

She felt a bitter nostalgia about the way things had unfolded with her and Harry a few months back, this was exactly what they'd managed to avoid, but she had messed up this time.

"So..." She started. "Tell me about your first kiss..."

Once he replied, Fred asked her about hers and she made him promised he wouldn't say a word to anyone, not even George. When Mel finished her story, Fred wasn't that surprised.

"Well, no one caught you kissing or anything," He tilted his head, "We could see there was something going on, but none of us felt the need to confirm it."

"As it should be. Some people are so nosy! Take Skeeter, she gets paid for making up rumours! This wouldn't happen if we could just mind our own business..."

"Life would be boring without a little bit of drama," He nudged her arm playfully.

They sat on a bench, right under one of the trees near the lake. It was cold but not freezing, and they were wearing their robes, so they would be fine for a while before the wind could become a problem.

"My turn again!" Fred said enthusiastically. "Why did you kiss me?"

For some reason, the question caught her off guard. She knew why she'd kissed him, but she didn't want to upset him. Ginny reacted badly when she'd thought Mel was using her brother, how was he going to react?

"I... uh..." Mel fumbled with the end of her scarf, her cheeks pink with embarrassment. "You know I'm fickle..."

"Not as much as before! The only times you lose your temper now is when you talk to Harry. Which is weird, because—"

"I know, I know," She huffed exasperatedly. "Because I was always soft around him! Ugh! I know I had him as this knight in shining armour–"

"Knight?" Fred asked with a smirk.

"I won't fall for it again, all right?" Mel crossed her arms, feeling cornered. "I won't let him get to me this time."

Fred's smile faltered.

"Listen, I know you're not one to play with people's feelings," He scratched the back of his head. "That being said, right now it feels like you only kissed me to prove a point..."

"I do like you," She said, gazing at her shoes. "Not that way though... but I think you're funny and nice— Don't let it get over your head, but your flirting was really good too, even if you were joking..."

"I was joking at first, just to get a reaction from Ron's," Fred gave her a small smile. "But then you kissed me... I mean, I'm confused, but I thought it wouldn't hurt to try..."

"It could," Mel sighed. "Whatever happened between Harry and me... Fred, I don't want to ruin our friendship."

"Me neither," He admitted.

"This is a bad idea..." She reflected. "I don't think I'd make a good girlfriend right now."

Fred stayed quiet for a moment.

"How about we keep it casual?"

"What?"

"We don't have to call ourselves anything if we don't want to."

"What do you mean?" Mel frowned.

"Kind of like... well, you know Eddie Carmichael?"

"Yeah?"

"He has this thing with Lisa Turpin," He moved on his place to face her. "They don't date but... well, they do plenty of things without being exclusive."

"Fred," Mel bit her lip to avoid laughing. "You're asking for a 'friends-with-benefits' thing?"

"No!" He said, then added. "Yes? Well, you don't want to date me!"

"I said I'm not sure!"

"You're in love with Harry," He stated. "Don't deny it. I get it, you were snogging seven months ago—"

"We weren't snogging—"

"You're not someone that takes this lightly. I'm giving you a choice, Mel, if we insist on making things formal when you clearly don't want to be with me like that, things will get messy, but I still want to make you feel better. Going out and having lots of fun is a good way to heal."

"So you're taking one for the team and decided to be the one who shows me what I've been missing?" Mel joked.

"We must make sacrifices once in a while," He sighed. "It hurts me, giving up my virtue, but you're my friend and your wish is my command."

Mel snorted, nudging his side playfully.

"I'm pretty sure I'd heal even if you don't snog the grief out of my body..."

"You're talking nonsense already!" He rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, Mel. I'll take care of you..."

He cupped her cheeks and kissed all over her face -but stayed far from her mouth- which caused her to laugh in a way she hadn't laughed in months.

"Okay! Okay, I get it!" Mel pushed him away. "We must set ground rules, though."

"How about... since you're still a lovesick mess for Potter, I'll try to keep him off your mind as often as I can, that way you can focus on other things."

"Like you?" She teased.

"Maybe," He smirked. "But also like the D.A.— You're a great teacher, lady. Your students can't have you moping over a boy."

"Okay, but you won't try to kiss me unless I say it's okay."

"Sounds a bit tough," Fred pouted. "You're a good kisser—"

"Also," She continued, speaking a bit louder. "If anyone asks, just say we're dating— even if it's not entirely true, it'll keep a few people away from me and that's wonderful, I don't want their company..."

"You mean Goldstein, don't you?"

"Merlin, the boy is so annoying," Mel murmured.

"You have to help my brother and me with our pranks and products," Before she could argue, he added, "my girlfriend would want to help me succeed! Others might find it strange if you don't spend time with me, they'll think you don't care!"

"They'd be right."

"That's no way to treat your future husband, Lady Dumbledore."

"Finally," She said, standing up and offering her hand to him. "No one can know about this agreement. If we start to date for real at some point... it's our business and our business only. Understood?"

"Yup!" He stood up, holding her hand with a pleased expression. "One last thing?"

"Yes?"

"You can put an end to this anytime," He said. "This is meant to be fun, so if you change your mind or it makes you uncomfortable, you can tell me. I promise our friendship will remain intact."

"You can't promise that," Mel said quietly. "You can't know."

"Look at me— I swear it won't change."

She stared at him carefully.

"...We're just fooling around, right? It's nothing serious?"

"Just fooling around," He conceded. "And we can stop anytime you want, just say the word. I only do this for the same reason I asked you last year to the Yule ball. I think we could have a lot of fun."

"This is not the type of fun you were thinking of the first time, right?" She asked doubtfully. Fred laughed.

"Not at all!" He admitted. "But I don't mind this either..."

"Yeah," Mel looked down at their intertwined hands. "I don't mind it much either..."

Mel had to endure the whispering and glances towards her for the rest of the weekend and the entirety of Monday. Fred was having perhaps too much fun with it, and if he was present during the whispering, he would loudly flirt or mess with her.

She was torn between enjoying his attention and mortified at the fact that they were lying to their friends. Sure, they had an agreement, but ever since their talk, Mel had been very careful not to be seen alone with Fred, and she became really quiet about her private life even though all their friends were bombarding her with questions about her 'relationship'.

One thing that she wasn't expecting was Harry's reaction to the whole thing. Sure, she wasn't doing this to watch him throw a tantrum and yell at Fred about betrayal and all, and she couldn't be sure about him not being hurt, but overall, he was handling it with utter indifference.

He would talk to her and share notes while studying or preparing the classes for the D.A. but gone were the hours spent talking about nothing and everything from years prior. Harry was just another classmate.

The others thought that the sight of Mel without Harry was strange, but the pair were warming up to the idea. Truth be told, neither Harry nor her knew what it was to live in the other's shoes anymore.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world​ @just-here-to-escape-from-reality​ @21bruhs

[vanchlo]

Magic Moment

Hello! I could NOT resist writing another blurb about boyfriend!harry for my lovely friend, @bfharry‘s BOYFRIENDATHON after I got this idea! I’ve always loved baseball myself and playing lots of catch at work recently inspired this, as well as falling in love with Queen ;) Enjoy  some fluff about playing catch with boyfriend!harry at your childhood home c:

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Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.4k words

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Music Inspo: This Magic Moment by Ben E. King and The Drifters (click to listen and yes Sandlot *wink*) 

*

“Follow your heart, kid, and you can never go wrong.”

- The Sandlot

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad,” you jest, giggling nervously. The screen door closes with a loud whap! behind the both of you.

“Ya, maybe it wasn’t fer you,” he sighs in a whisper, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His high-top white converses slap! down the wooden stairs quickly. “I think I need anotha beer afta that.”

“Follow me.”

A humid heat hits you in the face when you open the scarlet-colored door to the garage. The familiar smell welcomes you, and so do the sights of your father’s tools hanging up on the walls. The lawn mower still sits in the same spot, his pair of old glasses remain perched on the windowsill, and the tiny mini fridge in the corner awaits your call.

“Thanks,” he mumbles after taking a long pull from the refreshing beer. You opt for a Whiskey-Coke, instead, the carbonation sending shooting stars across your tongue. You watch him wipe away the bead of sweat running down his forehead, and then the subsequent smile that drills the dimples into his cheeks. “Bloody hell, if that isn’t tha cutest thing ‘ve eva seen.”

A questioning ‘what’ barely passes your lips once you spot the miniature lilac colored baseball glove on a shelf. Next, a laugh falls from your lips and he echoes it with his own adorable concoction. 

“Hard t’ believe yer hand was eva that tiny, love.”

“I know, it’s funny that my dad kept it around.”

“I would if I were him, ‘s bloody adorable,” he notes, picking up the battered leather mitt with a content smile. “Ah, lookie here. Up fer a game o’ catch, love? Bet I could whoop yer ass.”

“Harry, you can’t beat somebody in catch!” you protest, the cool liquid gracing your lips, providing you a few seconds of relief from the summer heat. 

“We’ll just see ‘bout that, now won’t we?” he teases with a wiggle of his eyebrows. A tan, leather baseball glove hits you square in the chest, landing in your arms while he slips on a darker twin of it. “C’mon, I wanna see how girly of a throw ya got.”

“Oh, shut up. You have no idea what’s coming for you. You’re dating a former softball player here.”

“Am I now? Ya don’t seem that intimidatin’ t’ me, miss,” Harry laughs softly, the billowy cotton of his red Hawaiian themed shirt catching the wind once your feet find the grass. “Dunno how anythin’ can be intimidatin’ afta meetin’ yer bleedin’ father, tho’. Bloody hell,” he remarks, shaking his head. 

“It really wasn’t that bad, Harry,” you correct him, placing your tall can beside his dark glass bottle. 

“It was. Didn’t know he’d be so fookin’ hard on me, askin’ all o’ those questions. He never even smiled at me once, babe,” he scoffs, sliding the glove onto his large hand and messing around with it until it’s comfortable enough. 

“Yes, he did.”

“No, he didn’t. Or I didn’t see it. Dunno why he was so cold t’ me. Ya’ve always had such good things t’ say ‘bout growin’ up with him . . ,” he exhales, tossing the ancient brown and red baseball into the mitt. His short curls dance around atop his head as he crosses the large backyard, the very same one you played kickball in, where you hit home run balls into the woods, set cartwheel records in, and still have the pieces of wood set into the ground marking the bases. 

“He’s quiet, Harry, that’s all. You just have to find something in common with him, and then you’ll hit it off. I promise you, he liked you.”

“Don’t believe ya there, he was givin' me tha evil eye tha whole time durin’ dinna, even tho’ I was fakin’ likin’ his burgers. They were dry as hell,” he grumbles, soon coming to a stop a good way across the grassy area. Messing with his light-washed denim shorts, he checks his phone before letting it fall back into one of its pockets. “Reckon ‘s cuz yer his li’l girl, loads mo’ protective o’ you cuzz’a that.” 

“Keep going, I’m not a sissy.”

“Oh, so I should go long, ‘s that right? Dunno if ya can make it t’ me if I go back any farther,” he winks, the dimples set into his cheeks all the way from here, you notice.

“Would you hush? I pitched all throughout high school, I can make your hand hurt from catching it, if you keep running your mouth,” you argue. 

“Oooooo, she’s gettin’ feisty now,” he chuckles, raising his voice to carry across the clipped green grass, tall trees framing the yard. He pats his taut fist into the palm of the glove, the baseball snug in his large hand. Why, of course it is, Mr. Huge Hands.

Seconds later, the ball soars through the air and banks to the left, but with a jump, you catch it just in time. 

“What the hell was that?” you laugh, holding up your hands. 

“Erm, ‘m warmin’ up? Y’know, gotta get the old righty back in ‘s place,” he insists, stretching his dominant arm this way and that, ever so dramatically. 

“Whatever. You’re full of shit, Harry,” you call back, adding extra volume to your voice. His bottom lip escapes to between his teeth while his head goes from side to side. You surprise him with your throw and he misses it, pulling a loud laugh from your lips. “Not so confident, are we now?”

“Shuddup! Ya were a bloody softball player, ya got advantage ova me, ‘s not fair.”

“Don’t you start whining now! You’re the one who wanted to play catch with a five time-.”

“Ya ya, we get tha point, babe. Yer a bloody star when it comes t’ softball. I know, I know. Wish I coulda seen ya play, woulda been fun. Ya should join a summer league, they sound like a hoot,” he comments, locating the ball at last back in the woods and landing it in your glove. 

“And I played with my brother all of the time, and he was M.V.P two years in a row on his high school baseball team.”

“Good fer him, maybe he should be out here playin’ with you, instead,” Harry says when your throw to him sails over his head. “God, can ya control that arm o’ yers fer once?”

“Sorry!” you laugh, knowing that he doesn’t believe it for a second. 

“Sure ya are.” 

The ball arrives in your mitt with a pleasing whap! and your hand settles over it. Brushing your fingers along the coarse stitches, the shocks of green grass stains on the leather welcome you back to your childhood, tossing around this very same ball with your older brother and father. The nostalgia brings your hand to your pocket, and your fingers soon tap the screen of your phone. 

“C’mon, slow poke! What’re ya waitin’ fer? ‘Fraid ‘ll beat ya afta all?” Harry quips from across the yard, nearing you to retrieve his beer that he sips from. With a pleased ‘ahhhh,’ he sets it down on the gray cinder blocks of the nearby fire pit after walking back, placing enough space between him and it so he doesn’t run into it. 

Sliding your phone back into your pocket, music soon pours from the large bluetooth speaker in between you against the garage. 

“‘s this just fantasy? Caught inn’a landslide, no escape from realityyyyyy. Open yer eyes, look up t’ tha skies, and seeeeee,” Harry sings loudly, pumping his arms down at his sides and closing his eyes adamantly. “‘m just a poor boy, I need no sympathy. Because ‘m easy come, easy go, li’l high, li’l low.” 

“Any way the wind blows, doesn’t really matter to meeeeee,” you sing back, savoring the large smile painting his face as he catches your throw with ease. 

“Toooo meeee,” he sings back. “Mamaaaaaa just killed a man, put a gun against his head. Pulled my trigger, now’s he dead. Mamaaaaa, life had just begunnnn. But now ‘ve gone and thrown it all awayyyyy,” he sings to the baby blue skies dotted with clouds, adamantly strumming an invisible guitar. He echoes your laugh that flies between the two of you, joining the robins and starlings flitting between the trees. “Knew I picked a good one, she’s got a good arm and a bloody good taste in music. Ya betta play Take On Me next, or all bets are off.”

“Oh, you know that I will. It feels like an eighties night, playing catch in the backyard during the summer. It’s just like when I was little,” you note aloud, jogging to the right to catch his next throw until it falls into your glove. 

“‘Bout tha same fer me, just with footy, think this ‘s how ‘d like t’ spend my summers still . . I loved it so much, playin’ in tha backyard listenin’ t’ tha radio, and think my kids would too,” he says casually, sparking a blush in your cheeks at the mention of him as a father. Oh, what you would do to be able to see him playing catch with a little dark-haired boy or girl who calls him ‘Daddy.’ 

Fuck me, you think hastily. 

Quickly, your shared favorite part of the song comes and he imitates the guitar shredding while you repeatedly toss the ball into your mitt, watching him. 

“But eva since I watched Wayne’s World as a kid, I can’t avoid bangin’ my head when it gets t’ this part,” Harry chuckles, tossing a pop fly towards the overhang of tree branches. “I love tha trees here, ya know, ‘ve neva seen so many.” 

“Me too, I love that part in the movie, and I love them too. It’s crazy to think how long they’ve been around to get this big. Some of them were as tall as I am now when I was little.”

“Huh,” he hums curiously, shooting into the air to grab a high one you tried to trick him with. Your eyes can’t help but wander to his dark fern tattoos that peek out when his shirt rises. “Ya think I should keep it still, or get rid o’ it?” Harry poses to you, puckering his lips at you with a mischievous grin. 

“You almost remind me of Freddie Mercury with that ‘stache,” you say, the laugh growing from somewhere deep inside of you. He shrugs his shoulders and tosses a fast one back to you, hitting your glove square in the center with a heavy slap! 

“Dunno why ya think that’s such a good joke, ‘s a damn compliment, if ya ask me.” 

“Uh oh, are we getting a big head over there because you’ve caught my last three throws?” you joke, watching the ball soar high into the air amongst the green covering of the trees. 

“Hey, be easy on me,” he pouts, his words disagreeing with his actions that send a hot fastball into your palm. 

“Why? You’re never easy on me when we play Mario Kart or Cribbage.” 

“Hey! You don’t have a bleedin’ nearly professional career in any o’ those!” he protests and then curses when your curveball nicks the tip of his glove. 

“So, and neither do you, and you’re still aggressive as fuck when we play them! Huh, what’s your excuse, Harry?” 

“Galileo!” he calls out. 

“Galileo!” you echo, and the rest follow suit between the two of you as the song plays. 

“‘m just a poor boyyyyy, nobody loves me,” he sings loudly, causing you to cough on your drink that you take a swig from. 

“Keep telling yourself that,” you shoot back, setting down the wet can as he approaches you. 

“But I am,” he whines, pushing out his bottom lip that you flick with your finger. 

“Watch it!” 

“Or what?” you counter, savoring the annoyed expression that soon fills his features. There’s just something about pushing his buttons that gets you going, even though you know that you shouldn’t do it. 

“Or else I won’t bloody learn tha rest o’ Blackbird on guitar fer you,” he retorts playfully, taking a long pull from his bottle. 

Now, it’s your turn to shout ‘hey!’ until he scoops you into his arms, your surprised shriek piercing the sky. 

“You better finish learning it! But, I think that I like Freddie better.”

“How? Paul ‘s far betta. ‘ll always love Queen, and The Beatles don’t have anythin’ on Bohemian Rhapsody, but Paul ‘s tha betta musician. Trust me, I should know,” he disagrees, pecking your temple before pulling away and tossing the ball into your waiting glove. 

“But, Freddie had a four octave range.”

“And? So does Paul,” Harry shrugs, raising his left arm in the air to snag your fastpitch that he almost loses. “Paul McCartney ‘s tha superior musician, just trust me on this.” 

“Paul McCartney has nothing on Freddie Mercury,” a voice pipes up, turning the both of your heads to the right where you find your dad stepping out of the garage with a weathered black baseball glove snug upon his right hand. 

You swear that you could hear Harry’s apprehensive gulp from all of the way over here, and when you look, you find his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. 

“But Paul was betta on guitar, bass, and drums,” Harry argues, nervously tossing the ball into his glove repeatedly. 

Your dad closes the door behind him softly, and steps out on the grass, adjusting his glasses. Surprise is absent from your range of emotions when your dad shrugs his shoulders, but you’re sure that it coats Harry’s insides in the next few moments. 

“You’re right there, I like somebody who can stand up for their argument,” he comments, nodding a head towards Harry who out of the corner of your eye is smiling, just the slightest. “I think I might like this one,” he says to you, holding out his glove towards Harry, with his lips curling into his cheeks. 

The smile on your boyfriend’s face almost matches that of your father’s, but he’s got nothing on the grin plastered across Harry’s face because of your next words. 

“I think I do, too, Dad.”

[angryinternetduck]

Sunshine

4.6k words exactly on a glowing fem!reader and Harry Styles finally realizing they're more than friends. A few bad words but no other warnings I can think of. Happy reading!!!

Harry always said that you glowed. 

He liked to say you were a star: in your actions, in your words, in your very being. He loved to gush compliments over you, drowning you in sweet words and affectionate touches and letting you know just how much he loved you. And sure, most of that took place while he was drunk, but hey - drunk words are sober thoughts, right? 

Either way, he sure did compare you to a star a lot when he was drunk, and after a while, it even carried over to sober words too when he gave you the nickname of Sunshine. And, despite your tendency to complain and correct him, you weren’t too mad about it. 

You’d met him at a bar, late one night after a particularly messy breakup. He’d been positively hammered, and had approached you with the weakest pick up line you’d ever heard in your entire life. 

“You, darling,” he’d slurred confidently, “light up my world… like… like nobody else.” 

“Really?” you’d replied, just as drunk. “Is that so?” 

“That’s so,” he’d said. He bopped your nose. “Right sunshine, you are.” 

The whole night was a blur of bad jokes and aggressive flirting that never actually went anywhere. That’s what you always assumed, anyway, because you’d woken up the next morning alone in your bed with only a killer headache and his number in your cell. 

It took you two weeks to call him, and, a bit tipsy, you’d given him your address and offered a night in. You had a few ideas in mind, ones that included quite a different morning after than the previous time you’d seen him, but him coming over in the softest blue jumper you’d ever seen and carrying bags of Chinese take away was not on the list. 

“Tell me, Sunshine,” he’d said by way of greeting, “do you have anything fun to drink?” 

“Plenty of Capri Sun,” you’d answered. 

“Well,” Harry laughed, “with Capri Sun and take away, how could we go wrong?” 

That morning after was, technically, quite different than the last, but - again - not in the way you’d expected. You’d traded favorite movies, talking over every scene of Love Actually with snarky commentary and shushing him when he tried to do the same with yours, and fell asleep on the couch hours after the sun rose. 

Another drunken night brought another drunken phone call, and another and another, until the phone calls became sober and the random drunken nights became consistent Friday afternoons. You were making a decent headway on classic movies - movies the two of you deemed classic, anyway - and celebrated the first anniversary of your meeting at the bar where you’d met. 

It was that night, one year since you’d met Harry Styles, staring at your ceiling fan and listening to him snore, that you’d realized two things at once. One, that you hadn’t dated anyone in a year, and two, that you didn’t care - you were perfectly content as it was. And, you’d thought vaguely, Harry had never mentioned a girlfriend, either. 

Strange. 

☀️☀️☀️                                  

That lasted another month, and then you met your boyfriend. 

His name was Oliver, and he was sweet. Smart. Cute. You really liked him. Of course you did. You’d met him at some party and hit it off almost immediately, and he took you out to dinner a few days after you met. He brought you flowers, and paid for the meal, and at the end of the night, he gave you a soft kiss on the cheek. 

Harry was a bit skeptical about the lad, and he wasn’t afraid to voice his concerns. 

“Sounds like a prick,” he’d said casually, mouth full of popcorn, when you’d told him all about your new boyfriend and his various hopes and dreams. Your jaw dropped. “What?” you’d said incredulously. 

“Dunno,” Harry replied. “Just giving me the wrong vibes.” 

And, when you’d shown him a picture, all he had to say was, “Those shoes are weird.”

You only scoffed, and he shrugged, looking at you like you were the one who was crazy. “What?” he said. “Can’t have a man without a fashion sense - don’t want him to be buying you rubbish gifts, hm?” 

Despite all the slander, Harry had been adamant about meeting him.

“I need to meet this guy, Sunshine,” he’d insisted. 

“Yeah, sure,” was your constant reply, “maybe some time.” 

But for some reason, you’d procrastinated with the whole meetup thing. You weren’t quite sure of the exact reason why, although Harry’s skepticism on him probably didn’t help. Harry finally took it into his own hands and sent him a message on Instagram, which led to a very strange, awkward movie night. 

“He seems nice,” Oliver said at the end of the night as he walked you home, and you nodded. “Mhm,” you hummed softly. “I don’t know about his taste in movies, though,” he’d gone on with a teasing smile, nudging your shoulder with his own. “Ten Things I Hate About You? A bit sappy, huh?” 

You laughed a bit, shrugging your shoulders. “Yeah, he’s a… sappy guy.” 

The conversation fizzled out after that, but it was a comfortable silence, and you didn’t mind too much. You seemed to have a lot of comfortable silence with him. He walked you home, and kissed you goodnight, and never came to another movie night again. 

☀️☀️☀️

“Heya!” you exclaimed as Harry opened the door of his flat, already scooting past him before he’d stepped back. “Hey, Sunny,” Harry replied, and you corrected him with your name as you plopped four bags of take away on his table. 

“Did you invite somebody?” Harry asked, and you frowned. “What?” 

Harry grinned, nodding at the food. “That’s food enough for four, love.” 

You stuck your tongue out at him and kept taking boxes out of the bags. “I’m just doing my duties,” you told him. “You’re a growing boy, Styles.” Harry raised an eyebrow. “Growing horizontally if you keep this up, Sunshine.” 

You handed him a pair of chopsticks. “So have at it, growing-horizontally boy.” 

“If you insist.”

You collapsed on the couch next to him with a box of lo maine, but when he didn’t say anything and just stared thoughtfully at his food, you asked, “Penny for your thoughts?” He glanced at you, and smiled. “I found a girl,” he said.

Your jaw dropped, your eyes going comically wide. “You found a girl?” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Don’t sound so surprised.” 

“Well, fuck, H, my bad, but it’s been so long I -” You cut yourself off when Harry shot you a glare. A beat of silence, and then, still grinning, you dragged out, “Soooooooooooo…” and asked, “What’s her name?” Harry smiled. “Astrid.” 

“Astrid,” you echoed, pulling a face. “Sounds like a pink haired anime character.” 

“You don’t even watch anime,” Harry muttered. 

“Still,” you said. “Is she nice? What’s she look like? If she has pink hair I’m gonna -” 

“She’s blonde, Sunny,” Harry interrupted, ignoring your glare at the nickname. “And she’s very nice. Proper smart, too - going to med school at the mo’.” You pursed your lips. “Sounds snobby.” 

“She’s not.” 

You shrugged, spinning noodles round your fork. “Where’d you meet her?” 

Harry hesitated, and then, “Starbucks.” 

You paused, looked up at him, raised a brow. “Starbucks?” 

“Yeah. She’s barista-ing ‘till she gets her degree.” 

“When’s your date?” 

Harry hesitated, again, and told her, “Last night.” 

You scoffed. “Last night?” 

“Woulda gone to a pet store if I wanted a parrot, Sunshine.” 

“Sunshine, my ass!” you exclaimed. “When’d you meet her?” 

“Monday.”

“Monday?” you practically shrieked, talking over him when he murmured something about parrots and asking, “And you didn’t tell me this Wednesday because?” Harry shrugged. “Didn’t wanta tell you ‘bout something that would go south.” 

A pause. “So it went north?” 

Harry grinned. “To the stars, Sunny, she’s wonderful.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, really, she’s amazing.” 

A pause, again, and Harry glanced over at you, and you were smiling, just a bit, and Harry raised an eyebrow. “You’re looking at me funny, Sunshine.” You shrugged. “It’s just weird, is all.” You frowned. “When was the last time you went on a date?” 

Harry flushed. “Not important.” 

“Riiiiight,” you laughed, nudging him with your elbow. You settled against the couch, twirling noodles around your fork before slurping a noodle into your mouth. “So,” you went on, running your tongue over your lips, “tell me about it!” 

“What?” Harry asked distractedly, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. 

“The date, moron.” 

Harry’s smile faded, and he shrugged, his enthusiasm suddenly lost. He looked at his food. “Erm - it was good. She’s brilliant.” You laughed, prodding him with your foot. “Gotta give me more than that, Styles. What happened to ‘to the stars’?” 

“She’s really into astrology,” Harry mumbled. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Hm.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re not giving her a chance.” 

“You’re not giving me a proper picture!” you insisted. “Give me details, dude, c’mon.” 

He bit his lip, studying you for a second before looking away. “She’s… she’s perfect, Sunny. She just - she glows. And she’s so funny. She always knows what to say, too, like she can read my mind. And Christ, Sunshine, she’s gorgeous. Her smile’s brighter than the sun and…” He looked up, meeting your gaze with a lopsided smile. “And she’s got the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen,” he finished, his voice going quiet. 

“That’s more like it!” you cheered. “Maybe I’ll give this girl a chance!” 

“Yeah,” he said softly. 

“Where’d you guys go?” 

“Some little restaurant by the river…” 

“Ooh, by the river - you walked with her, right? All romantic?” 

Harry nodded. “Mhm. Saw some stars, too. 

You snickered. “Did she tell you your future from the constellations?” 

Harry groaned, tossing a pillow at you. “Stop itttt,” he dragged. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you giggled, “please continue.” 

“It was fantastic. She -” 

“Wait a minute,” you interrupted. “Wait a minute, you called me this morning. At, like, eight o’clock!” Harry nodded. “Yup,” he said, and you frowned. “So you… didn’t get laid?” Harry scoffed. “Mr. Checkered Shoes over there didn’t shag you the first date, now did he?” 

“Yeah, well, he’s a gentleman, and you’re a dick, so -” 

“I am not!” Harry exclaimed. He smiled smugly. “Ask Astrid.” 

“Oh, I will,” you replied, just as smugly. “Wanna invite her over for a movie night?” 

“Abso -” He paused, frowning slightly. “Maybe later.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “Later, huh? Should I send her a dm?” 

“Don’t even think about it,” Harry warned, and you laughed.“Sure, sure,” you told him, wondering what a girl named Astrid would have as her Instagram handle and whether or not she’d reply to a perfect stranger’s message. 

☀️☀️☀️

Harry missed the next week’s movie night because of Astrid. 

You didn’t mind. 

You’d been wanting to spend more time with your boyfriend, anyway. 

And if you kept your phone by your side the whole night through, waiting for a heartbroken text from Harry saying it didn’t quite work out with Astrid the pink haired barista, nobody had to know. 

☀️☀️☀️

Astrid’s timing was perfect. She met Harry Styles at the end of January, on a cold winter’s day just begging for a warm cup of coffee. She wasn’t even supposed to be there that day; she was supposed to take off, but the guy who was supposed to cover for her couldn’t make it because of the snow. She’d never been more miserable to live walking distance from her work than that morning. 

Her mood had lifted, however, when a new face had stepped into the coffee shop. A new, dangerously gorgeous face that was grinning a swoon-worthy smile down at his cell phone when he walked in. Astrid didn’t even get annoyed when he took a call in line. Hearing him greet somebody named Sunshine with that deep, accented voice of his practically made her melt on the spot. 

She felt a bit of a twinge when the man said the name of the person he was talking to, which sounded a bit feminine, but didn’t think on it too much. She managed to take his order and hand him his coffee without making a fool of herself, and the worrying started after he walked out the door. 

He called the girl on the phone darling. And Sunshine. Who nicknames a friend or sister Sunshine? And the way he was grinning while he was talking to that girl - there’s no way that much fondness could be for a friend. He looked like he was walking on… well, sunshine, as he talked, and that laugh… 

Well. 

So her hopes fizzled out, and she was certain that was the last she’d see of him. 

Until the next day, when he came back. 

And this time, since Astrid wasn’t even worried about impressing a potential boyfriend, they actually had a conversation. His name was Harry, she learned that day, and he was the dorkiest, funniest man she’d ever met. Even just after a two minute conversation, Astrid wanted to be friends with this guy. 

The next day, Astrid learned something even more interesting. Surprisingly, it turned out that that Sunshine girl really was just a friend, and Astrid had a date with this Harry guy that Thursday night. 

The date went magnificently (of course), and he asked her out again the next week. He was like something out of a fairy tale, this guy, and Astrid was absolutely charmed. She just couldn’t wait to see him again. 

☀️☀️☀️

Oliver broke up with you. 

It came out of nowhere, a whispered, “I think we should take a break,” after a night out, and despite everything, you were upset. It was just weird not having him around. He was one of those guys that gave you good morning and goodnight texts and called you every night (except Fridays) just to see how you were doing. 

He was pretty much the perfect boyfriend, and all you could think was that it was your fault. You just were never really into him. You loved him as a friend, but he just didn’t seem like boyfriend material. You never felt that connection. 

So really, all you could do was be thankful that he’d been so civil about the break up. He hadn’t seemed too angry about anything, hadn’t made a whole big scene, just did it quietly and politely and told you he hoped you could still be friends. 

Which you couldn’t be, kind of, but at least the thought was there. 

Regardless, you were a single woman once again, and you had a best friend to rant to. 

☀️☀️☀️

That best friend you were supposed to rant to was MIA. 

The week before was fine. You understood. He wanted to be with Astrid, he had a girlfriend, whatever. And really, this week shouldn’t be any different, since - as far as you knew, anyway - the girlfriend situation was still the same. 

Only difference was that he told you. 

The week before, he’d sent you an emoji laden text message apologizing profusely for the fact that he wouldn’t be able to make it. This week was radio silence. After spamming his phone with text messages and calling four or five times, you’d pretty much given up. You were waiting in your apartment, forty minutes after he was supposed to come, and feeling like a loser with a capital L. 

After an hour of boredom and no Harry, you decided to take things into your own hands. He’d probably forgotten (not that he’d forgotten once in all the weeks you’d been doing this) and was sitting at home, scrolling through Twitter or playing the guitar or doing whatever Harry Styles did with his free time. 

So you got into your car, and drove.

☀️☀️☀️

Harry grinned when he finally shifted his key right in the door, and he pushed it open as Astrid giggled and pushed him back against it, closing it again, kissing him like there was no tomorrow. Harry kissed her back and tried not to think about how her perfume was just a bit too strong, or how she was being just a tad too aggressive with her tongue, or how he didn’t really want to go anywhere past a bit of a snog but she didn’t seem to be on the same page. 

Vaguely, Harry realized the light was on, and then slightly less vaguely, he realized he hadn’t left them on, and then not vaguely at all, he heard a clink and realized there was somebody else in his flat. 

He pulled away from Astrid, who whined and tried to pull him back, and turned around to see you sat on his sofa with a bowl of cereal and a pair of earbuds. Harry groaned and muttered, “One sec,” to Astrid before walking over to you and pulling the earbuds out of your ears. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he hissed. 

“Eating cereal,” you replied all too casually, holding up your bowl. 

“Fuck’s sake, you’re not supposed to be here!” 

You sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, but -” 

Harry groaned your name, shaking his head. “No, no, no, you can’t just do this! You -” 

“You know what? You didn’t show up!” you interrupted. “You didn’t show up, and ignored all my texts, and Olly broke up with me, and I was sad!” You scowled. “I was sad, and I thought you’d be here, and I wouldn’t have come over if you’d just” - you glanced behind him at Astrid who was still standing by the door - “told me you had a date!”

Harry paused. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and shook his head. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I just -” 

“Hey, Harry?” Astrid cut in from the door. “I think I’m gonna… take off…” 

“No!” Harry exclaimed, spinning around. “No, no, she’s leaving! We can -” 

Astrid gave an awkward laugh and shook her head. “It’s fine. I’ll see you later, Styles.” 

She left, and Harry felt a bit of shame for the flash of relief he felt. He sighed and turned to you. “Happy?” he asked. You scoffed. “Happy?” you echoed. “What, you think I did this on purpose?” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “You never come in unless I’m here too.” 

“That’s not true.” 

Harry pursed his lips, grabbing a bowl from the cabinet and pouring himself some cereal from the bag you’d so thoughtfully neglected to put back in the cabinet. He poured some milk and grabbed a spoon, and sat on the sofa next to you. “Look,” he said. “I’m sorry about Olly, alright? I just wish you would text me before coming over.” 

“Never told me to before,” you grumbled. “Well, now I have a girlfriend,” Harry snapped, and then frowned, looking at the door a bit forlornly. “I did, anyway, although I’m not so sure she’ll come back after -” 

“You guys’ll be fine, H, calm down,” you interrupted, rolling your eyes as you chased a fruit loop around your bowl. “You’re too damn pretty to be dumped ‘cause of - what, a failed hook up session?” 

Harry didn’t reply, and you looked up. He was smiling at you. Looked almost smug. 

You frowned. “What?” 

“You called me pretty.” 

You groaned and tossed a pillow at him, which he dodged, but not without spilling a splash of milk onto the couch. “Please,” you muttered. “Have some dignity.” Harry smirked. “Oh, I’ve plenty of dignity, ‘specially after the first compliment I’ve gotten from you in years.” 

“Oh, please!” you said again. “That’s just not fair.”

There was a beat of silence before Harry cleared his throat. “So, Oliver broke up with you?” You shrugged. “Yeah.” Harry nudged your foot with his. “‘m sorry,” he murmured, and you shrugged again. “Yeah,” you repeated. 

“Do you want to… talk about it?” Harry asked hesitantly. 

You shook your head. “Not really.” 

“Wanna watch a movie?” 

“Sure.” 

You stirred your milk around your bowl, deep in thought, as Harry flicked on the TV and found a movie, but you looked up when you heard the beginnings of your favorite movie. You smiled, glancing over at Harry. “Thanks, H,” you said softly. 

Harry grinned, putting an arm around your shoulders. “‘f course, Sunshine.” 

☀️☀️☀️

“Astrid broke up with me,” Harry announced as he walked into your apartment. 

You looked up from your couch, startled. It was only two days after you’d interrupted their date, and you’d been watching a TV show before he’d walked in. “Wow,” you replied, unsure what to say. “Um… I’m sorry, H.” 

“Yeah,” he said, standing in front of you with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket. He gave a lopsided smile. “Guess I’m not too pretty to be broken up with, hm?” You laughed a bit uneasily. “Yeah, yeah, I guess not. Are you… okay?” 

“I dunno. But I - I want to get out of here.” 

You frowned. “And go… where?” 

“Dunno,” he repeated, shrugging slightly. 

“Well…” 

“Christ, Sunny, c’mon,” Harry laughed, green eyes bright as he pulled you up and gently pulled you towards the door. You raised an eyebrow but let him lead you outside and into his car. “Are you sure you’re okay?” you asked as you slid into the passenger seat. 

“I’m fine, Sunshine. Just wanta drive. Want some music?” he asked, already pulling out his phone. He clicked around for a second, making you frown and mutter, “If we get pulled over…” 

Finally, he picked a song, and when the music poured through his speakers, you felt yourself smile as you recognized your favorite song. Harry grinned, poking you and making you giggle as he screamed out the lyrics. 

Before you knew it, you were laughing and mumbling along with the song, and you were almost disappointed when the car slowed and Harry turned off the engine. You hadn’t even thought about where he’d been taking you, and you were surprised to step out of the car and onto soft grass. 

You were looking up at some trees, feeling a bit intimidated by their enormous branches that towered over you in the dark night. The moon was barely visible through the leaves, and something about the whole scene felt a bit ominous. 

You jumped when Harry gently touched your arm. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, giving you a lopsided smile as his hand slid down to meet yours. You shivered in the cool air, letting Harry guide you through the trees. “If your way of cheering yourself up after a breakup is murdering me in a forest,” you began softly, and Harry grinned, nudging your shoulder with his. “Shoulda frisked me, Sunshine.” 

You looked up to meet his eye, smiling despite yourself. “Maybe later.” 

There was a beat of silence, and then Harry looked away. You continued to walk with him in silence, trying not to stress too much over the fact that you were walking hand in hand with him at night. 

Your breath caught as you came to a clearing, and you felt Harry grinning as he watched your reaction. He’d brought you to a small clearing in the woods, and the scene was nothing less than magical. 

The moon shone down onto the leafy ground, sparkling on the little stream that ran through the shrubs and bushes. Butterflies floated gracefully around the blooming flowers that rose from the grass, their wings iridescent in the light of the moon. Instead of ominous, the scene was calming, the humming of the insects comforting rather than scary. 

“‘s pretty, isn’t it?” Harry said quietly. 

“It’s gorgeous.” 

He sat down in the grass, and you looked at him skeptically. “Is it wet?” 

He shrugged. “Nah.” 

“I’ll bite you if you’re lying,” you said. 

“Is that a threat or a promise?” he said back, smirking at you. 

“Christ,” you muttered, crouching down next to him a bit hesitantly before deeming it appropriately dry and plopping down next to him. “So, uh… do you want to talk about it?” you asked after a moment of quiet. 

He shook his head. “No, I… I don’t.” 

You let your gaze linger on his face even as he looked away, and then sighed and asked, “How’d you even find this place?” Harry shrugged. “Dunno.” You grinned, nudging him with your shoulder. “Are you walking alone in the woods a lot, H?” you said teasingly. “Should I be worried?” 

“Only for yourself,” he told you with a smirk. 

You frowned. “What the hell does that mean?” 

Harry grinned at you and leaned in, giving you a whiff of sweet cologne and mint. “You forgot to frisk me, Sunny,” he said lowly, and he was so close that you were momentarily flustered before you laughed and gently pushed him away from you. 

Silence came back, settling comfortably between the two of you, and after a minute, you yawned, resting your head on his shoulder. “This is nice,” you murmured. Harry nodded. “Yeah,” he said. 

You looked up, keeping your chin on his shoulder. He looked positively ethereal, his profile glowing in the soft moonlight. He glanced at you after a second and smiled a bit. “You’re staring, Sunshine.” 

“Did you really like Astrid?” you whispered. 

His smile faded. “What kind of question is that?” 

“You, um… Well, you’re awful chirpy for someone who just got broken up with.” 

He looked down. “I dunno.” 

“Don’t think you’ve ever had a serious girlfriend since I’ve known you.”

He still didn’t meet your eye. “Just haven’t found the right girl yet.” 

A beat of silence, and then you spoke, your voice coming out barely a whisper. 

“Are you sure?” 

That was when he looked at you. 

“No,” he said. 

You sat up, swallowing thickly. “Hey, H?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can I kiss you?” 

A slow smile grew on Harry’s face. “Yeah,” he murmured. 

It was like a dam broke, then, and everything came rushing out, because you felt like you’d about die if you didn’t kiss him that very second. So you did. You kissed him, and the world stopped, and everything felt like it went frozen. 

Time came to a grinding halt as your lips met his, and you swore you stopped breathing. 

And then Harry pulled back. He was grinning. “Yeah,” he laughed, and you shifted into his lap as he kissed you again, and that was when the world slammed back into motion. It was a damn Disney movie in your mind, the world spinning around the two of you as butterflies appeared out of nowhere and blue birds flew in dizzying circles around your head. 

You were both laughing, smiling against each other as you kissed each other breathless. 

You never ever wanted to leave his side again. 

☀️☀️☀️

Harry always says that you glow. 

He likes to say you’re a star; in your actions, in your words, in your very being. He loves to gush compliments over you, drowning you in sweet words and affectionate touches and letting you know just how much he loves you. And sure, most of that takes place through drowsy giggles in the wee hours of the morning, but hey - still counts, right? 

Either way, he sure does compare you to a star a lot, but at least now you can prove it to him. Now, you can kiss him back and drown him in sweet words and affectionate touches. Now, you can whisper I love yous as he presses featherlight kisses against your cheeks and eyelashes. Now, you can hold him and love him and do whatever you damn well please, because now, you’re not just any sunshine - you’re his Sunshine. 

☀️☀️☀️

la fin ❤️

thanks for reading!!!

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