#fifth drawing was an inside joke w my friend

[lipgloss3ater]

franks i drew today

[tulsa-trash]

Book Swap

Request: could you do a modern!pony x reader imagine where you're both in 9th grade and meet at the library, and one day you finally have the guts to ask for his number, so you guys start texting and then you start crushing on him and then you have to figure out how to tell him, so u ask two-bit and johnny for advice

WARNING(S): N/A

You sighed deeply as you began to reread the same sentence in your book for what felt like the twentieth time. It seemed as though you were reading but not even comprehending the words. To be fair, it was impossible to get lost in a book when a familiar cute boy was sitting a table over from you.

Ponyboy Curtis. How does one even begin to describe the amazing human you had the honor of being within five feet of? Unlike most guys in high school, Pony was something special. He was kind and very smart, you knew this because you have English with him. You've never seen someone so into a class before, he also appeared to have an interest in literature, like you. The both of you were nothing but mere acquaintances, and you secretly wished you could change that.

It didn't help that you found him absolutely dreamy. His brown hair was always a little messy, but it still managed to make him even cuter. You always feel your heart skip a beat whenever your eyes would meet his sparkling green ones in the hallways. You'd smile whenever you'd see him laughing with his friends, it showed off his dimples that sunk into his cheeks. Ponyboy Curtis was the boy of your dreams, and the young man was completely oblivious.

Your phone vibrated on the desk you were sitting at. Glancing up from your book, you seen that it was a text from one of your friends. After placing your bookmark in between the pages you unlocked your phone.

Evie: So? Did you talk to him yet?

You rolled your eyes after reading the message, your fingers quickly tapped at the screen as you typed your response.

Y/N: No obviously not. Now leave me alone.

Kathy: Girl go for it! He's a nice kid you said so yourself.

Y/N: Uh nope. Much rather stare at him from afar and not make a fool of myself attempting to talk to him.

Kathy: Well if you don't not only will I embarrass you in front of lover boy, everyone in this library will see me screaming at you and we'll both probably get kicked out.

Y/N: Wait what? How do you know I'm at the library?? Are you here right now???

Kathy: Look over at the fantasy section you nerd. You being you I obviously knew where YOU would be on a Saturday afternoon.

You looked up, eyes widening in shock as you saw your friend hiding behind a bookshelf watching you with a sly grin.

Kathy: Make a move now or I'm coming over there.

With already shaking hands you put your phone in your pocket and grabbed your book. You sent Kathy a pleading look, but all she did was shake her head and point towards Ponyboy violently. Taking in a deep breath, you got up. The chair scraped against the floor, creating a loud noise which made at least five people look up at you... including him.

"Oh god." You mumbled under your breath.

In your peripheral vision you could see Ponyboy's gaze return to his book, taking that as your cue to move you slowly crept to his table. You had made it to the chair directly across from him, he was so caught up in his book he didn't even notice your presence. You smiled softly, his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration while his eyes scanned the pages back and forth. You awkwardly cleared your throat, not too loud to disturb others but just enough for him to tear his attention from his book to notice you.

"Oh, hey." Ponyboy said, "Can I help you with somethin'?"

"Um..." Jesus this was going to be way harder than you thought. "W-Would you mind if I sat with ya?"

"Not at all. Go ahead." He sent you a friendly smile as he gestured to the chair you were at.

His smile. Your legs already feel like jello, you could've sworn you were going to collapse right then in there.

"Y/N, right?" He asked as you sat down.

"That's me. And you're Ponyboy."

"Yep, couldn't forget a name like that if you tried." He joked.

You giggled as you opened your book, Ponyboy returned to his. Curiosity got the better of you when you looked back up to see what he was reading.

"Gone With the Wind." You read aloud.

"Have you read it before?" He asked.

You shook your head, "I haven't, but I've heard only good things about it. I saw the movie about a year ago and thought it was great."

"The book is amazing!" He gushed, only to be shushed by the librarian walking by. "This is my fifth time reading it." He told you in a more hushed tone.

You snickered, "Must be really great."

"What ya got there?"

You lifted up your book from the table to reveal the cover to him, his bright eyes scanned the cover.

"The Boy in Striped Pajamas?"

"I know the title seems a bit odd, but trust me this is a good read." You told him, "This being my third time reading it."

"Well what's it about?" He asked.

You went on to tell him about your book, and he went on to tell you all about his. The both of you began to talk about anything and everything, you were beyond happy that things were going well. You were having so much fun you completely forgot about Kathy spying on you, before either of you could realize it two hours had gone by.

You peaked at your phone and cursed under your breath, the lock screen had a reminder that your shift at work was starting in less than thirty minutes.

"I really hate to end this... but I gotta go." You said.

"That sucks." He said disappointedly.

You couldn't help feeling a little giddy inside to see that he was upset you were leaving. While you got up and gathered your things, you remembered that you wanted to get his phone number badly. You just had to figure out a way to get it without making things awkward.

"Hey, Pone?"

He hummed in response.

"What do ya say we swap books... and numbers? Thats only if you want to. I just figured since we read them already and it was cool talk--"

"I'd like that." He stopped your rambling, only to send you a warm smile while doing so.

You blushed as the both of you swapped phones to put in each others information along with handing each other your books. With a final wave goodbye you left the library, your best friend of course followed after you. She interrogated you with thousands of questions and the both of you walked to work, you gladly answered them all in an almost dazed state. You felt as if you were walking on air for the rest of the day, and you couldn't wait to text him later on.

-

Two weeks had gone by, and let's just say those two weeks have been the best ones of your life. You and Ponyboy had been texting every single day. At first you just talked about each other's books, but then your conversations started evolve to anything and everything. You knew you had liked him before, but your feelings for him have grown drastically. It was beginning to get unbearable holding in how you truly felt, and you weren't sure if you wanted to tell him.

The fear of rejection was one of the main reasons why you've been thinking of just repressing your feelings. Sure, he seemed to like you, but it felt as though he only liked you simply as a friend. Another reason being you were afraid that it would ruin things between the both of you. You had finally become good friends, the last thing you wanted was for everything to end up being awkward all because of you and your silly crush.

After a lot of thinking you decided you needed some advice, and by advice you mean advice thats not only from Kathy. She keeps telling you to go for it, but she doesn't really know Ponyboy well. That's why you got the idea to ask one of his buddies on their opinion. Luckily Pony invited you to watch him and his friends play football. You ceased the opportunity, not only would you be able to watch the boy of your dreams get all sweaty and tuff looking, you could also get one of his friends alone to talk about how you felt.

It was a warm, Sunday morning in Tulsa. The sun was high in the sky and beat down harshly on the group of boys tackling each other in the giant field. You sat under a tree with a notebook in your lap, a cool breeze would rush by every now and then, cooling you off the slightest. You doodled randomness on the blank pages, sketching pictures and honing your writing skills. Every now and then you would glance up and watch the game for a few, sometimes cheering the boys on or laughing when they began to goof off and wrestle each other on the ground.

There was a particular drawing you found yourself enthralled in, as the pencil in your hand smoothly ran across the paper you found yourself sketching a picture of Ponyboy's face. You were so focused you didn't even notice someone come over and take a seat right beside you.

"Nice drawin' you got there." A quiet voice spoke.

You quickly slammed the notebook closed and snapped you head to the right, it was Ponyboy's best friend, Johnny. A tiny smirk was tugging at his lips as he looked at you with one eyebrow raised.

"T-Thanks." You stuttered nervously.

"You like him, huh?" He asked you.

You stood silent as you played with the grass below you, pulling it from the Earth and rubbing it between your fingers. Your gaze was straight ahead watching the game, you were afraid to meet Johnny's gaze that was burning holes into the side of your head.

"Yes..." You hesitated a bit, "I do."

"Does he know?"

"No!" You said hopelessly, "And I'm not sure if I even want him to know."

"Why not?"

"Because he probably doesn't feel the same..." You trailed off.

"Hey now, ya never know." Johnny said.

"What are you two kiddies doin' over here?" A loud voice bellowed.

It was none other than Two-Bit, he staggered over to the both of you before plopping down to your left. He was breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his forehead and trickling down his neck.

"You tryin' to make moves on Pony's girl or somethin', John?" Two asked playfully.

Your heart fluttered, 'Pony's girl.'

"No way, man. Trust me." Johnny chuckled.

"Pony's girl?" You repeated to him questioningly.

"Oh yeah! I see the way y'all look at each other I ain't blind."

You let Two's words sink in, was it that obvious that you liked him? He even said that Pony looks at you a certain way as well. Maybe there was a chance he shared your feelings after all.

"You think he likes me or somethin'?" You asked casually.

"Oh I don't think, I know."

You smiled softly, butterflies erupting in your stomach. In the back of your mind you worried that you were getting your hopes up a little too high, but you couldn't help it.

"I like him too." You admitted.

Two-Bit scoffed, "Tell me somethin' I don't know."

"Well... what should I do?"

"Tell him." Two replied.

"I agree." Johnny piped up.

Both nerves and excitement began to bubble up inside you as you got up and gathered your things.

"Where are you off to?" Johnny asked as you began to jog away from them.

"Gotta head home. Tell Ponyboy I'm sorry I had to leave but I'll text him later!"

"See ya later lover girl!" Two-Bit hollered after you while preceding to make kissing noises.

You laughed to yourself and shook your head, "Idiot."

-

Y/N: Whats up Pone-bone?

Ponyboy: Nothing much lil lady, and yourself?

Y/N: Same. Btw sorry for leaving so soon today, had some things to do.

Ponyboy: It's alright.

Hey what were you, Johnny and Two talking about? They didn't try to tease you or nothin right?

Y/N: Nooo ofc not they were just chattin

But thats actually what I wanted to talk to you about...

Ponyboy: Well... Go on then

Y/N: Okay I'm just gonna say it

I like you

like a lot

Ponyboy: As a friend or?

Y/N: No silly, like more than friends...

Ponyboy: Wait actually?

Y/N: Yes Pony

Ponyboy: Seriously??

Y/N: OMG YES!!

I LIKE YOU A LOT!

... im sorry if it weirds you out

Ponyboy: NO! NO IT DOESN'T.

SORRY

... Just wanted to make sure this isn't a prank or whatever.

But in all seriousness yes, I like you a whole lot.

Y/N: Are you sure?

Ponyboy: Positive doll

Do you wanna grab some milkshakes at the Dingo next weekend?

Y/N: Are you asking me out onna date Curtis?

Ponyboy: Yes, I am ;)

Y/N: Well I would love to :)

[reyescarlos]

all through the night || a tarlos fic

❄️ @911giftexchange fic for @buckieys ❄️

happy holidays, sy! i'm wishing you a wonderful and prosperous new year. i hope this fic helps to usher in 2021 right!

word count: 5.2k || read on ao3

All through the night I'll be awake and I'll be with you All through the night This precious time when time is new

When Carlos envisioned winter in New York, his elaborate fantasies had somehow managed to eclipse the reality of what it might actually entail. He had enjoyed his brief stay, taking in the window displays along Fifth Avenue. It had long since been something he wanted to see for himself and the storefronts had more than delivered. But on the flipside of such a picturesque scene has come the downside of what heavy amounts of snow could mean.

It’s why he finds himself now planted in a too hard seat at JFK Airport, wondering how he’ll possibly fill his time now that his flight has been delayed until morning. Outside the blizzard rages on with no real end in sight and Carlos mulls over the merits of his decision to leave Texas in the New Year and make this city his home. This is a far cry from Austin. He’d once thought winter temperatures there could be bad but it’s been nothing compared to the arctic blast in the North.

He tries to keep busy with a book but his attention is split between the words before him and the cute guy across from him frantically digging inside his backpack, a phone teetering dangerously on his knee.

“God, where is that stupid thing,” the man mumbles to himself. “Come on charger, where are you?”

Carlos looks away, burying his head in his book to hide the smile that breaks out on his face. The guy is obviously peeved but Carlos can’t help but to find his muttering endearing. After another moment of fruitless searching on the stranger’s end, Carlos takes mercy on him.

“Here, you can borrow mine,” he says, unzipping his own backpack and fishing out his charger.

The man sighs in relief. “Thank you. I really appreciate it,” he replies, reaching over and taking the cord from Carlos.

He settles back and plugs it into the wall, the screen lighting up a moment later. Carlos smiles politely and gets back to reading, only to be interrupted.

“So, I take it you’re heading down to visit family before the new year comes, huh?” the stranger says.

Carlos looks up from his book, head tilting slightly. It hadn’t been expecting the man to strike up a conversation.

“Sorry, awkward small talk. I’ll let you get back to it,” he says, face scrunching as he gestures to the book in Carlos’ hands.

Carlos waves him off, bookmarking his page and closing it.

“No worries. We’re here all night so...plenty of time for that.” He licks his lips and drums his fingers against the front. “To answer your question though, no. Austin is actually my home so I’m just heading back.”

“Oh, cool. I’m going to see my dad. I thought he’d want to do the whole white Christmas, New York for the New Year thing but ever since he moved down to Austin last year, I think he’s gotten spoiled by the warmer weather.”

The man looks out of the window where the snow is swirling so heavily it’s hard to even see the sky or planes sitting idly on the tarmac.

“Guess I can’t exactly blame him.”

Carlos laughs. “It’s disgustingly cold here and all of that,” he says, gesturing to the storm, “doesn’t help. I don’t know how you guys manage.”

“You get used to it. I’ve only ever grown up with it so while I like to complain about the snow at times, I can’t picture this time of year without it. It’s been a few years since it’s been this bad though, I’ll admit.”

Carlos smiles a bit, looking out of the window briefly. “This is actually my first time experiencing snow. And the city was gracious enough to give me a blizzard to commemorate.”

The man smiles at this thoughtfully. He sits up, stretching his hand out across the aisle towards Carlos.

“I’m TK, by the way.”

Carlos touches his fingertips to his forehead before shaking TK’s hand.

“God, my mother would be so ashamed of my manners right now,” he laughs. “I’m Carlos. It’s nice to meet you.”

He lets go, his palm feeling extremely warm from TK’s touch. TK smiles at him, a slow grin that ultimately reveals his teeth. This man is very good looking, there’s no denying that. He’s got an easy way about him that makes Carlos feel comfortable in his presence as if they’re old friends catching up and not perfectly good strangers meeting for the first time.

TK’s phone buzzes, stealing his attention and Carlos is all too grateful for it. TK types something on the device for a few seconds before pausing.

“Sorry, excuse me for a second,” he says, putting his phone to his ear.

Carlos nods and gestures for him to go for it.

“Hey, Dad. I—,” TK starts out but stops short as his father speaks. “I bet it’s all over the news but I’m alright. Not looking forward to being stuck here overnight but,” he continues, his eyes landing on Carlos and away so quickly Carlos is sure he’s imagined it. “I guess there are worse ways to be trapped for a few hours.”

Carlos looks away then, cracking open his book again to keep himself occupied while TK chats with his father. He tries not to dwell heavily on TK’s look or what the implications of that glance could mean. It could’ve been a coincidence and nothing more. All the same, it doesn’t make his heart race any less to think that TK feels a spark too.

TK ends the call with a sigh, stretching out his legs before bouncing one of them. The gesture is distracting but endearing. For the second time, Carlos closes his book, this time putting it back into his bag for good as TK speaks to him again.

“Are you hungry? I could go for a bite.”

“I could eat,” Carlos says. He rises from his seat as TK does, both men dragging their carry-ons along with them.

They follow the winding path down from their gate, Carlos taking notice of all the fellow flyers now forced to wait out the storm. Some have taken to stretching out on the ground, laying on top of jackets like makeshift sleeping bags, others keeping busy with phones and tablets, hunched over in chairs.

Carlos isn’t looking forward to the uncomfortable sleep he’ll have tonight but as he looks over at TK, he wonders just how much rest he’ll actually manage to get. The guy is already proving himself to be a good way to pass the time and Carlos can’t say he wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to keep chatting with him.

As they approach the cluster of food stands, TK groans and it’s easy to see why. Many of the shops are already closed, no doubt the employees hurrying home before the worst of the storm kicked in. All that’s available now is Cinnabon but Carlos supposes that can suffice as dinner.

TK orders a hot chocolate and a classic roll while Carlos opts for a cold brew in addition to a roll as well. TK eyes the drink with raised brows.

“I’m fully committing to the cause of being awake until we board, apparently,” Carlos muses, pushing his straw through the lid and taking a sip. “Worth it.”

The two head to a nearby empty table, settling into their elevated seats before unloading their food. The scent coming off the baked goods is incredible and Carlos’ stomach suddenly feels desperate for a bite.

“So, Carlos, since we’ve nominated each other for the buddy system while we wait this storm out,” he jokes, “Why don’t you tell me more about yourself?”

Carlos drums his fingers on the tabletop as he tries to decide what to share.

“Well, you already know that Austin is where I’m from but the whole reason I’m even here now is because I’m going to be moving to New York soon. I’ll be transferring next month.”

TK’s brows raise. “Seriously? That’s awesome. Do you mind if I ask what you do?”

“I’m a police officer. I’ve been with the Austin Police Department for a few years but I’ve been considering leaving Texas for a little while now and I’ve been exploring my options. For some reason my mind kept coming back to the idea of New York and I figured I should just take the chance and see what happens.”

TK laughs and shakes his head. “Oh man, well, we have something in common, more or less. I’m with the NYFD myself.”

Carlos holds up a hand. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re a firefighter?” he laughs.

TK puffs out his chest jokingly and nods with a grin on his face. “That’s right. Ladder 252.”

Carlos does his best to push the image of TK in uniform from mind but the picture is an appealing one. He can see it so clearly, the way he’d look in suspenders, not to mention full gear. It’s almost unfair just how much hotter the man becomes as if Carlos hasn’t spent this whole time finding him attractive. He picks up his drink again for something to do with his hands, swirling the straw inside of the cup.

“Small world. Outside of my own little bubble, I can’t say I casually meet many people who are first responders. We seem to be a pretty special breed to get into this line of work.”

TK laughs. “I fell into this because of my dad. He’s been a firefighter for years. He, uh, actually was on site during 9/11. I always thought he was incredible but knowing the full scope of what he and so many others did that day and for people in times of crisis, big and small in general, it just made me want to be like him.”

Carlos frowns, unsure of what to even say or think. “Your dad’s a hero.”

“I like to think so.” TK draws in a breath, squaring his shoulders. “Anyway, now he’s kicking ass down in Texas so, even though I miss him as my captain, I know he’s doing great work with his crew down there.”

Curiosity gets the better of Carlos as he asks, “What station is he with?”

“The 126,” TK replies, taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

Carlos’ eyes widen. “Captain Owen Strand is your father?”

It makes sense the longer he looks at TK. Captain Strand is an attractive older guy and TK clearly got handed some solid genes. Still, it throws him for a loop to realize they have a legitimate connection to each other.

TK tilts his head to the side. “You know him? Shit, okay, wow, small world just got a whole hell of a lot smaller.”

“Unbelievable,” Carlos laughs in disbelief. “I don’t know him that well but we work together sometimes on calls. He’s amazing in the field and he’s really turned that station around.”

TK practically beams. “Guess this means we’ll be seeing each other again soon once we finally make it to Austin then.”

“Uh, yeah. I guess so. Assuming you don’t get sick of me before this night is through, that is.”

TK holds Carlos’ gaze for a moment and if it were anyone else, it would be unnerving but something in TK’s stare just sends a thrill through Carlos, excites him in a way no stranger has ever really gotten under his skin.

“I don’t see that happening,” he says plainly, as if this is an irrefutable fact and not something that’s truly subject to change.

Carlos doesn’t argue the point. He merely enjoys the next few hours, seeing just how easily TK’s theory pans out.

~*~*~

The contrast in weather between New York and Austin is one of the first things Carlos’ remarks on as he steps outside of Austin-Bergstrom. He’s never been more grateful for a forty degree afternoon. He’s kept Michelle updated about his new set time and he waits patiently outside of arrivals. Beside him now, TK types out a message on his phone before smiling over at him.

Carlos has had hours to get used to that look on TK’s face and yet he’s still brought up short. Last night and the early morning hours were spent talking to TK about everything imaginable, trading stories about crazy calls they’ve been on and even touching on personal things like their families. When they grew tired of talking, they watched movies on TK’s laptop, fighting off the urge to sleep for the mere sake of hanging out.

It isn’t rare for Carlos to become friendly with a person but this connection to TK feels different in a way he can’t quite parse.

By the time their flight boarded, Carlos knocked out for the entire length of the trip but it had been worth it in his eyes to stay up and take advantage of the uninterrupted time that stretched before him with TK. It was safe to say a bit of a crush had formed, as absurd as Carlos felt for it. TK was going to be in town for the next few days and that prospect was both thrilling and terrifying. If he could feel this close to TK in one night, there’s no telling what could happen in a few days.

Before he can get lost in that thought, Carlos sees Michelle as she pulls up to the curb, the trunk popping open.

“Are you good out here?”

“My dad’s coming in just a minute. I’ll be just fine,” TK muses as Carlos puts his carry-on inside and slams the trunk shut.

“Alright, well. You have my number now so text me whenever you’re free. I’ll show you a few places while you’re here.”

Carlos extends his hand but TK rolls his eyes jokingly and pulls him into a half hug instead.

“We’ve spent the night together, Carlos. I think we’re past handshakes now.”

Carlos’ face burns with TK’s wording but the man merely laughs.

“See you soon?”

Carlos just nods and finds the wherewithal to get inside of Michelle’s car. He waves after he buckles himself in, TK lifting a hand in response.

“Okay, who is that?” Michelle asks immediately, head turned to take in the sight of TK.

Carlos tips his head back against the seat. “You won’t believe the night I’ve had.”

~*~*~

Carlos has spent two days showing TK some of his favorite stomping grounds. TK relished in all that Austin had to offer and Carlos has been happy to see that their closeness from the unexpected overnight at the airport hadn’t been a fluke. If anything, these outings have only made Carlos feel closer to TK.

Michelle has been relentless in her teasing, finding it all too amusing that Carlos managed to cross paths with Captain Strand’s son of all people. She’d clung to his every word during the ride home from the airport as he filled her in on how he waited out the storm.

The 126 meets at their usual bar and Carlos is glad for this post-work gathering. It’s the perfect time to show TK what a real honky-tonk is like, further immersing him in the culture of the state his father now resides.

TK sits next to him at the table, the large group so packed in that his leg presses against Carlos’. It’s light but it’s enough to make the point of contact all Carlos can focus on even as everyone else at the table engages in conversations that overlap, laughing amongst themselves. He does his best to ignore it but it’s difficult not to take notice of each shift TK makes. Michelle keeps looking at him and Carlos, to the best of his abilities, avoids her gaze knowing that it’ll make it just that much more difficult to act as if he isn’t freaking out internally.

“I’m gonna get another. You want anything?” Carlos asks TK.

TK shakes his head. “No, I’m alright but thank you though.”

Carlos nods once and gets up, finding it much easier to breathe already now that he’s no longer sitting beside TK. Michelle catches his eye as he leaves from the table and he can hear her shoes as she follows behind him to the bar. She rests against the counter facing the room at large as Carlos gets the attention of the bartender and asks for another beer.

“You sure know how to pick them,” Michelle laughs at his side.

“Chelle,” he groans, shaking his head.

She merely laughs again, bumping her hip against his. “When did your life become a romantic comedy?”

“I must’ve missed the memo myself because this sure snuck up on me.”

The bartender sets a bottle down in front of him but Carlos doesn’t move. This little reprieve away from everyone but Michelle right now is welcome.

“I like him. He’s nice. Really cute too.”

“Oh, so you’ve noticed?” he deadpans, looking over his shoulder at TK.

He looks so at home here, hanging out and laughing with these people he’s, up until now, only known secondhand from his father’s work stories. TK is personable as ever, Carlos knows all too well. Had he not been swept away after one night in the man’s company?

“I think this is so great.”

“Funny, I think it’s the universe trying to mess with me.”

Michelle scoffs, finally turning to face the bar like him. “There are worse things in the world than a seemingly perfect guy practically falling into your lap. We should all be so lucky.”

Carlos casts the mental image aside, taking a sip of his drink. “The timing though. I can’t think about guys right now. I need to be figuring out my next set of moves for New York.”

“If those plans just so happen to include an attractive new friend…,” she trails off with a grin.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to screw this up because yeah, he is a new friend and we get along well, it’s a good feeling.”

“Do you like him?”

Carlos falters. “I barely even know the guy.”

“That’s not even remotely close to what I asked you.”

Carlos scratches at his forehead before letting out a sigh. “I do. Which hardly makes any sense at all. It’s only been a few days and yet I can’t stop thinking about him. That’s strange, isn’t it?”

Michelle shakes her head. “No, actually. I don’t think so. You guys had such a cute introduction to each other and you clearly hit it off. Some people just click and are meant to meet. The fact that you two had a connection to each other beforehand without even knowing it? I think there’s something to be said for that.”

“What, you think it’s fate or something?”

Michelle shrugs. “I wouldn’t rule it out. Your flight could have been a day earlier or even a few hours before his. On a plane filled with hundreds, you connected with him, Captain Strand’s son who just so happens to live in the city you’re about to move to. I think it’s worth seeing just how far it could go. If you ask me, you’ll wind up with a boyfriend in no time.”

Carlos mulls it over for a moment. He can admit he is in fact curious. It’s been a while since he’s felt this drawn to someone and with TK, it’s been as natural as breathing since they first met. The timing is less than ideal but it’s been so long since Carlos has felt this urge to get close to someone, since he’s felt safe enough to even open his mind and heart up to the possibility.

“Maybe you’re onto something.”

“One of these days you’ll learn to just accept my brilliance, no questions asked. But this will do for now.”

Carlos rolls his eyes but drapes an arm over her shoulder, pulling her into his side and kissing her temple.

“I’m going moments like this with you,” he says.

Michelle sighs and pats his back. “I will too but we still have time on the clock, right? Let’s not think about that now.”

Carlos sighs, knowing she’s right. It just feels as if these moments are slipping through his fingers, the new year and all its changes lurking just around the corner.

~*~*~

As customary, the Ryder house is the staple for parties among the team and New Year’s Eve is no different. Carlos has lost track of how many times he’s sat on their couch or been treated for Grace’s incredible home-cooking. It’s always been a source of comfort for him, being surrounded by these colleagues who have become an extended family to him.

This time next year, he’ll be in another time zone, familiarized with a new group of people. Carlos knows he’s jumping the gun. There’s no doubt in his mind that he’ll be able to visit back home and that this collection of people will still love him as they do now.

Carlos looks around the living room, taking stock: Marjan blowing into a noise maker in Mateo’s face and bursting into laughter, Paul shaking his head and dropping his face into his palm. Over by the kitchen he sees Grace and Judd swaying to the music playing as Captain Strand takes Michelle’s hand and begins dancing alongside the other couple. It warms Carlos’ heart and breaks it too, seeing this all for what will be the last time with this city being home.

Suddenly the room feels too small and he finds himself heading for the door, grabbing his jacket off of the coat rack. It’s cold out but Carlos remembers just how bitter the weather in New York was. This is nothing compared to that. And it’s this thought that twists at his heart a bit more, one more reminder of how much his life is set to change sooner than he thinks he’s ready for.

The new year is biting at his heels and time is just slipping by. Logically he knows that he shouldn’t be outside now, that he would be wise to savor these memories with his Austin crew while they’re here rather than lament later. But it all feels like too much and the last thing he wants is to let his pensive mood be a dark cloud over a celebratory and joyous time.

Carlos keeps walking until he reaches the park nearby the Ryder household. Naturally it’s abandoned as everyone is tucked away inside their homes either enjoying a quiet night in or throwing parties like the Ryders. Carlos draws in a breath and takes a seat on one of the swings, his fingers clutching on to the links. He quickly stands up the second he hears footsteps approaching, a figure walking towards him.

“It’s just me,” comes TK’s voice and sure enough the man’s features come into focus the closer he gets until he’s settling into the swing beside Carlos.

“I saw you take off. I just wanted to check that you were okay.”

Carlos smiles a bit. “I appreciate it. I’m okay. I’m just...thinking about a lot right now.”

TK sways on his swing, letting a comfortable silence fall between them before he speaks.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Carlos’ heart and thoughts feel so heavy now, such a contrast to how lighthearted and hopeful this holiday is meant to be. But TK looks at him with such genuine care that he finds himself almost desperate to unburden himself a bit.

“Sometimes I wish I could just stop time, you know? But hell, it’s New Year’s Eve. What more proof do I need that life is always moving forward?”

Carlos sighs and rocks slightly back and forth.

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be a downer. You should head on back inside, have fun with the others.”

TK is silent beside him, long enough for Carlos to pull his gaze toward the other man. TK is eyeing him thoughtfully.

“You’re scared about what comes next. That’s totally normal. Moving away, starting a new life somewhere else, it’s a big step. A huge change.”

Carlos frowns as he nods. “I wish I could see the end, you know? I wish I could see if it’s all worth it, that I’m making the right choice.”

TK hums in thought. “Well, the best way out is through, right?”

“So you don’t think it’s a mistake to move out to New York?”

TK shrugs. “I don’t know you well enough to say one way or the other for sure. But no, I don’t think it is. I think the fact that you’re even considering it at all should tell you something about how you feel about where you are now.”

Carlos grows quiet, considering the man’s words. But TK isn’t done dishing out his opinion.

“You’ve got an amazing team here, there’s no denying that. It’s a real family, not to mention your actual family is here too. But—and mind you I’m super biased here— New York is an amazing place to be, to live. If you’re feeling restless in Austin, I think New York is the perfect alternative.”

Carlos laughs at this. “So, so biased,” he muses.

TK jokingly puffs up his chest. “Hey, it’s not my fault people have written songs about it and flock to it from all corners of the world,” he jokes. “And all of them, like you would, find home.”

A soft sigh escapes Carlos’ lips as he grips the chain link of the swing.

“That does actually sound pretty nice. I’d miss everyone here like crazy but maybe it’s time for something new? I don’t know. I keep waiting for something extraordinary to happen but nothing ever really changes around here. And there’s nothing wrong with that, of course. I just—“

“You’ve outgrown it,” TK says simply. “And there’s nothing wrong with that either.”

Carlos smiles at him and nods. “I suppose not, no.”

“At least you’ll come to the city knowing someone; you won’t be alone or completely starting from scratch.”

“You? You would take that on?”

TK rolls his eyes. “Of course me. You think I’d leave you high and dry? Damn, I know New Yorkers have a bit of a rep but jeez,” he teases.

Carlos laughs. “I only meant...you barely even know me. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Maybe so but I’d like to get to know you better. And if we’re gonna be calling the same city home, it’s kind of perfect. You get a new job, a new city, a new friend. Pretty sweet package, if you ask me.”

“You’ll be my tour guide then? You can take me to all the hot spots, Central Park and Times Square for starters.”

TK shakes his head in dismay. “God, Times Square,” he groans. “Hell on earth but sure, just for you I’d make the exception.”

“I’m honored,” Carlos says, placing a hand over his heart.

“As you should be. There aren’t many reasons I’d willingly go there so you should be patting yourself on the back right now.”

Carlos raises a brow. “But you’re thinking I’d be worth it?”

TK’s face grows serious. “In a lot of ways I’m thinking you would be, yes.”

Carlos' face flushes a bit and he looks away, down at his feet as he begins to kick out in earnest to start swinging.

Not for the first time since meeting TK he isn’t sure if there’s more to his words just below the surface, if he’s flirting or just being naturally charismatic. It shouldn’t matter either way, Carlos tells himself. Starting up a new relationship when so much in his life is already about to change doesn’t seem smart.

And yet it’s difficult to bear that in mind when he looks over and sees that TK is still watching him. The man smiles softly and follows Carlos' lead, swinging a bit.

In the distance Carlos can hear the rise in voices from houses where everyone is celebrating, just waiting to usher in the new year.

“One minute to go,” TK says, looking at the time on his watch and digging his feet into the ground to stop himself.

Carlos keeps going, breathing in the last dregs of this year before it’s gone with the tick of the clock. He looks up at the pinpricks of stars above, almost glistening in the clear sky. He closes his eyes, soaks in the moment, the last few seconds of this year winding down.

The New Years party goers can be heard shouting their countdown and beside him, TK joins in quietly as well.

10

9

8

7

Carlos opens his eyes once more and holds his breath as he upward, counting down the last few seconds in his head. This year is going, going...

3

2

1

Gone.

He exhales as shouts from the neighboring houses rent the air. He stops swinging then, digging his feet into the hard earth beneath him as he looks over at TK. Beside him the man’s face is flushed, the tip of his nose pink from the cold but his gaze is unrelenting as he leans forward.

Carlos’ body seems to move on its own accord, closing the distance between them as well. He doesn’t think about anything other than what TK’s lips will feel like and before he realizes it, he’s getting his answer.

It’s a chaste kiss, truly just a meeting of mouths in a gentle press but it warms Carlos from the center all the way through his entire body. TK’s lips are soft and warm despite the cold.

“Happy New Year, Carlos,” TK says softly.

Carlos doesn’t have the slightest clue of what the road ahead will look like exactly but it’s enough to know that in some capacity, TK is going to be a part of it. Be it as a friend or something more, it makes Carlos hopeful to see how life will unfold, what other surprises it may have in store.

Carlos stares at him for a moment and it seems as if TK and the whole world is holding its breath as they sit in silence together. This feeling in his chest is so unlike anything Carlos has experienced before. He likes to think things through, to anticipate at least three steps ahead but his future is such a blank slate that it’s truly anyone’s guess as to what will happen next. All he can do is control this present moment and as Carlos sees it, kissing TK is the only thing on his agenda for right now.

He leans in again and kisses the man once more, deeply this time, hand cradling the back of TK’s neck.

Maybe this is risky, maybe this will only complicate his life further when he settles in New York and has to figure out what this all means. But in this moment, that all feels like a lifetime away, a page from a chapter that hasn’t been written yet. There’s only the here and now with this beautiful man that fills him with possibilities.

[crowleyellestair]

More Than Ok- Jaskier Imagine (The Witcher)

My first shot at writing for this lot. I love this silly bard, so I thought I’d try!

If you like it and would want more (because I know there aren’t too many fics for him) please let me know.

Masterlist

Pain was all she had felt. The cut she had was just under her ribs and every heavy breath in was white hot fire. Her vision had been blurry, but not because of tears. She had travelled with Geralt enough to know the feeling of pain. It wasn’t even Geralt that had her coming along, it was his bard. She had felt a draw to him, so she had to come along. Unlike the bard, however, she could fight, and well. So anytime they had taken a job, Y/n was in the thick of it. Just like now, but it wasn’t a job that put her in this mess, nor was she near her boys.

But the draw she felt towards Jaskier was guiding her back to the camp they had set up the night prior. Her feet could barely keep up with the pace she set, and her legs wobbled more than the bard’s confidence. The dense forest wasn’t helping her get to her destination any faster, and since she was dragged so far, she started to wheeze. Y/n started to see the familiar tree pattern, and the hope filling her chest broke her strength.

Y/n fell through the brush, right into the opening of their camp. The two men had been fighting and left a couple hours from now, Jaskier following the brooding man to try and talk it out. Luckily for the gal, they had come back moments before, on edge seeing an empty camp. As she fell, Geralt quickly drew his sword, but upon seeing his injured friend faced down on the ground, he sheathed the weapon. Jaskier was quick to throw himself down by her side. He had grown very fond of the girl in front of him. Like her, he felt a draw. Y/n was like Geralt, but Jaskier believed whole heartedly in destiny. He didn’t want to chalk it up to that, but there was no explaining the raw electricity between them since the first time they met.

“Ugh. I mean, come on.” Jaskier stopped his jingle as he heard the hushed comment. The bard sat in front of the woman at the bar. He noticed her when he first walked in but never caught her face. Her figure never turned to meet anyone at the bar, but she was still pretty judgmental.

“This is the third comment you’ve made. You did think I’d notice, but I did.” The woman in front of him pulled down her hood to show him her shining eyes. A playful smile was evident, and it made his heart jump.

“A major fifth? You’ve been repeating the same four chords in the same major key for the past three minutes. All you’ve done is change the order in which you shift. Surely, you’re more talented than what you’ve shown. If not, and I were the Witcher, I would have dumped you ages ago.” Her smirk never left, even as she brought her pint of ale to her lips. She reveled in the shocked face that graced his beautiful features.

“Y-you know I’m with Geralt? You’ve heard of me?” She let our soft laugh.

“Well, there is only one bard that sings of the man, isn’t there?” Jaskier tried to recover from his starry-eyed gaze. He was quick to clear his throat and ask,

“Would I know you? I’ve heard tales of women with as much beauty as you before, but I have a feeling you’re special.” He smiled when she let out a hearty laugh.

“I doubt it, but I wouldn’t be opposed to you discovering something.” Her tone was joking, but something inside had ached to have him know her.

“Geralt. Geralt!?” He didn’t know what else to say. He started jostling her onto his lap, and looking up to the white-haired man. He felt a rush of water behind his eyes. He kept repeating the name, as it was one he usually yelled in times of trouble. The man in question walked over, looking down to the woman. Her face had blood coursing from her nose and mouth. An eye was swelling shut and her shirt was stained red. He could see the tare where a dagger must have cut through.

“Fuck.”

“W-what do we do? Geralt? Geralt, what do we-?” Geralt placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. Jaskier looked up to meet his eyes, a tear leaving him. He has never been an outstandingly brave man, but this is the first time Geralt had seen him cry. And though he can’t ‘feel emotions’, seeing his best friend like this struck a chord. And he was fairly fond of Y/n.

“I’ve got it.” He hastily walked to Roach, grabbing his bag. He knew that he couldn’t do much, but he could mend enough until they made it to the next town and find a real healer.

‘Hum’s and Ah’s’ start to fall exclusively from the bard. He wouldn’t be able to recall when, but he started to slowly remove the sweat soaked hair from her forehead. At some point, you wouldn’t be able to distinguish sweat from tears as he held her head to his chest.

“Stay. Please stay with me, Y/n.” Geralt had come back with his kit. Geralt silently ask for permission to remove the woman from Jaskier’s arms. He gently turned her so he could get at the wound.

After cleaning it, Geralt left to quickly pack the camp. Jaskier used all of his strength to bring the girl to their shared horse and hoist her up. It’s not that he wasn’t strong, but the adrenaline and fear pushed him to the max, allowing him to do it. He hoped up behind her as they almost always did, and asked,

“Which way?” Geralt pointed in the direction of the closest town.

“I’ll meet you.” A quick nod came from him and he willed the horse forward.

“It’ll be okay. It will, I promise.” Just like usual, he couldn’t stop speaking his mind. “You know, I wrote you a song. You have to stick around to hear it. It’s funny- I wrote it right under your nose.” And he had.

Every day he had his pad out, writing everything that came to mind. Usually, tunes would come to him, but he never forgot what she said to him upon first meeting. He would write down notes and chords over words, scribbling them out and replacing them. It was going to be his masterpiece. ‘Toss A Coin’ was a hit, but this wasn’t for the masses. This was for Y/n, the woman that had his heart completely. They would share her horse every day. Y/n would sit in front most of the time, and Jaskier would use her back as a writing place. They would usually switch come nightfall, Y/n resting against him and using him as a pillow.

 Jaskier and Geralt had sat silently for a couple minutes now. They were trying to hypothesize what had happened in the hours they were gone. All they had known was that before they left, Y/n was trying to sleep, and they had cleared the perimeter before that. Geralt had tracked her path back to a body. Someone he recognized from a client a few jobs back. The large, gruff man had made passes at Y/n which she quickly shot down much to his displeasure. He was the client’s bodyguard. Was being emphasized seeing as the man lay dead in the forest now. His head was almost clean off. Almost.

Y/n woke up softly in the cot she had been in for an hour or so. She didn’t recognize her surroundings, but she knew she was safe. It was reassured when she looked down to find Jaskier’s jacket laying over her. It was her favorite one. The light blue color had always reminded her of his eyes. It had only been once or twice, but she had stolen it in the night, claiming it was to help keep her warm. Jaskier had stopped completely when it came to flirting with others when Y/n came into his life. He of course kept his loving nature towards others, and she had always seen that as flirting. She hadn’t known better. Because of this, she had never thought that he would reciprocate her feelings. So, she would make up tales to steal his jacket or hear one more verse.

A ghost of a smile came to her, but fell when she sat up. She lifted the jacket to find her shirt folded upwards, a green herbal treatment spilling out from bandages that wrapped around her torso. She stood, and tried to fold her shirt down, but found that it wasn’t folded, but cut all the way around. She huffed and decided to push her arm through the sleeves and pull the doublet closed. Walking out of the tent, she didn’t have time to look for the men before familiar arms wrapped around her gently. Jaskier’s face found a place in the crook of her neck for a moment before pulling back and looking at her.

“Y/n! My dearest, Y/n! I thought… How do you feel? Do you need some water? Maybe you should lay back down-.” Her hand quickly went to his chest and paused him.

“I’m ok, Jaskier. Thank you.” His eyes found hers quickly. She got lost in them quickly, somewhat forgetting the ache in her ribs.

“Are you sure?” A small smile came to her along with a nod. A hesitant hand cupped her cheek, and Jaskier’s lip got caught between his teeth for a moment. “I was worried.” She absent-mindedly leaned into the hand while saying,

“Well, I guess I had an obligation.” It was evident that Jaskier was confused. “I heard that I had a song to hear.” Y/n could see the blush quickly form and he casted his gaze to his feet.

“I didn’t think you could hear me.”

“I always hear you.” His eyes found hers again. Those blue eyes she so loved that matched the color of his jacket she wore. The eyes that seem to carry her pain away.

“Always? I think that may be impossible. Even if you did try, which, I don’t know why you would.” Her smile grew as she leaned in and placed a kiss on his lips.

“Dandi, I think you know why.” The two turned to Geralt, who chuckled at the name. He noticed the two looking at him.

“What?” A playful smile placed itself on Y/n.

“Did you not know his name is Dandelion?”

“No.” He looked to Jaskier, smiling. Jaskier’s mouth dropped wide open and looked between the two. He let go of Y/n to point at her.

“You little scamp. It is true, but- Geralt, don’t look at me like that. It’s not funny. Y/n, why would you do this?” She took a step back. The pain in her side became evident again and she threw a smile up before turning and going back into the tent.

Y/n could hear Jaskier spout to Geralt before clamoring into the tent. He turned to her and silently but quickly swaggered towards her. She turned in time to meet his lips. He pulled back and smiled.

“I assume that your kiss from before meant that you like me. The feeling is mutual. Though, I was planning on telling you through song, and not when you had your blood everywhere. That was, definitely not apart of that plan.” Her eyebrows rose.

“It’s not the first time I’ve been cut. You had a plan?” He laughed, spun and fell back on the cot.

“Of course I had a plan.” She looked at him stare at the tent ceiling. Y/n let go of the jacket, looking down to her bindings, and let the jacket fall from her shoulders. She started to make quick work of undoing them as she saw red. “It was filled with flowers and stars and music… and… magic. It was going to be perfect.” Y/n wiped of the herbs and picked up the fresh bandages she noticed lying on the table.

Y/n turned, about to ask for help but he was already standing in front of her. He grabbed them from her hand and started unfolding them.

“I thought it was ok, all things considered.”

“But you deserve better than ok.” She chuckled and looked down at his bent form that was binding her up again.

“You are better than ok.”

[spidersmiceandeverythingnice]

All Emiya-san AU's are good AU's (its where my Actor Fionn lives too lol) and man there's a lot of untapped comedy gold of Shirou hearing all these stories about Diarmuid scaring away rude customers and thinking he looks super scarred up or w/e and then he meets him and it's like "??? he looks so nice?? are u sure this is the guy who nearly stabbed someones eye out???"

EHEHEHE I wrote a thing beneath the read more I looooove the Emiya Gohan AUS so much...

Everything about this situation was concerning for Shirou. It was bad enough that Archer was using Shirou’s name (the number of times he’d gotten, “Is that guy a relative of yours, Emiya-kun?” from ignorant but well-meaning classmates was starting to grate on his nerves) at his dumb part-time job (why Servants even needed part-time jobs was a mystery) and the fact that Lancer kept popping up to invite Taiga out for dinner and drinking but now, apparently, a third Servant had arrived.

The cafe’s regulars, of course, had no idea he was a Servant. Sakura and Rider had confirmed it after visiting the cafe on one of their dates, but didn’t seem to be worried. Of course, they weren’t worried. Sakura and Rider had enough power and magical energy between them to flatten the city, let alone deal with Servants. Rin also brushed off what Shirou believed was a wholly justified concern - “He’s probably just some lingering ghost from a past Grail War. Archer seems to like him fine, and he hangs out around Lancer, so what’s the big deal? If he becomes a problem, we’ll just deal with it like we always do.”

But in Shirou’s view, the Servant was already a problem. It was bad enough that the restored Servants of the Fifth Grail War could still draw upon the wild, free-flowing magic of Fuyuki’s leylines and pop up whenever they pleased - the fact that Servants from previous wars might show up too was giving him anxiety.

And this was before the rumors started.

Nobody seemed to know the guy’s name, or remember it if they saw it written down. He would pop up - always in the vicinity of the cafe - and often left behind gifts. One time, it was a bottle of wine for the manager. Another time, an antique coin for one of the waiters. He always seemed to disappear right when anyone asked for information about him, and reappear whenever something interesting happened. One time, near closing, a couple of drunk university students came in and tried to convince their waitress to leave in their car. When she refused, one of them joked about following her home.

At once, the mystery Servant walked in the door.

Another time, a middle-aged man from out of town shouted at one of the baristas until they had to run into the back to cry for the rest of their shift. On the local news the next morning, the man appeared to have been dropped at the hospital with a broken jaw and a soul full of remorse.

(Lancer actually laughed when he informed Shirou of this story.

“You were there and didn’t say anything?”

“Hey, I was the guy who had to deal with the asshole after he made our barista run off. It wasn’t a big deal, I just happened to call in a favor from a friend. Plus, he deserved it.”

And Lancer winked, like they were sharing an inside joke.)

And so on and so forth. Nobody could purge the service industry of customer horror stories, but this mystery Servant seemed to be doing his damnedest to make a dent in the problem. He was the most ghost-like of any Servant that Shriou had ever encountered.

Ayako and Kaede quickly became regulars at the cafe. Shirou thought it was hard to tell whether or not they were in love with the mystery Servant or whether or not they wanted to challenge him to a duel. It seemed to be a combination of both.

“He’s like, the toughest guy I’ve ever seen,” said Ayako, mystified. “I swear I thought he was going to tear that woman’s throat out.”

“This guy threatened a customer,” Shirou said, “and you’re happy?”

“Well, she was being rude to Yukika,” Kaede retorted, like that settled the matter. “I mean, I wasn’t counting, but I think she sent her coffee back six times before anyone said anything. She kept berating her like it was Yukika’s fault that she kept changing her mind about sugar and milk. She literally lied about what her original order was to get a free drink. It was awful.”

“But then this guy shows up,” Ayako continued the story, talking over Kaede as she continued muttering about the injustice faced by the track team’s manager. “And he clocks what’s happening, like, instantly. I dunno where the blue-haired guy was, I guess he was late for his shift or something, but he just - “

She motioned like she was trying to take up more space than her physical body allowed.

“I swear, it was like you could’ve heard a pin drop! He takes one look at Yukika and just goes up to the lady and -”

Another vague gesture like a karate chop.

“He hit this woman?” Shirou said, outraged.

“Nah, he wouldn’t hit anyone,” Kaede said, nodding sagely. “He doesn’t really need to, you know? You could just take one look at him and you know not to mess with this guy when he’s mad.”

That settled it. Shirou had to investigate on his own, since obviously no one else was going to take this seriously. It was bad that customers were mistreating the staff at Yukika’s job, but a Servant threatening humans was unacceptable.

It was time, at last, to enlist Saber’s help.

She had been living at Shirou’s house since her restoration, recovering from her injuries. Shirou hated the idea of asking her to fight again, especially when she was so clearly enjoying her life as a “normal human,” but he couldn’t afford to hold back if there was a dangerous, unknown Servant in the city. To her credit, Saber was happy to assist. She said she had been meaning to drop by and try Archer’s cooking for quite some time.

The two of them met on Sunday for lunch. Saber ordered two coffees and went into the kitchen to see Archer. Yukika wasn’t on shift today, so Shirou didn’t recognize any of the other staff. But he did notice that they all kept watching the door, as if waiting for something.

After the coffees arrived (Saber’s was left to cool on the table), the bell above the door chimed. Shirou felt the shift in the area’s magical energy before he looked up and saw the Servant himself. It was remarkably subtle, considering that it was like an icy draft passing through the cafe. You wouldn’t notice unless you were looking for it.

The waitstaff was suddenly all smiles.

Shirou looked up - and felt his jaw drop to the floor.

He did not look remotely threatening. The mystery Servant was, in fact, the most physically beautiful person that Shirou had ever seen in his life. Tall and muscular - his build was not dissimilar to Lancer, though he lacked Lancer’s wolfish aura - with a head of dark, thick curls. His face was elegant, from piercing, bright eyes all the way down to his perfect lips, only marred by a tiny beauty mark beneath his right eye.

Shirou had to look away, blushing despite himself. What the hell is wrong with me? He realized belatedly that he had come to this battle totally unprepared for a charm attack.

Is this guy cursed or something?

That was the only explanation. Why else did he feel like he would collapse if he looked this Servant directly in the face for too long? It wasn’t normal.

And on second glance, it appeared that Shirou wasn’t the only person taken aback. A couple on a date had paused their conversation to stare at the Servant, murmuring their appreciation in hushed tones; a middle-aged woman was holding a fork in her hand, oblivious to the fact that her cake had just splattered over her shoes. Two little kids were waving at him, apparently recognizing him from somewhere, and their parents had to hurriedly shush them because it’s rude to try and pull someone out of a conversation like that.

One of the waiters was talking to him. Shirou strained to listen, shaking himself.

“Want the usual?”

“If it’s not too much trouble,” said the Servant, in a smooth, polite voice that made Shirou hate him irrationally. Stupid, handsome guy. “Is Cu in today?”

“I think he said he’s on vacation,” the waiter replied. “But Emiya’s here if you want to talk to him.”

Shirou looked up, baffled by the fact that the unfamiliar waiter knew his name, momentarily forgetting that Archer had stolen his name as a cover-up.

The Servant noticed. Barely a glance, a flicker of the gaze in his direction.

Shirou turned back and drank deeply from his coffee, which scalded his tongue.

“Oh, I see,” said the Servant, sounding amused now. “Thank you.”

“Sure thing! I’ll let him know you’re here.”

Once the initial shock of the Servant’s appearance dissipated, everything went back to normal so fast that it was almost jarring. The middle-aged woman clicked her tongue and grabbed napkins to clean up her shoes; the couple resumed planning the rest of their day; the kids kept eating, having gotten bored with trying to get the Servant’s attention. The faint, drafty aura of magic passed and the temperature in the cafe seemed to rise back to comfortable levels. Definitely cursed, Shirou decided, frowning into his coffee cup.

“Excuse me?”

Shirou blanched. The Servant had appeared behind him, smiling patiently.

“Are you waiting for someone?” he asked, indicating Saber’s coffee cup.

Shirou was suddenly, oddly conflicted. Without knowing what this Servant was capable of, was it fair to expose Saber like this?

“Uh, no,” he said, uselessly. “Well, not exactly.”

The Servant waited, patiently, for him to explain. Shirou grimaced.

“My friend is a friend of the guy who cooks here,” he said, hating himself for giving it away. “She wanted to come visit him, so I’m just waiting for her to get back before we leave.”

“Really?” said the Servant, smiling. “That’s nice. You’re a friend of Emiya?”

Shirou twitched. “No. I am Emiya.”

“Oh?”

“Not related to that guy, obviously,” he muttered. “But - anyway,” Shirou blurted, suddenly noticing a distinctive piece of fly-away blonde hair emerging from the kitchen, “it’s a long story, and we’d better get going, so see you later -”

He hastily threw some money down on the table for his coffee and rushed to Saber’s side.

“What’s the matter?” she asked him, brows furrowed with concern. “I thought that you were -”

“Saber!”

Shirou winced, and then - wait a minute. How on Earth did the enemy Servant know Saber’s name!?

To his horror, a huge smile spread over Saber’s face.

“Saber, don’t!” Shirou hissed. “You have to look away! This guy’s got some kind of charm spell on him that -”

Saber only laughed and lightly pushed him aside. Though she’d scarcely used a fraction of her true strength, Shirou stumbled.

“Oh, don’t be silly, Shirou. This is an old friend of mine.”

And she crossed the cafe in order to give the Servant a huge hug. Because Saber was approximately half of the mystery Servant’s size, he was able to lift her easily and spun her in a circle. Saber laughed at this.

“I must admit I’m surprised!” she said. “I didn’t think -”

Saber seemed to become self-conscious. But the enemy Servant merely beamed.

“Think nothing of it! I had no idea you were here in the city.”

“Really? Cu and Emiya didn’t tell you?”

“They mentioned a surprise,” said the Servant, shrugging. “I suppose this must be it.”

Saber shook her head. “Of course they did. Foolish boys.”

“I must apologize - I was introducing myself to your friend.”

“Oh, yes! This is my current Master, Shirou. Shirou,” said Saber, waving to him. “This is my old friend - he was a Lancer in the previous quest for the Grail.”

“Please,” said the former Lancer, “call me Diarmuid, if you’d like.”

He gave away his True Name so casually. Who the hell is he, though? Shirou frowned as he came closer.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t realize you were one of Saber’s friends.”

“And I did not realize you were a mage,” said Diarmuid, breezily. “But no matter! Are you really leaving?” he asked Saber. “Your Master has indicated that you might have plans -”

“Nonsense!” Saber assured him, cheerful as well. “We were just sitting down. Did you order? I’ve been meaning to try Archer’s cooking for awhile, you see, so I plan to stay here for the afternoon.”

Saber and Diarmuid walked back to their table and pulled up a third chair.

Shirou bit back a groan.

It was going to be a long day.

[storytellerssanctum]

Hi! So i hava request for a fic/ one shot, whatever you like. So a Fred x Slytherin reader where she has to tutor him and he’s kicked off the Quidditch team until he get his grades up. He, and the gryffindor team resent her for this when she’s actually really nice. She kind of helps Malfoy w family issues and they think that they’re friends, and she has a really hard time but ignores them. Eventually Fred realises how nice she is and kinda falls for her but the team still don’t aprove

Of course my love! I hope you liked it xx

No Sympathy (one shot)

Fred Weasley x Slytherin Reader

Warnings: none

“Off for another date with Malfoy’s better half?” Angelina chimed, giving Fred a snide look as he passed. His charms book was clung under his arm for the third time this week. He had a tutoring session with a Slytherin.

“Wouldn’t call it a date, unless it’ll make you jealous.” He smirked, looking back at her as he passed. “The faster I get this over with, the faster I can get back to keeping the bludgers away from your big head.” He joked. His part on the Quidditch team had been postponed until he could get his grades up. A fifth year had taken his place temporarily, but he was nowhere near the standards Fred had set so high. The team, including himself, was livid at the fact. Professor McGonagall had offered Fred an ultimatum; either he would accept tutoring from (Y/N), an exceptional Slytherin girl his age, or he would not be allowed to return to the team. “I don’t like her any more than you do.” He reminded the girl.

“Maybe you should slip her a puking pastille in her tea, Freddie.” His brother appeared beside him, nudging his arm. “Might get her to speed the process up. What is this, like the hundredth hour you’ve spent in that library?”

“Seems like it,” Fred huffed, clutching the book to his side tighter. “I can’t wait until this is over. Slytherin’s aren’t very good company. Especially her, she never talks. It’s like studying with a toad.” This caused a chortle of laughter around the common room. “Actually, they’re more entertaining.” The Gryffindor Quidditch team hated (Y/N), and they never minded laughing at her expense.

In truth, (Y/N) did not mind helping the Gryffindor. She had found his antics and jokes quite entertaining. She held a soft heart, it wasn’t something many of the people in her house had. Her downfall was her shyness. Her quietness led everyone to believe she was like the rest of her house: mean, and always judging. Maybe this was partial to the fact she held a small friendship with Draco Malfoy. In truth, he was the only one who knew her true personality. She had caught him angrily storming the hallways one day, in a fit of rage at his father. She stopped him, and helped him through his troubles. Since then, they had chummed around together. She wouldn’t necessarily call them best friends, but more acquaintances. People took this the wrong way, as he was the only person she hung around with.

She knew of the Gryffindor team’s dislike for her. They believed she was prolonging the studying so Fred couldn’t get back on the team. They thought her housemates had put her up to it, giving Slytherin a better chance at the house cup. This wasn’t true in the slightest. The fact they couldn’t face was Fred was just truly rubbish at this years charms curriculum. She didn’t think he was stupid, more like he wasn’t allowing himself to learn it. He hated spending the time with her, and he didn’t want to listen to her. This frustrated her even further, knowing he was drawing out the process. The longer she had to tutor the ginger boy, the longer she would be scrutinized by the Gryffindor team.

The teams cruel words at her expense really hurt her. They had no sympathy, believing she was as cruel as the rest of the Slytherin’s. She never went out of her way to make anyone else miserable, but they had no issues doing it to her. It seemed as though she was the punchline of every one of their jokes lately. She knew if she was from any other house, they wouldn’t be half as rude as they were. The green tie she wore degraded her in their minds. As much as she tried to ignore it, (Y/N) had grown to resent the tutoring because of this. Before they started to make fun of her, she actually enjoyed it. She found Fred Weasley a bit charming, actually. He had a glint in his brown eyes that made her stomach flutter. His smile could turn anybody into a mess.

So she sat in the library, dreading his arrival. When she finally saw his tall, built figure in the doorway, she straightened herself in her chair. Her book was strewn open to a page where they would start their study. “(Y/L/N).” Fred greeted, coldly. He collapsed in the chair beside her, nearly throwing his book on the table.

“Fred,” she whispered. “How are you?”

“What are we doing today?” He sighed, ignoring her question. She flinched at his coldness, shying away further.

“I picked out a charm that might appear on your OWL’s.” She said, pointing to the first one on the page. “I brought some stuff to practice.” She told him. He barely acknowledged her words. She let out a huff of annoyance as he refused to look at what she was showing him. “Fred, you have to look at what I’m talking about if you’re going to learn anything.” She leaned back in her seat, rubbing her face in her hands.

“How do I know you won’t just mess me up, anyway?” He mumbled.

“How on earth do you expect me to teach you how to mess up a charm?” She asked, incredulously. “If you get it wrong, it’ll be pretty obvious, wouldn’t it?”

“Whatever.” He answered, finally looking over at her. “Let’s get this over with.” The two settled in, finally looking over the words in the textbook. After twenty minutes, Fred was getting discouraged at his lack of progress. He looked to the empty cups in front of them, wanting to tear his hair out in frustration. She had brought two, and was encouraging him to try the water-producing charm.

“Come on, Fred. Try it once more, I’ll do it with you.” She prompted. He gave her a look out of the side of his eye.

“Fine,” he grunted, sitting up again. “What’s the motion, again?” She waved her wand, showing him clear enough so he could mimick it.

“Make sure you say the charm clearly, too. If it’s jumbled, it won’t work.” She reminded. He ignored her. As he waved his wand, a dribble of water spouted from the end, but not enough to even dampen the cup. “Here, watch me one more time.” She looked over, seeing his eyes fall on her.

“Well, go on, then.” He nodded his head toward her wand she had laid on the table. She took it back into her hands and pointed it into the cup.

“Auguamenti,” she said, moving her hand in the appropriate gesture. A steady stream of water poured into her cup, filling it to the brim before it ceased. He watched in amazement, not believing she could make it seem so easy. “Now, your turn. If you really believe it’ll happen, it will.” She encouraged. Fred picked up his own cup wearily.

“Auguamenti.” He said clearly, and his cup began to fill up with crystal clear water. When it finished, he sat it down and stared at it for a moment. “I did it! I really did it!” He laughed.

“I knew you could, Fred! I’m so proud of you!” She reached out for a high five which he returned in the heat of the moment. He finally looked at her face, his mood softening slightly. Maybe he had been a slight bit too hard on her. She didn’t seem that bad anymore.

-

“I’m surprised McGonagall is finally letting you back on the team. Maybe she realized (Y/L/N) isn’t that smart after all.” George chided, laughing at his brothers news. “Maybe she found out her plan to keep you off the team.” George theorized. Their last tutoring session was about to begin, and George was ecstatic that it was coming to a close. Fred, not so much. Over the weeks he had grown less angry with the Slytherin. He felt his palms break into a sweat every time he saw her, now. His heart sped every time she complimented his progress. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was falling for her.

“Hey, shut it. She isn’t that bad.” Fred grunted at his twin.

“Not that bad? Who are you and what have you done with my brother?” George questioned. He had no sympathy for the Slytherin girl.

“I’m just saying, maybe she isn’t as bad as we made her out to be.” George let out a scoff at the statement.

“No, she’s exactly as bad as we made her out to be. If not, worse.”

“Whatever, Georgie.” Fred tumbled down the hallway toward the library, not wanting to argue any further. When the library came into view, he found himself stopping before he entered. He fixed his hair and straightened his red and gold tie before he revealed himself. When he let himself inside, he saw her sitting alone. His heart felt like it would burst out of his rib cage. Her eyes glistened as she looked up to him, cracking a smile.

“You’re early, Weasley.” She joked. They had grown more comfortable with each other as the weeks passed.

“So are you, (Y/L/N).”

“Had to make sure I was on time for you,” she laughed. “It is our last lesson and all.” He took a seat beside her, closer than he had before. Her heart swelled at his change of emotion. She felt a real connection between her and the Gryffindor boy. She had grown quite fond of him once he started to warm up to her.

“Maybe not,” he reminded. “I still have other classes I could fail.” She laughed at his words. The sound made his breath catch in his throat.

“Alright, Freddie, I have one charm left for you to learn.” She shoved a blank piece of paper before him. “You’re gonna move your wand like this,” she demonstrated. “And say ‘aparecium’.” She explained.

“What’s the blank piece of paper got to do with anything?” He asked.

“You’ll see.” She grinned mischievously. He grabbed his wand and did as she said, but nothing happened. He tried a few times, but the paper stayed blank. “Here, Fred,” she said, placing her hand over his. “Move it more like this.” She made his hand follow the motion. “Then it should work.”

“If you say so.” He sighed. He let his hand fall to the routine the girl had shown him as he uttered the words. This time, words appeared on the paper. “It reveals invisible ink!” He said, proudly. He let his eyes fall over the parchment as he read the message silently.

I am so proud of what you’ve achieved, you’ll do great on your exams. I’ll miss our lessons!

He looked over at the girl beside him. “You did it, Freddie.” She whispered, giving him a lopsided grin.

“Not yet,” he said, his eyes flickering to her lips.

“What do you mean?” She questioned, feeling him lean closer to her.

“I mean,” he started, their faces inches away. “I haven’t done anything worth celebrating just yet.” He finished. She bit down on her bottom lip, allowing him to advance towards her. She felt his breath on her face. Their eyes closed as their mouths met in a kiss. It was sweet, and warmed her as he did so. She had no idea how long she had been waiting for it. “Now I’ve done it.” He gave a cheeky smile as they parted.

“You better not let your team find out about that, they might not let you come back.” She mumbled, pressing her mouth to his once more.

“I don’t care what they have to say,” he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t have sympathy for them. They’re missing out on getting to know an amazing girl. They’ll have to learn to deal with it unless they want a bludger knocked towards their heads.”

“How romantic.” (Y/N) took Fred’s hands in her own. “Maybe I finally have an excuse to go to a game.”

[marvels-writings]

Hello :) Can you write a Carol x R imagine where the two are dating/in love w/ each other but apparently neither of them has realized it yet. The other Avengers/Fury/Shield/even some of the public are all like "the two of you need to get married already!" They already spend a lot of time together, go out on "friend" dates, are overprotective of one another, get jealous if someone flirts with the other, kiss/make out- which is only "friendly" or happens when they're tipsy/drunk etc

A/N: Interesting, very interesting ;)

"the two of you need to get married already!" Tony yelled from the outside your door, you turned around to glare at him, the clothes still in front of you. Carol also turned to glare at him, her face matching your pink face. 

This was only the 29th time today someone had said the two of you should get together, it was almost a daily routine at one point. You loved Carol, and Carol loved you, just not in a romantic way. Though, the flirting would say otherwise. 

“Fuck off Tony!” You yelled after him as he walked away, you rolled your eyes with a slight blush and picked up the more skimpier gold and army green dress with cutouts rather than the simple brown one. 

“Definitely this one.” You stated with a grin, Carol frowned slightly. 

The two of you were getting ready for one of Tony’s galas together, there were vague plans to go over to Carol’s favorite bar after if no one was drunk yet. But as always, Carol couldn’t decide what to wear and asked you. 

“But the brown one looks so comfy.” Carol whined, reaching out for the brown one only for you to swat her hands away. 

“Gorgeous and stunning,” You began, raising the gold and army green dress. “Or just pretty Captain Danvers?” You raised an eyebrow, Carol muttered something and took the army green dress and went into the bathroom to change. 

You frowned as you decided what to wear, eventually deciding on a stunning fav/color dress with golden jewelry to match Carol’s. Shrugging, you decided to put it on while Carol was changing in your bathroom. You managed to get into the dress alright, the zipper on the back wouldn’t budge, you struggled with it just as Carol came out of the bathroom. 

The dress looked absolutely stunning on her, much better than it did on the Macy’s mannequin. It was a body con, crepe material with cutouts on the sides just above her belly button. The cutouts as well as the sides were surrounded by embroidered golden rose patterns. 

“How does it look?” Carol asked timidly, pulling the dress down slightly and fidgeting with the cutouts. 

“Stunning,” You said, almost breathless, Carol blushed slightly at the compliment and thanked you before picking up the jewelry you had lent her. “Hey can you help me out here?”

“What’s up?” Carol asked, setting down the jewelry and turning around to find your entire upper back exposed by the zipper. You quickly answered you needed help with the zipper, your hands still on the zipper trying to get it up. 

“Uh, um, okay.” Carol answered, swatting your hands away before trying to pull it up. She saw the tension fade from your shoulders, you were completely relaxed in her presence. Carol tried to pull it up but the zipper came off in her hand. 

“Any minute now.” You quipped, shifting your weight slightly. 

“Uh, it broke.” Carol confessed, before you could turn around and probably scold her she cut you off. “Lemme try something though.” You grumbled a fine and stayed standing. 

Carol gently slid her finger next to your back, trying to manually pull the zipper up. It wasn’t working, she could feel the tension in your back from the sudden touch. Carol smirked and warmed up her fingers, hoping to get the zipper loose. 

You gasped slightly from the sudden heat along your spine, sending tingles everywhere before you felt the zipper being pulled up, the heat traveling all the way up to your neck, you shivered slightly as Carol took her hand away from your neck. 

“Cold?” Carol asked innocently, you smacked her arm jokingly and rolled your eyes, then sat down on the bed across from her trying to get your jewelry on. 

Carol couldn’t stop staring at you, the dress was also body con, fav/color cotton and polyester with black velvet patterns adorning every inch of it. It was strapless and almost backless, the top revealed a bit more of your cleavage than most of the dresses you wore did. 

“Need help?” You asked after finishing getting on all of your black and gold jewelry. Carol nodded slightly, oblivious to the question you had asked. She handed you the necklace though, it was almost a ritual for you to put on her makeup and jewelry and she wasn’t planning to end up.

“You really need to start getting these on yourself.” You retorted, picking up the earring and gently reaching one hand up to her earlobe while putting the earring on. 

“And miss out on this private care?” Carol joked, swallowing hard to prevent herself from blushing. “I don’t think so.” You rolled your eyes and told her to stay still. 

Carol’s breathing hitched slightly when you touched her but said nothing, instead focusing on your gentle touch on her ears. You got on the earrings in no time, the necklace had a slightly different, well, weirder clasp on it. 

“This might take a minute.” You muttered, leaning closer to her neck to see the clasp better, your breath on Carol’s neck. 

“And here you were telling me to do this myself.” Carol retorted, swinging her hair over her shoulder so you could see better, she heard, no, felt your breath hitch on her neck and smirked. 

You rolled your eyes and leaned in a little closer, nose mere inches away from her neck as you couldn’t help but stare at her neck and back. She was slouching, in front of everyone else she had this perfect posture but around you, she slouched and let herself just be Carol, instead of Captain Marvel. 

You sighed heavily when you got the clasp done, smirking at Carol’s shiver at the action before pulling away, gently patting her shoulder and ‘accidentally’ brushing her neck while doing so, drawing another shiver. 

“You two seriously need to date.” Natasha commented from the doorway, wearing a dress similar to yours but much more revealing and in a blood red shade, her hair and makeup was done heavily, showing off her features and emerald green eyes. 

“I swear that’s the thirtieth time I’ve heard that today!” You groaned, sitting in front of the mirror with your makeup set as Carol waited. 

“I wonder why,” Nat muttered, then came inside and helped you put the makeup on. 

“You counted?” Carol asked, trying to take her attention away from how Natasha was constantly touching your face while putting your makeup on. 

“You didn’t?” You joked before Nat chastised you to stay still. 

“We have 15 minutes left.” Nat stated after finishing your makeup, she had given you a fairly natural look, similar to the one you usually had but she emphasized your features much more than you did, and put on a shade of lipstick the same color as her dress, making Carol burn with jealousy but at the same time, it made you look just that much more attractive. 

“We’ll be there.” Carol answered, practically telling Natasha to go away. She smirked and took the hint, bidding the two of you goodbyes before heading out. Carol knew the two of you were just friends, but still, it made her blood boil to have anyone touch you. 

“Someone’s  overprotective.” You dang jokingly, making your way over to Carol with your makeup set in your hand. 

Carol shrugged and didn’t answer as you started doing her makeup, giving her a Smokey eye look and golden everywhere. Doing her makeup was almost a bit awkward this time, she kept staring at you instead of joking or anything else. 

“Nat was right you guys need to get together.” Tony commented from the doorway as you finished putting Carol’s makeup on. You groaned. “I know, thirty first time right, but we have got to get started, you guys take the Audi, we’re all carpooling in the others.”

Tony threw you the keys and left. This was the fifth gala he had tried to set you up withCarol by making sure the two of you got maximum Time alone, and carol couldn’t be more oblivious.

“Well, we better go.” You stated, walking out the door with Carol, elbow locked with hers, causing more whistles.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

“This is more boring that any of the other ones.” You stated, plopping down next to Carol on one of the couches. Carol nodded and sat next to you.

“Least we can do is drink.” She answered, taking to glasses of neat whiskey from one of the waiters, handing one glass to you.

“Whiskey isn’t really my thing,” you said, setting the glass down on the coffee table and calling over one of the waiters carrying fav/alcoholic/drink. “Plus you can’t get drunk anyway.”

True, but Thor gave me two flasks with some really strong asgardian stuff in it.” Carol answered, pouring a few drops from the flask into the whiskey. “Mm perfect.” She praises, sipping it.

The two of you chatted over random things, mostly making fun of all other people at this stupid gala. A few random girls came over with drinks for the two of you, you looked at carol and Carol shrugged before giving one of the girls a beaming smile and accepting the drink, you mirrored her actions, scooting closer to all the while.

After about half an hour, the two of you were squished against each other by trying to get away from them but the two of you loved the attention. You were starting to get a bit nervous from one of the girls and sipped your drink while almost glaring at her. It was then you noticed one of the girls carol was flirting with her a little too close and slide a hand up her thigh, Carol suddenly squeezed your hand, you knew carol had a much shorter temper than you and decided to deal with it yourself.

“Back off.” You said sternly, squeezing carols hand back. Carol shot you a quick grateful smile before returning her attention back to the girl. 

“And you are?” She spat, sipping Carol’s drink. 

“Hi, I’m y/n, y/n l/n and it’s delightful to meet you.” You said sarcastically reaching a hand out for an unreturned handshake before continuing. “Unfortunately, Carol here isn’t as delighted by your presence so could you please leave her alone.” The girls flirting with you laughed harder than they needed to at your sarcasm. 

The girl flared at you and got up, swaying her hips more than necessary to try to get Carol to chase after her, which she thankfully didn’t. You returned your attention back to the girls flirting with you, beaming at them once in a while and accidentally making Carol jealous.

You noticed when she let go of your hand and stomped offC leaving you surrounded by a bunch of flirtatious and yet rather pretty girls you didn’t know. 

“Excuse me ladies.” You said politely, a few of them waved at you before I at you before involving themselves in a conversation you didn’t really care for.

“Carol! Wait!” You yelled after her, trying your best to run in stilettos after her, somehow she was much faster than you at running in high heels than you were. She didn’t stop but you managed to finally catch up with her grabbing her wrist and forcing her to stop the best you could. 

“What do you want y/n?” She demanded, turning to face you, anger and jealousy written all over her face. You could feel her hand heating up but you held her there, trying not to make a scene at the entrance of Tony’s gala.

“Be with you.” You answered quickly, her hand was heating up a bit too fast. 

“Hmm I’m pretty sure all of the other apparently gorgeous girls are waiting for you back there.” Carol commented angrily, struggling slightly against your grip. 

“Do you really think I care about them?” You asked, Carol shrugged as her hands heated up more. “Damn.” You hissed, pulling your red, almost blistering hand away. You didn’t look at your hand, instead up at Carol whose face expressed more guilt than you’ve ever felt in your life. 

“I’m sorry, are you okay?” Carol asked timidly, irritation almost gone from her voice. 

“I’m fine, you didn’t hurt me.” You assured her, then held the doorknob closed, effectively trapping Carol between the door and you. “Look, I’m sorry for giving a bunch of random girls attention instead of you, tell you what, let’s ditch this stupid gala and go to that bar you like in Tony’s car.”

“Spicy,” Carol joked, a smile on her face and you knew you were forgiven. You opened the doorknob, leading Carol out of the gala. 

“Oh they are definitely going to end up dating today.” Clint commented, sipping his drink.

“You said that last week.” Maria added. 

“They kissed.”

“‘Only to get away from the bad guys’ as y/n puts it.” Natasha said. 

“It looked too intense for that.” Tony retorted. 

“You were watching?” Pepper asked, watching the two of you head out. 

 -~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

“Carol I swear the last time we did shots I ended up too drunk to walk.” You whined, leaning back against the stool at Carol’s favorite bar the city. It was fairly large to be honest, you were a bit overdressed but there were definitely people more overdressed than you. 

“You won’t this time I promise.” Carol assured you, nudging the tequila your way. 

“Fine,” You grumbled, watching Carol add some liquid from the flask into her drink before taking shots, repeating the action 2 times before you were almost drunk. You had enough to drown out all of your anxiety but any more would make you too wasted. 

You settled for talking at the bar with Carol, until some creepy overdressed guy came over and started flirting with you. You could smell the alcohol on his breath and inched away, only for him to slide a hand up your thigh. 

Carol grabbed his wrist from across you, you leaned back on instinct as Carol slammed his hand on the counter forcefully, breaking one of the glasses in doing so. He said he would sue her, she shrugged and made sure he had a few more shots to forget before leaving him drunk at the bar. 

“That was hot.” You joked, sipping some water thoughtfully as Carol sat down after making him chug vodka. She paid for the two of you and thanked the bartender for cleaning up. A song you didn’t know came up, it had a really slow beat, a lot of the dance floor paired up and slow danced. 

“I love this song, we have to go dance.” Carol said excitedly, getting off her chair and grabbing your wrist before dragging you over to the dance floor, leaving you no time to answer. 

“I don’t really dance.” You commented after Carol dragged you to the center of the dance floor. 

“C’mon, you taught me how to.” Carol said, sliding one arm around your waist and joining your hands and holding them up with her other hand. You sighed and put your hand on her shoulder, looking into Carol’s eyes. 

Her hazel eyes reflected all of the neon lights in such a way it made them look like they had a whole different, beautiful world in them. You smiled at her and leaned up to peck her cheek, making her blush. You decided then and there, you were in love with her, and you were probably the last person to find out. 

“I love you.” You confessed, looking up at Carol intensely. Her heart melted as she gave you a soft smile, thinking you meant it platonically. 

“I love you too.” Carol whispered, leaning down to kiss your forehead. 

“No, not in that sense.” You muttered, trying to find a proper way to explain as Carol frowned down at you. “In the way that Tony loves Pepper, or in the way that, damn I can’t think of another romantic couple we know.” You muttered, trying to think of another couple and ignoring Carol’s shocked face, a tear slipped down her cheek, she couldn’t help it. 

She had loved you, romantically ever since you stated she was your best friend, she knew she loved you whenever you were with her basically. Any time you cared for her, the way you treated her, she knew you were the one when you found out about her Kree past and instead of treating her like a monster, compared her to Darth Vader but quickly apologized, realizing that was insensitive and hugged her, terrified you’d hurt her. 

Carol had always thought her love was unrequited, so she settled for being best friends. It was the closest to you she could get without messing anything up. 

“I still love you too.” Carol answered, grinning at you. You frowned and caught her tear with the hand which was previously on her shoulder. 

“Then why are you crying?” You questioned innocently, frowning at the tear before looking up at her. 

“Because a few minutes ago, I was in love with someone who didn’t love me back,” Carol explained, her grin growing all the while. “Now, I’m in love with someone who loves me back.”

You grinned and leaned up to kiss her on the lips, like you had wanted to for some time. Carol kissed you back feverishly, hand letting go of yours and embedding itself in your hair. Your hands wrapped around her neck, pulling your bodies together as close as you could. 

Carol’s lips tasted like whiskey and whatever liquid Thor had given her and the lipstick you’d lended her. You kissed her until you couldn’t breathe anymore, then leaning her head on her shoulder and swaying as she rested her head on top of yours. 

“I’m so happy you’re mine.” You whispered against her neck, kissing it softly before pulling away and facing her, the neon lights lighting up Carol’s face beautifully. 

“I was always yours.” Carol whispered back, pecking your lips as the two of you continued to dance the entire night.

A/N: This took me almost an HOUR, jesus christ. This was hardly what the anon wanted but i spent too long to delete it so it might be kinda bad.

Tag list: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @5aftermidnight, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers, @veryfunnyal let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

[darkshadow90]

Break Out Arthur Fleck/Joker x reader One Shot

Summary: You’re visiting a friend in Arkham since she was checked in a few days ago. As you start to leave, everything goes south. Joker is on the loose, and with most of the security overwhelmed, you’re stuck hoping you can get out safely.

A/N: Hey, guys. This is my first one shot about Arthur in Arkham at the end of Joker. I’ve had a hard time with writing him based on that personality since the glimpse we get of him full Joker is so brief. But it’s better to give it a shot than not try at all, right? Arthur will probably be darker in this story than what most people are used to. But I know some of you have been looking forward to this story, too. This is also my first story with a reader pairing, so It’s probably not gonna be the best thing out there. The reader is female and so is her friend. The reader’s friend doesn’t have a name. It can be whatever you want. Also I use a mobile device, so I’m sorry there’s no word count, gifs, or photos, and that this doesn’t look as nice as stories other people have written. This is a lot easier for me. There will be some violence, but nothing too bad...hopefully. I’ll let you decide the reader’s fate at the end.  I hope you like it 😊 The weekend had finally come after a grueling work week. One of your friends had been checked into Arkham due to stress and anxiety. She was dealing with a lot of stress at work, and was increasingly worried about bills and life in general. She called you earlier that week and told you she might be on the verge of a mental breakdown. For her safety, the two of you decided it would be best if she checked into Arkham. You had the weekend off, so you decided to go visit her. What you didn’t know was that it going to be one of the most intense days of your life.

You showered, and dressed yourself in a long sleeved shirt, a pair of jeans and a regular pair of shoes. It was nice to wear something more casual than the more formal dress shirts and heels you were required to wear to work. You finished getting ready, ate breakfast, and left your apartment. The bus ride to Arkham was relatively quiet. Gotham was usually very crowded, but on this particular Saturday, it wasn’t too loud or crowded. Maybe a lot of people took the weekend off. You couldn’t blame them. It seemed like everyone was spending every waking hour working, so if they needed a break, why fault them for it?

You finally made it to Arkham. The streets still looked dirty, and they were busy as usual. That hadn’t changed. You shook your head and kept going. You went inside to ask the receptionist which floor your friend was on. She told you she was on the fifth floor. You took the elevator. It stopped on the third floor the doors opened. Two men walked in. One of them was handcuffed, dressed in white scrubs. He must have been an inmate. The other man was standing behind him. He was a bit larger. He was an orderly.

The doors closed. The man in handcuffs was standing next to you. You got a better look at him. He had dark hair with bits of gray in it. He had gray stubble on his face. He was looking straight ahead, staring at the doors. He didn’t seem to notice you. You looked away. Something about him made you feel uneasy. You didn’t know what it was. Because of your small size, you learned to be especially careful of anyone who might seem like a threat. You were grateful the orderly was there with the two of you. The elevator finally came to your floor and the doors opened. You got out without looking at the two men. You didn’t want to draw attention to yourself, especially because the man in handcuffs was next to you. You felt like someone was watching you. Against your better judgement, you turned around. Sure enough, the man in handcuffs was staring at you, smiling. It wasn’t a friendly smile. His eyes were dark and cold. You felt chills go down your spine. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction he made you unsettled. “Don’t even think about it. Let’s go.” The man behind him said. He didn’t reply, he just kept staring at you until the doors closed. It was only a few seconds, but that brief moment felt like hours. ‘What was that guy’s problem? The cream definitely slid off his Oreo. What a weirdo,’ you thought.

You walked down the hall to your friend’s room. She told you she was feeling a lot better. They gave her some medication for anxiety and referred her to a therapist. She said she could go home in a few days. That made you feel so much better to know she was getting the help she needed. Plus, you didn’t want her anywhere near that weird guy. You told her about your unpleasant encounter with him. She said he was locked up on the maximum security floor. He was isolated from all the other inmates. Only authorized personnel were allowed on that floor. That was a relief. After you were sure she was going to be okay, you told her you would be back to pick her up in a few days. You went to use the bathroom.

When you came out, you heard a voice over the intercom. “Emergency! An inmate has escaped from the observation room on the maximum security floor! All inmates’ rooms will be securely locked until he is apprehended. Please remain calm.” The woman could barely keep herself calm. There you were, stuck in an empty hallway. Thankfully your friend was safe. But that also meant you couldn’t go back to her room and wait it out. ‘Shit what do I do? He could be anywhere.’ You didn’t waste any time. You ran down the hallway, back to the elevator. ‘Okay. Which would be the quickest way out of here? It will probably be too risky to wait for the elevator. On the other hand, that guy could already be taking the stairs.’ The lights dimmed. ‘Screw it. The stairs it is, then.’

You sprinted down each flight. You couldn’t blame people for taking the elevator with so many stairs to climb. It was exhausting, but you had to keep going. You finally made it. Now you just needed to get through a few more hallway doors, and you would be home free. At least, you hoped you were. You knew you were on the main floor, so the main entrance couldn’t be much further away, according to the directory. You took a moment to catch your breath. You were creeped out by the emptiness of the hallway. The dim lighting only made it worse. You swallowed your fear and continued down the hallway. You carefully looked around for any sign of him. So far, so good.  The next hallway wasn’t as easy to get through. You turned through the corners.   You thought you had made it. Until you saw him walking down the path in front of you. ‘Of course this would have to happen. I can’t go that way. If I do, he’ll see me. If he turns around he’ll see me. Shit.’ You looked to your right and saw a door. You made a run for it. It was unlocked and you went inside. It was an office. ‘That was close. I can hide in here until it’s over.’ There was a phone on the desk. Your anxiety skyrocketed as you heard footsteps from outside. You got down on your hands and knees and crawled to the desk. You hid underneath it. “Knock knock.” You thought your heart was going to explode. You didn’t say anything. If he didn’t find you right away, maybe he would leave. ‘Please, go away...please. Why me?’  You were taken out of your thoughts when you were suddenly pulled out from under the desk. You cried out and thrashed around as you were pulled against the man behind you. “Shhhh shhhh, little kitten,” he cooed. “You were the only visitor to come here, and today was the day I planned on getting out of here. Can’t have you calling the police and ruining it. I’m gonna need you to go to sleep for a little while.” That voice. You knew that voice. Of course you wouldn’t have recognized him without the red suit, clown makeup and  green hair. “You wanna hear a joke?” He was the Joker, you couldn’t doubt it then. You were panicking even more. “This one is a killer. Knock knock.” You felt your stomach drop. “Who’s...who’s there?” “It’s me. Joker.” You didn’t have time to react. His grip around you tightened. “W...why?” Tears fell from your eyes, and everything went black.

[danddymaro]

Sharing | Steve Rogers x Reader x (Platonic) Tony Stark

Summary: Jealousy is not something reserved for lovers. 

Word count :  4746

Tony is struggling with the idea of losing one of his best friends. All he knows is that Steve Rogers has turned her against him, stealing her away and he makes a final attempt to get her back. 

Its a non- romantic relationship with the reader and w/ tony stark and a small touch of the reader w/ Steve. Cause hey, guys and gals can be best friends! I I’m sorry if it seemed like anything aside from platonic      

I, of course, own nothing but the story itself. The characters mentioned and used are not my property.  

His body swayed as he trudged forward, a bottle of strong whiskey in hand whilst his other dragged along the walls, supporting himself so he could keep his body staggering upwards. Had the structure not existed, he would have toppled over by now, and probably passed out then and there, lying the rest of the night on the sidewalk.

Forgotten, and left to join the scattered trash of the city...

He had dropped his phone a long time ago, but even so, he wouldn't care enough to go back and find it. Besides, It wasn't like he expected a call, not any time soon at least...

Because who actually gave a damn to check up on him? Who really cared about him that much?

Moreover, why would he go back for the thing? He could just buy another one.

In fact, he could buy anything he wanted...

"Just about everything, " He grumbled, knowing it wasn't entirely true. Because there were just certain things out there that were out-of-bounds and priceless.

Priceless like all the things which had been taken from him,

The echoing sound of joy, more specifically stifled laughter rang in his ears, momentarily stunning him. And though the sound was melodically playing, sounding on a tortuously endless loop, he knew well enough that if he turned to search for her, she'd be nowhere in sight.

Instead, he'd find nothing but darkness all around him which lay in wait.

Besides, he was certain she was somewhere else, somewhere out of his hold and reach and gradually drawing away from him further.

Just the thought alone made him tighten his hand around the bottle's neck, hoping to crush it to pieces, wanting to feel something besides the numbing feeling that had settled over his body.

Knocking on the door a fifth time, he was greeted with the sight of another man rather than the lovely (light/dark) eyed beauty he had been in search of.

And they stared at each other, both with looks of surprise settled over them as the unexpected visit occurred.

The tall blonde standing opposite of him had his blue eyes opened wide in startle as he had seen who had so furiously knocked on the apartment's entry door. As for Stark, the look of shock was very short-lived and had only lasted a fourth of a minute onto his tired face before a look of annoyance crossed over him instead.

"Of course," he muttered with an abrupt and foul stench-ridden belch.

'Of course, I'd find him here...' he thought with bitterness.

It was practically the cherry on top...

"Move aside pretty boy," he said gruffly, trying to shove the blonde, but failing miserably.

Before him the first avenger refused to move, blocking the drunken man access to the inside of her home, going as far as to put out his arm to hold the doorway, the limb serving as a security rope.

"I'm going to need you to calm down first," Steve said with concern, his voice low as he quickly took notice of the agitated state the other man was in.

"I said move," Stark said with tightly clenched teeth, glaring right into the blonde's brightly colored eyes with his bloodshot ones, meeting nothing but opposition.

"I'm not going to let you see her like that," Steve responded back with a harsh whisper,

"Oh ...really?" stark said with a forced grin, "Fine then," he said through tightened teeth, "(F/N)! " He exclaimed, "(F/N)!" He cried out with distress because if he couldn't get to her, she'd make him come to him.

He just needed to see her...he needed to know the truth.

He didn't come to see Steve Rogers, he had already had enough of him. He came to see (f/n) and wouldn't leave until he was able to get a word in with her.

(f/n) sped walked out from the hall leading to her room, having just washed her hands before she exited the restroom, wiping her hands onto her sweatpants.

" Steve what's goi- Tony..?" she said with surprise, her pace quickening even more as she went towards her home's entrance to meet the visiting man. She ducked beneath Steve's arm, immediately touching Stark's face with still moist, yet anxious hands.

"Good god, what have you done to yourself?" she asked him, her brows creased with worry, not knowing what was worse, the fact that he was ass drunk, the odd stench of earth, sweat, and alcohol, or the filthy appearance he was currently in.

"And you!" she said whipping around to look at Steve, fire in her eyes as she spoke, " What are you doing? He needs to come inside!" she told him, to which the blond placed his left hand at his temple, closing his eyes with a sigh.

"(f/n), I was going to let him in, but I didn't want him causing a scene inside... I was just worried about you," he told her. " And then he started yelling," he added with an apologetic, tightened smile.

A soft smile melted over her, her tensed shoulders falling as she gazed at the tall blonde, "Oh Steve..." she said softly, shaking her head. "You shouldn't worry about me, " she added airily.

A snicker then drew her eyes back to Tony, and before she could ask him just what lead to him ending up in his state and right at her doorway, he cut her off from the first breath,

" You know, you used to look at me like that," he said out loud, his voice rising a smidge above his normal volume, afterward swallowing down the bitter spit that was laced with harsh liquor. He felt his eyes sting as he admitted that the jovial twinkle in her eyes wasn't reserved for him anymore.

It hadn't been his for what felt like a long time now... And what was worse, it changed ownership and now belonged to a complete stranger, one that came unannounced and violently shook their lives.

In the end, it had become possessed by a man not meant to live in the same time they were, and Stark couldn't help but think it was a cruel play from above.

It seemed that a powerful force beyond their existence was moving pieces to play merciless tricks on him, wanting to watch him slowly crumble.

And like brittle autumn leaves, he began to break apart,

"You used to laugh at every one of my jokes and pretend I was a bigshot," he added with a dry chuckle, missing how easily she became amused with him. Moreover, how lively his home became when she visited him regularly.

Sometimes she dropped in unannounced, something he showed annoyance in, but truly loved and would do anything to get back again. In fact, a single appearance from her would have sufficed, because anything was better than the empty space he was left to occupy.

He was left alone, unable to cope with all the surrounding darkness.

Two weeks prior, the other women in his life had sat him down, her lovely brown eyes dimming, the lovely glow in them trailing away from him as she told him how much she loved him.

She reminded him of how deep her sentiment for him was, rising out from him as she reminded him of both of their past mistakes because she too hadn't been at her best at times.

But it was something he disagreed with,

Virginia Potts was perfection in his eyes...

She held his hands in hers, touching her forehead to his, repeating once again how much she loved him before drawing back, with his hands refusing to let go.

" We need to take a break, Tony," she told him, and he could tell it didn't just hurt him, but that it pained her as well. "It's just for now," she told him, her bags set right at the side of the door.

And he could do nothing more than to agree with her because he wasn't worth it.

He couldn't beg her to stay with him when he knew that the only times she'd come close to danger was because she was at his side.

"Call me when you get there," he told her as he watched her walk away.

Her body seemed to stiffen as she stopped abruptly.

He could hear the sound of her strong inhale, which was just as shaky as her hands had been when she had touched him.

Her shoulders squared and he could tell she was doing her damnedest to hold herself together, to not only make it as painless as possible for herself but for his own sake as well.

"A text ?" he said afterward, a dried breath of false amusement making it past his lips.

"Yeah..." she said softly, "I...I'll call you..." she added looking back at him one last time, a painfully strained smile tightening over her face.

But of course, she didn't...

They had compromised her trip would serve as the perfect time for her to sit down and think, but from her lack of response, he understood well what her decision was and where they stood.

And on that same day, (f/n) practically blew him off. He'd notice her distancing herself from him, gradually becoming more of a stranger than he would have ever liked.

'Just as she started spending time with him...' Tony noted, still agitated, glaring darkly at the other man.

" ...and then Mr. perfect here showed up, and you forget about me, " he said pointing at the quiet blonde, staring at him with wavering eyes as he ranted.

'You said you loved me... that I mattered to you, that I was everything you needed,' He thought bitterly.

"You don't know him like you know me... he doesn't know you like I do either... so why (f/n)?" Tony said sniveling, tightly holding onto the doorway. " Why have you ditched me to hang out with him? Him of all people!" He asked, feeling a budding resentment as he remembered just how much his father talked on and on about the man.

He talked all about the untouchable perfection the man supposedly had been...

Howard Stark constantly stayed in remembrance of the great super-soldier, overlooking the son he had at his side.

The same son that was trying his hardest for a speck of attention... just a single word of acknowledgment meant just for him. Admittedly, he would have given it all to hear his father praise him just half as much as he did the 'oh so glorious' Steve Rogers.

But that part of his life was long gone, and now he had her left, and he wouldn't give his fight for her.

"...Am I not funny anymore?" He started, cracking a faint smile, one full of sorrow, once again remembering that there hadn't been uncontrollable laughter echoing in his now empty home for months, only dry silence.

"...Or is it that I annoy you now?" He said suddenly, not waiting for her reply regarding his previous question, but waiting with a stilled breath to hear her answer his second assumption.

He was afraid to know she couldn't stand him any longer and that he was nothing more than a burden to her, an annoying wart that wouldn't go away no matter how much she tried to ignore it.

swallowing hard he waited, giving her a moment to reply back, needing to hear the sound of her voice.

Was it his ego?

Was it his stupid pride?

Was he, himself a horrible friend to her? Was that it?

Had he pushed her away for being too damn selfish? Too inconsiderate?

"Tell me, please..." he begged, watching the way Steve came closer to her, subtly drawing her away from him, his hand brushing with hers. With narrowed eyes at the small movement, Tony clamped his teeth together, "....What has he told you to make you despise me so much?" he continued, letting his hold on the half-empty bottle slip.

It crashed down and shattered instantly, letting it's contents spill, splashing over his clothes as well as hers, small specks growing visible in the material.

He took a step forward, pushing himself from the doorway to come closer to her. Crunches beneath his feet sounded as his weight shattered larger pieces down to smaller shards, creating more of a mess.

The staggering man stepped forward, towards the shocked young woman, and shamefully she looked down at her feet, taking in everything he had just said, no longer able to stand the sight of him.

And at her sides, her hands shook, fisting into tightly wound balls.

Her shoulders also shook, trembling as she sucked in a heavy breath, shuttering as though a cold wind had gone through her.

A hand landed on her shoulder, making her glance to the side, where right behind her where the other man had stood, quietly observing everything, wanting to interject, but holding himself back.

"(f/n)..." he said, beginning to say her name, all before she shook him off, slowly shaking her head in denial.

' I really didn't know...' She thought, looking towards the sniffling brunette, her heart almost breaking in two.

She wasn't aware of how much she'd hurt the man.

If anything she believed her distancing was needed. Being around him all the time, much more with his girlfriend there... she was a third wheel and a hindrance to their relationship. She knew boundaries and understood that she couldn't always latch onto the man...it just wasn't right, especially when he would have to build his own life...

His own family...

She also figured that if she wasn't there, then she wouldn't have to worry about him too much either, trusting the other woman could handle her partner well enough on her own. But now she had him at her doorstep, and a complete mess.

His eyes were red and bloodshot, and his clothes were a wrinkled mess. The knees of his sweatpants were stained with green, and she knew he had fallen somewhere on his way to her home, probably more than once.

The man was as stubborn as a mule, and more than likely willed himself to make it to her.

"Say something, (f/n)," Tony said hiccuping, wanting to hear her voice again, wanting her to say something, and he'd settle for just about anything by that point.

Shaking her head she approached him, taking a hold of his shoulders and bringing him in for a crushing hold, making his wheeze.

With the hold he melted down onto her, bringing his arms to wrap around her with desperation, burying his face into (long/ short) strands, smelling once again the light berry scent of her (dark/ light) hair now tickling at his nose. His hands scrunched up her top, fisting them in shaky hands, overwhelmed by the thought that it wasn't some sort of mirage or dream.

She was actually there with him, caring for him once again, making him feel existent.

The warmth of a body pressed to his felt comforting, and there was a recharge gradually supplying him with more life, "(f/n)..." he started, cut off by her.

Slapping him upside the head she growled, pushing herself off from him and giving him teary eyes.

"You're so stupid!" she said holding him out at arm's length.

"You...You fucking idiot!" She added hearing her voice crack."You stupid idiot... I...I can't even..." she repeated again huffing, " Don't go showing up on my doorstep like this again!" she cried." You know I hate seeing you like this! Seeing you a stupid mess !" She exclaimed, her fingers digging into his shoulders as her grip became stronger.

Both her hands then released him, flying over to her forehead, pressing over the sides of her forehead with them, partially obscuring part of her face as she did so.

It wasn't the first time he'd gotten drunk and showed up at her doorstep, because as incredibly amazing as the man's life was to the outside world, behind the scenes Tony Stark was just another person.

And he was vulnerable, finding confinement in so few people, treasuring them in high pedestals, knowing it was all he truly had.

Something that only made it harder when they fell off.

Her words became mute to him as she continued to lecture him, arms flailing up in a show of her livid exaggeration. He could even see an angry vain begin to pop up and he couldn't help but smile.

Slowly the corners of his mouth began to lift up watching her as she continued to lecture him, breathing hard with exhaust as she ranted on.

"Are you even paying attention to me?!" she questioned him with a glare. Nodding furiously he continued to smile. With a strong heave, she huffed out in annoyance.

"Of course you're not!" she said shaking her head before her eyes bulged, "Oh fuck," she breathed, grabbing his hand and running with him to the sink.

"I seriously hate you!" she grumbled, rubbing circled onto his back nonetheless. With a sigh she helped him stand still as he emptied his stomach onto her poor sink, luckily getting him to not make a mess around the perimeter.

It was a few moments of uncomfortable sounds before she rubbed her wet hand over his mouth while the faucet ran, cleaning him up of the nasty remains.

"You stay here," she told him, pointing to her living room chair while she grabbed a water bottle with her other hand. "Got it?" she added, and obediently he nodded, wiping mouth dry before holding the container.

She then seemed to deflate, her shoulders sinking as she turned, " I'll go run him a bath...he's filthy," she said with a half-hearted smile, silently apologizing for the blue-eyed man, too embarrassed to even begin with an apology.

Nodding towards her, he offered her his own smile, not bothered at all. The worry she had written all over her face bothered him the most, that was his only concern anyways.

She went to her room first, hoping to find him something to wear as well as a spare towel for him. "Probably a blanket too," she muttered to herself, nodding, knowing that he'd probably stay the night.

She was angry with him, but wouldn't dream of kicking him out.

Back at the living room, the two men sat alone in complete silence, none knowing where to begin. With thick tension, the two men stayed quiet, until the blonde spoke, sounding somewhat uncertain as he spoke,

" Tony...I don't know what your thinking-"

" She really likes you," Stark said, cutting him off, sounding just a bit steadier than when he'd been rambling, slowly sobering up, much of it being the fact that he retched out most of what he consumed.

"What are you talking about?" Steve said with raised brows, watching the other man give him a side glance, halfheartedly glaring at him.

"You have to be stupid to not know," He said below his breath, shaking his head.

Another pregnant silence was born, cut off by the brunette as he released a small breath of amusement,

"You know...I'm the only other person that's been here," he replied, scanning his eyes over the living space, knowing every corner of the room, almost like a second home.

" She doesn't like having people in her living space." he started, " She says it makes her feel vulnerable." He added softly, stopping his eyes at a small framed picture placed over the surface of her desk.

At the moment his heart stopped for a second as he glared at it, and before he knew it he stood, slowly inching his way to it. Walking towards it with slow steps, he kept his eyes trained on the picture, picking it up with a trembling hand.

' She really kept this...' he thought with a tight smile.

It had been a few days before her birthday when she burst through his lab's doors, not giving him a second to react before she latched onto him. Her tears stained his shirt, marking them with little dark spots mixed with salted water and smudged liner.

That day he dropped everything, instantly focusing on her.

And he stayed up all night with her, just like she had with him before...

They went through an arrangement of movies, things he wouldn't have ever wanted to touch in his life, but he knew she needed him, and there wasn't any way he could say no to her.

So without refusal, he sat with her till dawn, watching on his largest screen, an entire bucket of ice cream shared between them.

By morning time there was a mess of wrappers, salted, and sweet junk that would give a nutritionist a heart attack. He would do anything and everything to get her to feel better, and when she let out that first smile, he felt his tightened heart grow lighter.

And she never pointed a finger towards him, instead swearing she forgives him, even if he wasn't the one who broke her heart to begin with.

She excluded him from any fault, but he never forgave himself...

" You know... A while ago I introduced her to this guy." He started. " He actually seemed perfect for her...at the time at least. He was Good looking, smart, good family.

She gave him everything...even what she couldn't give, willing to do just about anything to keep him, all while the bastard played with her.

He lead her on for a whole year, and it was my fault. I played matchmaker and ended up being the reason she was heartbroken." Stark said suddenly. " He was cheating on her left and right, using her, and during then, being the idiot I was, I unknowingly covered for him," he admitted.

Attentive, Steve nodded,"Yeah?" he said softly.

" It was an entire mess, and she doesn't know this," He said beginning to smile, " But I told him I'd kick his ass, and that I was going to bury him and everything he was into the dirt if he ever came close to her gain," he added.

"I'm guessing that was the end of it?" Steve asked, somewhat amused.

"Well, when you're cornered and have a man in a full-bodied armored suit pointing a missile at you point-blank...it's pretty hard to say no," he said blankly, making Steve shake his head with a held back chuckle while stark laughed wholeheartedly.

"You like her too right, right capsule?" He then asked suddenly, eyeing the other man with intense coffee-colored eyes.

The laughter ceased right then and there,

And at first, there was nothing but silence, three full minutes full of nothing but quiet staring until Steve gave a small, dry chuckle, breaking first,"I guess you could say." he admitted, giving Tony a rather awkward smile, one that was lopsided.

Crossing his arms Stark leaned back, giving the first Avenger a look that spoke for itself.

'Really now?' it questioned him.

At the rise of his dark brow, Steve dropped his head down, this time with a genuine sound of laughter leaving him, "What am I saying?" Steve said to himself.

He took a deep breath, sitting himself right back up with a pin-straight back, a look of complete assurance washing over him.

" Alright, look, I'll just say it... I do like her. I like her more than a friend, alright? But right now, well, we're still just getting to know each other." He specified. "But if we're being completely honest here, I'm waiting for the right moment to make the right move." He added.

"So you've got a crush on her ?" Tony asked flatly.

" Crush makes it sound juvenile, but I suppose, " Steve huffed. "Yeah," He said with a nod.

"well...You wouldn't be the worst thing that happened to her," Tony said quietly. "I think she could do a lot worse," he said arrogantly.

Rolling his eyes, Steve smirked, " That's a compliment right?" He asked, making the wealthy man slap a hand onto his shoulder.

"That's as close to one that you'll get from me," he said smiling faintly.

"Then I guess I'll take it," Steve answered back.

"Look, I just... I just don't want to lose her, alright?" The brunette confessed, sounding just as hurt as he truly felt. " I don't really have family left, at least what I can count on. To put it simply, she's been there from thick to thin, and I can't say too many people have done that for me." He said lowly. "I'll fight tooth and nail for that woman, " he admitted, hunching over to place his arms on his knees leisurely. "And that means I'll go through you too," he added, giving the blonde man a look of sincerity, laying it all out bare.

"Anyone and everyone," he said with a weary chuckle. "That's just how it is," he added.

With a faint smile of his own, Steve nodded, " I know," he said softly. " I can tell you really care about her. " he said nodding, "And I can respect that.".

Shaking his head, the other man spoke," You got it wrong there big man, " Tony corrected him.

"I don't know if you've ever felt that way about anyone." he started, " It's not like you've got the same blood coursing through you, but even so, It's Like They're your twin in a way.

You smile with them...

You laugh, you cry...

You just feel like a world without them feels empty.

You know, I can't look at her without thinking about how much better my life would have been if I'd have had her there from the beginning." He went on, "I think that if I would have had here there as my little snotty faced little sibling, I don't...I just think that, well, maybe I wouldn't have sunken as low as I did back then.

I love her, and like I said, I'd do anything to see her happy, and I'm willing to fight anyone else that threatens that joy." He said with certainty.

"I wouldn't dream of hurting her," Steve told the other man, " What'd much more, I'd never try and come between the two of you because you mean the world to her." He informed Stark, "In fact, she's told me something similar to what you just said, and I can guarantee you she's willing to do just as much as you are, all for you're own sake." he said with certainty.

Tony's hand landed on Steve's shoulder before he stood up with a sure nod, " Do me a favor, and take care of her," he said giving him a smile, truly meaning the expression as he felt himself trusting the man.

With one in return, Steve nodded, " I don't have any other intention," He said sincerely.

(F/n) leaned towards the arch separating her living room from her room, her head leaning to the side.

Again she felt her eyes grow wet, but this time the aching in her heart was bursting with everything but sorrow. Wiping away the little strays of drops, she stepped forward, giving the wall a tight tap, making both men turn towards her.

"Hey..." she started. " I've set the bath for you, and I've got some blankets, and clothes for you too, " she said softly, "Please stay the night Tony," she urged him.

Shaking his head, he grinned. " Nah, let me call Happy ..." he said looking between the two, reaching his pant pocket for his phone, but found it empty.

" Ah, I forgot..." he muttered.

Shaking her head, she walked over to him, handing him her cell. "I figured you lost it," she commented. He reached for the phone, giving it a quick swipe to open it finding their picture saved as her wallpaper.

It was an unflattering one of the both of them and in the past, he would have never figured out why in the world she didn't trash it. However, after a few second of gazing at it, truly looking onto the shot of them both, he found the beauty of it, the lovely silliness of their relationship captured by a single image,

'I guess I have to get used to sharing you,' He mused, seeing that he was right to assume there was something between the two people.

But he couldn't be happier.

[blissfulparker]

Highschool Sweetheart→p.p.

Parings→Peter Parker x reader

Summary→you write little notes in your yearbook about each person. But what does peters say?

Warnings→fluff

A/n→this was originally a concept post. Someone sent this in and this is the cutest! I forgot who sent it because the person did come off anon so if you’re out there let me know so I can give you the credit for the idea! Update! Their @ is @softstefcn

“Ned we need to do something!” Peters voice cracks as he scoots his desk closer to Ned’s during algebra. Ned perks up and looks at his best friend with a distraught look.

At the end of the year, just about every student bought a yearbook. A large hardcover book with all the high school memories in it. You had one just like everyone else, although you were treating yours differently. You and Betty joked around, you made notes on students you knew. You drew on flashes face, ‘rich brat who is Spider-Man’s fanboy’. Or how you doodled all over brads photo, ‘once a dork, now kinda hot.’ He knew you had to have written one about him.you two were friends and had written one about MJ and Ned, so there was definitely one about him.

He even heard you giggling about it with Betty at lunch the other day.

“What about peter?” She giggled and you look up with wide eyes.

“Our peter?” You asked and Betty nodded as she flipped to a picture of pete.

“Peter Parker...”

Was all he heard before ned rudely interrupted his spying that day and now it hasn’t left his mind.

“What?” Ned looked up and peter looked back over to you.

“(Y/n)’s yearbook. I need it.” He says and ned grows a soft smirk.

“Oh, I see. You wanna write your phone number. That’s cute peter but a little cliché—“ He starts and peter shakes his head.

“No, no, (y/n) and Betty wrote something about me and I wanna know what they wrote.” He looks over and sees you work on the problem. Your lip between your teeth, that meant you didn’t understand yet we’re too scared to ask the teacher for help. He knew your body language very well.

He wanted to know so badly, he wanted to know if you wrote anything about liking him. Or maybe you wrote something about how much you hate him. He needed to know.

“You want to take her yearbook so you can see if they wrote something about you? Of course they did.” Ned says and peter peeks up with a soft smile.

“Do you know what they wrote?” Peter asks and ned shrugs.

“No, but in chemistry I over heard her giggle while she wrote something down and it started with ‘peter Parker...’ that’s all I heard. I don’t know what they wrote but I know they wrote something.” Ned says and peter goes down.

“That’s What I heard at lunch too! Please, I need to know. I wanna ask her out but I don’t know if she likes me.” Peter says and ned rolls his eyes hearing the same conversation as usual when it came to peters little—huge—crush on you.

“Then ask her if she likes you. It’s kinda obvious that she does. That pink skirt you told her she looked good in? She wears that all the time because of you, Betty told me.” Ned says going back to the math problem.

“She does that?” He smiles thinking about you in the pink skirt. “Anyways, I need my hands on that book.” He says and ned puts his paper back in the folder knowing he’s not getting anything done.

“Peter, I get it, you want help from a man who experienced love...” Ned starts and peter furrows his Brows.

“That’s not what I wanted—“

“Just ask to sign her yearbook, I’ll distract her, then when you see what she wrote and I’m sure it’s not terrible. Then ask her on a date to that coffee shop she likes.” Ned gives him advice and peter sees how it’s not that bad.

“Okay, next period in history?” Peter asks and ned nods as the bell rings as if its on cue.

Peter has never been more excited for history. He takes a seat at his desk and taps his foot eagerly waiting for you to waltz on in holding the midtown high yearbook.

There you were, blue sweater and blue jeans, the outfit was simple but peter looked at you like you were the only girl in the world.

“(Y/n)!” Peter smiled as he walked over to your desk.

“Hey pete.” You smile and he looks down at the book.

“Can I sign your—“ He starts but then the last bell rings.

“Parker, take a seat.” The teacher spoke and peter sighed as he made his way back to his desk and sat down in the metal chair. Instead of listening to the teacher he spent his whole lecture looking at you, the way you took notes and the way you would bite your lip when something confused you. He wanted so badly to know what was written in that book about him.

He watched as the worksheet went out as it was now his time to get his hands on that book.

“(Y/n)!” Peter started but quickly brad came in front of him seeming to be wanting the same thing. Peters jaw clenched as he walked over to ned.

“Ned! I need your help!” He whispered and ned looked over to you who seemed a little too friendly with brad.

“Oh right!” Ned smiles as he gets up from his desk and makes his way to start talking to you. Ned inneruped brad and with the sly movement of his hand, he pushed the book over to peter.

Peter signed his name with a small note on the last page before quickly flipping to the ‘pa’ last names.

He skimmed though all of it until he found his awkward year book picture surrounded by hearts.

‘Peter Parker, the prettiest and sweetest boy I know.(also really suspicious)’

was written in black and silver sharpie and it made peters heart flip. You thought he was pretty, wasn’t exactly what he was going for but he looked at other people’s and no one else had Hearts around their pictures and it seemed to be everyone of peters pictures had hearts, you had drew little hearts around the field trip to the stark tower around peters picture.

‘My sweetest pumpkin boy!’ Made peters heart flip as you wrote ‘pumpkin’ as an inside joke from the eighth grade when aunt may made all of you carve pumpkins and peter ended up doing yours to try and show off. That was before he acted weird around people.

Peter grew red and then all of the sudden the last bell rang. You stood up and peter handed you back your yearbook.

“Oh, you signed it?” You asked and he nodded. His beet red face made you nervous, he looked nervous which made you nervous.

“Yep, my signature is under Ned’s.” He smiles akwardly and you nodded.

“Okay...I was wondering if you did the worksheet for math? I need help and you’re the only—“ you start and peter can’t help the word vomit that comes next.

“I think you’re really pretty too!” He squeaks and your mouth falls open and you start to feel embarrassed. He saw what you did to his pictures, like a fifth grade girl, drawing little hearts and love notes around your crush.

You liked peter, a lot, any time you’d try and ask him out he’d get weird and quickly run away. You thought maybe he didn’t like you but he did it to a lot of people. He’d just look down at his phone or look down at his arms that always seemed to have goosebumps even in the hottest weather.

“W-what?” You ask as you start to move out of the classroom.

“You wrote that you thought I was pretty, I think you’re pretty too.” He blushes hard and you smile. You don’t really know what to say, you’ve imagined peter asking you out, hell you’ve dreamed about it every night. But now that it was happening, you feel like you don’t have the right words.

“I—uh...was just playing around!” You grip the book right to your chest. You and peter step off to the side. Peter can’t get his eyes off of you, his eyes locked with yours no matter how hard you try and break eye contact.

“I think you’re pretty, handsome? Whatever. I just didn’t think you liked me.” You tapped your finger nails against the book.

“Why would you think I don’t like you?” He asks and you give him a dumbfounded look.

“Because everytime I try and talk to you alone you run away, it’s kinda rude pete. Actually, it’s really rude—“ something in peter snapped, his heart pounding as he leaned in and pressed a quick peck to your lips.

Your eyes are wide, forgetting what you said before. You felt peter Parker’s lips against yours. The boy you had a crush on sinice middle school kissed you.

“I like—“ He starts but you lean in and kiss him like he did you. Peter let his hands find the side of your arms pulling him closer to you.

“Hey! You two!” Mr. Harrington pointed and you immediately pulled yourself away from peter. “Go home.” He said as if he was tired of catching teens makeout in the hallway.

You have a soft smile on your face as peter is still holding your arms.

“Uhh, you said you needed help with that worksheet from math?” He asked and you laughed s little before letting your hand touch his cheek and then finding His hand and walking down the hall.

“Let’s go, loser.” You smile as you hold peters hand down the hall.

“We should go to your favorite coffee place?” He suggests and you smile knowing that either Betty or Ned told him to tell you that.

“Sure, you can help me and kiss me all you want over a hazelnut latte.”

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[fanders-fic-awards]

Logan Holmes and the Mystery of the Disappearing Book (Summer Fic Comp 18)

Summary: Logan conducts his biggest investigation at eight years old. (Kid!fic, platonic LAMP)

Trigger warnings: Bullying, Deceit, other Dark Sides (imagined), family death mention

Word count: 4982

Ballot

It is not a typical day. Well, Logan Holmes thinks, it’s typical enough in some ways: the Florida sun is as obnoxious as it always is, and the fading chatter of his classmates still echoes down the hallways, along which he’s retracing his steps with increasing agitation. The reason it is not a typical day is that today Logan can’t find his Book, and logically, it only follows that the end times are near.

This wouldn’t be a problem if it were any book. But this Book is not any book, which makes it just that much worse; Logan could have sworn he’d zipped it up in his school bag’s secret pocket at the end of fifth period, but by the end of the day his secret pocket was empty, and Logan has just finished searching his classroom and the music room and his favourite recess reading spot and everywhere he’s been after fifth period, and he just can’t find it.

He rubs at his eyes in frustration. He can feel his throat starting to close up and his eyes starting to burn, and he knows that’s not good. The last time that had happened he had ended up crying loudly in front of the whole class, and the meanest boy in class, Jason, had laughed at him, and then his head had hurt and it had been the worst thing ever. And Logan is smart and he learns from his mistakes, so he knows that if he doesn’t want that happening ever again (and he doesn’t), then he needs to calm down right now.

He ducks into the bathroom and glares at himself in the mirror.

“Stop,” he tells his reflection firmly, echoing his father’s voice. “Tantrums are not a good look on you,” and he splashes his face methodically with water.

He is not going to cry. What would Sherlock Holmes say?

The thought grounds him, makes him stand a little straighter and fix his rumpled shirt and bowtie. Sherlock Holmes wouldn’t be so easily daunted. Sherlock Holmes is a superhero. He wouldn’t be panicking at all; he would be calm and do some cool investigation to figure out what happened to his Book. So Logan will just have to do the same.

He wipes his hands on his pants and carefully puts his glasses back on. Puffs on an imaginary pipe. Nods thoughtfully at his reflection, which nods back as if to say: simply marvellous, Holmes. This shall be our most challenging case yet.

“Yes, indeed,” he murmurs back to himself, and then purely for the fun of it: “Elementary, my dear Watson.”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out!” chirps the new face in the mirror, and Logan shrieks.

The new face shrieks as well. Both of them scramble away from each other, pause, and stare.

The mysterious entity speaks first, and Logan realises it is a boy.

“I’m sorry,” says the boy, sounding worried. “Did I scare you?”

“No,” says Logan, too quickly. “I just didn’t know you were, um. Here. I’m sorry.”

The boy smiles, and Logan finally takes him in fully. He’s about half a head shorter than Logan. More chubby. Bubbling blue eyes. Brown hair. Round glasses. And splattered head to toe in pink paint.

As if remembering this fact himself, Mirror Boy turns back to the sink, inspecting the damage cheerfully.

“That’s okay, it wasn’t your fault!” he says, and Logan thinks that’s the end of that, but he keeps talking. “Of course, it wasn’t exactly my fault either, ’cause I was sure you knew I was there, but I’m sorry if I got it wrong and startled you, if that makes a difference, and I hope we can just move past this and it doesn’t, y’know, paint me in a bad light.”

At this, he stretches out a bright pink cardigan-clad arm, points to it unnecessarily with a bright pink finger, and beams at Logan like he just won an award.

“Uhh,” is all Logan can say. “Okay.”

“Get it? Like paint?”

“Yep,” says Logan, extremely confused.

“It’s called a pun!” says the boy, bouncing a bit. “My dad tells me them, and–”

But he doesn’t finish, because there’s a sudden clamour of footsteps from outside the bathroom, and Paint Boy, for some reason, responds by clapping a hand over his mouth firmly in panic, eyes wide, and pulling Logan closer to him, out of sight of the door.

Startled, Logan complies, and they wait without a word as the footsteps move towards their hideout. Amongst the racket, Logan hears a voice say, “Where’s the nerd gone?” and another, “I bet he’s busy crying,” followed by malicious laughter.

The boy still hasn’t dared to move, and Logan puts two and two together. He realises the boy is jittering, and his breathing is anxious and much too loud, so he politely taps his shoulder and mimes closing his mouth and breathing slowly through his nose. Paint Boy follows him as he demonstrates, and their chests quietly rise and fall in unison until the other kids outside are gone.

When it falls silent again, the boy slumps in relief, breathes out a “thanks,” to Logan, and steps back to the sink to continue washing up like absolutely nothing just transpired.

“So,” begins Logan.

“Yeah?” chirps the boy, tone back to normal.

“Do I want to know what just happened?”

The boy laughs, then says nothing, then says, “I just didn’t want them knowing where I am,” and removes his grey cardigan to wash it better. “That’s all.”

Logan doesn’t know how to respond. Instead, he says, “Why are you covered in paint?”

“Oh, the guys outside did that,” says Cardigan Boy, brightly. “They think it’s funny that I like pink.”

Logan puts two and two together again, and says, shocked, “That’s bullying.”

“Yep!” says the boy, rinsing his cardigan in the sink until the paint melts off in rivulets of pink water. “My mom says I should stick with friends so they don’t do that, but I don’t really know that many people here. I’m new.”

“So,” says Logan, carefully. “You don’t have any friends?”

The boy shakes his head, still smiling. He doesn’t look up.

Logan doesn’t quite know why, but the next words out of his mouth are, “Can you help me? I’ve lost something and I’d like some help looking for it.”

The boy looks up.

“You want my help?” he says, surprised.

“Yes,” says Logan uncomfortably.

“What are you looking for?”

“It’s a… Book.”

“A book?” says the boy eagerly as he squeezes his cardigan out and shakes it, splattering Logan with water. “Oops, sorry. Sure I’ll help you look!”

He pauses, as if remembering something, then steps over and extends his hand, beaming. “Oh, I’m Patton, by the way! Patton Watson.”

Logan stares.

“Watson?”

“Yep,” says Patton Watson – Watson! – with a bemused smile. “What’s your name?”

“L-Logan,” says Logan at last, pulling himself back to reality and taking Patton’s dripping hand firmly in a promise. “Logan Holmes. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Same here,” says Patton happily. “Lead the way, new friend!”

* * *

After about half an hour of fruitless searching around their school grounds, Logan is having trouble maintaining his composure, but he tries not to show it. Patton, his cardigan long since having dried in the afternoon heat, has now tied it around his shoulders by its sleeves like a superhero cape, and keeps getting distracted by shiny things, and will not stop making strange jokes that Logan barely understands.

Still, their time spent investigating is enjoyable. Logan fills Patton in on the lore of their namesakes, which Patton drinks in with wide-eyed interest; in turn, Patton points out pretty things that aren’t his Book, like funny-shaped red leaves and speckly pebbles, with the air of discovering hidden treasure. He seems happy bouncing alongside Logan in the sun, and at one point he picks up a fallen pink flower, forces Logan to sniff it and acknowledge that it smells very nice, and then carries it happily around with them, cradling it like a precious jewel.

Logan stops short with a heavy sigh as they finish their tour of the entire building and school field, allowing himself one kick at the ground before assuming his Sherlock Holmes pose and declaring, “Alas, my dear Watso—”

Patton giggles, then hastily bites down on it when Logan glares at him.

“—it seems our investigation has had no results. Perhaps we should simply accept that the Book is no longer on this pr- on this prem-i-ses,” he falters, wondering how that word is supposed to be said, “and consider that it may be… lost for good.”

Patton peers at his face as he finishes, staring at his shoes and trying to hold back tears. Then he says:

“Smile.”

Logan meets his gaze, surprised by the intensity he sees in it.

“What?”

“You know what I do when I wanna cry?” says Patton unexpectedly. “I start smiling. That way nobody ever knows when I wanna cry. And then I stop wanting to, too.”

Logan twitches, and rubs at his eyes before any tears can fall. “Really?”

Patton nods vigorously.

“This book means a lot to you, right? Well, we’re smart! And we checked and if it’s not here, then it must be somewhere else. So maybe… it fell somewhere and then somebody picked it up? We can ask people if they saw it! It’ll be like those books you talked about, doing in-ves-gations and catching the bad guys! This’ll be fun!”

He’s bobbing up and down by the end of his speech, and Logan can’t help but want to do the same, feeling unexpectedly kind of warm inside.

“Alright,” he says, giving Patton a smile that surfaces quite unannounced. “Good idea, Watson.”

“Elemental, my dear Lo-Lo,” giggles Patton, and completely ruins it.

* * *

As their first order of business after leaving the school, Patton sits down at the corner of a street, tucks his flower behind his ear, borrows Logan’s pencil, and draws a picture under his direction of what the Book looks like. Logan gives him credit for trying, but draws the line when Patton starts adding his own twists.

“No,” he says again, irritably. “Why are you drawing a butterfly on it!?”

“I’m drawing butterflies around it, silly,” says Patton, oblivious as he draws another butterfly right over the cover.

“Why?”

“Because butterflies are pretty,” responds Patton simply. “Duh.”

“But now it looks like they’re on the Book.”

“Well, why shouldn’t I draw butterflies on it if I wanna?” says Patton, who’s surprisingly stubborn for someone who looks so sunshine-sweet.

“My Book doesn’t have butterflies on it!”

“Well, maybe you should put some there!”

“That’s not th—”

Patton cuts him off. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear wh—?”

“Shh!” whispers Patton, and has the nerve to put his hand over Logan’s mouth. “Someone’s singing!”

Still reeling from being shut up quite so effectively, Logan meekly complies. The voice floats over to them from the next street; it’s a boy’s voice, and quite nice, even if the words being sung are unfamiliar to Logan:

“Shining, shimmering, sple-ndid –

Tell me, princess, now when did you last let your heart decide?”

Patton, however, beams as the singing devolves into voices too faint to make out, and careless laughter.

“That was pretty!” he says cheerily. “We should go say hi!”

And he grabs the paper and Logan’s hand and pulls him along without waiting for a response, his cardigan flapping behind him like a superhero cape as he runs.

They follow the sound together around the corner, which rings out alongside their clattering footsteps in the otherwise quiet suburb, and jog down the lane together until they spot the boy. He’s wearing a white T-shirt and is swinging his legs energetically from atop the picket fence across the street, still singing the song from before with his eyes closed and head swaying theatrically. When he spots them, his smile grows, and he stretches a hand out to them in a dramatic gesture.

“Greetings, fellow citizens!” he proclaims in a voice that can’t be real. “What brings you to our humble kingdom?”

“Shut up, weirdo!” Logan hears as they cross the street, Patton still clinging tightly to his hand and peering carefully left and right at the completely empty road. “That’s so embarrassing!”

“It so is not, Edgelord,” calls the boy, pouting in a general upward direction.

Patton looks at the sky, puzzled, but Logan does some quick deduction that he’s quietly proud of and nudges him to indicate the nearby tree behind the fence, where another boy is curled up in the fork of the trunk. He’s wearing a huge black hoodie despite the weather and his legs are pulled up to his chest, his face hidden partly by brown bangs and partly by his knees. He groans when he sees the two of them.

“Did you have to do that, Princey?”

“They’re guests in this kingdom, you sad sack!” exclaims the singing boy – Princey? – affronted. “You’ve gotta make ’em feel more welcome than that!”

He hops off the fence and pumps Patton’s hand energetically. “Hello there again! My name is Roman, and that is my dark and stormy friend up there—”

“We’re not friends,” grumbles Hoodie Boy, curling up even tighter until he looks like an angry ball of wool.

“Not yet,” says Roman pleasantly.

“Hi,” says Patton in his sunniest voice yet, waving up at the stormcloud in the tree. It eyes him suspiciously before wiggling a hand in return.

“Hello,” says Logan, deciding to keep it simple. “We’re wondering if you’ve seen something we’re looking for.”

Patton perks up and flourishes their poster at Roman, butterfly cover and all, with its grand caption of ‘LOST!’ adorning the top. Roman leans down and peers at it carefully, hums, then looks very thoughtful, and then – to Logan’s delight – gasps in answer.

“What?” demands Logan immediately. “Did you see it? Did someone—”

“I have no idea,” says Roman bluntly, with a click of fingers. “Sorry.”

“Then why…?” fumbles Logan, still reeling from the whiplash of disappointment.

“It’s called acting, Specs,” the clod says airily, and Logan hates him already. “Anyway, I haven’t seen your, uh, thing.”

“What is it?” mumbles Hoodie, sticking his head out to sneak a look at the paper but making no move to leave his perch.

“Come down and see for yourself, friend,” quips Roman, his attention immediately diverted. Hoodie groans in exasperation.

“Not coming down.”

“What if I come up to you?”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Hey.”

“What.”

“Climb to that branch up there.”

“Go away.”

Roman laughs again, mischievously.

“You won’t do it for me but you’ll do it for your friends?”

“Stop talking about them,” snaps the boy. “You’re not gonna change my mind.”

“But ­­I ­love you, remember?” says Roman theatrically, putting a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I’m not gonna be saved by you, Princey,” retorts Hoodie, pelting him with a leaf.

Roman catches it and blows a kiss back to Hoodie, who gives Logan a long-suffering look. Logan inclines his head in sympathy, and they allow a comfortable silence to fall between them, listening to Patton and Roman chatter, until eventually Hoodie speaks quietly.

“I think I know you. We have art together, right? I-In school, I mean.”

“Oh,” says Logan, a bit self-consciously. “Maybe.”

“It’s okay,” says the boy, looking more comfortable as Roman and Patton chat away animatedly, ignoring them. “I just know you ’cause everyone knows you. You’re the smart one. Nobody notices me much. I kinda like that.”

Logan can’t relate at all, but nods anyway to be polite. Truth be told, he’s rather disappointed in himself for not having noticed Hoodie before. He makes a note to try and notice more people in the future, as part of his detective training.

“Your… not-friend seems to be noticing you a lot,” he points out, indicating Roman.

Hoodie looks grumpy. “Yeah. I hate it. I wish he’d stop trying to be a hero.”

“A hero?”

“Yep,” grumbles Hoodie, turning towards Logan more fully and letting his legs dangle against the tree trunk. “He wants to rescue me from my friends. And he keeps on saying he loves me.”

Logan considers this. “Well, that doesn’t make any logical sense,” he muses, pushing his glasses up his nose pointedly. “Friends are good. That’s a fact.” He pauses. “Right?”

The boy heaves a long sigh before answering. “Princey doesn’t like my friends. They’re not really… I dunno. Nice?”

 “Then why do you like them?”

“I…” begins Hoodie, then trails off into a mumble. “It’s sorta different. Not like he thinks.”

He indicates Roman with a jerk of his head and fidgets.

“Well,” says Logan reasonably, “I guess what matters is that you’re happy. Right?”

“I guess,” echoes Hoodie, but he still looks uncomfortable. “Maybe.”

“Definitely,” says Logan, now surer of himself. “I don’t even have any friends, but it doesn’t bother me.”

“You don’t?” says Hoodie, wrinkling his nose a bit. “Then who’s that?”

Logan follows his gaze, to where Patton is telling Roman something about his pink flower, and smiling brightly as the drama queen overreacts to it. He notices Logan looking and beams proudly at him, still clutching their poster. Logan’s pencil has replaced the flower behind his ear.

Huh. Logan supposes he does have a friend now.

That reminds him.

“Excuse me, I just remembered,” he says. “I have to find out if anyone’s seen the thing I’m looking for. You wouldn’t have seen it, would you?”

“Depends,” says Hoodie easily. “I don’t even know what it is.”

“Oops,” says Logan, feeling silly for having forgotten. “Here.”

He extracts the paper from Patton’s hand to show the boy and Roman notices.

“How’dja lose your… thingy anyway?” he asks, waving a hand in casual dismissal of the thingy.

“It’s a Book,” Logan replies crossly. “And it fell out of my… school bag.”

Out of his secret pocket. Which is on the inside of the bag and always zipped shut.

Which, now that he thinks about it, doesn’t add up.

“You sure?” says Roman, and something in the way he says it makes Logan feel not very sure at all. “’Cause, y’know. People can be pretty mean. Especially to nerds like you.”

(Here he casts a dark look at Hoodie Boy, who looks stricken.)

“Mean?” echoes Logan, not quite paying attention.

“Um. Yeah,” comes a small voice. Not Roman’s. He turns.

Patton is fidgeting with his cardigan’s sleeve and curling into himself quietly.

“The… the boys outside the bathroom earlier,” he mumbles. “They, um. One of them’s in my class. Declan Carter. He… doesn’t like me, I think. I don’t know the other guys. But everyone thinks they’re pretty mean.”

Logan doesn’t answer.

“Hey, Nerd, you do know the guys I’m talking about, right?” adds Roman, looking concerned. “Or do those glasses make you completely blind?”

Logan doesn’t answer. He’s in his own head doing sums. Or maybe deductions.

“It fell out of my… school bag.” Out of his safe, secret inside pocket. Except it can’t have fallen out of the secret pocket, which Logan knows was zipped up.

(Two and two makes four.)

“Where’s the nerd gone?” asks the voice outside the bathroom door, looking for Patton. Except he can’t have been talking about Patton, who Logan knows isn’t a nerd.

(Four and four makes eight.)

“I bet he’s busy crying,” says the other voice, but “Nobody ever knows when I wanna cry,” says Patton, who Logan knows smiles through his tears.

(Eight and eight: sixteen.)

“I just know you ’cause everyone knows you. You’re the smart one,” says Hoodie Boy.

(Thirty-two.)

“People can be pretty mean. Especially to nerds like you,” says Roman.

(Sixty-four.)

Logan thinks of predators stalking the school hallway and Patton rinsing paint off his clothes and his secret pocket’s zipper left wide open. And it all, finally, adds up, and he feels like an ant.

“Logan?” asks Patton, worried. “Are you okay?”

When you eliminate the impossible, Sherlock Holmes whispers in his ear, whatever remains must be the truth.

Hoodie Boy is looking at him with something like fear on his face.

“You’re…” he whispers. “Oh. Oh, no.”

And he slides down from the tree and takes off into the house like lightning.

Logan watches him go numbly, dropping the poster. Patton snatches it before it flutters away.

“Logan…?” he tries again.

“What’s the matter, Sherlock?” asks Roman, and Logan swallows. Lifts his head. Forces back his tears and smiles.

“I just solved the case,” he says shakily, and runs away.

* * *

He hears footsteps half an hour later, when he’s all cried out and is now slumped against his own fence a few streets away, going over multiplication tables in his head. He looks up to see Patton running towards him, his school satchel bumping against his leg, looking relieved and clutching Logan’s pencil. His flower is gone.

“There you are, Logan!” he calls as he spots him, and slows down, huffing a little. “I was looking all over for you, after I talked to Roman’s friend, of course, ’cause he looked really upset, and Roman was helping me out since I don’t know this area that well yet, but then his brother Thomas came and said he had to go – I like him, he’s nice – and then I was on my own and I still couldn’t find you so I used the deduction thing and figured you’d have… is this your house? It’s really pretty.”

He pauses to take in Logan’s silence before pulling off his satchel and sitting down next to him. “Are you feeling better?”

“No,” says Logan miserably. “I feel so stupid.”

“That’s a bad word,” points out Patton, pouting. “Anyway, you’re not stupid. You’re super cool and smart, remember? You’re like Sherlock Holmes but nicer.”

That makes Logan smile a bit. “Thanks.”

“Hey,” says Patton after a few seconds. “Princ— Roman said it was probably the mean guys at school who stole your Book. Right?”

He nods.

“I… I didn’t ask before. But… why’s it so important to you?”

Logan takes a deep breath, huffs it out in a long sigh, and says, “My father gave it to me.”

“Okay.”

“Before he died.”

“O-Oh,” Patton says, blinking. “I’m sorry.”

“He gave me his Sherlock Holmes books, too,” says Logan, staring at the pavement. “They made me really happy. And when he died I wanted to do something… I don’t know. Something to show him how grateful I was.”

That’s what the Book is. It’s his tribute. In it, Logan’s kept a long journal of his investigations, his little observations and facts from every day and his thoughts and theories about everything he can think of. His deductions, his adventures, the little mysteries like who lives in the house at the end of the lane. His personal entries, where he talks about Sherlock Holmes, and how it would be wonderful to not have messy feelings all the time and always be calm and never cry. And his letters to his father, which he’ll never let anyone read, because only his father ever understood how he was feeling and now that he’s gone, the idea that Logan can go to anyone else feels like betrayal.

So he writes. And writes. And wonders if his father can see what he’s writing.

Patton listens as he spills, and when he’s done offers him a hug, which Logan accepts.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Everything is going to be okay. We’ll get your Book back.”

“I hope so,” murmurs Logan, and thinks about tomorrow with dread.

* * *

Tomorrow arrives. Logan goes to school with rocks in his chest, and waits.

Patton finds him in between lessons, sneaking from his classroom to Logan’s and slipping him little gifts: a blue friendship bracelet, a papery orange leaf, a reassuring smile. None of these are his Book, but Logan appreciates them all the same.

When the bell signals recess, Logan drags himself out of the empty classroom, and that’s when he hears the commotion in the playground. Patton, who’d been waiting for him, gives him a worried look.

“Should we go and…?” he asks. Logan nods.

As they join the crowd, Patton squeezes Logan’s hand very hard as they spot the source of attention: the slide has been seized by three tall boys who have positioned themselves on the ladder, blocking it. One, in a painfully orange hoodie, is scowling at everyone; his friend, with a bright yellow bag, is smiling down at someone on the ground next to them, and Patton grips Logan’s sleeve.

“Oh, no,” he whispers. “That’s Declan. The one next to him is Alexander, and…”

The last of the three, perched at the very top of the slide and wearing a jade-green shirt and a twisted smile, needs no introduction for Logan. It’s Jason. Jason the mean one who laughed at him when he cried in class, and who’s now eyeing the boy on the ground with boredom as he lounges in his seat of power.

With a start, Logan realises the boy on the ground is Hoodie.

Their eyes meet. Something painful crosses Hoodie’s expression.

Then Logan hears Jason speak.

“Hey, look, he’s here!” he says loudly to the other three. “Sherlock Holmes. You’re late.”

Logan steps forward, unsteadily, and the crowd seems to melt away.

“You have something of mine,” he says, as calmly as he can. “I’d like it back.”

“Something of yours?” says Yellow – Declan – in mock surprise. “We have no idea what – oh, wait, does this belong to you, nerd?”

And he opens his bag and pulls out a book – Logan’s Book – and hands it up to Jason with a flourish, and Logan sees red.

“Give it back to me,” he snaps. “Now.”

“Is it private? Oh, dear,” hums Jason, thumbing through the pages tauntingly. “Hey, everybody, what do you think is inside?”

He opens the Book. Logan feels very cold.

“I’m warning you,” he says, voice cracking, and that’s as far as he gets before a voice pipes up behind him.

“Leave him alone!”

It’s Patton.

(Of course.)

“You guys are mean,” he yells, voice trembling, pushing to the front of the crowd. “You’re not funny, and you’re not cool, and you’re not nice people and you need to stop.”

Orange slides off the ladder and advances menacingly.

“What did you say to me?” he says, too calmly.

“I-I said…” falters Patton.

“He said you need to stop.”

Orange whirls around.

Hoodie’s jaw is tightly clenched. He’s shaking.

Jason’s glare is terrifying. “What the heck is wrong with you, Anxiety?”

“And he’s r-right,” blurts Hoodie, with a petrified glance at Patton. “You… you’re awful. G-Give the Book back. No one likes this.”

There’s silence for a deadly few seconds. Then Jason laughs, coldly.

“I always knew you were too stupid to hang with us, you brat.”

“Watch it,” says Logan darkly, and suddenly it’s three against three.

“You’re on their side now?” growls Orange, whom Logan has privately named Anger Issues. “I knew you couldn’t be trusted! Wimp! Loser!”

Hoodie takes one step back. Two. And turns and runs out of sight.

“HA!” spits Anger. “That’s right, you’d better—”

The next few moments are a blur.

Hoodie reappears at the top of the slide, behind Jason.

Snatches the Book.

Slides back down rapidly amidst screams. Ducks under the slide as Jason and Declan leap off.

Takes a running leap at the empty ladder. Scales it in a split-second.

Yells:

“Catch!”

And throws the Book.

Jason yells something. Logan stares at his Book as it soars overhead, beyond the crowd, impossible to catch.

Straight into a beaming Roman’s waiting arms.

Patton runs to the slide to help Hoodie down, but Logan is shoving through the crowd to get to Roman, who tosses him the Book and shouts, “Get your puffball friend!”

Logan turns and sees Patton struggling through the crowd with Hoodie in tow, and he sees Roman pull Hoodie free as he grabs Patton’s hand, and he sees something tall and green being blocked by a cheering crowd of classmates, and then all four of them run like the wind.

* * *

They end up hiding in the bathroom, because apparently that is where hiding happens.

“They’re gonna kill us,” whispers Hoodie, his whole body jittering.

“…Can’t,” puffs Logan. “They’re… in trouble. Already.”

“Big trouble,” whispers Patton. “They can’t bother us again. Thank you so much, you guys.”

Roman grins. “I barely did anything, Flower Power. Guess who did?”

They all look at Hoodie, who fidgets.

“I don’t know what to tell you guys,” he mumbles. “I only stuck with them for protection, y’know.”

“Well, you clearly don’t need protection—” says Logan, and then pauses.

“Oh. Right,” says Hoodie awkwardly. “My name’s… Virgil.”

Patton beams and hugs him.

“Thanks, Virgil! You were amazing!”

Everything is going to be okay, Logan thinks. People have his back.

Virgil smiles a little, then says shakily, “I can’t believe I did that.”

“I agree,” says Logan, cradling his Book. “That was genius.”

“I can believe it,” says Patton, smiling at Virgil, who smiles shyly back and pulls something pink out of his pocket. Patton’s flower.

“Yeah, well,” he says.

Roman laughs, sudden and bright. “We were awesome. And you!”

Virgil blushes. “You better stop annoying me now.”

“I’ve only just begun, my dear!” trills Roman joyfully.

“You’re so lucky I changed my mind.”

“You’re so lucky I love you,” returns Roman, and then he and Patton burst out laughing, and Virgil starts chuckling too.

Logan looks at his Book. He looks at the flower. He looks at his three new friends, giggling breathlessly at each other like they all share a ridiculous secret.

Sherlock missed out on this, he thinks, and does the same.

* * * * *

@just-fic-me-up

[lesbianhubris]

Do you watch parks and rec? Because I feel like if Remus was a muggle he would be Ben Wyatt

Whoo Boy! 

Anon I have no idea why you chose to bless me with this ask, but you have managed to find my weakness. I’ve now spent 5 hours re-watching Parks & Rec episodes and re-reading more HCs for the Marauders than I care to admit.

Without much further ado, here is The Marauders as Parks and Rec Characters:

(I imagine many people are going to disagree with me on this mostly due to the fact that I’ve based this on personality traits rather than ships but  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

Remus Lupin is Ben Wyatt (yes anon I think you’ve hit the nail on the head here, and I WILL explain why)

James Potter is Leslie Knope (no I do not ship wolfbucks. Bear w/ me here)

Sirius Black is Andy Dwyer  (I ALMOST went with Donna Meagle. This one was damn close and tbh I’m still not sure I chose correctly)

Peter Pettigrew is Jerry Gergich (I seriously considered Mark Brendanawitz b/c we all hate him, but Mark was just too smooth y’know? Peter is no ladies man. Also we’re talking Marauders at school only, so Peter isn’t a dirty rat betrayer yet, which is important because Jerry has too big of a heart to do what Peter did)

Lily Evans is Ann Perkins

Severus Snape is Jeremy Jamm

Regulus Black is Tom Haverford  

Explanation Below the Cut b/c it got rlly long. I’m not sorry

Season 2/early Season 3 Ben is Year One Remus:

He’s not used to having friends/is scared of what will happen if he makes friends so he kind of isolates himself 

(look at my precious bby so convinced people couldn’t possibly like him *creys*)

Despite his protestations, James “everyone nice must be my friend” Potter (AKA Leslie Knope) gets Remus to join the other Gryffindor First Year Boys (yet unnamed) in their shenanigans

and Remus is super hesitant at first because what if they find out his secret? That he bankrupted his town as a child mayor is a werewolf!

but Leslie Knope James Potter is not a quitter and his magnetic energy draws Remus in and it’s amazing and everything either had ever dreamed of in a friendship and now they have their own secret handshake (the nerds) 

Now I know what you’re thinking here: “But Sarah! You must be confused! It is James and Sirius who have this amazing friendship bond with secret nerdy handshakes, not James and Remus!”

well you see oh wonderful disembodied voice, the thing is… Sirius? grew up a pampered and snobby Heir to the House of Black. That kind of taught-entitlement is not-so-easily unlearned. 

I HC that, for most of First Year, Sirius Orion Black was included in things by default because ~it’s rude to exclude~ and also because “he clearly doesn’t know better we just have to teach him how to not be such a wanker okay Remus give him a break” 

 idk if people 100% remember this, but season one Andy year one Sirius was a selfish asshole 

you see what I mean? this is exactly the kind of shit Sirius would have pulled back when he still thought his family was hot shit for being rich, inbred, and racist.

Andy Sirius, in my opinion, shows some of the most impressive character development on Parks and Rec amongst the Marauders. He does a complete 180 from selfish and conceited to loving and giving and it’s all because he’s finally put in a situation where The Parks Department (esp. April) The Marauders (esp. Remus) hold him accountable for his actions. 

So that’s why Sirius is Andy. 

Anyway back to Remus:

 Now the four boys are learning more about each other and they knew Remus liked to study okay but “Bloody Hell Remus you are actually the nerdiest nerd to ever nerd” 

“Oh my god Remus shut up and help me with my transfiguration homework”

Oh also? He would never disrespect authority to its face,, so when Professor Slughorn tells him his Forgetfulness Potion is “weak, my boy! Why it wouldn’t even make a goldfish forget its breakfast” Remus waits for Slughorn to turn around before 

And the other marauders see him do this and honestly? it cements their friendship. so now Remus is ensconced in this group of boys who care about him so he tells them his deepest darkest secret about ice town being a werewolf and? They accept him? Just like that? 

It’s the happiest day in Remus John Lupin’s entire eleven years of existence 

And now that they’re all doing things together and they decide to start pranking which of course looks a little something like

And at first Remus just sort of watches the pranks and then he helps plan them but pretty soon he’s right there with the other marauders wreaking havoc and bringing general mayhem to the grounds of Hogwarts

For the first time in his life Remus Lupin is considered one of the Cool Kids™

and teachers are like?? What happened to the studious quiet kid from September? Remus?! Why have you become this way?

And Remus has to get out of this conversation RIGHT NOW because the pile of books Flitwick uses as a stool is going to explode into a shower feathers in approximately 5 seconds so he’s all

Don’t let these new facets of his personality fool you though. Remus is still first and foremost a major NERD

Someone behind him in Muggle Studies: “The American Muggle Ministry faked a moon landing because American muggles were obsessed with Star Trek, and that’s the only effect Telly has had on muggle pop culture”

Now fast forward to fourth year

 James catches Human Disaster™ Remus checking Sirius out

Then finally in sixth year Sirius and Remus accidentally let slip their feelings for one another and idk who is more surprise excited tbh

But Peter knows™ that what this really means is having to listen to his mates be unable to keep their hands off of each other at night because apparently sILENCING CHARMS ARE A FORGOTTEN ART PADFOOT

Which reminds me! Jerry Gergich Peter Pettigrew: Less endearing Human Disaster™

So in first year Pete is just happy to get included at all

but then his ideas in prank discussions kind of get shot down…a lot

he becomes the Marauders’ inside joke 

And he’s used for pranking practice…

…and sometimes they just completely forget to include him in things

and like the other marauders aren’t doing it on purpose but they’re a bunch of preteen/teenage kids and they’re kind of self absorbed and wrapped up in their own problems so eventually Pete kind of gets the message so when James says

Pete just kind of…

am I excusing Peter’s betrayal of his friends? Hell fucking no! 

But I am saying that the other marauders planted a seed of resentment in him and Voldemort took that seed and fertilized it like crazy and all that combined with his cloying nature and terrified disposition makes him a really good disposable henchman for Lord Moldy

Now, I mentioned that the other marauders were kind of wrapped up in their own things. 

Remus was terrified he was going to be found out as a werewolf

and then obsessed with Sirius a lil bit

Sirius was in an abusive environment at home and had to escape it

and then obsessed with Remus a lil bit

James was just. hella obsessed. with Lily.

every time he sees her there is a new compliment

every.

time.

The first time he sees her:

When someone asks him about her in second year:

shouted at her at breakfast in the dining hall in third year:

After she gets the right answer in class their fourth year:

When she gives him an idea for a prank in fifth year:

When she actually helps him with a prank in sixth year:

When she says she might date him but she’s worried she’s compromising her ideals by doing so: 

When she says she doesn’t think he really loves her, just the concept of her

and finally, near the end of their seventh year, war looming just outside the grounds of Hogwarts:

Ann Perkins Lily Evans is one of the most logical, realistic, and practical characters on the show in Gryffindor the Marauders’ year. She’s also highly intelligent and hilarious in the most awkward way possible

Severus Snape is Jeremy Jamm because both specimens physically repulse me and really that’s all I have to say on that front

I will not include gifs due to the fact that looking up images of Jamm makes me feel sick

Regulus Black is Tom Haverford because he starts off willing to sacrifice love and happiness for material wealth 

…But he learns how to be a good person in the end. 

(Replace speech with letter to Voldemort from RAB in the locket.) 

I don’t really have solid gif proof for these, but if you’ve made it this far you might as well see my final thoughts:

Marlene McKinnon is Jean-Ralphio Sapperstein

Dorcas Meadows is April Ludgate

Mary MacDonald is Chris Traeger

Lucius Malfoy is Bobby Newport

Belatrix Black Lestrange is Jessica Wicks

Narcissa Black Malfoy is Joan Calamezzo

If you actually made it this far I’m so sorry. Blame the anon who put this idea in my inbox.

[meggonagall]

Saving Severus Snape - Chapter 10

17th September 1976 The following week Hermione remained true to her word - Operation Stalk Severus was in full effect. Hermione had taken to keeping the Invisibility Cloak with her at all times; it was stuffed inside her beaded bag, which she carried in the pocket of her robes daily. After her classes she would excuse herself, saying she had to use the loo or by making up some other random excuse, such as needing to speak with a Professor or stating she had forgotten something in the dormitory. Once she separated herself from her friends, she would use the cloak and follow Severus. She tried to learn his schedule, which routes he took to his classes and where he went during his down time. One thing that she had noticed was that Severus was not as much of a loner as he originally appeared. It seemed that he had at least two acquaintances whom he spoke to on somewhat friendly terms. It sickened her a bit when she realized the two young men were future Death Eaters – Avery and Macnair. However, there was something about the hint of disgust in Severus’ eyes when he was near them that satisfied Hermione. It seemed that he had not really cared for them at all, and she assumed that their friendship, if you could have called it that, was more out of convenience than anything else.   She learned after a few days that Severus Snape was very much a creature of habit. His schedule barely changed from one day to the next, which made her life a lot easier. He ate breakfast in the Great Hall, went to his classes – any free periods were spent in the library, had lunch, returned to his classes, disappeared to the Slytherin dungeon, reappeared for dinner and then ended his evenings in the library once more. 

Hermione had not attempted to speak with him at all during the week. She had come to that decision for two reasons. One: she thought it would be better to study him a bit beforehand. Learn what he did during the day and possibly what his interests were, so she could come up with something substantial to speak with him about. Two: she was afraid that if she continued to try to force him into a friendship, which he seemed to not want, she would risk pushing him away for good. She had time, quite literally, and figured she ought to use it wisely. During their Potions classes, Hermione would enter, nod a quick hello – that he surprisingly returned later in the week, and would spend the rest of the time quietly working on her assignments. A few times she thought she caught him looking at her, or what she was doing, but she had not acknowledged it. Only once did he speak to her. Hermione had not been paying attention as well as she normally would have in her own time - she was too preoccupied with her thoughts, and almost missed a step while working on her potion. She nearly added the armadillo bile before the scarab beetle in her Wit-Sharpening Potion before Severus stopped her. “Scarab beetle,” he hissed as her hand nearly tipped the vial into her cauldron. She jumped and let out a small squeak of surprise before thanking him and continuing on with her coursework. Afterwards, Severus went on acting as if Hermione had not existed. The more she watched him, the more she noticed little things that made her feel confused and conflicted. For one thing, she found herself admiring the way he was so dedicated to his school work. She started to see that he was quite a brilliant young man; a person who she honestly could have seen herself wanting to be friends with. He was someone she imagined she could have had meaningful and intense discussions and debates with. Someone who could have stimulated her intellectually. He was kind of funny, too. In a dry, sarcastic sort of way. There were a few instances in which she heard him mutter something about one of their classmates; she’d have a hard time keeping herself from giggling at his remarks. A few times he said some things that she might had thought, but never would have voiced out loud. Of course when you’re a bit more advanced than some of your peers, you were bound to become frustrated with them. Severus just didn’t seem as capable of keeping his opinions to himself as Hermione had been. There was one day, during Ancient Ruins, a thought crossed her mind which completely threw her for a loop. She actually found him slightly attractive. Not that she was attracted to him, per say, but she couldn’t say that he was ugly. There was something about his dark eyes and the dark curtains of hair which contrasted with his pale skin that she found sort of beautiful. Even his nose seemed more distinguished than obtrusive. And, on the rare occasions that she actually saw them, his teeth seemed quite a bit straighter and whiter than they had become in his adult years. She tried very hard after that day to shake any of those thoughts from her mind. She had a… boyfriend? Actually, she wasn’t exactly sure what she and Ron were, but she did not feel right looking so closely at another boy. Especially considering who that boy was. *** 8th October 1976 For the next few weeks it went on relatively the same way. She attended her classes, spent her free time either following Severus or becoming much closer to Amelia and Remus than she would have preferred. She worried more and more that they would recognize her in future. Then, much to her horror, after a conversation in the library Friday evening, she feared that Remus might have remembered her. The way their conversation ended was eerily reminiscent of a similar one she had with Remus and Sirius during her summer at Grimmauld Place, before her fifth year. Somehow, Hermione, Amelia and Remus had gotten on the subject of House Elves and Hermione, who was unable to contain herself, went on a long winded rant of how they deserve to be treated better. How they should receive pay, sick days and holidays, just as anyone else would. Amelia somewhat agreed with her, yet Hermione suspected from her tone that she was just placating her, but that didn’t bother Hermione. She received the same response from Harry. She always knew that Harry had not taken her seriously, but she appreciated the fact that he did not outright make fun of her about it, as Ron did. Amelia, it seemed, was being just as polite. Remus however did not hold back his laughter. Not only that, but what he said to her nearly caused her to fall out of her seat, because it was the same exact response that he had given her in the future. “Hermione,” Remus chuckled. “I do agree that House Elves get a raw deal, but have you ever met one before?” “Of course, Remus!” She responded indignantly. “They –“ Remus cut her off. “Then you would know that they’re perfectly content making the families they serve happy. It’s what they were born to do, Hermione. It’s what gives them purpose.” “Yes but-“ He held up his hand. “I can see that we’re not going to agree on this issue,” he smiled. “I think it would be best if we dropped it?” Hermione’s heart stopped for a moment. ooo Hermione could not sleep and found herself in the basement kitchen of Grimmauld Place with Remus and Sirius, who all sat drinking some tea. Although, from the smell of it, Hermione suspected Sirius’ cup held a much stronger drink. Kreacher had entered the kitchen mumbling hurtful words about her under his breath, causing Sirius to throw a soup ladle at the old elf and order him out of the kitchen. Of course his actions horrified Hermione, who apparently had a difficult time keeping the angry expression from her face. “What?” Sirius snapped after looking at her. Hermione jolted a bit in her seat, it was the first time Sirius had ever used that tone of voice with her, and it took her off guard. Still, she had not felt right watching an elf being abused right in front of her. Kreacher hadn’t known any better, she understood that, therefore she did not take his words or actions to heart. “That was rather harsh, Sirius,” she scolded. Sirius snorted loudly. “Harsh? You’re taking the piss, right?” An argument then began between the two of them and started to become quite heated. Hermione shouted about how they should have freedom, or pay; more rights in general. Remus intervened. “They’re perfectly content making the families they serve happy. It’s what they were born to do, Hermione. It’s what gives them purpose,” he said in a tired voice. Hermione looked affronted. “But surely you could see my reasoning behind-“ Remus raised his hand to stop her. “I can see that we’re not going to agree on this issue. It would probably be for the best if we dropped it.” At the time, Hermione had not understood the smirk on Remus’ face. Also, the knowing look he shared with Sirius immediately after confused her at the time. But then she wondered. Had he remembered her? ooo Then suddenly, more things started to make sense to her. Like a brief conversation she had once with Sirius during Christmas break her fifth year. ooo Hermione was passing by the drawing room and noticed Sirius sitting in a chair, all alone and holding onto a bottle like it was his long lost lover. She felt horrible that he was spending his holiday cooped up by himself in a place that caused him so much pain. Instead of just walking by, she decided to enter the room and sat quietly in a chair across from him. “Happy Christmas, Sirius,” she said quietly. Sirius picked his head up in a jerky motion, his bloodshot eyes wide and full of surprise. After looking as if he was trying to focus on the person who had just spoken to him, a smile slowly spread across his lips, though it did not meet his sad eyes. “Same to you, Hermione,” he responded, and lifted his bottle in a mock toast before taking a deep drink of the amber liquid. Hermione smiled sadly as he wiped his mouth with the back of his dirty sleeve. “S’hard to believe you lot are the same three scrawny brats I met nearly two years ago,” he joked. “Breaking any hearts yet?” Hermione never understood why some adults would ask that of teenagers. Like the only thing that mattered about their adolescence was if they dated or not. She laughed out loud. “Hardly.” Sirius shook his head. “Don’t worry, Hermione. You will soon enough, trust me. I’m sure a bloke will come along who pesters you almost daily. Don’t be too hard on him though.” His eyes slowly began to close. Hermione was increasingly becoming more confused, but just chalked it up to Sirius being intoxicated. “It’s not like he had any idea who you were. If he did he wouldn’t have…” he trailed off before passing out.   ooo Hermione called it an early night after realizing she may not have remained as unmemorable as she had hoped. She claimed she had a stomach ache, which technically wasn’t a lie. The whole ordeal made her feel exceptionally queasy. *** 9th October 1976 The evening of Hermione’s final detention, she entered the Potions classroom ready for another uncomfortable evening of Slughorn doting on both her and Severus while they continued to clean, not speaking to each other, only to their professor. She hadn’t been expecting anything from Severus, which was why it was an absolute shock to her when he hadn’t rushed out of the room after Slughorn dismissed them, as he had done after each of their previous detentions. Both of them wished their professor a goodnight and turned to leave the room; Hermione trailed a bit behind Severus. She walked behind him for a few steps when suddenly, he stopped. “May I speak with you for a moment?” he asked her with his back still turned. Hermione’s heart raced and, for some reason, her stomach felt like it was filled with fluttering butterflies. “Of course!” she responded a bit too eagerly. Severus turned around slowly, but did not make eye contact with her. He looked down at the ground, pushing a strand of his hair behind his ear. “I’ve noticed during Potions that you do not seem as stupid as the rest of our classmates.” Hermione assumed that was intended to be a compliment. The corner of her mouth turned up a little in spite of herself. “Er… thanks?” Once again, he started to tug on the cuff of his sleeve. “There are still some areas you could improve on, however,” he continued, condescendingly.   She flinched. It was almost like she was his student once more, listening to him belittle her and her hard work. Her eyes narrowed as she placed her hands on her hips. Severus did not seem to notice. “Potions requires instinct and imagination. You don’t always have to rely so heavily on what is shown to us in textbooks.” Why was he telling her that? He had not seemed to her as the type of person who would offer advice to fellow students. Still, she didn’t speak. She waited to see if he would continue. Severus reached up and rubbed the back of his neck; he still had not looked at her. “If – if, erm…” He stopped and shook his head. Where was he going with all of this? She wondered. “If what, Severus?” she asked. She noticed him jolt slightly again when she said his name and once more wondered what that was all about. Finally he looked up and locked eyes with her. She saw his Adam’s apple move up and down, like he was swallowing. He seemed nervous. “I – I could help you if you want,” he offered quietly and again fixed his eyes on the floor. Hermione noticed a hint of red tint his pale cheeks. She almost laughed. All of the plotting and sneaking around she had done and it hadn’t even mattered. She shouldn’t have been surprised that the way to get him to notice, or even possibly respect her would be for her to do well in class. Not only that, but what also must had helped her was how she hadn’t been raising her hand or answering every question that was asked in her classes either. She was determined, while she was there, not to come off like a know-it-all, only because she figured it would have helped her blend in with everyone better. He must had taken her silence as the beginning of a rejection. “I only offer, because it would be a shame for someone with even the most minimal amount of talent let it go to waste. Not many people appreciate Potions,” he added with a snide tone Hermione recognized quite well. She rolled her eyes and was thankful he wasn’t looking when she did. “I would like that,” she finally answered and thought she saw the hint of a smile form on his lips. He nodded once and looked at her with a furrowed brow. “Right. Meet me in the library tomorrow evening. Eight o’clock.” “I’ll be th-“ “Don’t be late,” he cut her off. Without waiting for an answer, he quickly turned around and half-ran away from her. Hermione shook her head softly. Severus was truly a different sort of person. “…there,” Hermione finished as she watched him leave. For some reason, she had a difficult time keeping a smile off of her face the entire walk to Ravenclaw tower, which she still must have been wearing when she entered the common room. “Well you look awfully cheerful for someone who just had detention,” Amelia said with a suspicious glimmer in her eyes. Hermione shrugged. “It was the last one.” she responded as if that clarified everything. She began to head towards the dorms saying a quick goodnight. “Where do you think you’re going Miss Devereux?” Amelia demanded looking over the top of the book she was reading. “If you think for one moment I’m buying the whole, ‘It was the last one’ excuse, you’re sorely mistaken.” Hermione stuck her tongue out at Amelia then continued her walk towards the stairs. Amelia quickly followed after. “Really, Amelia, it’s nothing. I’m just glad to be done with it, that’s all,” she tried to convince her. As she trekked up the stairs a little more quickly than she began, Amelia jogged to keep up with her.   “You’re clearly lying, Hermione. I haven’t seen you smile like that since you’ve arrived here. Now what’s going on?” she asked, slightly panting.   Hermione shook her head as a snort escaped her. As they walked into the empty dorm Amelia would not let up.   Truthfully Hermione didn’t even know where to begin. Why was she smiling like a fool? Why was she feeling nervous, yet excited about the prospect of spending the evening with Severus? Was it simply because she was finally making some progress towards her goal in the past? Or was it something else?   She sat down on her bed and tucked her legs beneath her; Amelia watched her face carefully.   “Well?” Amelia tried once more.   Hermione drew in a deep breath. “Severus asked me to study with him tomorrow night,” she admitted quietly. A blush slowly crept up her face as she watched Amelia’s mouth pop open. “I – er – I agreed to go.”   The look on Amelia’s face was very similar to the look someone who had just been clubbed over the head would be wearing. She looked dumbfounded.   “He – he asked you out?” Amelia whispered.   Hermione shook her head. “No, it’s not a date or anything,” she clarified quickly. “He just mentioned that he’s noticed my work in potions class and thinks that he could help me become better.” She had a hard time not sounding bitter at the end of that sentence.   Tucking a lock hair behind her ear, Hermione squirmed uncomfortably under Amelia’s astonished stare. To Hermione, it seemed like it was the first time Amelia had ever heard of anyone asking another student to study with them, she looked so shocked.   She couldn’t take the awkward silence any longer. “What?” Hermione snapped.   Amelia seemed to realize she was behaving a bit rudely. She shook her head and sat up straighter while forcing a smile on her face.   “No, nothing!” she said quickly. “It’s just – just that…” she bit her lip. “I’ve never seen him with a girl. Well besides Lily Evans.”   Lily and Severus had been childhood friends, up until the end of their fifth year; Harry had told both her and Ron that the morning after the battle at Hogwarts. Harry hadn’t gone into details as to why Severus and Lily stopped speaking. All he told them was that Severus had done something Lily couldn’t bring herself to forgive him for. Hermione was exceptionally curious as to what that was and wondered if Amelia had known what happened.   “Lily Evans and Severus are friends?” Hermione asked, as if she were ignorant.   “Were friends,” Amelia clarified. “Up until the end of last term. Right after we finished with our O.W.L.s.”   Hermione didn’t have to fake her curiosity. “What happened?” she asked eagerly and leaned forward.   Amelia scooted to the edge of her bed and crossed her legs underneath her.   “I wasn’t there,” she began. “But Alice was. She told us what happened afterwards. Actually,” she snorted, “the whole school knew afterwards.”   Hermione’s heart was pounding. What had Severus done that was so bad the whole school knew about it within minutes? “Apparently Severus was sitting under a tree near the Black Lake. Potter, Black, Remus and Pettigrew were out there as well."   Hermione felt her stomach drop. She had a feeling she knew where this story was headed.   She listened in horror as Amelia described the scene by the lake that summer afternoon. She felt sick to her stomach as she heard what James and Sirius had done to Severus, who had done nothing to them. It was amazing to her how similar James and Harry looked, yet how different they both were in personality. Who knew? Maybe James changed. It already seemed like he had grown up quite a bit since last year, from what Amelia was telling her, but still. Harry had never hexed anyone just because he and Ron were bored. That behavior was more of something she would had expected from Draco Malfoy, never Harry. Was Professor Snape right all of those time he had told Harry that James Potter was arrogant and a bully?   However, whatever sympathy she was feeling towards Severus disappeared the moment Amelia told her what he had called Lily in the heat of the moment.   “He called her a what?” Hermione gasped threw her fingers which were covering her mouth. “No, he couldn’t have,” she whispered, more to herself than to Amelia.   Amelia nodded. “He did,” she answered matter-of-factly.   Hermione hung her head. How could have done such a thing? Lily was his best friend. She was a girl he cared for. Why would he call her that?   Her heart broke for Lily, as Hermione tried to imagine how she would have felt if Ron or Harry let that word slip from their mouths. She would had been crushed. Heartbroken. Horrified. Livid. Devastated. No wonder Harry had not told her or Ron what caused the end of their friendship. She was disgusted with him and was questioning if she really wanted to see him the following evening. Was he worth it? Was being there worth it?   “He tried to apologize immediately after, but Lily wouldn’t have any part of it. According to Mary, he threatened to sleep outside of the Gryffindor common room if Lily didn’t come down to hear him out,” Amelia continued while watching Hermione’s reaction carefully.   Hermione couldn’t seem to speak. She didn’t know what to say, so instead she nodded slowly. What if Ron or Harry had let that slip and tried to apologize? How would she have handled that? Obviously Lily did not accept Severus’ apology, as she clearly still was not on speaking terms with him. But would Hermione had been able to shut Ron or Harry out of her life for a mistake, albeit a horrible one, but a mistake nevertheless.   When you love someone, regardless if it’s a significant other, friend, or family member, you have to be able and willing to forgive them. Even if, or especially when, they mess up badly. Yes, what Severus did was horrible, but was it unforgiveable? She tried to look at the whole situation objectively. He had just been suspended in midair, robes falling down and his pants displayed for the entire school to see. James and Sirius had physically and emotionally abused him in front of an audience for their own entertainment. Severus was a proud young man and his ego had to have been severely damaged in that moment. Then Lily came along to fight his battle for him; something which Hermione was sure would not have sat well with him.  It didn’t excuse what he had done, but Hermione understood why it happened. If she were in Lily’s position, she thought that she most likely would have come to forgive him. She would have been furious with him, shouted at him and probably given him the silent treatment for a few days, but if he was her friend, she would have found it in her heart to let him back in it.   “And she never forgave him?” Hermione asked after minutes of silence.   Amelia looked taken aback. “Well of course not!” she said as if it was obvious. “Would you have?” “Yes,” Hermione answered without hesitation. Amelia looked like she was having a hard time believing her. “Sometimes the people we love are the ones who have the ability to hurt us the most. That doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t forgive them when they do. Everyone says or does things they don’t mean at times. It’s part of being human. I’m sure he didn’t mean what he said, and it sounds as if he regretted it the moment the word left his lips. I’m not excusing what he did, or saying it was right, but I don’t think it’s fair of Lily to hold it against him forever. Especially if they were as close as they were.”   Amelia shrugged gently. “I suppose you’re right, but still. It was a shit thing for him to do.”   “I’m not saying it wasn’t,” Hermione agreed.   “Just be careful around him Hermione,” Amelia said sincerely. Hermione was taken off guard by the sudden turn in their conversation. “Oh!” Her eyes opened wide. “Right. I – I will,” she promised.   Amelia did not look anywhere near comforted by Hermione’s half-hearted response. 

[inspiringwhilerespiring]

Bc I like these

Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? Spotifizzle

is your room messy or clean? In between. I always think it could be cleaner

what color are your eyes? Green but really a mixture of sorts

do you like your name? why? I used to not. I guess idk how I feel. I do like the unique spelling I suppose. Thanks mom.

what is your relationship status? A joke

describe your personality in 3 words or less: way too caring

what color hair do you have? Dirty blonde I suppose

where do you shop? Everywhere and anywhere

how would you describe your style? In my head it’s like boho grunge hippy eccentric lol IRL it’s t shirts all day

favorite social media account? Not sure. Either this bc it’s raw me or instagram is cool

what size bed do you have? Queen

any siblings? Tres

if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why? Good question. I’m up for whatever.

favorite snapchat filter? Black and white

favorite makeup brand(s) idgaf

how many times a week do you shower? Like every day

favorite tv show? Oooh game of thrones fasho

shoe size? 9

how tall are you? Five sixish

sandals or sneakers? Depends. I like sandals lately

do you go to the gym? Been trying

describe your dream date. Get high, go eat some good food, listen to live music or any music honestly, got for a walk, then come back home and watch a movie or sumn

what color socks are you wearing? None can’t Wear that shit to bed😖

how many pillows do you sleep with? Gazillion. For real.

do you have a job? what do you do? Bartender and server.

how many friends do you have? Lol damn idk

whats the worst thing you have ever done? Rather not say

whats your favorite candle scent? Anything fall related. Coconut is brilliant too.

3 favorite boy names.

3 favorite girl names.

favorite actor? Oooh so many. Denzel, Tom Hanks, Morgan freeman, will smith, I can go on and on

favorite actress? Hmmm. Not sure at the moment. Julia Roberts is up there. So is Sandra

who is your celebrity crush? Tom hardy or Jason momoa

favorite movie? Toooo many sawwy. Shawshank redemption comes to mind first.

do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? Trying to get better at this. Not sure if it’s my favorite but Kite Runner stands out to me.

money or brains? Brains all day

do you have a nickname? what is it? Haylz, work fam calls me Pollo lol

how many times have you been to the hospital? A few

top 10 favorite songs. Stop! I can’t so so hard.

do you take any medications daily? Yuppers

what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc) norm

what is your biggest fear? Memory loss

how many kids do you want? It fluctuates

whats your go to hair style? Bun duh

what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) lol an annoying ass one lately

who is your role model? I have a few.

what was the last compliment you received? Someone liked my tat today

what was the last text you sent? Night

how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real? Like fifth grade. Devastated.

what is your dream car? One where I have someone driving me around in it lol

opinion on smoking? Let’s get high

do you go to college? Did. Graduated.

what is your dream job? One where I’m happy and giving back and it’s flexible

would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? Oooh toughy.

do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? Lol stop do you know me

do you have freckles? Yes

do you smile for pictures? Yes. I try.

how many pictures do you have on your phone? Dear laws too many

have you ever peed in the woods? Have I!

do you still watch cartoons? Sure

do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds? Chick-fil-A gtfo

Favorite dipping sauce? Chick-fil-A duh. Sriracha is up there and franks hot sauce.

what do you wear to bed? Depends

have you ever won a spelling bee? I should’ve.

what are your hobbies? Painting, music, exercise, Netflix, soccer

can you draw? I try to when I can

do you play an instrument? No I wish.

what was the last concert you saw? Gramatik maybe?

tea or coffee? Also depends. Coffee lately.

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts? Starbs

do you want to get married? Eh

what is your crush’s first and last initial? Bye

are you going to change your last name when you get married? Not sure. Good question.

what color looks best on you? Black of course.

do you miss anyone right now? Yes always.

do you sleep with your door open or closed? Closed.

do you believe in ghosts? Not too sure.

what is your biggest pet peeve? Ignorance.

last person you called? My momma

favorite ice cream flavor? This changes weekly. Lately anything w cookies inside.

regular oreos or golden oreos? Regggg

chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? Don’t care

what shirt are you wearing? Go stros

what is your phone background? Outer space shit

are you outgoing or shy? I can be both it just depends.

do you like it when people play with your hair? Fuckkkkk yes

do you like your neighbors? Don’t know them to be honest.

do you wash your face? at night? in the morning? In the shower yeah

have you ever been high? Yeah

have you ever been drunk? Yeah

last thing you ate? Peanut butter and peach preserves and honey on an English muffin. So bommmbbbbb

favorite lyrics right now: “I ain’t got no business catching feelinzzzz” The Weeknd. Wasted Times.

summer or winter? Winter for its vibes but summer for its weather.

day or night? Been a night owl my whooole life but the older I get the more I appreciate the am.

dark, milk, or white chocolate? All.

favorite month? Fall time. So October. But also July bc my Bday:)

what is your zodiac sign

CANCER♋️