#ghost is just sat by grinning like a fool in this situation

[vivisectedvitality]

ok so my personal thought is that ghost and soap don't get married til their like mid fifties after they retire and even then it's just legal documents they don't have a wedding. and they don't really tell anyone because it doesn't really change much. and then one day 141 meet up for drinks or smth and someone else recognizes soap and goes 'oh hey mr mactavish' and he goes 'hey! n it's mactavish-riley now actually' and holds a whole long bench conversation while everyone else is fucking flabbergasted. and when he finally turns back around theyre like 'repeat that pls' and soaps smug ass is sat there grinning n he goes 'i say again. 's mactavish-riley now'. and everyone loses their mind

[mybiasisexo]

Hii can you do 30 and 22 with Baekhyun? Thank you 🤗

Situationship 🏰

Genre: angst Pairing: Baekhyun x f.Reader Length: 1.9k Warnings: language | not explicit but smut

a/n: I was having the hardest time coming up with a plot for this one and then the song Oranges by Kenya Grace came on and boom this came to me~! At this rate my drabbles are just gonna be over 1k 🙄. tysm for the request and I hope its not too angsty 😊

DRABBLE GAME | MASTERLIST

If you were to ask yourself if you were a terrible person, you’d tell yourself no without any hesitation.

Except when it came to Byun Baekhyun.

He’s a nice guy. A good guy.

And maybe that was the reason why you treated him the way you did.

And that’s what made you a terrible person.

There wasn’t an ounce of surprise on his features when he opened the door to his apartment and saw you on the other side, leaning against the wall. You showed up often enough—usually when you were horny or in need of some comfort. He never turned you away, and tonight was no different.

He grinned at you, the action full of relief, and opened the door wider—an invitation. Never breaking eye contact, you pushed yourself off the wall, sauntering your way toward him. Instead of entering, you reached out to hold his waist with one hand, your other going to the back of his neck, pulling him in for a provocative kiss that gave away your intent for the night. A moan left his mouth as your tongue entered it. Never breaking the kiss, you dragged him deeper into his home, barely giving him time to close the door.

Baekhyun was an amazing lover, the best you’d ever had. It was what kept you coming back. And some days, much like this night, he became so aggressive. It felt like he was punishing you, slamming all the frustrations he carried for the situation into you, forcing you to feel it—to feel him. It drove you crazy. It would have you clawing desperately at his back, legs dangling in the air. You had no doubt the neighbors groaned with irritation when he became like this. What with the constant banging of his bedframe against the wall, his name leaving your swollen lips in screams. Yeah, they probably despised you both.

When he was done with you, you were left violently shaking, struggling to remember where you were, what your name was. All you knew in those moments was him, and the insurmountable pleasure waving throughout your body and soul. He fell beside you, drenched in sweat, swallowing as much air his pouty mouth could fill into his lungs, you would’ve thought he just got done running a marathon.

As you took him in, you noticed that bit of darkness caught in his stare—something you were worried you had given to him. Immediately, the lustful haze surrounding you dissipated and you began gnawing on your lip as the regret started to settle into your bones. You were well aware of what you were doing to him. You knew how he felt about you. Knew how much it pained him when you left. He always tried his best to hide it, to act like he was as content with this arrangement as you were, but it didn’t fool you. No. You knew that he wanted more from you, and you took advantage of it.

It never truly hit you until right after, the ramifications of your selfish actions. It made it hard to look at him, to see just how badly you were wrecking him.

That dark glint in his eyes lingered longer each time, you noticed. He would grow to resent you, wouldn’t he? One day. One day he would close the door on you, and find himself somebody who would return the love he craved. A nice person. Someone who suited him. You felt a pang in your chest at the thought.

Not being able to handle it much longer, you sat up with a sigh, rubbing your damp face. He watched you, but kept silent. Baekhyun knew the routine.

You were starting to shuffle off the mattress when you felt the tips of his fingers ghost down your exposed spine. You completely froze under his touch, your mind seeming to short circuit from the affectionate caress.

“Come lay back down,” he murmured, breaking your silence. His voice was uncharacteristically deep, unintentionally sultry, making you shiver at the prospect of another round.

He began moving when you didn’t. Shuffling around until he was curled behind you, his arms went around your waist as his lips left sweet tender kisses on your bare shoulder.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he confessed breathlessly against your skin.

“Baekhyun….” That was enough to get you moving again. You shook him off, jumping from the bed in search for your panties. Once found, you put them on in a haste, eager to leave. Baekhyun was back to silently observing you, shoulders slumped in defeat.

But that darkness… it seemed to consume him, possessed him, making him grow bold.

“I can’t keep doing this, you know?” He told you, voice steel. “Letting you use me like this? It’s messed up.” He said your name and a chill ran down your spine at the lack of affection.

You ignored it, finding and slipping on your pants. “Well, you’re the one who keeps letting me in.”

“Because you keep coming over!” He exploded. His outburst echoed off the walls, made your shoulders bunch up to your ears. He was heaving, wide eyes pleading. “Why do you keep coming over?”

The question was ripped from his throat, a question he must have asked himself time and time again, the answer always alluding him. But, right now, he needed to know.

It was his ultimatum.

You blinked at him. Why did you keep coming over? Because you couldn’t get enough of him. Couldn’t seem to get him out of your head. You weren’t sure anymore if it was the guilt or…something else. Lately, it’d been worse, the urge to be with him. You liked the way you felt around him, liked listening to his voice, his jokes. Liked how unbearably sweet he could be, how invested in you he was. And not just your body, but your thoughts, your interests. That’s what really brought you here tonight. It wasn’t just the sex—although it was that too—it was, well, him. You just really wanted to see him.

But you couldn’t tell him that.

Emotions…terrified you. Getting close to people like that scared you shitless. You had tried once in the beginning, to be good for him, but you psyched yourself out. Once it started feeling too real you shut down on him, building walls and boarders around your heart to keep him out of it.

“What do you want to hear?” You asked, suddenly exhausted. “That you’re the best lay I’ve ever had? That you fuck me so good I keep coming back even though I know you’re in love with me? That I keep coming back because you’re in love with me? Does that satisfy you? Make you feel better?”

He silently fumed, hurt by your words. His face reddened with embarrassment and shame at your revelation.

“Does that make me the villain?” You continued, voice rising in anger and frustration. Why did he have to do this now? Why was he trying to ruin everything? “Sure, but you’re not innocent either! You’re using me too! You think I don’t know how you use our time together to play out your little fantasies, to pretend we’re something more?” H face grew an even darker shade of red. “You have to take some responsibility for your hurt. It’s not fair to put all the blame on me. I’m not completely heartless, Baekhyun. It makes me sick, knowing that I’m hurting you. Why do you think I always leave? Because the guilt is eating me up inside! And I know, okay? I know that I should end this, that it’s the right thing to do. For both of us. But…I’m selfish. I don’t want to let you go. I don’t want anyone else to have you. Just the thought of someone else touching you—"

You shuddered at the thought.

But then it hit you, what you just revealed. You took Baekhyun in warily, wondering how he would react to your slight confession. His face had cooled down some, took on more a pinkish hue, he studied the floor, his crumbled bed sheets, his fingers—anything but you. If he had heard your slip up, he didn’t mention it.

“I know that you don’t love me,” he revealed quietly. “That you can’t love me. I know that what we have is supposed to be purely physical. I thought I could handle it. Told myself that it was enough for me.” He drew in a large breath, running a hand through his hair, slightly pulling at the strands as he did. “But it’s not. I think I’m even more in love with you now.” He let out a humorless laugh. “But I’m selfish too. And if this is all that you can give me…then fuck it. I’m all in.”

Internally, you sighed. You didn’t see the appeal, didn’t see why he kept suffering just for a piece of your attention. It felt…cruel. You wanted him to stand up for himself. Wanted him to throw you out and tell you to never contact him again. Wanted him to love himself—to choose himself. Instead of choosing this slow torture.

“It’s not….” You swallowed thickly. “I’m not worth it, Baekhyun.”

He blinked at you. “You are to me. You’re one of the most important things in my life. I don’t want to lose you. Not like this.”

You shook your head, fighting with yourself. He loved you. He loved you so much he was willing to break himself, to give you any piece you wanted.

“I’m sorry I said anything. I was just….” He shook his head. “I just didn’t want you to leave yet.”

He searched you, looked for more hesitation, tested to see if he should say more or not.

“I know that you care for me. That you…that you have feelings for me too.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and he shrugged. “’I don’t want anyone else to have you,’” he repeated your words earlier, chuckling when your eyes widened in shock. So, he had heard you.

The smile remained on his face, a shimmer of joy, of hope. He would latch onto that, keep it close, nurture it and see if it grew.

“I know you want to be with me also. That you don’t want to leave. So, just stay this time. Stay for me.”

You take him in, scrutinized him and saw no trace of pain or heartache. There was slight regret, probably from starting this argument in the first place, but mostly you only saw… love.

And for once you wanted to bask in it. You wanted him to hold you, to give into his dreams of having you. Maybe humoring him this time wouldn’t hurt? Maybe…this could be the start of something else. He had been so patient with you, and slowly you had been letting your guard down. You were still terrified, but not as badly as you had been.

“This could be a really bad idea,” you said, never taking your eyes off of him.

He agreed, nodding his head shallowly. “It is a bad idea. But I don’t care. Not when it comes to you.”

You take a step toward him, encouraged by his words, and he fought off a smile.

When you got to the edge of the bed, standing between his legs, you hold his head at his chin, brushing his bangs from his face.

“You’re important to me too,” you confessed. That brought out the smile he’d been fighting. You ran a finger down the side of his face. “I care about you.”

“Does that mean you’ll stay?”

“I’ll stay,” you said. Leaning down to kiss him again, this one slow, unrushed. A promise. A promise to try.

Because you realized, you were worth it. And Baekhyun was worth it too.

[empressofthesunwriter]

Cosmic Phantoms

What do you get if you put a sassy Half-Ghost, a bubbly Magical Ghostly Girl, a strongwilled Goth and a skirt-chasing Tech-Nerd together?

Well, the greatest Ghost Hunting Team on Earth!

Join Danny, Julia, Sam and Tucker on their crazy adventures.

Puberty is a joke against the forces they are up to!

I changed Cosmo's name to Julie Cosmos, even if I keep calling her Cosmos to distance her from her human self, just a heads up ^^

Check out my DeviantArt to see Julia's clothes for season 1!

Parental Bonding

Julia tried her hardest not to cringy and smiled politely at the boy in front of her.

God, with him, it was the seventh boy who asked her out on the dance.

The poor sod didn't fare any better than the others.

He was stuttering and sweating.

She decides to save him from making himself look like a fool.

"Listen here...", what was his name again? Damn, Julia was bad with names. "Nathaniel?"

Okay, she was right he looked at her with hope in his eyes.

The red-haired girl felt bad that she had to crush it.

"I already have a date for the dance, so sorry. I hope you find another date."

With a last smile, she hightailed out of the situation and sat down on the bench where Sam and Danny were eating and Tucker was sulking.

Other than Julia, Tucker couldn't get a date.

"This was suitor, what, number 8?", teased Sam.

Julia got her own lunch out, a simple peanut butter jelly sandwich.

"Number 7.", corrected Julia and bit down on her sandwich. "And I got asked out by four girls, so 11 together."

Frustrated Tucker smashes his head against the table.

"I don't get you, Julie! You are formally swimming in dates and I got zero!"

"I already told you, I have a date."

"Gonna tell us who?", asked Danny.

She nodded and pointed at Sam, who grinned at the surprised boys.

"I asked Sam and she said yes."

"Wowowow, backtrack!", yelled Tucker in disbelief. "YOU asked SAM?"

"Is there a problem Tucker?", said Sam in a sugary-sweet voice which promised broken bones in his future.

Thankful he understood the subtext.

"No, no, no. Just surprised. How Julie has admirers left and right I thought she would go with one of them."

The girl in question snorted.

"Naah, I rather go with my friend, than with someone I barely know. You guys do realise that I'm still the new girl."

"Yeah, and the ones who want to go out with Julia, just want to go out with her for her looks. I'm going with her because she is my friend and we like each other.", added Sam.

But the words of the girls fly over the boy's head.

Confused Sam and Julia look at them.

"What?", asks Sam annoyed.

"Paulina...", chorused Danny and Tucker dreamily together.

Indeed there was Paulina, the most popular and beautiful girl in school. Paulina walks down a pathway while boys stare distractedly at her.

One boy on a bike crashes into a tree, while another walks into a guy sitting on a fountain and they both fall into the water, only to sit up and continue staring.

"Paulina..."

Sam scoffs at these two horny idiots.

"Oh, please! Paulina? Girls like her are a dime a dozen!"

On cue, Danny and Tucker dig through their pockets and pull out some change.

Danny asks even Tucker how much change he has.

This makes Sam fake-laugh.

"Very funny. Just remember: you can't judge a book by its cover."

"I'm with Sam. She may be hot and I would like to tap that-"

"JULIE!"

"-But I don't think Miss Popular and Beauty is very nice."

"Well, there's only one way to find out.", says Tucker and turns to his best friend. "Go on, Danny. Go to that library and check out that book!"

"I can't! I get weak-kneed when I try to talk to cute girls."

This earns him two burning looks of anger from Julia and Sam.

Scary!

"Oh, and you have absolutely no problems talking to us!", hisses Julia like an angry cat.

Julia thinks she is a fairly hot girl and Sam is pretty too, Danny freacking insulted them!

Desperate Danny tries to explain what he means, but Sam nor Julia are having it.

"Skip it.", the two girls say together.

Sam walks over to Danny and lifts him up by the arms.

"Go give your weak knees some exercise.", tells Sam as she formally throws him in Paulina's direction.

The next few minutes are just cringe.

Danny tries to hit on Paulina and somehow turns his pants invisible, showing his boxers, which makes the girl and the whole school laugh.

Julia facepalms in embarrassment, Tucker takes a picture with his PDA and Sam goes to rescue Danny.

None of them know what a stressful week awaits them.

(*)

The next day our four friends are eating in the Food Court of the Amity Park Mall.

A girl from their school passes their table and Tucker tries to hit on her, which of course earns him a no.

"So, your dad is going to chaperone the dance?", repeats Sam what Danny told them.

"Yes, but he doesn't know he's going to chaperone because he doesn't remember that I made him say yes!"

"Let me get this straight. You can just walk into people and take over their bodies from the inside?", says Tucker an idea forming in his head.

Julia looks thoughtful.

"I wonder if I can do it too?"

"Well, there is a way Julie to find out. Why don't you try to jump into a girl for two minutes and get me a date.", proposes Tucker excitedly.

The girl just deadpans. This was so wrong on many levels.

"No."

"Shot...Danny?"

"Forget it. You can get your own date for the dance like I did."

"Does he have to take off his pants and act like a dweeb?", ask Sam sarcastic. "Or will either one do?"

Tucker and Julia snort and send then an apologetic look at an annoyed Danny.

"Honestly, guys, I'm glad that Julie asked me as friends to go to the dance. Even if I have to wear that stupid dress my parents bought me.", Sam chuckles nervously.

"Now, now, Samantha.", tutts Julia and pats her hand. "It's not a crime to like a dress. Being feminine doesn't make you less Goth, I mean look at Morticia Addams!"

"Well, if you say it like this..."

"So no one besides Julie asked you, huh?", deducts Tucker.

"Maybe if I was as pretty as Paulina.", growls Sam.

"Why are you so down on her?", wondered Danny. "So she's pretty. It's not a crime. You certainly don't are like this with Julie."

"Aww, you think I'm pretty?", gushes Julia happy, her hand on her heart and a small blush on her cheeks.

"Julie has a beautiful soul to back up her looks.", counters Sam, which makes Julia turn redder.

"Guys, you turn me all shy!"

Suddenly people start screaming and running away behind the quartet. Danny's ghost sense goes off, while Julia's Necklace burns.

"Ghost time.", mussed Tucker holding up some fries. "Can I finish your fries?"

Danny doesn't give him an answer and takes Julia by the hand. The two hide behind some plants and transform.

They fly up to a blue dragon ghost.

"Say, haven't we met somewhere?", asks Phantom.

The dragon roars and breathes green fire at them, which luckily they can dodge.

"Let's try this again. Hi, I'm Danny Phantom and she is Julie Cosmos.", he points at Cosmos, who waves awkwardly. "And you are?"

Sadly the dragon doesn't care for formalities. It roars and hits Phantom and Cosmos with her tail.

Both yell and crash into the kitchen of the nearby Weenie On-A-Skewer.

Hurting, Phantom holds his head.

"Testy got it."

"I would say feisty.", corrects Cosmos, rubbing her own hurt head.

The dragon breathes more fire at the store's counter and the two half-ghosts fly out of the way.

"Sorry, dude! I think you got the wrong weenies!", puns Phantom, which makes Cosmos snort.

What can she say, she loves lame jokes.

Together they smack into the dragon, pushing it through the air.

It grabs them mid-flight and skids to a halt, then pins them on the ground.

"Must have tee!", it roars in their faces.

"Tea?", repeats Cosmos confused.

"Tea? Ooh, good idea. Coffee could make you a mite jittery. Better yet...", shouts Phantom, grabs Cosmos and turns them intangible sinking into the ground. 

The dragon looks perplexedly at its claws.

Cosmos and Phantom fly back up through the ground.

"Have some punch!"

They doppel-punch the dragon, making it fly high and away.

Since neither has the Fenton Thermos with them, they join up with Sam and Tucker, transforming back.

"Julie! Danny! Are you okay?", ask Sam worried.

Julia nods.

"A bit bruised but nothing to worry about."

"Fine.", waves Danny off. "But that's the second time I've fought that dragon. We need to investigate. How are you guys?"

"Great...if you don't count me still being dateless for the dance.", laments Tucker tapping on his PDA. "Sasha, no. Denise, no. I've hit every girl in school except... "

He trails off as a pretty African-American girl walks up to them.

"Valerie."

"Yeah, hi.", she greets desinterested back. "Sucker, is it?"

"Tucker. Or Tuck. Or Tuckerino."

"Which ends with 'no.' Which, by the way, is my answer, unless something happens in the next five minutes that makes me dateless."

To Tucker's luck her date Kwan, one of Dash's football friends, tells her he will go with Donna so she is now dateless, before he walks away.

Signing Valerie says yes to Tucker and leaves too.

"Some may call it the rebound, but I call it a yes! I got a date! Whoo!", celebrates Tucker and points at his pants. "And the pants are still on!"

Julia shakes her head.

"You really needed to point that out, huh?"

(*)

It's the evening of the dance.

Sam and Julia decide to get ready at Sam's house.

Julia is still surprised that Sam told her first her little secret and not Danny or Tucker since she knows them longer.

She feels honoured.

While Julia finished her make-up, Sam, in her cool goth ballgown, was with the boys on a Sky-Call.

"Tie straight. Shirt tucked in.", Julia hears Danny's voice coming from the laptop. "Unbreakable ghost fishing line tucked neatly away just in case.  What's taking so long with that dragon research, Sam?"

"Alright! Jeez!", grumbles Sam and Julia hears her tipping away. "Here. I'm sending you the link."

"That's it!  Medieval ghostly legend held that the cursed Amulet of Aragon could transform any wearer into dragon form under states of extreme emotional duress or anger. That's the amulet I gave to Paulina. It must have accidentally fallen into my backpack. Wait. You mean...I'm going on a date with a dragon?!", says Danny astonished.

Curious Julia walks over to check the website herself.

"Kinda sounds like what my Necklace can do, only I have more control over it."

Sam nods in agreement.

"I had the same thought but I didn't find anything about an amulet or necklace which transforms a person into a ghost, I'm sorry Julie."

The redhead just signs.

"Thanks anyway, Sam, honey."

This is when Julia notes how Tucker and Danny are staring at her with big blushes on their faces.

She raises an eyebrow.

"What?"

"You-You...look really nice.", stutters Danny.

"Nice?!", shouts Tucker. "You look like a fairytale princess!"

A soft blue gloved hand goes to Julia's mouth to hide her smiles and giggles.

"Thanks guys."

Smiling smug Sam wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"Didn't I tell you...you are 1000 times prettier than Paulina."

"Guys, stop, I gonna pass out!"

"Right, we will see you boys at the dance!"

With that Sam ends the Sky Call.

After Julia calms down enough, Sam's father drives them to the dance, where they meet an annoyed Tucker.

He did go with Valerie to the ball, but she ditched him the second she saw her friends.

Sam and Julia try to cheer him up.

Danny and Paulina finally arrive and he tries his best to somehow get the amulet back.

He shouldn't have probably said that the amulet belonged to Sam since Paulina turned partial dragon and broke her punch glass.

Then he had to overshadow his dad since Lancer talked to him.

In his dad's body, Danny runs up to his friends.

"Tucker, Sam, Julie we've got trouble.", he whisper-shouts at them.

"We had nothing to do with it, Mr. Fenton. It was all Danny's idea.", says Tucker, thinking they are in trouble with an adult.

"Tucker, it's me. It's Danny.", makes Danny clear and hands them walkie-talkies. "Sam, Julie, you try to help me find Paulina. Tucker, keep an eye on my dad. If he starts talking to anyone, page me, got it?"

"This dance gets better and better with every passing minute.", musses Sam happy.

The three split up, running in different directions.

As Julia is currently trying politely to decline a dance with a boy, she thinks his name is Jake, and trying to find Paulina, she hears over the Walkie-Talkie how Sam found their target.

"Where are you?", asks Julia.

"Girl bathroom."

"Danny, I will go with Sam."

"Understood and girls don't make her angry."

Julia and Sam meet up before the bathroom.

They decide Sam should talk to Paulina, while Julia stands guard and is ready to transform if necessary.

Paulina is checking herself in a mirror as Sam walks up behind her in the reflection.

"Hey, Paulina. Nice dress.", starts Sam awkwardly the conversation.

The Latina turns to her, a hand on the amulet.

"Yes, and it goes so nicely with your amulet, don't you think?"

Both Sam and Julia are confused.

"My amulet? That's not my--", Sam stops herself as she realises Danny's plan. "Right! Listen...my grandma gave me that amulet, and--"

"Forget it, sweetie.", scoffs Paulina. "I'm not giving up this trinket or your little boyfriend Danny."

"My boyfriend? Ha ha! And they say pretty girls can't be funny. Danny is not my boyfriend."

"He's not?"

"He's my best friend. Maybe that's why I was so hard on you. I didn't mean to call you shallow."

"What a bummer! I only agreed to go out with him because I thought I was stealing him from you.", confesses Paulina and puts the amulet on Sam. "Here, take your crummy amulet. I'm going back inside to dump your dorky friend."

Sam shakes with anger and the amulet starts to glow. Her skin turns blue and scaly and her eyes turn red.

"Shallow little witch!"

She transforms into the blue dragon and roars.

Paulina faints.

"Shit! Star, transform me!", shouts Julia and turns into Julie Cosmos.

She barely manages to grab Paulina's bridal style and turn them intangible to fly out of the bathroom.

Dragon-Sam doesn't care to destroy property and flies after them.

"Give. Me. Witch!", roars Dragon Sam at Cosmos, who does her best to dodge her flames.

That's when Danny Phantom finally enter the scene and kicks Dragon-Sam in the back.

She falls and crashes onto the football field.

"Take it easy, Paulina. You don't want to hurt Sam."

That's when he notices how Cosmos has Paulina's bridal style in her arms.

"Paulina? Sam?!"

"Shallow girl!", roar Dragon-Sam standing on her hide-legs.

"Yep, that's Sam."

"Took you long enough!", calls Cosmos.

Dragon-Sam breathes fire at him and he turns intangible to avoid it, then reappears.

"Whoa! Sam! Two words: breath mints."

Uninterest Dragon-Sam turns back to Cosmos and Paulina and hits Phantom away with her tail.

He goes flying into the bleacher but thankful turns intangible.

"Sam, it's me, Julie, you wouldn't hurt me right?", tries Cosmos to reach her friend.

For a second it seems Dragon-Sam calms down, only to roar again and shoot fire at them.

Cosmos turn them intangible and invisible.

With Paulina in her arms she can't fight, so she gently places her back in the bathroom.

Hopeful Dragon-Sam won't look here for her.

Then Cosmos flies back to the football field and attacks Dragon-Sam with her grey ectoplasm rays.

The dragon falls on his stomach groaning.

Phantom comes up beside Cosmos.

"Paulina?"

"In a safe place, now we only need to get the amulet from Sam!"

The male Halfa agrees, and both get ready to fight Dragon-Sam, when Tucker warns Phantom per Walkie-Talkie how Lancer is close to his father.

"Go!", shoves Cosmos him. "Give me the Fenton Fisher, I think I know how I can catch this dragon!"

"I own you one, Cosmos!"

So Phantom hands her the Fenton Fisher before he flies back to the dance.

Cosmos get the Fenton Fisher ready as Dragon-Sam sends three fire blasts at her, which she can dodge.

"I hate to say this Sam, but your aim is as bad as the patriarchy!"

This annoys Dragon-Sam to no end, which gives Cosmos the chance to cast the fishing line around her neck.

Dragon-Sam continually breathes fire at Cosmos, who keeps wrapping the line around her until her wings and arms are secure.

She drops to the ground.

Immediately Cosmos flies down to her and removes the amulet.

The dragon transforms back into her human self.

"Sam, honey?", ask the detransformed Julia worried her friend. "Are you okay?"

"Wow.", groans Sam, holding her head, while Julia has a hand on her back. "Did I have fun at the dance?"

"Well, I'm not Danny but I think he would say: You had a roaring time."

This makes Sam laugh quietly.

Soon the boys join them and congratulate Julia on fighting her first enemy alone and being victorious.

The quartet walks back into the slowly filling out gym.

"Dude, sorry your date didn't pan out.", says Tucker "Where is Paulina anyway?"

Julia and Sam see the girl in question with Dash. They look at each other and then shake their heads.

"Ah, who cares?", finds Sam.

"Yes, look, guys! The DJ's still playing. And I gonna dance now with my date!", proclaims Julia.

Laughing Sam lets herself lead by Julia on the dance floor, where the two girls slow dance.

The boys smile at how cute they are and Tucker makes even a picture of them with his PDA.

Then suddenly Sam grabs Danny and Julia Tucker.

"We didn't forget you!", say the girls together.

Now the boys laugh while they twirl their dance partner around.

"Promise me you'll keep your pants up.", jokes Sam to Danny, which makes all laugh.

"I'll do my best."

After a few moments, they change partners again.

Danny dances now with Julia and Sam with Tucker.

"Your pants still good?", asks Julia with a cheeky grin.

"All good, don't worry.", promises Danny.

Well, their first High School Dance could have gone a lot worse, but as long the four have each other they will always make the best out of anything.

[landinoandco]

Mick Schumacher x reader

A timely confession

Request from @gpiggy98

Warnings: fluff:)

Word count: 1.8 k

Rating: Teen and up

When Guenther had announced that Mick Schumacher was going to be joining the team - the whole of Haas were ecstatic. There were many ways to describe him, his kind and nurturing nature, his dedication to any job he sets out to do and his gentle manner that could put anyone at ease. As gutted as you were to not be Romain’s assistant going into the 2021 season, getting Mick was definitely going to make up for it. The day you were scheduled to meet him, to go over the pre-season press plan - you were excited to show him around, introduce him to the team and talk about the new challenges you were going to be facing together. What you hadn’t expected was the inability to form a proper sentence whenever he came near you - which, as his assistant proved to be less than practical. 

“Hey, it’s lovely to meet you.” Mick had said when Guenther had introduced you that day. 

“I - uh - likewise. I’m really looking forward to working with you this year.” You had stuttered. Never in your career before had you stuttered when introducing yourself - a pink flush creeped up your neck betraying you completely. Fortunately for your sake, Mick smiled innocently and shook your hand, when he clasped your hand in his you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter. 

Guenther watched on in amusement, obviously thoroughly enjoying the experience of you making a fool out of yourself. 

After the tour - in which you had tripped over your words a fair few times - you said your goodbyes and trudged angrily up to Guenther’s office. Slouching on the chair in front of your desk, you sighed loudly. “What a day.” You uttered, pinching the bridge of your nose with your thumb and forefinger. 

“How did it go?” Guenther asked, passing you a glass of water. 

“I kept tripping over my words, to be completely honest with you it was slightly traumatic.” You replied honestly, taking the glass gratefully and taking a sip. 

“You get the chance to work with Mick and you call it slightly traumatic?” Guenther mocked, the corner of his lips turning up. 

“Tomorrow’s a new day - maybe I’m coming down with something.” You wiped your forehead in anguish. 

As it turns out you were coming down with something but unfortunately it wasn’t really something that could be cured in a matter of days. You finally worked out what was wrong when Mick had asked you to grab a little bit of lunch with him before the first race in Bahrain. You had to keep reminding yourself that it wasn’t a date, it was for work and only work. 

It was a well known fact that Mick was a heartthrob, a real life Prince Charming who drives cars for a living. His crystal blue eyes were seemingly easy to get lost in - perhaps that was half your issue. The way he was so softly spoken, lulled you into a trance. His mannerisms resembled that of a golden retriever pup and after that you realised - you were falling for Mick Schumacher. 

You were sitting in a terraced cafe, looking over the city landscape near to where the track was. Picking on chips, as Mick asked about your career up to this point. 

“What made you want to become an assistant?” He asked, passing you the plate of chips. 

You picked one up and waved it at him, “I’ve always been in love with the sport and what better way to experience it first hand than work with the drivers. I could never have been one so join them, I suppose.” 

“Did you ever race as a child then?” He asked, leaning onto his elbows, a lopsided grin plastered onto his face. 

“I did for a while.” You nodded and took a bite of your chip. 

“Maybe, during the summer break, we should go go-karting. Show me some of the good tracks in the UK.” He declared, completely oblivious to the effect it had on you. The familiar pink tinge that had gotten too used to creeping up onto your neck, the corner of your eyes crinkled as you gazed into his eyes. 

“I would really like that.” You stayed transfixed, gazing longingly at him. If only he knew how you truly felt or even better - if he felt the same way. You knew he never could, at the end of the day he had been given an opportunity to drive in formula one and you knew he wasn’t going to let a girl he worked with distract him from that. 

You cleared your throat and tore your eyes away from him - as much as it pained you - and stood up but as you turned back around, you realised that he was still watching you, his eyes glinted and the corner of his mouth quirked up. 

“I suppose we should think about getting you back, wouldn’t want them thinking you’ve gotten lost.” You said, forcing a smile onto your face. 

A few weeks later and it was time for the race in Imola, the rain was pouring down and the team’s strategists had re-grouped to come up with a strategy to fit in with the weather. Unlike for people at home, watching a wet race as part of a team was never enjoyable - the tensions thick throughout the race. Over the few weeks that you had been working with Mick, your feelings only grew stronger but since the season was well underway you found yourself spending more and more time with him. It was an impossible situation that you wished upon nobody. 

You had never been good with nerves and that was clear as you paced up and down his room. 

“Liebe.” It was his new nickname for you. “Why are you so stressed. When you start stressing, so do I and do you really want me to-” You stopped pacing and sat next to him, he placed his hand on your shoulder in an attempt to calm you. If anything it made you worse. 

“I know, I’m sorry Mick.” You exhaled shakily and looked around the room. You had seen a fair few wet races in your time and not all of them had ended nicely, in fact the majority of the time someone ended up in the wall. “Racing in the rain always makes me nervous.” You looked down at your lap, toying with your fingers. You looked at him desperately, “Just promise me you will be careful.” 

“Damn,” He whispered, “You know I was really considering driving off the track today. A little off-roading never hurt anyone.” He laughed at your horrified expression. “I’m only teasing, Liebe. You know I will be careful. Extra careful so I won’t get a telling off from you - or Guenther.” You allowed yourself to chuckle slightly, he nudged his knee with yours and tried to catch your eye but you deliberately avoided it, nibbling on your lip and furrowing your eyebrows. 

He placed his finger under your chin and lifted it to meet his gaze then placing his hand either side of your face. Breath hitching in your throat and your heart having an absolute field day, you blushed profusely, once again unable to look away from his intense gaze. 

“What’s on your mind?” He asked,  you could feel his breath fanning across your face. You shut your eyes, hands clammy and you didn’t know whether you could trust your voice. 

“I care about you.” You managed to stutter, your eyes still closed. At least this way, you couldn’t see his expression when he realised. 

“I care about you, Liebe, but you already know this-” He began carelessly. 

“No, Mick.” You opened your eyes, his brows knitted. “I care about you more than I should.” Your tone was hushed, his eyes flickered with realisation, his mouth curved into a beaming grin. He moved his face so your lips were only a tantalizing distance from each other, “Why didn’t you say so sooner.” His lips brushed yours as he spoke and when you didn’t answer he closed the distance. Capturing your lips with his, it was like two puzzle pieces had been put together. 

There was a knock at the door and the pair of you jumped apart - a voice called out: “Mick it’s time to head to the track.”

Reluctantly he got up, brushing down his race suit and held out his hand to help you up - instead of letting go once you got to your feet, he proceeded to pull you into his chest. “We shall talk about this after the race, Liebe.” He kissed the tip of your nose and walked out the door, leaving you lost for words behind him. You could still feel the ghost of his lips on yours, relishing in the events of a couple of moments ago - playing it over and over again in your head. 

It was a tense 2 hours in the Haas garage - the race far from lacking action; with Latifi crashing into the wall on lap one then on lap four Mick losing the backend of his car whilst under the safety car and crashing into the exit of the pitlane. Fortunately with a new front wing he was able to carry on and finished the race 16th. They weren’t the only two to crash as Bottas and Russel came together - even Hamilton ran off the road. Imola was proving to be savage in the rain. 

As soon as Mick crossed the finishing line, the whole garage relaxed, hugging and cheering. He had matched his result from Bahrain and managed to finish in front of Nikita. As far as Haas was concerned - it was a successful day. As his assistant you were to meet him at Parc fermé to take him to his weigh-in and post-race interviews. As soon as he saw you he took his helmet off and wrapped you into his arms, your feet coming off of the floor. You giggled and placed your hands either side of his face. 

“I was as careful as I could be.” He assured, a smirk toying at the corner of his lips. You shook your head at him, your mouth curved into a wide smile. 

“You did a good job.” You said to him, he wrapped his arms around your waist - pulling you closer into him. Then he dipped his face and connected your lips, rain falling around you. It was atmospheric and cheesy all at the same time.

There were wolf-whistles and cheers around you, as passing drivers walked by. You pulled your face away, both of your cheeks resembled tomatoes but it didn’t really matter. You knew you could never be happier with Mick by your side.

They say home is where the heart is and as long as you were with Mick - you were home.

[acciowests]

Hi! I'm sorry to bother you, but I have a question: could you write a fanfic about Elorcan, in which Lorcan finds out he's a father for the first time? Ps: I really like your writings! Have a good day! ♥️

sorry this is on the shorter side, i hope you like it nonetheless!!

A New Chapter

WORD COUNT: 737

SUMMARY: Elide wakes to Lorcan smelling her and checking if she's well. When she realises he's getting closer and closer to figuring out her secret, she decides it's finally time to share her news.

Elide awoke that morning with her husband beneath the covers, his nose travelling along her bare leg. In other situations, this could have been a pleasuring motion, his lips pressing delicate kisses against her sensitive otherwise untouched skin, making his way to her inner thigh and further. But this, oddly, was not that.

"Lorcan?" she chuckled, sitting up on her elbows and watching with utmost amusement as his head popped up beside her, "What exactly are you doing?"

Instead of answering, he just tilted his head, narrowing his eyes at her as his hands came to rest on her cheeks, the back of his palm then pushing against her forehead. "Are you well?" he asked with every ounce of suspicion.

She laughed, unable to stop her smile as she took his hands in hers ad squeezed them, "Yes, baby. Perfectly well. Though I'm rather confused right now, Lord Lorcan Lochan."

He rolled his eyes but settled against her happily, his head on her bare breast as she wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "You smell funny," he grumbled, "I was wondering if you were sick or something."

"Not sick, baby. I'm fine really, I haven't been happier in a while honestly," she replied, running a hand through his hair. Unknown to her husband, she slipped her other hand beneath the covers, resting it on the slight swell only she knew about. She had been dropping hints for days and still nothing, her mate was nothing if not oblivious. She had never called him baby so many times and the fool still hadn't picked up on it. That loveable idiot.

He slipped a hand around her hip, almost brushing her hand where it rested on her tummy, "Maybe it's your cycle, you're late aren't you?"

She froze, praying he wouldn't realise like this, "Uh, yeah. But I've always been a little irregular, you know that."

He just hummed, nodding slowly and turning his mouth to her when she brushed a kiss to his lips. It was now or never. Feeling the spring breeze on her bare skin, she slipped out from under the cover, standing from the bed and turning to her husband. The slight curve of her stomach was clear, but it could easily be mistaken for bloat, especially during her time of the month or after she'd eaten. Lorcan didn't even blink at the gentle roundness of her, more intrigued by other aspects of her body. A pink blush grew on her cheeks as she stood naked before him, taking his hand and pulling him into a sitting position.

"El?" he asked confusingly, "Come back to bed, what are you doing?"

"I wanted to introduce you to someone," she whispered, hands shaking at her sides. Slowly, so painfully slowly, she brought them to her navel, swivelling on her heels so she was stood to the side, proudly showing the growing babe inside her.

His jaw dropped open as he stood, moving toward her and placing a hand over her own. His eyes were wide with disbelief. Dropping to his knees, he brushed his nose against her stomach, deeply inhaling as tears scattered his cheeks. She knew what he was smelling on her now.

Reaching to touch his face, she lifted his chin so his eyes were meeting her own, "Meet Lord Cal Lochan. I have a pretty strong feeling that's him in there."

After pressing a kiss to her stomach, Lorcan was rising on his feet, lifting Elide from her own and holding her so tightly against him. Her legs came up to wrap around his hips, connecting against his back as her hands hooked securely around his neck. She could feel his tears, cold and forthcoming, against her shoulder as he hid his face. His hands were shaking where they rested on her back, legs slowly moving as he sat back down against the bed, her in his lap.

"Baby, look at me," she sniffed, her own tears stinging against her eyes.

He looked up, his mouth barely forming the word, "Baby."

She could only nod, a grin aching her jaw as Lorcan's wet face pressed into her neck, her hands rubbing up and down his muscular back. This was the start of a whole new chapter; their family was growing, a baby was on its way, a possible new Lord of Perranth. Their first child, and a whole new book of memories to make.

* * *

if you wanted to be added to my tog taglist just send me a dm, comment or an ask!

@amswritings @thegoddessofyou @dayanna-hatter @hellasblessed @julemmaes @lunaroseperdomo @anne-reads @illyrian-bookworm @swankii-art-teacher @maastrash @firestarsandseneschals @se-ono-waise-ilia @tomtenadia @sobasicallyno @arwenbk3 @rowaelinismyotp @thegreyj @vanzetanze @lysandra-ghost-leopard @gracie-rosee @live-the-fangirl-life @story-scribbler @evolving-dreamer

[rogue-durin-16]

AN UNUSUAL YEAR (Part V/V)

Summary: After having little to no interest on girls for five years, Fred suddenly feels the need to nag the shit out of a certain witch, completely oblivious to the reason behind it.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!Reader

Genre: fluff (+ enemies to lovers)

Tags:

An unusual year: @natural-hearts @manuosorioh @lumos-solemn @westyywifee @whiskeyn-rain @warlock--protection @gossip-girl-ecr @fandomscombine @birdy944 @28cnn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: a little angst, a little snogging 👀

A/N: maybe a bit longer than I expected but it's alright. Also I might write an addition to this story, not sure tho. I hope y'all enjoyed reading this story as much as I did writing it <3

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Y/n! Come sit with us?" George waved at me from the Gryffindor table as I entered the Great Hall, prompting me to sit across him and Angelina, and besides Fred. "Where's Mathilda?" He asked as I got closer, leaving my books on the wooden surface.

"She's feeling unwell." As I sat down, I noticed George's arm around Angelina and I couldn't help the knowing grin that tugged the corner of my lips. "The date exchange at the Ball turned out well, huh?"

"I could say the same about you." He wiggled his brows at me with the same grin I had.

I felt a sudden rush of panic going through my body. My eyes traveled to the boy by my side, who was oddly quiet, and I found him already peeking at me.

"Meaning?" I decided to play dumb, taking a bite of my golden slice of toast whilst ignoring the intending gazes of the couple in front of me.

"You two were having a great time last night." Angelina jumped in, leaning over her table. "Didn't see you coming back, Fred." She added, redirecting her eyes to the ginger.

"I did." His brother laughed. "I daresay you two had an intense night." I felt my cheeks reddening, not finding enough strength to meet George's look. "It was about time, really."

I was startled by Fred abruptly standing up. "See you in class." The curt reply he offered before fleeing shocked all of us; specially his brother, who, with a polite apology, left me and Angelina to go after his twin.

"I feel like I shouldn't ask." She spoke quietly.

"I don't have an answer."

I feared she would see through me. I hadn't lied, but my gut told me whatever happened had to do with the change of demeanor he had at the end of our night out.

I wouldn't say it out loud but a part of me began to worry.

The worry stayed throughout that entire week, guilt joining it at some point. Fred's attendance in Charms, Astronomy and Potions had decreased; I had only see him attend once to Astronomy. The only thing he did was play with his quill and, whenever he thought I didn't notice, stare at me.

Ironically enough, we started spending most of the time together; after the winter break, George had incorporated both Mathilda and me to their friend group, which, in different circumstances, would have been great.

Alicia Spinnet gained special interest on my best friend; Lee Jordan would joke about Slytherins and Gryffindors getting together, and Angelina— well, she seemed happier now that she could hang out with all her friends at the same time.

Fred was miserable. Everyone could see it, yet they did their best to cover it up.

George would overcompensate his brother's attitude by being louder and paying extra attention to me, but it worsened the situation.

I wanted to ask Fred what was wrong, but then again we weren't even good friends, so was it really my place to ask?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

George had proposed a trip to Hogsmade a couple of days ago and we all agreed on going, but the day came and Fred wasn't there.

His brother alleged he had a terrible headache and had chosen to stay in bed. We all saw through his excuse, and once more no one said a word.

It was that night that George came to look for me.

"—well then, go get her!" His shouts got into the common room when a second year entered..

"What's this about?" I inquired, coming out to the hallway to see the ginger about to throw hands at my prefect.

"I need you." He stated, quickly losing interest on whatever the prefect had to say. I only nodded and motioned him to move with me far from the Slytherin door. "You have to speak to Fred now." He almost pleaded, a frown of worry forming on his face.

"Sure— wait, now?" I stared at him in confusion.

"Sorry, I know it's late" his apology didn't mean he would ask me to do it in the morning instead.

I let out a sigh before inquiring, "Where's he?"

"The Astronomy tower, I believe." He replied.

"Alright," I said more to myself. "I'll go grab my jacket." He murmured another apology and a thank you before heading off to his House.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I came to a halt at the top of the stairs when I saw him sat against the wall, his knees pulled to his chest with his arms around them, and his face buried between them."Hey there, stranger."

He raised his head, letting his eyes and nose be seen."Who gave me away?"

"George."

"Tosser" he muttered, taking his gaze to the levitating bundle of newspaper on fire that was probably keeping him somewhat warm up there.

"Is it that bad to see me now?" I took a couple of careful steps towards the boy.

"It's always that bad to see you."

"Odd for you to say that," I let myself slide down the wall to sit by his side with my legs stretched out. "given how much you stare."

"Touché." He replied, the ghost of a smile breaking through his depressed demeanor. "What are you doing here?"

"What's wrong?"

"I asked first."

"I asked second." He raised his brows at me and it was my turn to avert my eyes from him. "I'm... Worried. About you."

When I shivered due to the wind flowing through the tower, he scooted closer and moved the little fire with his wand for it to be in the middle.

"You're all dejected and sulky," I explained. "You barely attend to our classes together, and if you do, you don't pay attention." I felt him shift uncomfortable by my side. "I'm... I'm gonna regret this— I miss you being a bloody nuisance."

"I knew you loved it." His teasing, though it was meant to be funny, sounded almost painful.

"now, what's wrong?" He shrugged, his chin resting over his forearms. "Listen, if you're not gonna tell me, it's fine, but at least tell George."

"Are you thick?" The bitterness in his tone took me aback. "Y/n, I fancy you." He hid his face between his arms. "quite a lot, actually." He added in a mumble.

"I figured that at the ball, you know?" This time it was me who scooted closer. "Tell me that's not the reason behind this."

"Would you like me to lie?" He questioned, shame slipping out with his voice. "I'm a very good liar you wouldn't even question it." He took a deep breath before looking back up, stretching one of his legs and leaning against the wall. "At the ball, I tried to start something." He began, fidgeting with his hands. "I... This never happened to me, so I wasn't- I didn't know what I was doing, but I thought I was making it clear." He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. "But when I left you—"

"You know I fancy you too, right?" I tilted my head, searching for his eyes. "As in, more than a one time thing."

"That I didn't know." I felt a pang of guilt, realizing that unconsciously I had played a big part on this.

FRED'S P. O. V.

We stayed in silence.

It wasn't an unsettling silence, but the air weighed over us due to the tension floating on it; I needed to defuse it, otherwise it would crush me.

My heart hammered against my chest while I extended my arm to hold her hand on mine.

It's not meant to be nerve-wracking, I thought to myself as I pulled her hand away from her lap; we had already made clear we fancied each other.

The moment she put her head on my shoulder, the tension completely dissipated. I didn't notice the sigh that left my lungs when it happened.

"Didn't put you, Fred Weasley, in the I'm-a-bundle-of-nerves-with-girls category."

"Oh, shut it." I threw my head back, laughing for the first time in a couple of weeks.

"Never." She gave my hand a squeeze and I allowed my cheek to rest over her crown. "You could, of course, find a way to shut me up."

It wasn't her words that cracked me up, but the suggestive tone she used, which took me back to that night in the Duelling Room when I accidentally let slip my feelings for her for the first time.

I raised my head from hers. "Beg your pardon?" I played the fool, trying to hide the ghost of a smile when she shoot me a wide-eyed look. "What are you insinuating, woman?"

"Do you really wanna start the teasing now?" She gave me a warning glare.

"You've just said you missed it." I couldn't hold back the chuckle.

"I knew I was gonna regret it." She groaned, throwing her head back. My eyes, finally on her, traveled to her now exposed neck and collarbone. Though they weren't visible, I could see the trail of kisses I had left there just a few weeks ago. "Stop staring and kiss me."

It didn't take anything else for me to throw the levitating burning paper away and tug her closer by her hand.

The moment our mouths met, I slipped my hand away from Y/n's so I could led her thighs to straddle my legs.

A quiet moan escaped my lips when she rolled her hips against mines; my hands automatically traveled up from her thighs to her waist, pulling her flush against me.

The temperature in the high, cold tower had shot up all from sudden. Just as we were about to start discarding clothes, quick steps were heard climbing up the stairs.

"Fuck!" She whisper-shouted, practically pushing me away as she got up. "Move, move, move!" As she helped me up and we ran to hide, it dawned on me that we were way past curfew. That got me moving.

We waited for Filch to get to the top of the tower before running down as fast as we could.

"No time for goodbyes!" she warned as we rushed through the vast hallways with Filch after us. "See you tomorrow—"

Before she could sprint downstairs to the dungeons, I grabbed her hand and pulled her into a side hall.

"You won't make it to the dungeons." I stated between pants, glancing at the path we had taken. I wasn't able to see the caretaker yet, but his pants could be heard. "Take the other stairs I'll distract him."

"You'll get grounded." She observed, her breathing as heavy as mine, if not more.

"Worth it." I curtly reply, feeling the corners of my lips twisting up.

"You know?" She pushed herself off the wall she had leaned against to catch her breath. "Sometimes you're really sweet."

"Quick!" I tugged on her hand, seeing Filch finally turn the corner. "Gimme a good luck kiss!"

She pulled me down and kissed my lips briefly before taking off in the other direction. I had to tell myself to shake off that stupid smile and run.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

READER'S P. O. V.

The next morning I eagerly made my way to the Great Hall with two goals; having breakfast, of course, and checking if Fred had made it to his House without getting caught.

I soon spotted the group, this time sitting on the Slytherin table.

Soon his eyes found me too, and without saying a word to anyone, he got up and jogged to meet me halfway.

"Did you make it?" I asked, standing way too close to him and therefore attracting some nosey looks.

"By a whisker." He responded, taking a look around before looking back at me. "I was wondering if you'd like to go for a drink after class." I raised my eyebrows at him with a smirk. "We can use a passage to get to Hogsmade."

"Are you asking me on a proper date, Weasley?" I teased with my hands on my hips. "How cute."

He avoided eye contact, deciding to take another look around instead. "I swear if you tease me right now—"

"I'm free after four." I cut him off. "Now if you excuse me, I'm hungry." I passed him by, playfully bumping his shoulder, and made my way to our friends.

I didn't get far before his hands spun me around and cupped my cheeks, giving me a surprisingly deep kiss. "Are you gonna kill me?" He murmured, his lips still ghosting over mines.

"Oh, you know me so well." I replied, feeling my face heating up. We couldn't help but laugh when whistles and hollers came from behind me. "I might kill them too." I added, making fall into a fit of laughter as we pulled away in order to walk to where our friends sat. "I wanna have breakfast in peace." I warned them, sitting down with Fred by my side.

Everyone was giving looks at each other and trying to hold back the giggles, so I knew a comment was coming, but not from whom.

I could instantly tell I wasn't the only one shocked by the speaker. "But you just had him for breakfast." My best friend responded, faking confusion.

"I was just thinking about that!" Lee yelled, a bit too excited.

"Mathilda Foxglove—" I began, everyone cracking up.

"You are doomed." Fred finished, shoving a toast into his mouth to stop his laughter.

"It was worth it." She stated between giggles.

Fred gave me a side look with a half smile and I thanked Merlin no one could see the boy's fingers interlaced with mines under the table.

[enterprisetrampstamp]

Request: TOS Spock and Bones being an adorable married couple while aboard the Enterprise!

"All I'm saying is, you could've warned me," Bones was complaining, before the fabric of his uniform pants had even touched the plastic of the bench across the table from his Captain.

Jim, his focus directed at the PADD containing the paperwork that Yeoman Rand would be coming to fetch in less than five minutes, hummed a neutral acknowledgement and trusted his Chief Medical Officer to continue his diatribe with only that minimum of prompting.

"A chance to prepare--" Bones's fork flicked through the air-- "A chance to brace myself. Pretty sure that after everything you've put me through over the years, Jimmy, I deserved one."

"Almost certainly," Jim agreed, dashing off another signature with the rubber tip of his stylus.

"Good of you to admit it. Spock didn't!"

"What didn't I do, Doctor?" Spock asked, and-- unlike when Bones had sat down-- Jim looked up to shoot his Number One a crooked grin of welcome. (It wasn't about Spock, specifically-- it was about that, that warm feeling of vicarious happiness he got at seeing his two best friends oh-so-casually brush their fingers against each other in a gentle "Good morning" kiss.)

Bones rolled his eyes; Spock raised an eyebrow.

"You wouldn't admit I deserved a bit of warning before you dumped an entire crop of fresh-faced, bushy-tailed morons in my lap." Bones stabbed at his eggs vindictively, his expression sour. "Do you know how much work--"

Oh, that's what this was about? The new nurses and interns who'd joined the crew at their last pit stop?

"They're not morons," Jim told him, amused, as hebturned back to scrolling through his PADD. "And you did have warning, Bones; you had to sign off on all of them."

"I was told that I was offering my opinion on their placement on other ships!" Bones threw his hands wide, his left hand smacking into Spock's chest unapologetically. "Not mine!"

Spock gently removed Bones's hand from his personal space, and Jim sighed. "At the time, you were," he said dryly. "But several of your nurses have resigned their commissions recently, and this mission has been turning out a lot differently than we anticipated at the start; you could always use some additional hands in surgery--"

"Like I would trust these fools with a scalpel--!"

"They aren't even fresh out of the Academy, Bones," Jim reminded him. "Every one of them has at least a year of prior experience in a hospital and performed admirably--" he looked up, eyebrows raised. "At least, according to your own assessment."

"Have they yet shown themselves to be unsatisfactory?" Spock asked, calmly cutting to the center of Bones's ranting, and Bones scowled as he buttered his toast.

"They're fine," he said, shortly. "But not a one of them is prepared for the differences between traditional hospital practices and those of a starship, Jim. On another ship--" he waved a hand. "They'd have time to ease into things. But here? On the Enterprise? They need their hands held, Jim, and Chris, Geoff, and I only have so many hands to go around."

Spock looked to be considering this point deeply, so Jim left him to it for the moment, glancing guiltily at the chronometer on the far wall of the mess and resuming the race to finish his paperwork. It's not that Bones was wrong, in Jim's opinion; it was just that they didn't have a lot of choice in the matter. The CMO and the indomitable Nurse Chapel would simply have to ride herd on the new kids until they either shaped up or washed out-- no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

"You believe they are likely to freeze the first time they're placed under pressure," Spock surmised.

Bones-- when Jim glanced up into the silence of hesitation-- pulled a face and shook his head. "All hospitals are, by definition, life or death situations; they've already proven they can handle 'pressure'," he said. "But basic xenobiology credits don't do justice to the realities of practicing your craft on biological systems you barely understand-- present company included-- with diseases no one's ever seen before and half the equipment you would have wanted. It's their imaginations I'm worried about, Mr. Spock."

"Then perhaps it is their imagination you should focus on training, Doctor."

"There are a couple security officers trying to put an improv comedy club together," Jim suggested, hiding his grin by ducking his head further towards the PADD as he dashed off another signature, and a bit of toasted crust bounced off of his temple after Bones threw it at him. "That was assault of a commanding officer, I'll have you know."

"Shove it, Jim. The grown ups are actually brainstorming solutions over here."

"Of course," Jim agreed, smoothly, and pretended that "brainstorming" was the only reason Bones had laid his hand over Spock's when Spock placed it palm up on the table.

"Sims, maybe?" Bones murmured. "I could write something up, if you'd be willing to code it. No right answers, only better ones; see what they come up with."

"It would be my pleasure, Doctor."

A beat, a shit-eating grin in his periphery, and Spock repeated, sharply-- "Doctor."

"My virgin ears and I are glad Bones kept that one telepathic," Jim said, hiding his own shit eating grin behind his cup of coffee as he took a sip, and Bones laughed.

"Not in front of the Captain, Mr. Spock, or whatever will appear on your next performance review?"

Spock sighed. "You have a singularly frustrating personality, Doctor."

"You're one to talk. You know, Jim, he uses cinnamon toothpaste?"

"Perish the thought." Jim signed another dotted line, his feeling of foreboding growing as he scrolled further and further down towards the next. Janice was going to be here in--

"Your yeoman has just walked into the mess, Captain," Spock told him.

"And she's a woman on a mission," Bones added, eith a thread of laughter lacing through his tone. "A tactical retreat may be in order, Jim boy."

Captain James Tiberius Kirk did not turn to look over his shoulder, because that would be a sign of weakness. "Buy me five minutes," he said, his tone just shy of an order. "I'll speed read."

"How are we supposed to do that?" Bones demanded, but Spock-- bless those pointed ears of his-- was already rising to his feet.

"Accompany me, Doctor," he requested.

And, with a sigh, Bones took a few quick bites of his toast and then rose to his feet, wiping his fingers on a napkin as he trailed behind Spock. Jim paused his reading only long enough to watch them intercept Janice--

What they said couldn't be heard from across the room, but Bones's right hand found the small of Spock's back, his wedding ring glinting under the light as he waved the other about enthusiastically, and his exuberance combined with Spock's quiet intensity commanded Janice's attention quite completely. By the time she'd wormed her way free, Jim was outting the last flourishing signature on the paperwork, and he handed the PADD over to her with his most charming smile.

"Thank you, Yeoman."

"No, Captain," she said, with a smile that was far too shark-like for the sweetness of her tone. "Thank you." And then-- laughing-- she was gone.

Bones looked smug, and Spock's eyes glittered with Vulcan amusement, and suddenly, Jim was feeling much less charitable towards the man's ears.

"Gentlemen," he said suspiciously. "May I ask what price I've just paid for those five minutes?"

"You know, Yeoman Rand has a lot of friends on the ship, in all kinds of departments," Bones said, as he tucked into his remaining eggs. "Including Security."

"She's a popular woman," Jim agreed, slowly.

"Ensigns Martinez and Harper will be most grateful to hear of your interest in joining their improvisational comedy group, Captain."

Jim stared at Spock. "No."

Bones smiled. "Oh, yes."

"No!"

"His idea," Bones said, jerking his thumb at Spock.

"I was under the impression you had been looking for a method of engendering further goodwill between yourself and the crew," he said, with a perfect Vulcan poker face.

"Wouldn't do to back out on a promise now, Captain," Bones told him cheerfully. "Say, they still encourage audience participation st these things, don't they?"

"A staple of the genre, Doctor."

"My," Bones said, smiling into the horror dawning across Jim's face. "I guess I'll just have to make sure I never miss a show."

Spock hummed as he returned to his own breakfast. "I believe I shall have to miss every show, for fear that you would volunteer me for a sketch."

"Well." Bones wiped his mouth on a napkin, blue eyes twinkling. "Even so, Mr. Spock. I'll see you at lunch."

Spock bid him a pleasant morning shift, and-- with a brush of their fingertips-- Bones was gone.

"You didn't really promise Janice that I'd be doing improv comedy, did you?" Jim asked, weakly. "I'll forgive you for the implication if you simply admit--"

"No, Captain, I did not." But the way he said it...

Jim closed his eyes. "Spock. Did Dr. McCoy promise it?"

"Yes, Captain, he did."

"I know you love him, Spock, but I'd like your permission to ship him back to Earth--"

"Negative."

"He'll be happy there," Jim promised. "I'll set him up on a nice farmstead in Georgia--"

"I don't believe that the life of a farmer would especially agree with me."

"I'm not planning on sending you."

Spock raised an eyebrow, and Jim sighed, relenting. "I suppose you would follow him, wouldn't you?"

"Of course, Captain."

"Of course," Jim agreed, with a ghost of a smile breaking through his glum mood. It was nice, seeing his two best friends in love--

Even when they ganged up on him.

[sunjaesol]

we’re dancing under the rain

canon compliant juke | fluff! | inspiration: rain // ben platt

Julie wondered if one day, she could stop loving. Because damn - it hurt. It hurt to love so much and continuously have her heart be broken. Love and heartache cycled through her life like a never ending train and the girl was in a constant battle of wanting to shut down or give it another chance. 

She always chose the latter, obviously, but that hurt too. The price she needed to pay to have such meaningful friendships. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have become a family with a trio of ghosts and an adjacent skater ghost. The problem of caring so much was when the heart got involved, when that heart beat a second too fast, too willingly, too adoringly. 

It made her vulnerable, her heart jumping out of her chest to sync with the other person and then getting crushed instead. This time, it cut her particulary deep. 

Nick broke up with her. 

A puffy-eyed Julie sat huddled in the studio under a blanket. He did it during lunch. All of a sudden, he pulled her aside into the hallway, told her they didn’t quite fit together and that it was better if they broke up. He pretended like she had a say in it, though it was clear he already made up his mind. Which was even worse, Julie found. Nick had thought about it before, probably more than once. His words made her feel like a fool. There she was, thinking their relationship was going smooth, getting squashed a minute after that: no, actually, it’s not going smoothly and you’re probably in denial so let’s end it now.

Later, she’d probably thank him for ripping the band-aid. She was now allowed to be heartbroken.    

Outside, rain was slamming against the pavement. That was the only good thing about the situation; the weather deciding to match her mood and mourn with her.

Luke poofed in with his signature grin, lips shaping to blurt out a story and then crashing into a frown when he saw the state she was in. 

“Jules?”

Wordlessly, she covered her tear-stained cheeks with the blanket. She hated it when people - especially Luke - caught her at her lowest. The boys were dead, she couldn't really complain about minor inconveniences when the only reason they were breathing was out of habit. 

The couch dipped at her feet. A careful hand patted her calf. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she mumbled. 

“Yes, cause that’s what I do when nothing’s wrong.” His voice was light, though a keen ear like hers could sense the hint of concern. “I cry.”

Julie huffed, pulling the blanket back to scowl at him. “Nick broke up with me. But it’s whatever because it clearly wasn’t as big of a deal to him as it was to me, so-” Shrugging, she sat upright and wiped her runny nose with the sleeve of her sweater. “It is nothing.”

Her fingers combed through her hair, trying to relieve the heat bugging her skin. God, she just wanted this day to be over with. She didn’t want to rehearse and do homework and eat dinner and pretend everything was dandy. She just wanted to cry and sleep and not have Luke’s stupidly green eyes drown in pity. 

“That sucks though,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

Her lips rolled inwards, a smile forming despite her mood. “Not your fault.” Their gazes met. It felt new, somehow. “My heart is just… too open, I guess.”

Luke tapped her calf again, mirth lilting his tone. “Still not a bad thing. It was cool in the 90s and it’s cool now. He’s an idiot for not going crazy over it.”

“My open heart?”, she chuckled. 

“Yeah.” A beat. His eyes haven’t wavered. “Or you. In general.”

The smile bloomed to a full grin, a sliver of levity easing the ache in her chest. Why did he always know what to say? Granted, he used to be horrible at cheering her up, when she was fifteen and sadness lingered in her every move, but he got the hang of it after two years. A reassuring kiss on her temple before a stressful gig, a particularly uplifting speech during band circle, a new tune he came up with when he knew she didn’t feel like talking. Her teenage girl melodrama unfazed him. 

Luke met her halfway for a tight hug. It was the most comfortable place to be; her cheek on his shoulder and his arms holding her so securely and how, after all they’ve been through, his 90s cologne smelled like home. 

“Thank you,” she mumbled. “Some ghost girl is going to be so happy you’ve had practise dealing with me.”

He snorted. “Ah, yes. My harem of ghost girls. The, uh, market is really big for me.”

It wasn’t something they often discussed. It became clear that the boys weren’t going to cross over any time soon (if crossing over was even a thing, or the thing they thought it would be) and had time to settle into a long afterlife. Willie had been wandering around since the seventies and only now found Alex, so who knew how long Luke and Reggie would have to wait until they met their ghost-mate. It was a sad thought, but at least they had each other and music and the band. 

There was also the minor problem that Luke sometimes had this look on his face, usually fixed on her, that left little to the interpretation. It hasn’t happened in a while, but every so often…

It kind of made her breathless. Whatever. It was dumb. Those feelings have long been buried. The point was that he should look at ghost girls like that - not her.   

(A month after The Orpheum, they sat side by side behind the grand piano as they belted out a new song they’ve been working on, her fingers expertly gliding across the keys and slamming on those that needed that extra power. Julie was fully entranced, head thrown back and smiling through the lyrics as their voices reached a beautiful harmony no one could compete with. The last note drifted across the studio. When she turned to look at him, she expected to see the same grin. Instead, Luke gave her such a tender look, close, and let his doe eyes wander past her nose. Had Reggie not poofed in, she didn’t know if she would’ve had the restraint to not give in. To not be selfish. It was years ago, but she thought about it each time he joined her at the piano. It was the price for friendship, Julie often reminded herself. For an eternal bond.) 

Rain kept drumming into the ground. It sounded like a million ping pong balls fell onto the roof at an incredible speed. 

Luke pulled away and shot a look outside. “Damn.”

“Yeah,” Julie nodded. “I made a deal with God today. If I cry, the world does too.”

He rolled his eyes. “Dramatic.”

The smile stuck to her cheeks. Luke only needed a few minutes to lift her spirits. Tears didn’t even well up anymore. Was that bad? That one the same day, just in the afternoon, she already felt a bit better? She decided to not mull on the why.

“Wanna dance in the rain?”

She blinked. “What?”

He matched her smile, throwing his thumb at the doors. “Do you wanna dance in the rain?”

It was as if her brain wasn’t processing his words. “What? Why?”

“Why not?”, he shrugged. “You feel like shit, it never rains in LA and it’s fun.”

Quiet excitement coursed through her veins, the thrill pushing energy back in her bloodstream. Why not? The expectant twinkle in his eye brought colour to her face, jumping off the couch pulling him up with her. His whooping got her to laugh. It almost surprised her; she hasn’t properly laughed at all today. 

They each pulled one sliding door open, their ears instantly bombarded with noise. It was the hardest downpour of the year! 

“No running for cover!”, he yelled above the loud rushing of rain.     

She stuck her pinky out. “Only if you won’t!”  

And then they stepped in the rain. They were drenched straight away, a squeal erupting from her lips as the coldness crept between her clothes. He laughed, raking his hair back and leaping into a puddle. Water splashed around him. 

His voice bellowed through the sound. “C’mon!”

It spurred her into action, his laugh replaying in her head over and over again, as her head lolled back and began to twirl in circles. Faster and faster, giggles tumbling out as felt herself becoming one with the rain. This was exactly what she needed. A moment of silliness and unconditional joy! 

Luke was dancing like a maniac next to her, feet kicking and arms outstretched. She found herself staring at his profile, how bliss broke the lines in his face and caused a crescendo of glee to overcome him. It was mesmerising. Julie found herself slowing down, taken aback by the hope rising in her chest at the mere sight of him. 

What she hoped for, she didn’t know. (She did. She just couldn’t admit it just yet.) 

As if sensing her thoughts, Luke caught her eye with and yanked her into the dance without a second of hesitation. They spun around, hands intertwined and arms outstretched, daring to see how long they could keep going before one dropped from dizziness. Julie wasn’t afraid though. Luke would never let her fall. 

They let go just as they were losing balance, snickering like fools and trying to find footing again. Julie jumped onto his back, him instantly jostling her around until she got chucked off like a sack of potatoes. Each grin and laugh and crack of thunder mended her heart, slipping the pieces back together and allowing it to bloom once more. Keep on breaking, keep on loving, keep on hoping, keep on hoping for-

Luke locked his hands around the small of her back. “Ready?!”

He didn’t have to ask twice, their steps speeding up as she threw her arms beside her and then, at their fastest, pulled one leg up to swing in his hold. How she didn’t slip on the soaking wet ground was a miracle. 

Julie’s smile rivalled his, grabbing onto the lapels of his shacket to get him closer. He had something else in mind, hands slipping to her waist and launching her in the sky in one fluid motion. It took her breath away, quickly grabbing onto his shoulders and yelling her lungs out. It was just like in her dreams. Was it selfish of her to have yearned for this? 

(She felt it. The way her heart washed away all the troubles, how the numbing cold shrivelled to make place for someone else.)   

They shouted exclaims and curses into the rain. About Nick, about music, about each other, about how fucking unfair life could be, but damn - moments like these were worth the pain.  

Her drenched curls tickled his face, causing him to sputter and attract her focus. Julie looked down at him and didn’t stop the heartstopping smile growing on her face. Oh. 

Her fingers swiped against the planes of his cheeks, his grin beaming up at her and letting the dormant wildfire (snug between her ribs, among the flowers and the lyrics) come alive again. For so long, she hasn’t allowed herself to feel it. But how could she not when Luke propelled her into the storm itself, unify them like the whirlwind of passion they authentically were? 

They were the thunder and the lightning, the silver lining and the punch line - the dancers in the rain. 

He gently set her down, feet splashing. She didn’t let him pull away, instantly wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face into his wet shirt. They smelled like wet dogs and it was better than any perfume she’s ever had. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. 

His head settled on top of hers, cool breath fanning her skin. “I can’t have you down in the gutter, Jules. Ever.”

I love you. “Ever?”

She felt him move, her eyes tilting to meet his. That expression she cherished deeply returned tenfold. His tender smile, the green hooded by shy eyes, an incredulous hitch of the breath. 

Luke nodded, flitting gaze as if he didn’t quite know what to focus on, and carefully brushed a droplet from her cheek. “Ever.” 

(Julie got a cold the next day. It didn’t matter - she had the boy of her dreams to keep her company.) 

Breathe deep, let it wash over you We're slowly becoming lovers I promise you we won't be like the others We won't go running for cover

@blush-and-books​ @bluefirewrites​ @willexx​ @unsaid-emily​ @ourstarscollided​ @sophiphi​ @unsaidjulie​

[joaquinwhorres]

The Fool (Ch. 6) {Fred Weasley x F!OC}

SUMMARY ››››› After getting tangled up with the Weasley Twins during the events of the Quidditch World Cup, Wren Collings’ life takes a turn for the chaotic. It threatens everything she has going for her, but she’s not convinced that’s entirely a bad thing.

PAIRING ››››› Fred Weasley x Female OC

WORD COUNT ››››› 4,589

WARNINGS ››››› There is no depression or mental health issues in this story, but there are mentions of death, violence, abuse, some PTSD, etc. As most of the specific warnings revolve around major plot points or are found throughout most chapters, I’m just going to rate certain chapters on the movie scale. This is chapter PG-13.

A/N ››››› General plea for validation through reblogs and comments.

Series Masterlist | Read on ff.net | Read on AO3

Wren felt sick all morning.

Ever since Fred and George had been escorted off to the Hospital Wing by Lee Jordan, she felt as if her stomach was twisting in on itself. She supposed this was a natural reaction to sending your friends to the Hospital Wing--a theory that was further solidified throughout the day as it seemed like everybody was talking about the failed attempts to enter the Tournament. Fred and George were not the only ones thwarted by the ageline, but their story was by far the most popular throughout the castle. Wren had even heard a group of ghosts gossiping about it, and several portraits had stopped her on her way to the common room to interrogate her about the incident and settle a debate as to whether their beards had gone down to their waist or their ankles.

The Common Room was not much safer in terms of avoiding talk of the Failure. Lee Jordan appeared to be holding court in the corner, recounting the story from his perspective to an enraptured audience, and even up in her room, Wren couldn't seem to get away from the terrible feeling that had made itself right at home in her core. Even her Potions' homework wasn't enough to distract her from the fact that Fred and George still hadn't made their way up to the common room yet, and it was nearing lunch.

Which was why right before noon, Wren found herself hovering outside the Hospital Wing.

It seemed to be busier than normal, which wasn't that much of a surprise, given how many names of unsuccessful entrants Wren'd heard other students throw around. She had to admit though, that she was a bit surprised at how raucous the noise was. Wren edged a bit closer to the open door, one voice rising above the others in an uncanny imitation of an old Scottish woman. "Albus, last year a known murderer and pack of Dementors roamed the school, and the year before that the heir of Slytherin opened the Chamber of Secrets. Perhaps, we could open it up to all students turning 17 this year?"

A slow measured voice responded, "Now, now, Minerva. Dementors and Basilisks are one thing, but a student died over 200 years ago from this Tournament. And even though it's now Ministry sanctioned, and we could potentially make it a tad bit safer, we must remain true to the spirit of the games, and only students who are of age can enter."

"But Albus, a student died--"

Footsteps rounded the corner, and Wren jumped back whirling on the couple who just came down the hallway.

Not a couple.

The bronze haired boy who was smirking as he said something to the girl walking beside him was Simon. He looked up from the blonde, his eyes landing on Wren who was just a step away from entering the Hospital Wing, and surprise quickly overtook his features. Still, he didn't look quite as surprised as Wendy Fairchild did, her cheeks turning a delicate pink.

"Wren?" Simon said, as if he couldn't believe that she was actually there. Then again, she could count the number of times she'd been to the Hospital Wing over the past six years on her fingers, so maybe it wasn't entirely unreasonable for him to be so shocked. Her eyes were drawn once again to Wendy, who suddenly looked very uncomfortable and very trapped. Simon stepped away from the blonde and towards Wren. "Did something happen? Are you alright?"

Her eyes shifted to the Hospital Wing's door, the noise suddenly quelled by the sound of a sharp admonishment. "I had a stomach ache, is all," Wren said, stepping further away from the door.  "Hi Wendy."

"Hi Wren," Wendy greeted, her eyes darting between the couple as the tension between the three thickened. The blonde Ravenclaw licked her lips, her eyes darting for Simon as if he'd provide a way out of the awkward situation but he was focused on Wren, the worry gone from his face, and a cool stoniness taking over in its place. A small sigh escaped Wendy. "Well, I best be going. Thank you again for the help, Simon," she offered a brief strained smile at the couple before hurrying off down the hallway.

Wren looked down at the stones between her and her boyfriend, eyes studying the grooves and dimples.

"I heard about what happened to Fred and George," Simon remarked, and Wren's stomach rolled. Words bubbled up, excuses and explanations and apologies all at the tip of her tongue as she looked up at him, but he continued. "I'm sure you see now why I didn't want you to do it."

Wren flushed and nodded her head, pushing a strand of hair back behind her ear. "Simon I--"

"It's ok, Wren," Simon cut her off, stepping forward and folding her into his arms. "I forgive you." He pulled back slightly, cupping her face in his hand. "At least you realized how foolish it'd be and pulled out."

Wren offered up a shaky smile which dissolved as Simon bent forward and kissed her, before releasing her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Maybe next time, you'll just listen to me."

The sick feeling in her gut was worse, her insides churning in protest even as she kept her lips sealed shut, keeping her confession trapped inside. Simon looked down at her, seeming to note her silence.

He sighed, withdrawing his arm from around her. "You might as well just ask, I know what you're wondering."

Wren's brow furrowed in confusion as she cast him a look. "What I'm wondering?"

"Wren, I'm not stupid. I saw the look you gave me with Wendy, and I see the look you're giving me now. You're easy to read."

Realization dawned on Wren at what he was implying, and she quickly stumbled over her words. "Simon, I--"

"She needed help with her Alchemy work, and that's it. Nothing happened."

"I know--" Wren started again, but Simon cut her off.

"I made one mistake," Simon said. "One. And you and I both know that you're just as responsible for it happening as I am."

Wren looked to the ground, nodding her head. "I know. I…" she trailed off. "You're right. I shouldn't have even wondered. I'm sorry."

Simon sighed, his arm going around her shoulders once more. "I forgive you, I just wish you'd believe me that I love you."

"I do," Wren said, looking up into his face. "I know you love me."

He nodded solemnly. "More than anyone else ever could," he said before pressing his lips to hers and whisking her away to lunch.

Wren spent most of her lunch picking at her food and absentmindedly listening to Alicia's ranting about her parents and their post-Hogwarts desires for her and to Katie's wondering about whether everything Professor Moody did was strictly legal.

If the other girls noticed that Wren hadn't really touched her food or seemed to be preoccupied, they didn't say anything. It's possible a look was shared, but she didn't catch it.

Instead, she sat there distracted until she noticed her dorm mates getting up from the table, and she did the same, leaving behind a half full plate to follow them up to the common room.

There, she lost four games of Exploding Snap in a row, and was in the middle of losing a fifth when Fred and George burst through the portrait hole, announcing their arrival with a chorus of "Heyyyyy".

Wren's head snapped to them, watching as the twins modeled their newly clean-shaven faces, stroking the smooth skin of their chins to a smattering of applause and laughter.

Fred scanned the common room, his eyes locking on hers once he found her. He navigated his way around the couches and chairs to her. "There she is…" Fred said as he approached, and she flinched. Alicia tapped the stack of cards and looked entirely unapologetic as Wren glared at her.

"Cheater."

"Hardly," the other girl returned, twirling her wand between her fingers.

Fred plopped himself next to Wren as George sat next to Alicia, throwing himself into her lap. She shoved him off, and with a dramatic sigh, he switched to laying in Angelina's.

"About time you're back," Angelina said, tugging at George's ear. He winced, swatting her hand away. "How long does it take to fix a couple of beards anyway?"

"Longer when Dumbledore interrogates us for the secrets of our near success," Fred said, catching Wren's startled glance. "Don't worry--we told him we couldn't divulge any information."

"He seemed to understand but mentioned he'd be much obliged if the recipe  should ever end up under his office door," George said with a grin at Wren.

She flushed, shaking her head. "It didn't even work. I mean you two could have ended up--"

"Maybe it didn't work, Fred cut her off. But no one else even made it through the age line. We're the only ones to have crossed it."

"It was a good bit of magic, Wren," George agreed.

"But it just as easily could have landed you in the Hospital Wing for more than a few hours," Wren argued, and the group exchanged looks.

"I thought we'd been over this," George said, sitting himself up. "It was a minor risk, yeah, but we've taken bigger risks with our own testing."

"Besides, I doubt Dumbledore would have put any enchantment on the Goblet that could harm students if the whole point was to keep underage witches and wizards from entering," Angelina reasoned.

Wren wet her lips, turning this over in her mind. She still couldn't help but feel guilty for her failure, but what made her feel even worse was not the fact that she could have hurt Fred and George, but that she was disappointed her potion hadn't succeeded.

"Come on," Fred said, nudging her shoulder with his own. "You've got to admit, it was at least a bit thrilling to give it a go."

The corner of her lips traitorously twitched up. Around her, her friends made sounds of approval, George even reaching forward to shake her leg excitedly.

"He really came to ask you about the potion?" Wren asked, and Fred nodded solemnly.

"Seemed genuinely interested too," George added.

Wren offered a real smile then, and the group seemed to (accurately) take that as an end to the  conversation.

The rest of the afternoon passed happily. George finally ended Alicia's streak in Exploding Snap and Lee came into the Common Room about an hour later and recounted recent would-be entrants' failures for them. Now that Wren wasn't wracked with worry and guilt with Fred and George, she was able to laugh along with the rest of the group, especially over Lee's dramatic impersonation of Milicent Bulstrode breaking down into hysterics over her newfound beard.

By the time it was dinner, the events of the morning felt like they had passed weeks ago, and Wren traipsed down to the Great Hall with the group more than ready for the Halloween feast.

She wasn't, however, ready for the selection of Champions. Her heart stilled for a moment as Cedric's name was pulled from the cup, her eyes skipping over the group of Hufflepuffs shaking his shoulders and cheering, and instead focusing on Nora.

If Wren were in Nora's shoes, she'd be pale. But instead her cousin was alternating between clapping loudly and cupping her hands around her mouth to cheer.

She was only silenced when a fourth name came out of the cup.

In fact, the whole Great Hall went quiet for a beat. And then another one. And then the whispers started, moving through the room like wind rustling through the trees.

"Harry got his name in?" Angelina hissed next to Wren.

"How?" Katie whispered back, her eyes moving to Wren, but Wren was already focused on Harry, whipping his head around with surprise and saying something hushed and quick to his friends. Dumbledore called him up to the front table and her eyes followed his path, a clawing tightness in her chest as she watched him pass behind Fred.

How had he, a fourth year who by all accounts was not the smartest in his year, managed to get across the age line when the combined minds of her, Fred, George, and Lee hadn't managed it?

Her jaw clenched as a hand closed over hers. "Hey," George said, leaning across Angelina to get her attention. "If You-Know-Who wasn't able to kill him as a baby, you won't be able to now, even with that look."

The joke, coupled with Harry's disappearance into the chamber behind the professors' table, drew the small group's attention to Wren.

"I'm not trying to kill him," Wren protested as Dumbledore and other adults disappeared into the back room as well. With the disappearance of those in charge, the hall grew noisy once more, the chatter electric. "I just don't understand how he got in is all."

The look of mild annoyance on Fred's face melted as he took her in. "She's jealous!"

"Am not," Wren huffed.

"Come on, Wren, a win for Harry is a win for Gryffindor," Angelina said, but her smile was a bit tight, and Wren felt a bit embarrassed at being jealous when Angelina, who had legitimately entered, hadn't been chosen.

"And more than that," Fred said, bending his head forward conspiratorially. "It's a reason to party."

By the time Harry Potter, the guest of honor and very reason for the party, arrived at the Gryffindor common room, the party was in full swing. Students had come together to lay out a solid stash of snacks on a few tables, and Fred and George had procured a few cases of Butterbeer in a suspicious amount of time. This of course meant that everyone was almost vibrating with excitement to greet Harry. Indeed, all of Wren's friends left her the moment he came through the portrait hole to bombard him with well wishes and questions.

Wren, for her part, hung back with Alicia, making her way through a bag of crisps while staring warily at Harry. "Reckon he'll tell anyone how he did it?" Wren asked as Alicia took a long sip from her butterbeer.

"Harry?" Alicia asked, her voice a bit raw from the carbonation. "Probably not. He's rather tight-lipped. It'd be easier to get it out of Ron."

Wren nodded, scanning the room for the twins' younger brother. As her gaze skipped from redhead to redhead, none of them belonged to Harry's best friend. "Where is Ron?"

"This is really bothering you, huh," Alicia asked, her expression sympathetic. "I know you wanted it to work, but honestly Wren, it was always a long shot. The twins knew that."

Wren had no intention of trying to get Ron Weasley to tell her how Harry entered, but she would have been lying if she dismissed Alicia's claim outright.

She had known it'd been a long shot too. She always had a healthy dose of skepticism throughout the endeavor.

But she couldn't get rid of the small, irritating feeling of disappointment that scratched at the back of her mind.

She doubted Dumbledore would want her potion recipe now that someone had had an actually successful workaround.

"Why the long face?" Fred asked, walking back up with George. Over their shoulders, Wren could see Lee tying the Gryffindor banner around Harry's shoulders.

The two followed her gaze and Fred snorted. "Still on about that, then?"

"No," Wren said petulantly. The twins exchanged a knowing look, and she scowled, swatting at them. "I'm not!"

Fred's eyes darted over her shoulder, and she whipped around to catch Alicia mid-nod before pretending she was sipping from her drink.

"I'm not!"

Fred and George exchanged another look, although this one seemed to be more of a conversation between two pairs of eyebrows than just a look.

"Alicia, we're stealing Wren," Fred announced, wrapping an arm around Wren's shoulders and guiding her forward before Alicia could even respond to the statement. George trailed after the two of them, the group stopping in a relatively quiet nook of the common room, away from the thick of the party.

"It has recently come to our attention that you, Wren Collings, are a natural born inventor."

Wren quirked an eyebrow, staring dubiously back at Fred. "What?"

"You're upset that you didn't find the solution to the age line and Harry did," George filled in.

"Plus, you greatly enjoyed the plotting involved in making our potion," Fred nodded.

"So we were talking…" George started

"And we think you'd be an excellent addition to the Weasley Wizard Wheezes product development team," Fred finished with a smile.

"The what?"

"Fred and I have always dreamed of opening a joke shop. We've been working on a few products over the summer," George explained.

"Fake wands."

"Tom-tongue toffees."

"Trick quills."

"And we think that your mind and potions and Herbology expertise would help us with our next  venture," Fred said.

"Your next venture?" Wren repeated.

"Puking pastilles," the twins chorused with a nod.

"Puking pastilles." What they were proposing was so ridiculous, Wren wasn't able to come up with a coherent original thought. Instead she was turning the idea over in her mind--product development with the Weasley twins. It was true she'd enjoyed developing the aging potion with them, but that had been a one time thing. A deal. And even then it hadn't worked. Now they wanted her to come up with entirely original recipes for members of the public to eventually consume? She could poison all of London. Or worse, she could--

"You're spiraling," Fred said matter of factly. "I can see it right here," he said, poking at the crease between her eyebrows, and Wren slapped his hand away. He grinned at her. "Come on Wren, this is an exciting new venture. Nothing to get too in your head about at this stage."

"I just don't think I--"

"If this is going to be another self-deprecating statement, I should warn you. You're wasting your breath," George interrupted, holding up a hand.

"We happen to think you are nothing short of a genius, and there isn't anything you can say to convince us otherwise," Fred added.

Wren blinked at them. "I--" they cast her reproachful looks and she switched directions. "Thank you."

Fred smiled. "I'm going to take that as confirmation that you're in."

Wren shook her head, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. It would be easy to tell them no. To stick to the plan of just studying for her classes and spending free moments trying to track down Simon. But she didn't want to.

"Yeah," Wren said with a tentative smile. "I'm in."

While working with Fred and George on the creation of puking pastilles was fun and often led to Wren laughing so hard her sides hurt, it was still, at its core, work . She was fairly certain she had never used her brain so much. Not even for NEWT-level Potions or Transfiguration.

Still, there were far worse uses of her time than being tucked away in the common room or a corner of the library, drawing up plans and theories with Fred and George and sometimes Lee.

"I need a break," Wren announced, placing her book on top of the stack they had pulled.

"Breaks are for the faint of heart," George said automatically, not even bothering to look up from his reading. It had been the line the three used to keep each other on track.

"I fear I'm going into heart failure," Wren answered, dramatically, dropping in her chair. "If I have to read another line about common Italian plants' side effects, I think my heart will finally give out."

"Alright Georgie, I think a break's in order. We don't want poor Wren's heart to explode," Fred said, snapping his book shut.

"So when Wren's going through heart failure, we get a break, but when I'm dying of boredom, you just eulogize me."

"That's about the size of things," Fred nodded, and George grinned, shutting his book and looking over at the two. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he had the chance, a look of curious confusion crossed his face.

"Hullo," he greeted, and Wren turned to see Simon walking towards the group.

"Hi, love," Wren smiled up at Simon. His bronze hair curled above his eyes, and she reached out a hand for him. He shot a quick look at her and then at the Weasley twins, keeping his hands firmly in his pockets. Wren curled her hand back in, resting it on her shoulder as if that was what she intended to do. "What are you doing here?"

"Searching for my girlfriend," Simon offered a small smile. "Have you seen her?

"Simon," Wren laughed lightly as Fred and George exchanged mortified looks at the excuse of a joke.

"Oh! I hardly recognized you. Haven't seen you in ages."

"Ha ha, very funny," Wren smiled and let out an exhale as if he was joking, but he had that look in his eyes that she knew too well. He turned to Fred and George.

"So you're the reason my girlfriend's gone missing."

"What can I say, our presence is a delight." It wasn't the tone of Fred's voice as much as the look of George's face that made her stomach drop.

"Thank you for sharing Wren with us," George stepped in. "Must be hard to let this one go."

"Indeed," he swiveled to Wren. "Speaking of which, have a second?" Simon asked, flashing a seemingly charming smile. Wren looked up at him, and a flash of fear, which she hoped was unnoticeable, crossed her face. She slowly nodded.

"For you? Always," she said, standing up to follow him. Had he heard about George? What did he want? She had heard that tone of voice before, and it never ended well. She followed him a couple of rows over so that it was deserted and nobody would hear them.

"I didn't realize you three were so close," he commented, his voice still friendly, but in the dangerous phase. If Wren thought that her research was going to give her heart failure, she was certain that this conversation might give her a heart attack. It pounded away in her chest, as she racked her brain for an explanation. She had a feeling after Simon's reaction to the aging potion that he wouldn't particularly care for the truth.

"We're not that close," Wren dismissed. "We've just been studying together this year, is all. They're a whiz at Charms, and honestly this NEWT schedule is keeping me so busy--"

"Wren," Simon stopped her. "Don't insult my intelligence."

"What?"

"You're lying. I can see it all over you. What are you really up to with them?"

"What am I really up to?" Wren repeated, her heart beating faster. "Studying. Simon, where is this coming from? Why are you upset?"

"Why am I upset?" Simon asked. "After how you acted when you saw me walking down the hall with Wendy? I should have seen that you were projecting--accusing me of cheating while you're off spending your  afternoon in a dark corner of the library with the Weasley twins!"

"Simon, it's not like that. You've just been busy and I—" Wren started to argue, jerking away and shutting her mouth quickly as Simon shoved a finger in her face.

"Do not turn this into my fault."

"It's nobody's fault. There's nothing wrong here!" Wren began to grow hysterical. "You're reading into things that aren't there."

"So I'm crazy?" He dropped his hand, but moved closer to her, and she took a half step back.

"No, of course not," Wren held her temples "I just--there's no reason to be upset. I would never choose them over you. I-I'll go tell them I have to go. We can go to the courtyard, or wherever you want. "

"Don't even bother. I don't want to be your pity pick. Just go back to them," Simon scoffed, shaking his head. "At this point, I'm used to being left behind. Makes sense you'd do it too."

"Simon, I'll come with you. Just let me get my stuff. Please--" Wren reached forward grabbing his arm, and he snatched it away from her, sending her toppling into a bookshelf. A few books came loose, tumbling to the floor in a messy pile.

"You always do this," Simon's lip curled. "Make a mess of everything. I wonder if your precious twins will put up with half the things I do." Wren watched him leave, trying to blink back the tears forming in her eyes. He was right. She did always make a mess of things. She knew what she should have done--what she should have said. She should have packed up as soon as he came over. She should have told the twins she'd see them in class and told him she had more than a second--she had hours for him. She shouldn't have argued.

Wren wiped away a few tears as she bent down to begin picking up the books and finding their proper places. Footsteps approached the end of the aisle, and her head snapped, hoping Simon had come back.

"Everything ok?" Fred asked, standing at the end of the aisle where Simon had been moments before. Wren quickly glanced back at the book she was shoving into the shelf, as if that would hide her splotchy red face.

"Fine," her voice came out high and not quite as lighthearted as she'd hoped.

"And that's why you've decided to take up a part time job as a librarian?"

She let out a sigh that could maybe possibly be construed as a laugh. "No, I just--um--we stumbled into the books." She hoped that would explain the red face if not for Simon's conspicuous absence.

"Ah," Fred nodded, and she could hear the disbelief in his voice. "And where is the other half then?"

“He…he had to run off. Prefect duties. I told him I'd handle it.”

Fred's eyes rested on her, as she picked up another book and shoved it between two other ones, not able to even concentrate on making sure they were in alphabetical order. She couldn't understand why Fred had taken it upon himself to interrogate her. He was silent even as she picked up another book, as if for once he were carefully choosing his words.

"Must've run off pretty quick. I came as soon as I heard the books."

It was Wren's turn to furrow her brow at him. "Why?"

“What happened here?” George appeared over Fred's shoulder, stopping him from continuing the sentence.

“Simon couldn’t keep his hands off Wren,” Fred said to George. Wren flushed from the choice of words.

George wiggled his eyebrows at Wren. “Kinky.”

She turned redder if possible and Fred’s jaw ticked.

“Need a hand?”

Despite the fact that George asked the question, Wren looked at Fred. “That would be lovely.”

George moved around Fred and picked up the last few books, sliding them onto the shelf.

“Thanks, George,” Wren smiled. He reached over and squeezed her hand. His brow furrowed slightly. Wren looked over his shoulder at Fred who caught her eye before turning and heading back towards their seats. She looked back at George and offered a tight smile, standing up. "Let's go back to take our break."

[sapphosclown]

Kiss Him You Fool - Willex Oneshot

aka willie and flynn are best friends and she’s done with this mutual pining bullshit. (boys are alive bc i didn’t feel like thinking about ghost logistics today lmao)

so i didn’t get to participate in willex week nearly as much as i wanted to so this is my song fic/au fic (i guess? since the guys are alive? idk) for free day since i didn’t get the idea till last night at 1am. anyways i also didn’t sign up for the gift exchange but i still wanna dedicate this fic to @fairygclds for hosting this week bc she did an amazing job and i love her v much, ty mari <3

title is from Kiss Her You Fool by Kids That Fly, cute song highly recommend

rbs and comments appreciated :)

———

———

That was real right? He didn’t make that up in his head? That happened. Right?

Willie was abruptly knocked out of their thoughts as his board hit a crack in the sidewalk, sending him onto the pavement, scraping his knee. Although, the stinging did help them snap out of the daze he was in, making him realize that yes, this is real life, and yes, he and Alex Mercer almost kissed.

***

“Stop, you’re not allowed to be that good at everything.” Willie teased as Alex just barely completed a loop around him.

“I feel like we are experiencing different timelines here or something.” Alex let out a shaky laugh as he flailed his arms in an attempt to regain the balance he’d just lost. Luckily, Willie held out their arm for him to grab just in time.

“Come on, you’re doing great! Just need to have a little more faith in yourself.” Willie smiled gently, offering extra support with his free hand.

Alex scoffed. “I think I’m a roller skating kind of guy.”

“Well, I disagree but if that’s how you feel—”

Alex rolled his eyes, making Willies stomach flutter. He helped him off the skateboard and they sat down on the couch in the studio. Willie ignored the fact that despite having the entire couch to themselves, they sat right up against each other, and he especially ignored the way their knees touching made his heart beat faster than normal.

“Actually, I think solid ground is where it’s at.” Alex said, only half-joking.

“I guess, but the wheels add some spice that solid ground could never live up to.”

“Exactly. You know exactly what you’re getting with solid ground. Me and wheels have a complicated relationship.”

“Oh really? You guys have a falling out?” Willie teased.

“Ha, yeah. There was some falling.” Alex gave a sarcastic laugh.

“But that’s the fun part! You can get some pretty rad scars from skating.” Willie pointed out.

“‘Rad?’ What, are you from the 80’s?”

“Listen—” Willie shushed him, shoving his shoulder into him playfully.

They laughed for a moment before falling into a comfortable silence. Willie was really tempted to lay his head onto Alex’s shoulder, or hold his hand.

His hand was right there. It would be so easy... But instead he grabbed their own hand and started messing with their fingers.

“So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?” He asked lamely.

“We’re rehearsing for our gig tomorrow night. Luke and Julie are going over the set list one last time right now but we should be starting pretty soon.” Alex replied, checking the time on his phone before looking back at Willie. “Actually, if you wanna hangout while we rehearse, I don’t think they’d mind.”

“Oh, yeah! That sounds great!” Willie smiled.

“Cool.” Alex nodded, and maybe he was seeing things, but Willie could’ve sworn his cheeks were turning pink. That made him giggle.

“So, what’s the set list then?” They asked curiously. He shifted his body so that he could look at Alex, only mildly upset about the loss of contact, but being able to see the faded pink in Alex’s cheeks made up for it.

“Well, usually we start with Edge of Great, but Julie and Luke wrote this new song that is perfect to open with and I just know everyone’s gonna love it—”

Willie stared at Alex as he rambled on about the show and they couldn’t help the soft smile on their lips. Alex noticed almost immediately and stopped talking, almost embarrassed.

“What?” He asked.

“No, it’s nothing.” Willie said, waving his hand for them to move past it.

“No, I feel like you’re judging me!” Alex giggled.

“No! I’m not judging you!” Willie reassured. “You’re just really cute when you talk about music.” He said softly.

Alex went bright red. “Oh.” He replied in the same tone.

The air around them went quiet again, but this time filled with a different feeling. The feeling that there was nothing else in the world but the two of them. And suddenly their faces were a lot closer than Willie had realized. His eyes flicked down to Alex’s lips subconsciously and then back to his eyes, which he found were doing the same thing. There was nothing stopping him, all he had to do was lean in just a little bit more...

“WHO’S READY TO MAKE SOME MUSIC!” Reggie called excitedly as he entered the garage, making Willie and Alex jump apart. Reggie eyed them suspiciously. “Oh, hey Willie.” He said, eyebrows pulled together like he was piecing together what just happened.

“Hey.” Willie breathed uncomfortably. He felt like he couldn’t get enough air.

“Are you gonna hangout for rehearsal?” Reggie asked.

“Actually, uh, I gotta get going.” Willie sputtered before his brain could catch up to his mouth. They stood up and grabbed their things messily.

“I thought you said—”

“I just remembered I have to do something.” Willie cut Alex off. “I’ll see you tomorrow though?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Alex said quietly, failing at hiding his disappointment and making Willies chest ache.

“Cool.” Willie said. “See ya.” He threw an awkward peace sign at Reggie (who gave him one back) and skated out of the garage as fast as he possibly could.

***

“You are a disaster.” Flynn scolded, grabbing a dinosaur band-aid out of her desk drawer.

“I know!” Willie yelled into her pillow. She plopped down onto the bed in front of him.

“Why didn’t you just kiss him! You had the opportunity and he clearly wanted to kiss you too!” She yelled.

“I don’t know!” Willie whined, throwing the pillow back down into his lap. “I wanted to but I froze! And then Reggie showed up and I couldn’t stay after that! What if he didn’t want that to happen, what if he hates me now!”

“He doesn’t hate you! He’s very clearly in love with you, I don’t know what you’re not understanding about this.” She peeled the paper off the band-aid and carefully stuck it to Willies knee.

“You don’t know that.” He huffed.

“Who do you think you’re talking to? He likes you. When have I ever been wrong?”

They hated to admit it, but there have been very few times Flynn has been wrong.

“Fine. But what am I supposed to do?”

“Go back there? Ask him on a date or kiss him or just literally do anything.”

“I can’t go back! He’s rehearsing! I don’t wanna barge in while they’re rehearsing. And I left so fast it’d be so awkward—”

“Stop making excuses!” Flynn shook their shoulders, as they pouted. “Call him and say you forgot something.”

“I didn’t forget anything.” He said plainly. Flynn shot him a look.

“Duh! I know that, but if you tell him you’re coming back to get something then you can’t chicken out.” She explained, exasperated.

“Oh! Well what should I say I forgot?”

“Your phone, that's a reasonable thing you’d need to get back.”

“Okay. Okokok.” Willie mumbled to themself pulling out his phone and scrolling through his contacts before Flynn snatched it from them.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling him like you said!”

“Use my phone dummy! If you call him from your phone he’ll know you didn’t leave it there!” She opened her phone and before Willie realized what was happening, the phone was ringing on speaker.

“Hello?” Alex’s voice cracked through the phone.

Flynn looked at Willie and then back to the phone when he just sat there mouth agape.

“Um, hi. It’s Willie, not Flynn, I, um, left my phone in the studio and I’m on my way back to grab it.” They stuttered, hitting his head at his awkwardness.

“Oh alright. See you soon, then.”

“Yup. See ya.” Willie threw his head in his hands, their face turning bright red. Flynn ended the call and leaned against her wall with their arms crossed.

“You really are a disaster huh.” She teased.

Willie threw his pillow at them playfully and jumped off the bed. “I hate you.” He laughed.

“Love you too.” She grinned slyly. “Now, go tell your boyfriend he’s cool and you wanna kiss him!”

Willie groaned as he grabbed his things as Flynn shooed him out of her room.

***

“He’s coming back.” Alex said quickly. His friends shared the same look as they all “ooooooo”d at him.

“Guys stop! What do I do!” He cried.

“Man calm down, it’s alright.” Reggie consoled him.

“Why’re they coming back?” Julie asked turning her keyboard off so she can lean on the keys.

“Said they forgot their phone.” Alex replied.

“Mhm, right. Sure he did.” Luke teased. If he were closer Alex would’ve shoved him but he felt like he was glued to his seat.

“What do I do?” Alex asked again.

“I mean, we can keep rehearsing till he gets here if that’ll take your mind off of it?” Julie suggested.

God bless Julie. Alex nodded.

“I don’t know, it seems like he and Willie have some unfinished business.” Reggie winked.

“No! Nothing was happening! Nothing happened, it’s nothing. He just needs his phone back.” Alex tried to ignore his friends snickering but his mind flashed back to Willie on the couch in front of him. He really thought Willie had wanted to kiss him, but if how he left says anything, Alex must’ve misread the situation. They probably hated him.

“Dude, I can practically hear your thoughts and I promise you, he likes you.” Reggie assured him.

“You can’t know that for sure.” Alex mumbled, watching his drumstick twirl through his fingers.

“Maybe not but, we’ve all noticed how they look at you.” Luke cut in.

“It’s not exactly a secret.” Julie said sweetly.

“I just... I care about them a lot and what if you’re wrong and that’s just how he acts with his friends—”

“No, dude, we’re not letting you talk yourself out of this one.” Luke laughed.

“Seriously, Alex, you should go for it!” Reggie said encouragingly, walking around his drums to clap his shoulder.

Alex thought about it, he really did. He really thought for a second that he could do it, he could just lean forward and kiss him and they’d live happily ever after. But he over thought it, as usual.

“I don’t know. Maybe someday.” He shrugged.

“You can’t just wait for someday! You gotta go after what you want!” Luke exclaimed. Julie nodded.

Alex smiled at his friends. He appreciated their support but he couldn’t help but be afraid. Deep down, he knew they were right. He knew if Reggie had been just a minute later... But he still didn’t want to get his hopes up too high. Because there’s always that what if that won’t leave him alone.

There was a gentle knock on the garage doors as Willie stepped into view, he was hugging his arms and had a soft smile on his face. They carefully waved at everyone before he made eye contact with Alex, and suddenly it felt just like they were on the couch again. Just the two of them.

You know what. Maybe it’s time for someday.

Alex stood up from his drums and walked over to Willie, trying to act nonchalant. He heard Julie clear her throat to get the other two to stop staring at them and at least pretend to do something else.

“Hey.” Alex breathed.

“Hey.” Willie replied. “Can I actually see you, out here?” He asked shyly, nodding his head out side.

Alex nodded and followed Willie out of view of his band mates.

“Sorry, I probably should’ve looked for your phone before you got here but—” before Alex could finish his sentence Willie had cupped Alex’s face and pulled him into a kiss.

Alex felt like his heart had just exploded and he wasn’t completely sure if he was real anymore, but then he felt his hand rest on Willies cheek and he could confirm that yes, this was happening.

It didn’t last longer than a few seconds before Willie pulled away again. Their eyes searched Alex’s face for any sign of his emotion but Alex had completely stopped functioning and didn’t quite know what to do until he felt Willies grip on his face loosen.

“I’m sorry—” He tried to retract his hands but Alex held them in place, and he couldn’t help but laugh. He saw Willie’s worry fade and Alex pulled him back into a kiss. This one much softer, less rushed. No longer a question, but an answer.

They pulled apart and Alex noticed Willie shrinking down a bit and smiled to himself.

“Do you have to stand on your tiptoes to kiss me?” He asked cheekily.

Willie raised his eyebrows. “That’s the question you have right now?”

Alex nodded, his smile unmoving.

“I’m glad you have your priorities set.” Willie laughed.

“Definitely.” Alex whispered. “Priority number one, make you stand on your tiptoes to kiss me again.”

“You’re mean.” Willie pouted. Alex laughed and Willie gave him a playful shove before Alex pulled him back onto his tiptoes.

“It’s about time.” Reggie whispered as he Luke and Julie peeked around the door and watched their friend.

“Luke,” He stood up straight and held out his hand.

Luke groaned and fished for his wallet in his pockets, handing him a $20 bill.

“Thank you.” Reggie said smugly, pocketing the cash.

Julie laughed and shook her head at her friends and they all made their way back to their respective instruments. Julie pulled out her phone.

Flynn: did he do it??

Julie: yup. reggie’s $20 richer

Flynn: about time!! took those fools long enough, geez

Julie: really tho

Alex walked back into the studio a blushing smiley mess and sat at his drums again, not saying a word despite his friends staring at him expectantly.

He scanned their faces from his seat behind his drums.

“From the top?”

———

———

a/n: let it be known that reggie used that $20 to buy a fish and he named it Gil and he is the best fish dad ever

[atinyarmyzen]

𝒸𝒶𝓃’𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝓂𝑒?

𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚 𝐱 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: brief mention of injury, some swearing

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: period setting, angst, fluff, you are the only child of a noble family who is an aspiring writer (much to your mother’s distaste), and one day to run into an old friend. 

𝐚/𝐧: this took way too long to write so sorry if you’ve been waiting a while, this idea popped into my head and I started writing it like a month ago on and off. I hope you enjoy this v fluffy dramatic ghost au!

You don’t know him, but he knows you. Yuta had been a lingering spirit in this house for over a century, and he has grown quite fond of you over the years. He used to be your “friend” when you were little, but you had long since forgotten him. It broke his heart, but he still loved watching you while you wandered around the huge manor, he loved your singing and watching you read by the window. He had grown content with the arrangement, him admiring you and you never noticing, until one day- you do.

Your family had lived in the house for a couple generations, though the huge manor has been there for hundreds of years before you. Your mother and father were nobles who owned a sizable chateau in the countryside. You were expected to be a debutant and were to be married off to some other noble. It felt more like being sold in your eyes, and you wanted no part of it. Rather than going to parties and balls you preferred to read your books and run around barefoot in the huge meadows. It was lonely considering you were the only child, but you didn’t mind. You preferred the people in your books, and would often visit places all around the world through the stories you read.

Yuta had been the spirit of the house for as long as he could remember. He could barely recall his mortal life, and his life as a spirit felt like eternity even though he had only been dead 100 years. He knew you since you were quite small, and you knew him. You were the only person that had ever actually seen him, and your sweet friendly soul made him feel like wasn’t alone - trapped on the other side of existence. You would often run down the long hallways together, laughing and giggling the whole way. To your parents, it just looked like you running around alone, and they often just passed it off as you being having a wild imagination.

Those were the best days of Yuta’s existence, but it was not to last. As you grew older, your “imagination” began to fade away. One day, Yuta found you where you normally were, in the library by your favorite window. He smiled as he snuck up on you, prepared to playfully spook you like he always would. Except when he jumped out in front of you, you didn’t move a muscle. You kept your eyes trained on the book as if you heard nothing.

“Y/N?” he questioned. Nothing.

He kneeled down in front of you, his big doe eyes looking up into your face as your eyes continued darting across the page. “Y/N?, what’s wrong?” he asked again, thinking you were just giving him the cold shoulder. “Have I done something wrong?” he pleaded, his brows knitted in concern. Yuta reached out his hand and cupped your face, he noticed the sun rays seeping through his ghostly form as he touched your soft cheek. Instead of meeting his eyes, you simply shivered and pulled the window shut as if there was a draft. Yuta drew his hand back, can’t you see him?

He heard your mother call you from the other room, your head immediately perked up in response. “Coming mother!” you announced as you closed your book and got up to leave. Yuta watched in horror as you walked right through him out of the room, his eyes pricked with tears as he watched his best friend leave. His heart shattered, he had never loved anyone so much and it seemed like you had all but forgotten him.

Years past and you grew into a young adult. You attended school, went to parties - or rather forced to go by your parents, and talked to what seemed like hundreds of bumbling idiots who just wanted to marry you for you family fortune. The only solace you found was in your library where you could escape to far off places in books, or running around with your small dog in the fields. Yuta had no choice but to watch you grow, and soon his fondness for the small child he knew grew into love for the beautiful angel that graced the halls of the estate. He had become content with his situation- as long as he got to admire you from afar, it did not matter if you could not see him.

Until one day.

You had become absolutely fed up with your parents incessant need to marry you off. Dinner, like always, turned into a debate over your free will.

“I’d rather chew glass than marry that fool.” you spat as you pushed the food around your plate.

“Y/n, stop being so ridiculous. Don’t pretend you never expected this time to come.” Your mother retorts.

“I’m sorry darling, but we have already discussed the arrangement with his family,  you can’t pull out now.” Your father added.

“I wish his dad pulled out but here we are.” You quipped under your breath.

Your father choked on his food and tried his best to stifle his laugh at your little joke. Your mother was less than pleased and scowled at you from across the table.

She shot daggers at your father. “I blame you for her mouth.”

“Would it really be that horrible if I didn’t marry? My literature instructor says I have a talent in writing and that I should consider publishing my stories. I could be so much more than somebody’s prize.” You said with an almost pleading tone.

“I won’t have my daughter becoming some kind of spinster lady. Can’t you see what’s best for your family?” Your mother said, sounding deflated. Your father kept his gaze down.

“I think “what’s best for me” are the words you’re looking for.” you seethed before you loudly pushed your chair back and sped out of the room.

You were too upset to even think about where you were going so your instincts took you right to the library where you sat on your seat by the tall glass window in a huff. All of it, the anger, frustration, sadness began to come to a boiling point. It felt like an elephant was sitting on your chest. Tears pricked your eyes and despite your best efforts they began to fall.

Yuta had heard the whole exchange at dinner, and watched from the corner of the room as your body heaved in sobs. It felt like someone was shoving a spike through his heart- he knew you. He knew you better than anyone, they way you prefer animals to people, your favorite books that you read through so many times the pages have worn, the way your eyes light up when you find inspiration for your stories. He knew what your dreams were- and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

He felt helpless, he decided he would do his best to comfort you even if you couldn’t see him, maybe you could feel him. Just as he started towards you he knocked over a stack of books. He cringes at the sudden noise which instantly made you jump and whirl around.

“Hello?” you said, startled.

Yuta dashed behind a bookshelf, although he mentally kicked himself for it because you couldn’t see him anyway. You got up and cautiously stepped forward.

“Mother?” you called. There was no way the wind knocked that huge pile over.

You felt the hair on your arms and neck stand up. You realized that you were supposedly alone, but the sickly chilling feeling in your gut said otherwise. Despite your every nerve screaming at you to get the hell out of the room you moved closer to the corner where the noise came from. You were stopped dead in your tracks when you heard a faint shuffling behind the tall book shelf. You gulped and peeked into the shadows.

You didn’t know what you were expecting, but you thought it was going to be something that would haunt you forever. Instead, you found nothing but what looked like a young man sitting on the floor with his hands covering his eyes. He looked just as scared as you were. He hadn’t noticed you yet, and you studied his appearance a little closer. His form was shifty, as if he was not solid, he looked though he was dressed from a hundred years ago. He had long, sliver tresses that reached down the nape of his neck and brushed his forehead. He had delicate features and full, pink lips. You smiled at the boy, there was something so sincere and endearing about him.

You decided to clear your throat to announce yourself, “Ahem”.

The boy gasped and ripped his hands away from his face. He looked up at you with huge, sparkly dark eyes and you were sure you could see your reflection in. Something about his eyes struck you- they were oddly familiar. You stared at each other for a while before he snapped out of his trance and quickly stood up. You were taken aback at how you were suddenly looking up at him, he looked to be about your age.

“You can see me?” He finally spoke.

“Of course I can.” You replied as if you see him everyday.

“Do you remember me?” Yuta said quietly.

“Remember you? I’ve only just met you.” You stared at him quizzically

Yuta’s heart sank, he thought maybe after seeing him for the first time in years you would recognize him. Still, he was thrilled you could see him at all.

“Are you afraid?” the boy asked.

“Should I be?” you retorted.

He chuckled. “No, not of me at least.” He grinned.

This was the second time he made your heart do flips in the span of 30 seconds. His smile was enchanting. It made you feel safe, warm, and again- he seemed oh so familiar. You felt like you could trust him with your life, and you had no idea why.

You couldn’t help but smile back at him. “Good. I’m y/n.” You said, reaching out your hand.

Yuta stared at your hand for a minute before he took it in his and lifted it to his lips. You were taken aback, expecting a handshake. He pressed a kiss to the back on your hand while keeping eye contact with you. You gasped slightly, his hands felt cool, but his lips were warm. His gaze was so intense compared to moments ago, and it sent shivers up your spine.

“I know. I’ve known you since you were quite small.” He smiled as he straightened up again. “I’m Yuta, I’m the spirit that lives in this house.”

“Well Yuta, it’s nice to finally know you. How can I see you?” You asked

“Very few humans can at your age, usually it’s just children.” Yuta explained.

“I see.” You reached out to touch his face. “May I?”

Yuta nodded. You gently touched his cheek, it felt like a thick, cool air. He lifted his hand to cover yours. You noticed you could see your hand through his shifty one. “Can you feel anything?” You asked curiously.

“Barely, I can only feel warmth, but no sensation like I did when I was alive.” He said flatly.

“Wow.” You said, astonished that you were actually speaking to a fully materialized spirit.

Yuta chuckled at your child-like wonder. “You know you don’t have to go through with it.” He said after a short silence.

“What?” You say, puzzled. “You heard that?”

Yuta smiled shyly. “Yeah, most of it.” He said fidgeting with his hands. He then looked up at you with wide eyes. “Not that I eavesdrop or watch you all the time- I just- well- “ He began to panic. You laughed and reached up to “touch” his shoulder comfortingly.

“Don’t worry- I don’t think you’re a pervert.” You said, giggling.

Yuta sighed. “Oh, good. I didn’t realize that sounded rather creepy.” He laughed nervously.

You laugh again. “I’m glad there’s someone I can get along with around here. I would tell you to make yourself at home but you were here long before me.” You turned to pick up some of the fallen books and start putting them back in their respective places.

Yuta leaned his shoulder against the shelf with his arms crossed, smiling fondly at you as you move around the room, going on about the different books you’ve been reading. I felt like no time had passed, like everything was right in the world again.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ • ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ 

From that day forward, Yuta became your confidant. Being as you were the only one that could see him, you figured there was no harm in telling him all of your secrets, fears, and dreams. On top of that, there was something about Yuta that felt incredibly safe. Even if he were alive, he would still be your closest friend.

If you spent a lot of time alone before, it was like you were a hermit now. You really left the library, and sometimes it even sounded like you were talking to yourself. Your mother pressed her ear to the large wooden door, curious as to who you were talking to.

“That girl, she worries me.” She said, knowing for a fact you were alone in there.

Despite the growing concern of your parents, you were the happiest you had been in a long time. Yuta was always with you, he made you belly laugh until your ribs hurt, always wanted you to read him your stories, and he told you stories from when he was alive.

“I am 125 years old you know.” he said after he finished telling you about his childhood.

“You don’t look a day over 25.” You said sarcastically.

“Oh stop, you make my blush.” He said exaggerating his gestures.

“If you could even blush.” You quipped

He feigned a shocked gasp. “How rude Miss Y/n. I thought you were a lady.” Yuta fired back with a smirk.

You snickered. “If being a lady means I have no sense of humor, then I’m no lady.”

Yuta chuckled at you, your unapologetic attitude was one of the things he adored about you. His gaze lingered for a bit as you concentrated on the book in your hands.

“You know you don’t have to go through with it.” He said suddenly changing the subject.

You looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. “Sorry?”

“You don’t have to marry that pompous ass if you don’t want to.” He clarified.

You scoffed. “Yuta, you of all people should know the world doesn’t work like that.” Your eyes went back to your book.

“I wish we would have lived at the same time.” Yuta’s voice suddenly became softer.

You looked up to meet Yuta’s eyes- they could be so intense sometimes. Words were suddenly lost on you, your lips parted but nothing escaped. You were suddenly aware of the proximity of his face to yours. He reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, then tracing your jaw with his finger until he reached your chin. You felt goosebumps erupt on your arms, the cool air suddenly making you shiver.

Yuta noticed and pulled his hand away. “Sorry.” he breathed. “I forget how cold I am.” He said sadly, his eyes downcast.

You gently brought you hands up to his face, causing him to meet your eyes. He looked surprised.

“Me too.” you said quietly. “Maybe in another life, I wouldn’t mind being stuck with you for a husband.” You smiled.

Yuta’s face lit up with a huge grin that reached his eyes. He laughed breathily.

“I suppose this would be a good time to tell you I have loved you since you were small.” He brought a hand up to hold yours against his face. “But I’ve been in love with you since you’ve grown up into the beautiful person you are now.”

There was a moment of pause as you stared in the galaxies that seemed to be swirling in his eyes. All you could hear was your breathing growing shallower and your blood rushing in your ears. He was perfect.

Now or never.

You leaned in slowly, as if being magnetically pulled. Your lips hovered over his; he stayed still. Both of your eyes were half-mast as you stared at each other’s lips.

He pulled away.

You deflated. Yuta kept his gaze down. “I can’t.” He said in a thin voice. “And why not?” you retorted. He met your eyes with his glassy ones. “If I am going to kiss you- of which I want nothing more- I want to be able to feel you, and you me. You deserve that.”

“I don’t care Yuta. You have already given me what I know I will never have in this life.” You breathed, feeling tears begin to prick your eyes. “I love you.”

Yuta blanched at your words. He had gone too far, let his own selfish desires to be with you again get in the way. If you really wanted to be with him, what was the cost? He could never give you what you wanted from him. “You deserve someone who can give you a real life, a human one.”

You stood up abruptly with your back to him. The tears that had been gathering in your eyes spilled over, suddenly it was hard to breathe. Why was he doing this? You spun around to face him. “Then why?” you said with a shaky voice. “Why did do all of this? If you knew all along that you loved me why would you wait until the moment I realized that I loved you too to break my heart?!” Your voice began to rise as you spoke.

Yuta looked at you with a helpless look on his face. “I’m sorry.” was all he could choke out before his head fell into his hands and he began to sob. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at his any longer before rushing out of the room.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ • ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ 

You hadn’t seen Yuta in weeks. You barely spoke, your appetite was all but gone, and you cried nearly every night. You had forgotten how lonely it all was before him. You had become completely apathetic to your situation, allowing the your betrothal to become official. The wedding was in a week, and you were dragged to countless meetings with your dress designer, dance lessons, and wedding plans that your mother was far more excited about than you were. You spent any other time you had locked away in your room writing. At least in the world of your own creation, the heroine was able to have the life you wanted. She could have a career, travel the world, walk along the streets of big cities, and still have the love of a lifetime without having to sacrifice a single thing.

One day, you sat at your writing desk by the tall window, watching your tears fall to the paper below in soft patters. You looked up into the mirror, you didn’t even recognize yourself anymore. You were frail and your skin had taken on a dull sallowness. You could feel yourself slipping, the constant despair causing your to fray at the seams. You closed you eyes for a moment before opening them to see a head of silvery hair standing behind you. His eyes were just as doe-like as ever- they looked at you with such sadness. With a sharp gasp you turned only to find nobody behind you. You looked back to the mirror to see only yourself reflected back at you. There was no way of knowing if you imagined it or if he was really there. It all became too much, and with a pained scream you shattered the mirror in front of you with your fists.

Where is he?

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ • ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ 

Despite the fussing of everyone around you and your mother’s scolding, your lacerated hands hardly concerned you. You sat in your nightgown still, in your usually chair by the window in the library. You fiddled with your bandages on your hands before one of the house attendants had come in.

“Miss Y/n?” he spoke softly.

You quickly snapped out of your trance, “Yes?”.

“A letter for you, miss.” He said as he handed you a small envelope with a seal.

You offered him a small smile, “Thank you.”

Your literature professor had told you to send off one of your stories to a publishing company in New York City. You eyed the wax seal on the envelope, and broke it.

𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝑀𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝒴/𝓃,

𝒲𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝑒𝓃𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓊𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝓊𝓈𝒸𝓇𝒾𝓅𝓉, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓃 𝑔𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓀. 𝐼𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒷𝑒 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒽𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝑜 𝒾𝓃𝓋𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝑜 𝒩𝑒𝓌 𝒴𝑜𝓇𝓀 𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝒾𝓈𝒸𝓊𝓈𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝓅𝓊𝒷𝓁𝒾𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓃𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁. 𝐼𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓊𝓈 𝒶 𝓇𝑒𝓅𝓁𝓎 𝑒𝓍𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉. 𝐻𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝑜𝑜𝓃.

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓂 𝓇𝑒𝑔𝒶𝓇𝒹𝓈,

𝐸𝓁𝒾𝓏𝒶𝒷𝑒𝓉𝒽 𝒮𝓉𝑒𝒾𝓃, 𝐸𝒹𝒾𝓉𝑜𝓇 𝒾𝓃 𝒞𝒽𝒾𝑒𝒻

Holy shit. You thought, quickly folding up the letter and going to your room to hide it in your desk drawer. This was surreal, never did you think you could actually get published- by one of the largest publishers in the country no less. Your wedding was in a week, what could you possibly do about it now? You slightly cursed yourself for being so resigned about your engagement. Until you remembered Yuta’s words:

“You don’t have to do it you know, I think you know that too. You could leave it all behind and be perfectly fine on your own.”

You turned to your bed to pull out a large suitcase, throwing it open before shoving every possession you could fit inside. Your life wasn’t here, especially now that Yuta had gone. You thought of your family- their disappointment. Your mother’s you could deal with, but when your mind crossed your father there was a slight tinge of guilt. You paused your movements for a moment. He understood you, and he always stood up for you when your mother would get particularly overbearing. Still, you knew he wouldn’t stop the engagement. You snapped out of your trance and continued to pack until were interrupted by a knock at your door.

You jumped at the sudden noise, suddenly aware you could be discovered. “Yes?” you called.

“Supper is ready Miss” someone said from the other side of the door. “Be right there!” you shouted.

Shit. You thought. You quickly shut your suitcase- which took a fair amount if effort due to how utterly stuffed it was. Shoving it under the bed, you fixed your slightly disheveled hair and left your room to meet your parents who were already sitting at the dining table.

“You look flushed, dear.” Your mother commented upon looking at your face. “Is everything alright?” She asked while sipping her wine.

“Yes, mother. It’s just rather chilly today.” You lied. You father just looked at you with a raised eyebrow before going back to pouring his own wine.

You were on edge the whole time, your leg constantly bouncing while mindlessly pushing food around your plate. You could barely stomach the idea of food due to house nervous you were. You were making your escape tonight, you thought. All you have to do is wait till dark. As soon as supper was over you quickly excused yourself and shoved your chair back before leaving the room without another word.

“She has barely said a word for weeks.” Your mother said lowly. “What on earth has gotten into her.”

“She wasn’t meant for this life.” You father mumbled. “She’s far too smart and stubborn.” You mother continued to watch the door where you had walked out. Her eyes narrowed before she finished her wine. “I blame you.” She said bitterly.

You rushed to the library to gather the few books you new you couldn’t live without. You dashed around the room, stacking them in your arms before you came to your usual spot by the window. You looked at the scattered books and your scrapped pieces of your writing. Your eyes stopped on a small drawing you had sketched while you and Yuta were spending one your usual days lazing around the library. He was facing you, his gaze turned out the window in front of him. Though you’re no artist and you could never do his angelic features justice, you could still very clearly remember the scene. You stuffed it in your pocket before heading back to your room to get the rest of your things together. For the first time in your life you had never felt so sure of something. Although you might never see Yuta again, he could never leave your memory- no amount of distance nor the passage of time could change that.

You bittersweetly smiled to yourself as you made your way down the hall to your room. You struggled to open the door with all the books in your arms and barely noticed someone sitting on the chair at your desk.

Your mother.

She was holding the letter.

All of the breath left your lungs, there was an icy feeling in the pit of your stomach. All of the hope you had deflated in a matter of seconds.

“After all I’ve done.” Your mother started, still staring at the letter. “You still are adamant on destroying our family.”

There was silence for a several moments. You had tolerated her snide remarks and constant distaste for everything that made you happy. You played along with her ideas for your entire life, and for what?

“No, mother.” you said in a low voice. “You are adamant on destroying me.”

Your mother quickly stood up and rushed over to you. “How could you be so selfish?!” She seethed, her face just inches from yours. “Do you honestly expect that you could survive in this world all on your own? Don’t you know that isn’t possible for us?!” She said in a mix of anger and tears.

“Just because you gave up on your dreams doesn’t mean you can get in the way of mine.” You said in a flat, low voice.

Your mother shook with rage and tears before she pushed past you and stopped with her hand on your door handle. “I will not have my family be a laughing stock just because you have silly delusions. You will stay in this room until the wedding if that’s what it takes.” She spat before slamming the door.

“NO!”  You heard the faint sound of a lock from the outside. You slammed on the wooden door with your fists in rage until it eventually turned into tears of frustration. You eventually slumped against the door, exhausted.

Hours passed and shadows stretched across your room as the sun sank into the earth. The only light coming from the small lamp in your room. Everything was numb, all your fight had left you. You leaned back against the cool wood of your door, still sat the same spot you slumped in. You let out a sigh before felt yourself falling backward. You yelped as the door opened behind you and you fell  out into the hallway.

“What the hell-“ you began before you looked up.

Yuta.

You stared for a few seconds in disbelief thinking it was just another one of your hallucinations. Yuta’s brows were knitted as he stared down at you.

“Well? Don’t just lie there, you don’t have much time.” He said. You looked at him quizzically before it dawned on you: he was helping you escape. Yuta seemed to notice your moment of clarity and offered his signature smile. You got yourself off the floor and looked him in the eyes. Tears pricked your eyes as you smiled at him. Without really thinking you threw your arms around him, and you were surprised to feel warmth rather than the coolness of his shifty figure. It didn’t quite feel like a typical hug, but more like being enveloped in warmth.

“I missed you.” Was all you could say. You both stayed there for a few moments before you felt his warmth pull away from you.

“I never left.” He said with a warm grin. “Now hurry up, lady. I don’t pick locks for just anybody.” He winked.

You grinned widely before running off to grab all of your things. It was probably just before dawn by the looks of it, Yuta lead you to a small doorway that you had never seen before. “This was how I sneaked out.” He told you. You huffed in amusement before grabbing a hold of the handle, it was old and probably hadn’t been opened in years. You had to use all of your strength to slide it open, it was slowly beginning to inch open before you heard a voice.

“Y/n.”

You jumped and fell backward before looking up to see your father with an unreadable expression on his face. Your heart was leaping out of your chest, you looked around and saw Yuta standing next to you with a panicked expression on his face. If you weren’t screwed before, you definitely were now. \

“Where do you think you’re going?” He said in a grave voice before walking over to you. He helped you off the floor, and you kept your eyes glued to them.

“Without this?” He continued. Your eyes snapped up to see him holding an envelope. You met this eyes with your brows knit together, utterly confused.

You took it from him and opened it. Inside it was a train ticket and some cash. Your mouth fell open before you looked back up at your father who was smiling fondly. He took your face in his hands and gingerly kissed your forehead before meeting your eyes with his glassy ones.

“Go.” He said with a wide, proud smile.

You kissed his cheek before telling him you loved him and that you would write when you got to New York before you scurried out the door. You came out the other side to see the garden just outside your favorite window by the library. You took a deep inhale of the crisp morning air and saw the sky begin to tinge with orange as the sun began to rise. You opened your eyes to see the window open and Yuta staring at you with a fond look on his face. Despite your joy, your heart deflated when you made the realization.

Yuta would probably never see him again. You ran over to him placing both your hands on the window sill as he leaned down on his elbows. “Come with me.” You said through the tears painting your cheeks. Yuta gave you a sad chuckle before he reached his hand out to your face. You leaned into the warmth and closed your eyes. “I can’t.” You voice broke. “Not without you.” You opened your eyes to meet his and scanned his features for a moment, desperately trying to engrain his beautiful face in your memory. The sunlight shone faintly through his slightly transparent figure, giving him an ethereal glow.

He was the first to break the silence. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll see you again soon.” You were confused. “How?” you asked.

He chuckled again. “I’ve waited a hundred years to meet you, what’s another few decades?” You smiled at his jest. Yuta brought his hands to your face, they felt almost real this time. “Go, I want you to live. Be the heroine in your stories. Go on adventures. Break hearts. Feel heartbreak. Laugh till you can’t breathe. Feel it all, the greatest joy and the deepest pain. Write your stories. Then, after you’re old and grey and it’s time for you to leave this world, you can tell me all about it.” You let out a shaky laugh between your sobs, never had you felt more pain and love at the same time. Yuta leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. This time, you swore you could feel the plushness of his lips and his fingertips grazing your jaw and neck. You felt his pull away and opened your eyes to meet his. They never failed to put you in a trance.

“I love you.” You said in a voice just above a whisper. You saw his pupils dilate as he heard your words.

“If you only knew how much I loved you.” He said with the most beautiful smile that lit up his eyes like stars.

“Now beat it, you have a train to catch.” He joked. You chuckled. You abruptly turned to leave to save yourself from further torture. You ran across the meadow to your horse. You strapped down your things and hoisted yourself up before taking one last look at the window. Yuta was still there, he gave you a small wave. “See you soon.” You whispered before spurring your horse forward into a brisk run.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ • ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ 

Snow fell softy outside your window, the city took on a unique charm during the winter. The lights glittered and the people bustled down below, never stopping for a heartbeat. You looked around your home that you had called your own for decades. There was a piece of you here that would never leave, given you had written some of the most bestselling novels in history within these walls. All of the fame had made for an extraordinary life, but even in the moments of utter chaos time would slow to a crawl when he would cross your mind.

Over the years you wondered if it was all your imagination and if you ever actually would see him again. You reached to the side of your bed and picked up a small compact you kept with you all the time. You opened it to find the drawing of Yuta you had made all those years ago, it was your only way to remember his face as the years went by. Then you looked over to the mirror in the other side and saw your face. You were no longer the youth you once were, you looked over the way time had wore over your face. You smiled, it was proof you had kept your promise to Yuta, or leaving it all behind would have been for nothing.

You closed the locket and held it to your chest as you felt yourself drifting off to sleep. It felt strange like, you were being enveloped in warmth, the noises around you starting to blur and echo, as if you were under water. You heard a voice whisper right before everything turned black.

You woke with a gasp. It felt as though you had slipped into a deep ocean and couldn’t stop yourself until all of the sudden you were brought back to the surface. The room your were in was flooded with sunlight and you squinted as your eyes adjusted. What soon came into focus was the library from your family home. Everything was the same, except it felt different. Lighter, dreamier, as if time didn’t really move here. Looking down at your hands, they were no longer veiny and wrinkled from time, but youthful again. You turned your head to the window, a boy sat there. A boy with silver hair. As if he knew you had spotted him, he turned his head to meet your eyes. He smiled as if he was expecting you.

Yuta.

He stood up as you ran to him and nearly knocked him over as you embraced. He  was real, you could feel his solid form as you buried your face in the hair that dusted his neck. He smelled exactly how you imagined and he was so, so warm. You felt the vibrations of his low laugh as you clung to him desperately. He pulled back to look at your face before he kissed you, gently brushing his thumb along your neck where his hold was. You were finally home.

You pulled away from each other before letting out a giggle. “I have so much to tell you.” You said. He smiled. Not a thing about him had changed.

“And I can’t wait to hear all of it.”  

[flintwoodandco]

Three Is Not A Crowd

Summary: Neville and Oliver like to bring strangers home.

Neville should recognize this one, but doesn’t, and Oliver is, well, blindfolded.

Rating: Explicit

Genre: Choose Your Own Universe, Established Neville/Oliver, Pre-negotiated Kink, Threesome, Safe Sane and Consensual

Warnings: Polyamory, Frottage, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Awkward Sexual Situations, Spitroasting, Dirty Talk

Words: 2509

A/N: brainworm .... may write more about these three.

if there’s anything else i should tag on ao3, lmk!!

-

AO3

or

They had been stealing glances for minutes now. 

Like always, Neville waited, testing the waters. Whenever he took a sip from his pint, the man across the bar followed suit. Then, their eyes would meet before they pretended to get caught up in something else. 

Whether it was the man’s steel grey eyes or his rugged–and handsome in their own way–looks, Neville was intrigued. Enough was enough. Taking a long drink, Neville steadied himself and made his way over to the other side of the bar. 

“Care to buy a man a drink?” he grinned as he took an empty barstool next to the stranger. 

“What about the one you just had?” the man teased back. 

Neville smirked at this, letting his leg brush against the man’s as he turned towards him. “Well, there’s still room for shots isn’t there?”

With a quirk of an eyebrow, the man then flagged down the bartender and ordered two shots, dark and unidentifiable. Toasting each other, Neville didn’t let his gaze stray as they took their shots, the liquor burning as it flowed down his throat. 

“Got any plans for the rest of the evening?” Neville said as his confidence grew. 

If only his old schoolmates could see him now, a far cry from the timid boy he once was. It only made him stand even taller, flashing a wicked smile at the man. 

“Well, if you’ve got time in your busy schedule for me,” the man licked his lips. 

At this, Neville couldn’t help himself. He dove in, stealing a kiss from the man, who eagerly pushed back. Their kiss broke with a small bite and Neville cleared his throat, reminding himself of his task. 

“Just one thing,” Neville began, “I, well, I have a boyfriend–” the man’s face fell and Neville stumbled over his next words. “But! We like to fool around! Bring in another person. If that’s alright with you.”

“Oh,” the man blinked. Neville’s stomach dropped and he waited for the rejection. “More than alright.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Neville leaned forward, placing a kiss on the corner of the man’s mouth. “Suppose we shouldn’t keep him waiting then, hm?”

Neville took the man’s hand and the two quickly paid for their drinks before heading out of the bar. Outside, they met in another heated kiss and Neville’s knees weakened. This felt so right, the excitement, the unknown that laid before them. 

“Got your boyfriend all tied up or something?” the man asked when they parted for a moment. 

“You could say that,” Neville toyed, unable to stop his cheeky grin. 

Amongst rough kisses and heavy petting, somehow Neville managed to get the two of them back to his shared flat. Make-out sessions against the door and down the hall finally brought them to the bedroom where upon opening the door, Neville was able to see all his hard work coming to fruition. 

On the bed, his boyfriend–Oliver–writhed as a whine left him. His wrists were tied up, eyes covered with a black cloth while a red ball gag held his mouth open. His body, fully nude, shifted against the sheets, the vibrator inside of him buzzing on his sweet spot. 

Neville grinned as the man stared on, almost to the point of drooling. “If he didn’t have that cock ring on, he’d have come five times by now,” Neville whispered in the man’s ear. 

Stepping away, Neville stripped himself of his clothes and climbed onto the bed, running his hand down Oliver’s side. “We’ve got a guest, sweetheart. Let’s put on a show.”

Oliver moaned in return, his hips bucking up as Neville’s fingers trailed lower. Looking back over at the man, Neville held his stare as his fingertips ghosted along Oliver’s cock before sliding lower, teasing at the pulsing entrance. 

With a low groan, the man all but tore off his clothes, landing on the bed with heavy movements. Neville pulled him in for another kiss and the two moaned loudly as their tongues shoved in and out of each other’s mouths. 

Neville’s smile never wavered, especially when he felt Oliver twist and shake from his fingers playing around with the vibrator. With an agonizing, slow pace, Neville pulled the vibrator out, before tugging the man to sit between Oliver’s legs. 

“Why don’t you have the honors?” Neville offered, his hand stroking the man’s hardened cock a few times. 

The man nodded, a shaky breath leaving him and Neville felt his cock twitch. Without clothes, Neville could see the man’s shaped abs, his bulky form and he almost thought about offering his own ass up first. However, Oliver had been so patient. Neville didn’t want to neglect him. 

“Alright, darling, let’s work that mouth of yours,” Neville sat across Oliver, his cock landing on Oliver’s face. 

Oliver nuzzled the cock and Neville steeled himself, lest he started rubbing on Oliver’s face to get off on that alone. When Oliver froze, Neville looked over his shoulder, watching as the man entered Oliver. He slid in easily, filling Oliver up to the hilt. Oliver and the man moaned together, but it wasn’t until the man started thrusting, rough and slow, that Neville took the gag off of Oliver. 

Giving Oliver only a moment to breathe, Neville then shoved the head of his cock into Oliver’s mouth and swore as Oliver worked his magic. Oliver’s tongue teased him, his lips sucked Neville deeper, until the world faded away. Neville worked himself in and out of Oliver’s mouth, timing himself with the man’s thrusts until the sound of slapping skin, heavy moans filled the room. 

This was ecstasy. Neville looked behind him to see the man gripping tight to Oliver’s hips, slamming into him and Oliver’s cock bouncing against his stomach. The sight was beautiful, Neville wishing he could see multiple angles at once.

“Take that cock ring off of him, will you?” Neville panted as he kept fucking Oliver’s mouth. “He’s been such a good boy after all.”

The man agreed, freeing Oliver from the cock ring. In a few thrusts, Oliver was screaming against Neville’s cock, cum coating his stomach and Neville’s back. The vibrations only helped bring Neville to his own orgasm and he spilled into Oliver’s mouth, a gasp leaving him as he endlessly came. A grunt from the man was all Neville needed to hear to know that Oliver was being filled up and he grabbed onto the headboard to keep himself from collapsing. 

“Fuck,” the man rasped out and Neville couldn’t help but agree. 

With gentle moves, Neville pulled himself away from Oliver and freed his wrists before laying next to him. “Alright there?” Neville checked in as he untied the blindfold. 

“Never better,” Oliver managed, his voice raw. 

The two shared a passionate kiss before Neville turned to the man to ask how he was. Until Neville saw the confused stare on the man’s face. 

“Flint?” Oliver’s voice shot up in pitch.

Neville could only watch as Oliver scrambled into a seated position, knees up as if to protect himself while the man at the end of the bed jumped off, eyes wide and mouth open. 

“Wait, what?” Neville looked between the two men, confusion and fear colliding together. 

“Wood,” the man spoke at last before his stare snapped over to Neville. “Hold on...Longbottom?”

Neville’s stomach sank. Suddenly, there was something familiar about this man and old, haunted memories from school filled Neville’s brain. 

“You didn’t recognize him?” Oliver brought Neville back to the moment at hand. “You’ve been to all my games, we went to school with him.”

“I…,” Neville sifted through scrambled thoughts but nothing made sense. “To be fair, my focus was...has always been on you, Oliver,” Nevilled then defended himself. 

“Holy shit,” Marcus breathed, running his hands down his face. “When did you get fit, Longbottom?”

Neville blinked at this. He had expected yelling, some choice insults. Not Marcus Flint staring at him with a renewed hunger. Heat coiled in Neville’s stomach and he suddenly felt the need to cover himself. 

“Alright now, he’s my boyfriend,” Oliver nearly growled as he took Neville’s hand in his own. 

“Yeah, but, we all just fucked,” Marcus shrugged as if there was no problem at all. “I don’t think anything here is exactly conventional.”

Neville looked between the two men, Oliver glaring Marcus down as Marcus pretended there was something interesting on his arm. Just minutes before they were all on the bed, having the time of their lives. There was plenty to say but Neville couldn’t focus on any of it. 

Laughter burst out of Neville and he could only collapse on the bed as his stomach began to hurt. Yet, the laughter didn’t stop. He could feel the stares, feel Oliver’s concerned touches, but it took what seemed like eons before Neville finally caught his breath. 

“Oh, fuck,” Neville giggled as he properly sat up. “This certainly is something, isn’t it?”

Wiping the tears away from his eyes, Neville’s pride swelled as both Oliver and Marcus had small smiles of their own. It was almost too impossible to be believed and yet everything that had transpired on this night was perfectly real. 

“Well, I suppose we could start over,” Oliver mused, his gaze straying over to Marcus. “It’s not as if I’ve ever truly hated you. Just...”

“...Good, old fashioned rivalry,” Marcus supplied. “And you, Long–er, Neville,” Marcus caught Neville’s attention. “I’m sorry about everything that happened at school. What my classmates did. What I did.”

The corner of Neville’s mouth twitched and he nodded. “Thank you, Marcus. Though, you didn’t really do–”

“–but I should have been better, should have stopped them or something,” Marcus was quick to jump in. “You didn’t deserve any of that.”

Neville fell silent then and leaned into Oliver as his arm wrapped around him. School had not been easy by any means, but Neville was finally healing, ready to move on. Swallowing, Neville settled into his resolution and brought Marcus into a small kiss. The hesitation from Marcus only solidified Neville’s choice, their embrace ending all too soon. Neville was quick to kiss Oliver as well, the love of his boyfriend helping Neville feel safe and sound. 

The silence in the room was deafening and despite everything, Neville wanted to go back to where it was before, when the evening had begun. Sharing a stare with Oliver was all it took before Neville was watching Oliver kiss Marcus, an unresolved tension finally breaking between the two. 

As Marcus’ hand slid up his thigh, Neville’s stress fell from his shoulders and he was quick to dive back in, nipping and kissing along Marcus’ neck. Before Neville knew it, he was wrapped up in Oliver’s arms, fingers ghosting along his chest and teasing his nipples. A small moan left him, earning a wicked grin from Marcus.

“Sensitive?” Marcus teased before he leaned down, taking one of the nipples in his mouth. 

Neville’s hands flew to Marcus’ hair and he whimpered as Oliver flicked one nipple while Marcus’ tongue swirled around the other. Strong hands gripped onto his waist, sure to leave deep bruises that Neville would never want to fade. 

“What do you want, love?” Oliver whispered in Neville’s ear, his teeth grazing along the curve of Neville’s neck. 

“Fuck, anything, everything,” Neville panted, his back arching as Marcus’s mouth traveled down his stomach. 

The snap of a bottle cap and Marcus’ mouth on his cock forced Neville’s eyes wide open. He shuddered, letting his body be rearranged so he was kneeling. Marcus went on his hands and knees, still pleasing Neville’s cock while Oliver’s oiled fingers traced along Neville’s rim. 

Neville pleaded for more as Oliver’s finger pushed into him, only to have his breath caught in his throat as Marcus wrapped his hand around Neville’s cock. Sitting up, Marcus pulled Neville into an open kiss, moans exchanged between the two as Oliver stretched Neville open. 

“More, yes,” Neville trembled, leaning on Marcus to steady himself. 

“Needy too,” Marcus joked as he slowly pumped Neville’s cock. “Any other secrets to Neville, Wood?”

Neville could see Oliver’s evil grin in his mind and when Oliver brushed against his prostate, Neville lost any coherency he still had. His moan filled the room, followed by breathy laughs that shot along his spine. 

“Please, Oliver, put your cock in me,” Neville begged, his hands gripping tight to Marcus’ shoulders. 

Letting the two men move him around, Neville found himself staring right into Marcus’ eyes as Oliver pushed into him. 

“Beautiful,” Marcus breathed against Neville’s lips, holding his head in place by simply holding his chin. “I can’t wait to see what you look like when you come.”

Neville groaned at this, pushing his ass back against Oliver to make him move faster. 

“Easy there,” Oliver held onto Neville’s hips. “You’ll get what you want, sweetheart.”

With his free hand, Marcus gripped his and Neville’s cocks in a tight hold, rubbing them together as Oliver began to thrust into Neville. 

“Oh, fuck,” Neville’s voice shook. 

It all felt so good–the two bodies he was stuck between, the stretch of Oliver’s cock, Marcus’ rough pumping–he was losing himself in the best way and Neville let himself be consumed by Marcus’ deep, heavy stare. 

Whines and moans escaped from Neville as Oliver and Marcus wrought out his pleasure, sending him closer to the edge with each passing moment. Oliver’s breaths warmed Neville’s neck while Marcus teased him with small kisses and nips on his lower lip. 

Neville couldn’t hold back anymore and his head fell back onto Oliver’s shoulder as he reached his climax. A near scream tore itself from Neville’s throat, his cock awkwardly thrusting in Marcus’ hand. Cum covered his and Marcus’ stomachs, but Marcus continued to milk Neville dry as he reached his own orgasm with a sharp groan. Oversensitivity took over, causing Neville to whimper as Oliver pounded into him, Marcus’ hand still stroking the two of them. His nails dug into Marcus’ skin and when Oliver came, Neville let out a pleased moan. 

All three men struggled to catch their breaths, holding each other up as bliss passed over them. When Neville lifted his head, he was greeted by the sight of Marcus licking the cum off his hand before Oliver snuck in a kiss from Marcus to have a taste. With Oliver slipping out of him, Neville lost his strength and he was happy to let Oliver lay him down, his mind still in a slight haze.

Neville tried to help clean up, but Oliver and Marcus were quicker, gracing Neville with small kisses before they finally settled on the bed. As sleep began to take over, Neville watched Oliver and Marcus take their places on either side of him, both men choosing to throw an arm over his waist. 

As their legs tangled together, Neville settled into the warmth and exhaustion washed him away, a smile on his face as it did so. 

[is-it-art-tho]

This is Chapter 9!

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6.   Chapter 7. Chapter 8.

Summary: Dick begins the healing process.

By all accounts, Dick should not have survived.

That was what he gleaned from murmured conversations between nurses and snippets of news coverage. His medical records had filled in some blanks, too.

Concussion, multiple fractures, internal hemorrhaging, lacerations, cardiac arrest.

Cardiac arrest. The words had played on a loop in his head ever since his doctor had first said them, and even now Dick couldn’t quite make any sense of it.

The doctor had smiled at him afterwards, informed him of how lucky he was to be alive. “Usually when someone goes into cardiac arrest in the field, they don’t even make it to the hospital,” she’d said. “Good thing Batman was there, huh?”

“Batman?”

“Mhm. EMTs saw him. He must have been doing CPR before they got there.”

“Hm,” was all Dick had offered in response, but internally he had clung to those minor details like a drowning man grasping at driftwood.

The majority of that night was lost to him. Listening to the news helped somewhat, but reporters only knew so much. And none of the others – Barbara, Tim, any of them – had been very forthcoming, either.

Dick hadn’t pressed, though. The haunted look in their eyes whenever they came to visit him in the hospital had been enough for him to decide never to bring that night up again. He already hated that he might have inadvertently become added fodder for future nightmares; no need to throw gas on the fire.

He could live with not-knowing what had happened if it meant keeping them from reliving it.

“Richard?”

The young voice dragged Dick’s gaze away from the curtains he’d been staring at to the doorway. He’d been back at the manor for nearly two days now, in bed mostly, and in that time he had yet to see Damian except for the ride back from the hospital.

Now the boy was standing at the threshold with a tea service in his hands, his mouth curled in an uncertain frown. “Am I… interrupting?”

Dick smirked and made a show of looking around the empty bedroom. “Yeah. I’m pretty swamped here, as you can see.”

“You know what I meant.”

“I know, but it was a dumb question, anyway. You know you’re never interrupting, Damian. C’mon.” Dick waved him in with a jerk of his chin then froze and winced as a jolt of pain shot up his spine and into his head.

Damian entered stiffly and set the tray on the bedside table, shoving aside pill bottles and a glass of water.

“Damian?” Dick asked after what felt like a long pause. Damian’s eyes were locked on the tea set, his face scrunched in a way that made him look nervous and uncomfortable and young.

Dick reached out with his good hand and tugged on the boy’s sleeve. “Hey, you okay?”

“Of course, I am,” Damian snapped, pulling his arm out of reach. He scowled at a bookshelf. “Drake is having a difficult time.”

“Tim?” Dick tried to push himself more upright and quickly aborted that mission with a hiss when he felt a sharp tug at the sutures across his abdomen. “What do you mean? What’s going on?”

“He blames himself for what happened. For not locating you sooner.”

“He told you that?”

“I overheard him talking to Stephanie.”

“Aw, Tim.” Tim had been noticeably distant, it was true, but Dick had interpreted it as general anxiety about the whole situation. Never in a million years would he have guessed that Tim had managed to convince himself this was his fault.

Damian muttered something, hands now shoved into his pockets.

“What?”

“I said he is a fool. To act as if he is the one who…” Damian swallowed hard, glowering at the carpet.

Birds were gathering and chirping in a bush by the open window, and though the curtains were drawn to protect Dick’s concussed brain from harsh light, hazy beams still found their way in, spilling across the floor and along the foot of the bed.

“He is not the one to blame,” Damian finished.

“No one is.” Dick couldn’t tell if it was the drugs or his injuries that were making this conversation so hard to follow, but he felt like he was missing something, straggling two steps behind. “At least, not any of you.”

Damian looked at him with open disbelief. “I failed you, Richard. If not for my ineptitude, you wouldn’t have– I should have gone with you when you left that night. None of this would have happened if I had just–”

“Stop.” Dick had meant it to be firm, but the word sounded more like a plea. His head was really pounding now, and keeping the pain out of his voice was becoming increasingly difficult. “You can’t let yourself start doing that or else you’ll never stop. It was a freakish, sucky thing that none of us could have anticipated and therefore probably couldn’t have avoided, either. And yeah, maybe if you had been there it wouldn’t have happened. Or maybe something worse would’ve happened instead. We don’t know and we never will, but what I do know is that you did the best you could in the moment.”

“And it was not good enough.”

“Damian–”

“It is my job to be good enough,” Damian maintained. “If I can’t protect you then…” He let the rest go unsaid, his lips pressing together as his eyes glistened. “I am supposed to be able to protect you.”

Oh. So that’s what this was about.

“Damian,” Dick tried again, and what was meant to be a sigh turned into a low groan as his ribs refused to cooperate.

Damian tensed, wide-eyed.

“We’re good. I’m okay,” Dick promised before the boy could sound the alarms. Then, “I’m not Batman anymore, Damian. You’re not my Robin. You don’t have to put that kind of pressure on yourself.”

And again, Damian gave him a look like Dick still just wasn’t getting it, like he missing something glaring and obvious and not worth explaining except to say, “Yes, I do, Richard.”

Dick started to say something, but Damian continued, “You are saying that excessive self-reproach is counter-productive. I understand the sentiment. And I appreciate it. Thank you.”

He turned to the tea service and begin pouring a cup, his entire demeanor changed, suddenly casual . “How is your pain?”

“I…” Dick paused, once again feeling off balance and too slow as the tone and subject of the discussion switched so suddenly. “A four.”

“So, a seven,” Damian deduced, taking one of the pill bottles from the nightstand and opening it after checking the label. “Alfred said if it is above a five then you are to take two of these.”

Dick considered fighting him on this, reluctant to lose the rest of the morning to a drug-fueled haze, but the pulsing ache beneath his skull and the one radiating through his ribs made it difficult. He let Damian tip the capsules into his open palm and threw them back without complaint.

“You got anything planned this morning?” Dick asked, accepting the cup the tea Damian held out.

“Nothing important.”

“Great.” Dick reached across his chest with his good arm to pat the open space in the bed beside him.

After a brief hesitation, Damian circled the mattress and climbed in, his movements so careful that Dick hardly jostled at all.

“What language are you on right now?” Dick asked, settling back into the pillows. It might have been psychosomatic, but already he was feeling drowsy.

“Hungarian.”

“Huh. What happened to Korean?”

“Too easy. I finished that a week ago,” Damian said dismissively, though there was a self-satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.

Dick chuckled. “Show-off. How far along are you?”

“More or less conversational.”

“Nice.” Dick’s eyes were closed now. “Show me something.”

“I am not circus monkey, Richard.”

“Y’know, I grew up in the circus,” Dick mumbled. “The monkeys were my favorite. Miss those little guys.”

He thought he heard Damian sigh – or maybe it was a laugh – before the boy asked, “What do you want to hear?”

“That song Bruce hums all the time. The one he sings when he thinks he’s alone. What’s it called?”

Damian’s voice sounded muffled and far away when he answered, “Am I Blue.”

“Yeah. That.”

Damian cleared his throat and began to recite the lyrics in near-perfect Hungarian. He paused occasionally to search for a word, at times reversing to correct a conjugation before moving on.

Dick was almost completely gone now. The bed had fallen away, and he felt like he was floating through the air with Damian’s voice as a welcome backdrop.

He didn’t notice the quiet chatter had stopped until Damian asked, “Richard?”

“Mm…?”

“You’re not just Batman to me. I mean, that is not why I feel responsible for your wellbeing.”

“’Kay. Y’too…”

After a brief pause, the gentle half-singing began again, and Dick slipped away on the familiar melody.

______________

All of the lights were off in the den when Alfred breezed in with a tray of hot chocolate just as A Charlie Brown Christmas began on the TV. Cass and Stephanie’s arms sprang up from their spots on the floor like weeds, and he placed mugs in their waiting hands before circling around to the others. Tim, curled up on the sofa, accepted his with a muttered thanks without looking up from his phone. Bruce took one for himself and one for Damian who was smushed into his side, mouth hanging open in dead sleep. When Alfred got to where Barbara and Dick were sharing a blanket on the couch, he smiled and set their mugs on the end table.

“Thanks, Alfred,” Dick whispered, glancing over at Barbara’s head on his shoulder to find that she had fallen asleep.

“Of course,” Alfred said. He set the tray aside and took a seat in a nearby chair. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Dick answered, perhaps a bit too quickly because Alfred raised a dubious eyebrow at him.

“Honest,” he added with a rueful grin.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it.”

They sat in silence for a while, the only noise coming from the TV and hushed laughter and whispers between Cassandra and Stephanie on the floor.

The air was thick with the ghost of Thanksgiving dinner and fresh hot chocolate, creating a warm bouquet that was at once comforting and nostalgic. Bruce had a faint smile on his face as he watched the movie, colors and lights splashing across his face. He had one arm draped over Damian’s small frame as if holding him there.

At some point, Tim had stowed his phone and turned so that his legs dangled off the armrest and he could see the screen better, hot chocolate clutched between his hands.

It was one of those admittedly rare moments where there was no clock ticking anywhere in the background. There was work to be done, for sure, but it was not a looming obligation. Tonight, the city for once was quiet. Dick couldn’t remember the last time he had passed an uninterrupted holiday in this house.

“Something is on your mind,” Alfred noted, taking a small sip from his mug.

“I was just thinking about today.”

“Nothing short of a miracle,” the older man said, instantly understanding.

“No kidding. It almost feels suspicious. Like the calm before the–”

“Don’t,” he said firmly, his face illuminated just enough by the TV for Dick to register the stern frown there. “I will not allow you to sully this gift with your dark premonitions. Just enjoy this for what it is: a welcome and much needed respite after the events of the past few weeks.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” Dick conceded, cringing a little in self-reproach. “Sorry, Al.”

The old man nodded, his face softening. “Now, would you mind telling me what is actually on your mind?”

Dick let out a breathy, half-hearted laugh. “You’re good.”

“I am indeed.”

With a sigh, he looked toward the TV. A Black Friday commercial was advertising half-priced gaming systems.

“Hey,” Tim whispered, waving his arm at Stephanie.

“What?”

“Get me that.” He pointed at the commercial, and Stephanie scoffed at him before resuming her muted conversation with Cass. After a few days and a much-needed conversation, Dick was happy to see Tim back to his normal self.

“It’s been a while,” he admitted now, returning his attention to Alfred who was watching him patiently, “since I’ve heard from Jason. Over a month, actually. Not the longest we’ve gone without speaking, but it’s the longest in a while.”

The cup paused halfway to Alfred’s mouth, his brow creasing. “Over a month?”

“Yeah,” Dick sighed. “We went on patrol together in October and things got a little rough. I said some stuff and we haven’t spoken since. I’m not even sure he’s still in the city.”

When Alfred continued to look at him, Dick asked, “What?”

“If you don’t mind my asking, how has your memory been as of late?”

Dick adjusted himself, gingerly repositioning Barbara’s head on his shoulder when he felt her beginning to slide off. “Fine now. I can’t remember much of that night. Or, pretty much anything, really. But otherwise I’m all right. Why?”

“And the others? What have they told you?”

“About what happened? I haven’t asked. I didn’t want to... Well, you know.”

“Indeed,” Alfred said with a somber nod, setting down his mug. “It is a night, or a week, rather, that I’m certain we would all like to leave firmly in the past. But even so, I believe there are at least a few details that you ought to know.”

[bloodycassian]

rhys x (no gender) reader - sword of all

Rhys was sure of only a few things in the world. The main one was that he was sure he would never know what the Cauldron threw at him.

�� When a bleeding Fae showed up on his dock, covered in black blood and wounded... he was only mildly surprised. The more interesting part of the situation was that the Fae carried a mighty sword that only Amren could identify.

"That weapon is a sign from the cauldron itself Rhysand. If you do not listen now you're a fool." She had hissed outside the door of the infirmary. Rhys had refused to let you be tortured for information on the sword that refused to leave your hand. "Interesting..." Madja had muttered at the sight of such a bond. It wasn't attached, it simply just... refused to move from your hand.

  "That is the Mother telling you! What else does she have to do? Write it in the clouds while you're flying?" Amren continued, her eyes burning with ferocity. Her desire for Rhys to be king of all Prythian had worn off months ago, unless provoked. Unless a stranger with The Sword of All was miraculously shipped directly to Velaris.

  "We know nothing of them. It could be a trap." Cassian intervened from the small couch outside the healers room. The infirmary was crowded, but in a homey way. Plants and vines creeped over the climbable areas, darkening the small windows and making the room feel like a rainforest.

  "Where is my spymaster, Cassian?" Rhys asked, still staring down Amren as brooded at him.

  "I uh..." he stammered, "See.. he - He'll be here any-" Azriel appeared in the doorway, his shadows filling the room. The plants inside seemed to shrink away. He held an ice pack to his ribs and glared at Cassian while limping forward.

  "It seems you pissed off your mate last night." Azriel said, then leaned down slowly to say softly "Next time you suggest she train with me, it will end poorly for you."

  Rhys smiled at that. but it was quickly tainted by Amren's growl. "This is serious, you grown bats. Rask hasn't seen this sword in over five millenia. If they find out we have it there will be an army at our doorstep."

  "The sword-" Azriel groaned lightly as he sat down next to Cassian. "doesnt exist. It was lost with the rebellion. We make sure it stays that way."

"I have three groups of Illyrians flying over the west sea looking for anyone who may have seen the boat carrying them and the sword. If they find anything it will be handled." Cassian promised.

  Amren looked to them, finally unlocking her glare from Rhys. She seemed satisfied enough. "I hope to be hearing from you... with that sword in your hand." She raised her chin and left without another word.

  Azriel seemed to be listening to the Madja in the next room. His shadows curling and whispering to him over his shoulders. "Barely injured.. with that much blood?" He looked to Rhys with curiosity.

  "I would not want to be on the receiving end of that sword." Rhys replied, then turned to oversee the healer's attempt to remove the weapon from your grasp. + You awoke with a searing pain in your palm. You sat up, and were instantly overtaken by a dizziness that pulled you to lean against the dark colored leather couch. 

"I must say, trying to transport someone who has a sword attached to them is more difficult than it sounds." The dark haired figure said, his slim yet strong body turning to face you. His eyes were dark, even against his darker skin. The all black outfit mixed with those eyes told you exactly who he was.

"High lord." You greeted, nodding as much as you could.

  "It's not every day I have visitors washing up on my shores. Even my spymaster failed to detect you." He paced from the end of the couch to the fireplace in the small living area. The house was dark, but not overtly so. A surprisingly cozy home compared to what you were expecting of Velaris. "With that being said you could imagine that my court has a few...questions." He held out a hand and a glass of amber liquid appeared. You felt your stomach roll at the sight of it.

 Rhysand shrugged. "If you're feeling well enough.. our healer said you should be fine within a few days."

  You straightened, weary of his kindness. You didnt feel threatened by his presence but the High Fae you had imagined ruling the night court did not match the person in front of you. "They paid me. Then they killed half my village." You said plainly, holding the sword in both hands. A look of shock flashed across Rhysand's face. The room seemed to darken with it.

  "The queens? Why would they-"

  "Not the queens." You corrected, reaching for the glass of liquor he had placed on the solid oak table in front of you. "Something far more...deadly. They were like ghosts, they were people but...illusions. They bound me and the sword by a spell, they spoke a language I did not recognize. Then I woke up to that creature carrying me."

  "You..." He smiled and looked to his feet in amusement, trying to hide the laugh. A shiver of delight ran through you at at the sight of his grin. You wanted to see it more.

 "You mean Mor- she's fierce but can be nice when she decides to." He sat on the arm chair next to you.

  "That's.. no. I mean-" You stammered, unable to explain. "She is light.. shes- do you not see it? She is made of light. It seeps through her bones." You recalled the bright figure cradling you out of the small boat before you passed out again.

  Rhys looked bewildered. He opened his mouth to speak but instead shook his head and got up. "I'll be back- I need to speak to someone. There are two Wraiths that keep the house functioning, feel free to call upon them if you need anything." His face was shrouded in darkness as he frowned, walked to the hall and out the front door. 

You got up after him as best you could, still dizzy from whatever medicaiton they had given you. He stood on the front step only a few seconds before darkness enveloped his entire body. And you swore you saw a darker wall of wings envelope him before he was full shrouded.

  without a glance back he disappeared into a black shadow. Worry tugged at your stomach.

[blue-bird-kny]

Day 3: Operation Mistletoe

Happy day 3 with Genya! In my head I just imagined him moving around like a ninja so this was hilarious to write lol ~Amanda

Warning: Cussing and suggestive themes (aged up ofc)

( 850 words)

↳ {In which Genya tries to avoid your holiday thirst traps, ultimately failing}

You walked steadfast, a cheshire grin eating away at your features with just the tiniest glint of mischief in your eyes. Your feet unconsciously carried you home from the market, a brown paper bag grasped tightly against your chest, the brightly colored contents spilling out from the top. Shimmering tinsel, lush wreaths, and other holiday nik-naks weighed the bag down, however they all almost paled in comparison to one particular item you spent a pretty penny on; mistletoe in all shapes and length lay tucked away carefully in your pocket. Your plan was simple: trap Genya in a maze of mistletoe around your home, leaving him no choice but to provide you with the endless kisses you’ve been longing for. As you hung the plants in random spots, above doorways and on window pans, a small part of you felt bad; you respected Genya and his aversion to PDA, however you had to remind yourself this was different because he was protected by the walls of the house. You stepped off the stool to admire your work, not a single room safe from your tactic.  “It's perfect”- Genya had no clue what he was coming home to.

The next morning you woke bright and early, throwing together a delicious spread of all of Genya’s favorite foods, the rich scent of savory dishes wafting throughout the house and pouring out the window you definitely didn't leave open on purpose. “What’s the celebration? You never feed me this well” Genya let himself in, shaking off his snow covered boots to shut out the chill the open door was letting in. You rushed over, waiting expectantly as if Genya would somehow read the signs, “What the hell you lookin’ at like that?” his brows furrowed over his dark eyes in confusion. “Don’t you see the mistletoe hanging above us? Take a hint and pay up” you leaned closer to his quickly reddening face, eyes locked in a staring contest. The cogs turned in Genya’s brain as he rushed to find an out in this situation when it hit him. “Pipe down Pipsqueak, there’s no rule saying I have to kiss ya’ where you want” he smugly pointed out, shoving you off your tip-toes gently, placing a chaste peck on the crown of your hair, “Let’s eat, I’m fucking starving.”- Attempt one: semi-fail.

Genya was not one to be easily fooled, dodging each hanging plant skillfully, denying you of the one pleasure you’d worked so hard to achieve. “Genya could you please help me bring something inside!” you called, luring your boyfriend out into where he was defenseless. Warm breath heated your neck as he spoke, “I’m not stupid” you screamed in surprise at Genya’s voice behind you. “You almost killed me!” you pointed an accusing finger at your asshole boyfriend, who’s patronizing smirk left you blushing and embarrassed. Why was he even outside anyway?! Second attempt: major failure, plus he scared you shitless.

Eventually the sun buried itself below the horizon, welcoming the dim glow of the full-moon in its wake. With little resistance, you persuaded Genya to stay the night on the condition that you take down all the “annoying pieces of crap” you had scattered. Genya was already fast asleep beside you, his protective hold pressing you against his chest, “You’re too smart for your own good” you thought bitterly, studying the curves of his face. He looked younger when he slept; his features free of the usual scowl he wore and clean of any discretion or discoloration, save for the scar that ran over the bridge of his nose, “It's a good thing you’re good looking” a fond smile graced your lips. Out of the corner of your eye, the blue light filtering in from the window illuminated a familiar red from above your futon. “Genyaaa~” you prodded gently, drawing your fingers through his unruly treases and over his pink scar, maybe you could have one last attempt after all. His nose wrinkled at the feel of your nails against his skin, his lids begrudgingly lifting to reveal a pair of irritated, dark orbs. “What do you want?” his voice was deeper, horse from sleep, “I think you missed one” you teased referring to the last string of mistletoe. “You’re a moron, a complete dumbass” he wore a straight-face as he sat up onto his elbows.

“Come on, please! I promise I’ll be satisfied for the rest of the night” you jutted your lip out in a childish pout, silently pleading with your eyes. Genya thought for a moment, chuckling at your antics. His torso hung over yours, palm cupping the nape of your neck, carrying you closer till his lips ghosted against your awaiting pair. The first kiss was brief, his rough pair dancing against your softer ones, before pulling away too soon, your back arching off the bed in a desperate attempt to follow his warmth. His other hand slithered onto your hip as he crawled on top, growling “Don’t worry, I’ll leave you satisfied for a week.”

Holiday Event Masterlist

[early2000smovieimagines]

Meeting and Dating Royce Clayton

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(I know the walls are supposed to be soundproof so I’m just gonna pretend that the ghosts can make you hear what they want when they want.)

- Being related to Cyrus had it’s perks …you supposed. You were aware of his “eccentric” work so when he died; let’s pretend he really did die, you were given the haunted house of hell. 

- Considering Cyrus was dead and you would be living in his home alone; and possibly because his “lawyer” found you attractive, you were made well aware of what you would be getting into …but in this economy? 

- Truth be told, you didn’t quite believe the lawyer when he told you that ghosts were being held prisoner in the home. You knew that Cyrus worked in the paranormal but you didn’t expect the reality of your situation; the fact that there were tangible entities locked up in your basement, so when you were brought down there and told to put on the glasses …well, lets just say it was a shock. 

- So there you are, walking tentatively behind the lawyer as he acts tough, making jokes and borderline flirting with you; though you aren’t paying much attention to what he’s saying. The ghosts glared as they watched the two of you, well, most glared, others stared or watched with sick interest. 

- You were so focused on watching the leering Jackal that you hadn’t even noticed the other figure that had suddenly materialized beside it. It wasn’t until you’d felt another set of eyes on you that you noticed; out of the corner of your eye, that the cage you were standing next to was no longer empty. 

- Gasping, you whipped your head around and found yourself nearly nose to nose; separated by glass, with the one and only Torn Prince. 

- The lawyer made a joking comment behind you about the ghost and said apparitions grin faltered as his eyes flickered towards the other man who guided you away from the cage with a hand. And, soon enough, you were being led back up the stairs, leaving the angry spirits behind you. 

- The thing about living in a “haunted house” is that you can’t just pretend that it isn't; as much as you may try. After living a perfectly average and sometimes boring life, the thought of having tangible evidence of ghosts is your very own forbidden fruit ...so soon enough you return to the basement. 

- Initially, you were obviously drawn to the more grizzly and disturbed individuals; perhaps occasionally the sadder ones if it was one of those days, but it was only a matter of time before you found yourself fixated on one ghost in particular; maybe if only for said spirits fixation on you. 

- Every time you went downstairs ...there he was ...staring at you. A part of you was scared but another part of you ...the lonely, horny part of you ...sort of liked it.

- He only ever stared. Never swung at you, never acted aggressive, never even glared. He just ...stared.

- There’d been a few days where you waited to see what he’d do, sat down on the floor in front of his cell and resigned yourself to watching him back. He’d smile at you then, smile and walk around his cell, glancing back you every now and again to see if you were still watching.

- After some time, he’d mirror your position on the floor and watch you back with the same amount of intensity for as long as you sat there. Any attempt you made at speaking to him was futile, he never answered, not until about a month after you moved in.

- You’d had a busy week, busy enough that observing ghosts was the last thing on your mind. Well, the spirits were the last thing on your mind until you were going to bed and heard a harsh banging coming from somewhere in the house.

- Your immediate thought was that someone was breaking in; as implausible as that was, and so, you hesitantly picked up something hard and began to investigate.

- The farther from your room you got, the more you realized that it wasn’t coming from anywhere anyone could get in from, it was coming from the basement. With a sigh of relief yet a bit annoyed, you crept down the steps and looked for the culprit.

- Royce; it was obviously Royce, his chest heaved slightly as he panted from the effort of his actions (does he even need to breathe). You folded your arms and met his eyes as you stood in front of his cell.

“You do realize it’s nearly midnight, right?” He merely watched you like he always did.

“Okay,” you said, sighing and nodding your head at his silence. “Okay, yeah.”

- You turned from him and began to walk away before something stopped you. Before he stopped you.

“You look like a dream.” He’d called out as your back was turned and you immediately froze.

- Turning around, you eyed him in surprise, watching as he stared and toyed with his bat. As any rational; or perhaps not so rationally, person would, you backpedaled and stopped in front of his cell again.

“You just talked,” you stated before furrowing you’re brows and clearing your head with a shake. “What did you say?”

“You. Look. Like. A dream.” He emphasized each word with a step forward.

“This is incredible.” You spoke in disbelief.

“Thank you.” He’d replied with a bit of a grin.

- And thus, you began to speak with him quite often, whenever you could really. He was charming, cocky and confident in his own right; even though he was dead. You liked him, even if it was strange.

- That being said, when he asked you to let him out ...you were hesitant. You’d been warned against trusting the spirits so your immediate thought was that he’d been trying to fool you into releasing him all along. You’d quickly excused yourself and kept away from the basement for a bit of time, thinking the whole thing through.

- After some time, you’d decided that you’d take the chance, crept downstairs, carefully unlocked the door to his; you’d checked it to make sure about seven times, cell and let him out.

- You slowly stepped out into the hall after you did so, watching as he walked out of the glass cage with a smile. Your heart beat harder and harder as he gazed at his surroundings before focusing on and approaching you.

- Before you knew it, he was in front of you, his cold hand reaching out and trailing down your arm.

“Why don’t we go upstairs?” You whispered and he met your eyes, smiling in response.

- The two of you shared your first kiss about a week or so after you let him out of his cage. That lawyer had called you as the two of you were sitting together and after a minute or so of you speaking to him; and Royce hearing his attempt to ask you out leaving his mouth, the ghost had pressed his lips to yours.

- In an instant, the phone was forgotten and the lawyers attempt to get you for himself was ruined.

- But while your relationship with the living man was killed before it even began, your relationship with the spirit was only just beginning.

- As we saw, Royce can’t leave your home; not unless he’s released for good, so pda isn’t exactly possible. He’s an indoor boyfriend that can only really give you affection when you’re alone.

- Touchy, touchy, touchy. He’s been alone for a long time and was only about seventeen when he died so he’s at that “prime age” for being a horny, little bastard man.

- Cold touches and kisses. He’s dead so....

- Cheek strokes.

- Coaxing kisses; especially when you first start dating.

- Having kisses peppered across your face and body.

- Feeling a cool weight against some part of you and just knowing that it’s him.

- Sitting on his lap. I assume that it’s possible if he can touch you, right?

- Making out and heavy petting. He’s a bit of a whore for you.

- Occasionally, he’ll ask you to take off “those stupid glasses” so that he can see you as you are and look at your face up close. It’s a vulnerable, intimate sort of moment for the two of you when you don’t know what he’s thinking or how he’s looking at you; and he’s just full on lovestruck staring at you.

- He calls you a few pet names; things like “doll” “kitten” and “angel”, but when hes in a more serious mood, he just sticks to your name.

- He likes to spoon you from behind when you’re cuddling. He likes having you pressed right up against him.

- Him just rubbing your legs when you’re sitting together because you’re soft and he’s completely in love.

- Jumping and jolting because of random cold touches on your bare skin.

- Getting thrown over his shoulder. Even in death, he’s strong and agile as shit.

- Dressing up in 1950s clothing every once in a while just to surprise him. He nearly cried the first time you did. He got all misty eyed and his voice got that stuck in your throat, emotional tone to it; the image is burned in your memory.

- Having him teach you old school dances. He likes watching you fumble around and giggle shyly; he thinks it’s adorable.

- Listening to stories about his life. You can’t help but feel a little melancholy seeing the way his eyes sparkle and the smile that finds its way onto his face as he relives those little past experiences.

- Taking photos of his beloved ballfield and other places for him to see how they changed over the years.

- Letting him tell you baseball facts and recount the different games that he listened to over the radio or saw in the stadium.

- The first time you held his bat (not a poorly hidden innuendo) was borderline erotic for him. A pretty girl touching his prized possession and paying close, careful attention to it? His mouth went dry and he needed a little recovery time before he could speak.

- Movies and tv dates.

- Picnics and candlelit dates in one of your huge, empty glass rooms.

- Laying on the floor together, holding hands and staring up at the clouds through your skylights.

- Please give him a compliment; he wants your praise so badly. You’re literally perfect and he’s got half his face burnt off, he’s a little self conscious.

- He’s sort of shy about his face. He doesn’t like you looking at “it” too much but at the same time, he also gets insecure when you don't look at him. Just try to look at him without focusing on the …burnt side; at least at the beginning of your relationship.

- Being welcomed home by a whispering noise and a pair of glasses coming skidding towards you on the floor.

- Randomly just getting the faint smell of smoke, coldness, and old cologne; or just being able to smell that whenever you’re near him.

- It’s probably not best to have guests over. He’ll be in your ear the entire time, asking you who’s who and trying to make you talk to him, and I doubt most people would handle accidentally seeing a ghost loose in your house; and learning that he’s your boyfriend.

- Calming him down and trying to keep him that way when he gets a rush of anger.

- Cradling his head to your chest/stomach as he’s on his knees, his whole body heaving while he pants and tries to not destroy your house in a fit of rage over something. Royce is a ...troubled individual.

- Given his past, one can assume that Royce is a sort of impulsive. You might have to try and convince him to think things through. Though how much harm can he really do at this point, right?

- He’s dead and your alive, he’s stuck in your inherited house and you wander the streets alone. Your relationship is complex and admittedly difficult, how couldn't he get jealous?

- Royce sort of gets jealous of everyone, just to varying degrees. Your family and friends are meh; he’s more so just envious of them at times but he doesn’t start problems over them. It’s when people; usually men, who aren’t related to or aren't completely platonic with you come around that he actually gets jealous and contemplates …getting rid of them.

- You’re living in a house full of spirits that most likely want to murder you ...and then you’re going into the real world where literally anything could happen to you and he wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing. Of course he’s protective of you!

- That being said, a dark part of him sort of wishes that something would happen to you, not because he wants you to be hurt or because he doesn’t love you, but because he loves you so much. Your relationship is hard for the both of you but he’s the one that can be completely deserted if you chose to leave. He always feels extremely guilty after those thoughts but rest assured, he still has them sometimes.

- The two of you have quite a few fights, he’s just that kind of person. Most of the time it’s stupid bickering but depending on what you’re fighting about, he can get really angry, raising his voice and yelling, maybe making threats; which is when you leave and lock him away behind you.

- When you’re angry at him, all you have to do is take off the glasses and stay in your room …but god he hates it. He gets so, so angry whenever you do ...until his anger morphs into a sort of fear; a fear of you really getting sick of him. As silly as it may be, he can’t help but grow nervous, wondering whether you’re ever going to acknowledge him again.

- He’ll watch you as you go about your day, initially throwing a few tantrums, yelling at you and banging on walls with his bat. He’ll wait for you to forget to close a door or when you willingly leave one open and hesitantly come in, calling out your name in such a depressing tone that you can’t help but feel bad and accept his apology.

- He doesn’t tell you he loves you extremely often but he does say it; usually during very sincere and sweet moments. It’s always memorable whenever he says it.

- You might not know what the future entails but you’re enjoying each other’s company and that’s all that matters, isn’t it?