#i interrupted my studies to reblog my bro's post

[sincerelyella]

Last Minute Plans

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Pairings: Liam x MC (Ella)

Characters belong to Pixelberry: Ella Brooks belongs to me.

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs and notes are welcome and much appreciated.

Summary: An AU based on the show New Girl (my favorite can you tell??) Just a collection of one-shots and shenanigans that allude to the show. This will NOT be canon, that means this won’t be in Cordonia and Liam isn’t a King. If you have watched the show before, you know they are in Los Angeles, California. Catch up on The Loft here

A/N: Finally posting something for @choicesflashfics​ this week and it’s my favorite AU that I’ve written so far. Prompt will be in bold. 

A/N 2: It’s been a very long time since I’ve written anything - mostly because work has been crazy and studying related to work has also taken up a lot of my time. My taglist is very old so feel free to ignore should you not want to read this mess lol

Thank you @deb-1106 for reading through this a bit, I love you!

Ratings/Warnings: M - mature content; adult language; sexual innuendos; some overall inappropriateness because it’s the Loft 🤷🏽‍♀️

Words: 1215

Liam paced back and forth as Drake, Max and Leo followed him, all of their heads going right to left and right to left, and back again.

Leo broke the silence. “Bro, what’s wrong with you?”

Liam stopped and gave his friends and brother a confused look. “When did you guys get here?”

“Are you serious right now?” Drake stood and walked towards his best friend. “Li, why are you pacing the floor?”

“Oh, I …” he looked at the floor and then back up at Drake. “I want to propose to Ella.”

Everyone gasped, while Leo and Max stood from the couch.

Maxwell clapped his hands in excitement. “You are?!”

“How? Where’s the ring? When is this happening?!” Leo yelled as he hopped up and down.

“Relax, relax,” Drake hollered over everyone’s voices as he turned to his best friend. “Do you need help with anything?”

“I got her a ring already,” Liam pulled a black velvet box out of his pocket and opened it. “I’m just not sure when or how to do it. Maybe tomorrow?”

Leo snatched the box out of his brother’s hand. “Whoaaaa, this thing is fat!”

“Real helpful, Leo,” Drake mumbled. “You know Ella is crazy about you. Any way you ask her she’s going to cry.”

Liam ran his hands through his thick blonde hair nervously. “You think?”

“Good tears!” Max interrupted.

Drake nodded. “Really good tears.”

“Remember when we didn’t even think this whole Liam and Ella thing was going to happen?” Leo elbowed Max’s side.

“Yeah, we had our doubts.”

“Wait, what?” Liam’s eyes narrowed.

“You guys just kept breaking up and getting back together!” Max shrugged and looked to Leo for backup.

“I mean, there was the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre-”

“No, no,” Max shook his head. “I think it was the Comic-con Dump-A-Thon.”

“You have names for our breakups?” Liam retorted in annoyance.

Leo nodded. “It would really all blur together if we didn’t.”

A year and a half earlier

“You are so annoying in those little sexy shorts you wear! Just shut up!”

Ella’s hands were on his hips yanking him close to her. “You shut up!”

They began to kiss again, tongues tangling and curling together for a few moments until Liam pulled away. “Shut up and take off your clothes,” he pointed at her. “I mean it, Ella, shut up and take off your clothes right now,” he demanded as he pulled his own shirt off, kicked off his shoes and unbuckled his belt.

She huffed and began to pull off her jacket in purposeful motions. “Why are you so ridiculous and chaotic? You can’t even tell me how you feel!”

Liam’s eyes darkened with desire. “I’ll tell you how I feel right now. I want you,” his mouth collided with hers as he swallowed her moans. “I’ve wanted you from the moment you walked into this loft. Now take off your clothes, Ella.”

Max strolled down the hall eating a banana and stopped short when he saw Liam and Ella getting lost in each other in the living room. Drake, who was walking right behind him, bumped into his back and dropped his phone onto the floor with a clang. “Beaumont!”

“Shhh!” Max flailed his arms and pushed his friend back, shushing him as he went.

“I want my bagel, Beaumont! It just popped up from the toaster and if I wait too long it gets too hard,” Drake whined.

“Drake! It’s 10 at night and you’re eating a bagel?” Max shook his head and pushed him into his bedroom. “Don’t answer that,” he huffed and stuck his ear against the door. “Did you see Liam and Ella?! They were finally getting it on!”

Drake smacked Maxwell in the back of the head. “You’re listening to them fucking? And why are they fucking in our living room?!”

Present day

“Okay, we did not have sex in the living room!”

Drake rolled his eyes. “Well we didn’t know that, Li!”

“You two just went back and forth, kissing and then yelling at each other,” Max casually walked into the kitchen to grab an apple. “Like the time we all went to that speed dating event.”

A year ago

“Why did you bring me here?” Drake hissed as his eyes darted around the room. “I knew this was shady as fuck!”

“Shut up, Walker, all we said was there would be good whiskey and you got in the car,” Leo snickered.

“I need new friends,” Drake mumbled as he wandered off in search of said whiskey.

Max surveyed the room. “Where are Ella and Hana?”

Leo shrugged. “No idea but that blonde over there has me written all over her.”

“That’s not how speed dating works, Leo!” Max grabbed his friend’s arm to keep him in place. “Where did Liam and Ella go?”

Leo turned his head and jutted his chin out. “They’re over there bickering by the entrance.”

Maxwell’s eyes widened. “Shit. If looks could kill-”

“They’d both be dead,” Leo finished as they both made their way to the doors to hear better.

Liam and Ella stood with their arms crossed as they faced each other.

“El, you liked kissing me. It’s totally fine to say that,” Liam whisper yelled. “I’m not on my knees asking you to marry me for God’s sake! It was a nice kiss.”

Ella’s eyes were like daggers as she stared at him. ”You were like a dog and my mouth was full of dog … milk. Don’t start with me William!”

The fact that she said his full name made him snap and forget about the people around them. “It was like a damn fairy tale okay?!” He bellowed. “It was the best kiss of your life! You have to take some responsibility, tarting around in those short shorts!”

Leo and Max snorted.

“Wait a second. Pause and rewind … what did you just say?”

Liam’s nostrils flares. “I am a man, Ella! Short shorts are my catnip.”

Present day

“You heard that?” Liam asked with wide eyes. “So much for privacy,” he grumbled. “It was a frustrating time for me okay?”

“It really doesn’t matter,” Leo waved his hand in the air. “You guys have been strong together and now you want to marry her,” he slapped his hands over his heart. “The real question is … who is going to be your best man?”

“That would be me,” Drake slid his eyes to Liam for confirmation.

“Well I-“

Leo cleared his throat loudly. “Excuse me, but I think it would be me, Walker Whiny Pants. I’m his brother.”

Drake’s face turned slightly red in aggravation at the nickname. “You’re out of your fucking mind, Rys Potato Chips!”

“What’s with the nicknames?” Max piped up from his seat on the couch.

Liam waved his arms in the air. “We have digressed so far down the rabbit hole. I just want to plan how I’m going to propose! Can any of you buffoons help me with that without arguing?”

“Alright, alright,” Leo yanked a large whiteboard out from behind the tv along with a stand and dry erase markers.

Drake’s eyes widened. “Have those been back there the whole time?”

“My room was full,” Leo explained with a large grin. “Let’s plan this shit!”

[mmilkbreadd]

Chapter twenty five: “The End”

Masterpost - Prev.

Warning(s): a bit of swearing ; post-timeskip manga spoilers!!

────────∘°❉°∘────────

Or aka, ‘The Sakusa Kiyoomi Theory’

Act One: “Who is Sakusa Kiyoomi?”

Saturday, 6:23 am, “y/n's home”

“You're late,” said y/n with crossed arms, she was already waiting for him at the door of her house. “I hope this doesn't become routine.”

It was already morning in the streets of Paris. Tendou Satori and her neighbor (and best friend), y/n l/n, were walking towards their famous bakery and chocolate shop, ‘Sweet Strawberries.’ It was a small place with a few tables to sit for tea and delicious things to eat. Also, although it was small, it was quite crowded.

“Woah, how angry you are today, little baker... More than usual, actually” y/n shook her head at her friend's comment. “But obviously I already know why, and it seems that you know why too.”

Y/n decided to ignore what Satori had said, and keep walking quite ahead of him. It was still an hour before the store opened, but they already had several orders that were due to deliver around nine in the morning. A three-tier wedding cake, forty heart-shaped chocolates for the anniversary of a married couple, and of course, the strawberry cake for someone named Sakusa Kiyoomi.

Around a quarter to seven, they arrived at the bakery, and they got down to work to get all the orders completed on time. 

Tendou was more dedicated to the chocolate part, of course, and to serve customers. Despite y/n had advanced a lot in terms of her social skills, she still needed to learn a little about how to communicate normally with a person.

“That 'Sakusa Kiyoomi' has a Japanese name, do you think he is too?” y/n asked, wiping flour from her hands.

“I don't know, they could be. But doesn't that name sound too familiar to you?”  Satori replied.

“That's exactly what I was thinking!”

“Weird.”

“Yeah... Anyway, the customer asked not to make the chocolate so bitter so add more milk to that please.”

“Yes, boss!” Satori made a military signal and continued his work.

Act Two: “Pretending to be Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

8:39 am, “Paris” (?)

Bokuto Koutarou, along with Miya Atsumu and Hinata Shoyo were lost in Paris. They had circled the Eiffel Tower at least five times. But it seemed they hadn't realized it yet.

They were more lost than Bokuto studying math. But a simple city would not defeat them so easily... would it?

“Maybe we should have brought Sakusa,” Hinata said after round number six.

“And hear him complain about how dirty everything is? No thanks,” Atsumu Miya replied, shaking his head. “We don't need Omi-Omi. I, Miya Atsumu, am enough to know where we are.”

Atsumu put a hand on his chest, pretending to be offended. Bokuto and Hinata looked around, ignoring the enormous tower behind them, wondering where they were.

“And where are we then?”

“Paris, of course” he replied. “I can’t believe you’re seriously asking that, Shoyo.”

Hinata and Bokuto looked at each other, unable to believe what their teammate was saying.

“Sure…” Bokuto said, getting his phone out of his pocket. It was time to be the serious person of the trio. “Akaashi, we got lost” and that time was now over. Koutarou was crying as he spoke to his friend, who was on another continent. “No, I can't stop crying, Akaashi. I swear I was following the steps you wrote on the map so we wouldn't get lost, but Atsumu wanted to take the lead, so he broke the instructions, and we don’t know where we are. It's all his fault...! No, Sakusa has not come either.”

“Hey! It wasn't my fault,” the dyed blonde complained, crossing his arms. “And we never needed Omi-Omi!”

“Okay, Akaashi, I'll do it. Bye, love you… As a bro of course” Bokuto finished saying and hung up. “He told me I have to call Tendou. Is the only way.”

Hinata started shaking his head from side to side, while Atsumu slapped his forehead with his hand. Then a message came from Keiji; It was the number of Tendou Satori himself. Bokuto started dialing the numbers that appeared on the screen of his phone, on Hinata's.

“Wait wait, shouldn't I speak? He might recognize your voice” Hinata said, awkwardly taking the phone from Bokuto's hands. 

“He would also recognize yours, Shoyo. I'll do it.” Atsumu snatched the device from him and pressed the call button. “Hello, sir, what’s up? I'm Sakusa Kiyoomi, could you help me get to your store? I'm a bit lost... How did I get your number you ask? Eh– It's on your website dude! You should delete it, some people pretend to be someone else and you should not fall for that...”

Act Three: “If Sakusa Kiyoomi was real, we should have brought him.”

10:04 am, “Sweet Strawberries Bakery and Chocolate Shop”

“I can't believe it took us almost two hours to get here! It wasn't even that far from the hotel” Hinata said looking towards the building that was a few meters in front of them.

“Six blocks. Can’t believe it either.” Atsumu wiped the sweat from his brow. “And now that? Are we going in or not?”

Bokuto went pale. He was going to see you, after so many years without communicating or having exchanged glances. He never imagined that he would see you again after that cold day in Miyagi. He had made a thousand scenarios in his head of how you two meet again: in some distant future you visit your hometown and he visits Hinata, and thus you meet in the park or on the street. You would have your own family, and he would have his. But that would happen in many years, not now. Not at this moment, when neither of you had grown enough... When he hadn't managed to forget you yet. But these weren't Koutarou's inventions, this was reality.

The incredible and stupid reality.

“I don't want to go in,” Bokuto said suddenly and stopped walking. “I’m not ready.”

Atsumu, who was already one step away from the door, turned to see him. Hinata collided with Miya's chest because he was walking right behind him.

“What are you talking about? Let's go in now” Atsumu said walking towards the ex-owl. “We didn't change the whole tour just so you don't go see your little girlfriend… We change it so you do! Don't be scared, do it now or you'll regret it for life. I remember how you talked about her during practice, and I even want to meet her after that! Come on dude, use the little braveness you have left.”

It seemed that Atsumu's words, or Hinata's smile next to him, made Bokuto take courage and head towards the entrance of the shop. 

A bell rang before three pairs of feet echoed through the small place. There was a great smell of chocolate that invaded every inch of the establishment. Hinata paced around the place until the sound of a door opening made the three teammates turn their heads to where the sound was coming from.

“Welcome, what can I offer-- So all of you are Sakusa Kiyoomi, huh?” Satori Tendou said, coming out of the back-room. “You see guys, I never believed this would happen. It makes me think a lot too… So, is Sakusa Kiyoomi even real?”

Atsumu, Hinata, and Bokuto were paralyzed in place for several seconds. The former Shiratorizawa monster stood with his hands on his hips, staring at them.

“Is it Sakusa Kiyoomi? Tell him I'm coming in a minute!” y/n yelled from the back room.

“Oh no, y/n, it’s someone much better!” Tendou replied, holding back his laughter. “You won't believe it even if you see this!”

Then, silence took over the place until a few quick steps interrupted it. A figure appeared through the door, with several boxes in their hands. A pile of boxes so big it covered their face.

“Help me, Satori, I'm going to fall” y/n complained, and after Tendou took out the boxes that covered her view, she saw her friend smiling widely. “What?”

Satori, who couldn't contain his laughter anymore, gestured with his head towards the three statues in the middle of the place. And finally, seeing her friend's face, he started to laugh out loud.

“Kou?”

“A-and Hinata!” shouted Bokuto nervously. Shoyo looked at him and then pointed at Atsumu.

“And also Atsumu!”

“And Saku– shit, we should have brought Omi-Omi after all…”

───∘°❉°∘───

────────∘°❉°∘────────

Note: I am very very very very sorry for not posting this sooner, but I had thousand of things going on in my life. Now I’m better and ready to finish this beautiful, and crazy, love-story.

I hope you loved it as much as I did. I truly enjoyed it writing, and I’m happy to finish it too.

I’ll appreciate it a lot if you comment down below what you thought about the series. I’ll read you later -Tina.

────────∘°❉°∘────────

Tags in reblog!

Thanks for reading🥰

[randomfandomimagine]

Kind (Jesse Pinkman x Reader)

Characters: Jesse Pinkman

Fandom: Breaking Bad

Tags: Reader Insert, Female Reader 

Warnings: Sad, dark, mature, drug mention, swearing, abusive home

Word Count: 1,5k words

Requested by @im-just-star-dust​: Hi, could u write about how Jesse finds a girl while at the methheads house from season 2? He befriends her and the little boy, and takes them to his house. Both children are almost mutes, so jesse teaches them how to speak, write and read. The girl trusts jesse since hes the only one whos nice to her other then her brother. The two form a close friendship, and soon a sort of unspoken romance.

A/N: This is my first BB/Jesse writing, yay! I shortened and changed your original request a bit to fit, but I hope you still like! Thank you again for requesting :)

A knock at the door interrupted your crying. Looking at your little brother, you waited and listened. The knocking continued, so you stood from the bed. Trying not to scare him, you smiled and stroked his head.

“Stay here, sweetie” You whispered, to which he only nodded. Honestly, you weren’t expecting him to talk after that long.

Silently leaving the room and closing the door behind you, you stood in the livingroom. A figure moved slowly amongst the mess that was the floor. You were done trying to tidy it up, because the next day you found it worse than when you started.

“Yo!” The man shouted, and you sneakily moved to grab the bat leaning against the door. “Anybody home?” 

You noticed he wielded something in his hands before him, so you tried to take him by surprise. Emerging from the shadows, you swung your bat and knocked the gun out of his hands.

“Shit!” He muttered, covering his head once he was left unarmed. 

It wasn’t the first time someone broke into your house, and while sometimes they would just get whatever they wanted and run, they had never blatantly called out asking if someone was home.

“Wait, wait!” The young man begged you. “I wasn’t gonna use it! Yo, drop the bat! I’m not gonna hurt you!” 

You breathed heavily, but decided to leave off him. Not that you liked hurting people anyway. You backed off, still kicking the gun away from his reach. He didn’t try to retrieve it. 

Taking a better look at him, you realized he wasn’t that much older than you. He wore lose clothes and a beanie. His fair blue eyes studied you, and you averted your gaze, uncomfortable with his scrutiny.

“Uh...” He rubbed his shoulder, there where you had hit him. “Your folks home?”

You shook your head, still glancing at the ground. Honestly, you preferred to be home alone. At least that way you could have some peace and quiet. Even if the overwhelming helplessness never left you.

“When will they be back?” The young man tried again, but you only shrugged. “Okay, uh... Yo, what’s your name?” 

You didn’t reply, holding on to the bat so tightly that your hands hurt. 

“I’m... My name’s Jesse” He awkwardly told you. “Mind if I wait here?”

He got no reply from you, not even a gesture or a glance. Jesse sighed.

“You, uh...” Moving slowly, he reached out to take the bat from your hands. “You won’t need that, I promise”

You whimpered as soon as he came close, so he immediately backed away again. Holding his hands up, he apologized to you.

“Sorry! Keep it if you want, you...” His eyes looked you up and down again. “Jesus...” 

When you looked up at him to see what had alarmed him, you saw him taking his hoodie off. When he handed it to you, you were reminded of the clothes you were wearing. Old, tattered and literally falling to pieces. 

“Take it” He insisted, still not walking any closer. “It’s okay” 

Timorous, you reached out to take it, being careful not to brush your hand against his. You put the hoodie on and found a great comfort in it. It was too big for you, but it was almost new. And it was warm and cozy.

“I’ll just...” He awkwardly fixed his yellow shirt, which was also big and loose. “I’ll sit over there” 

You watched him as he went to sit on the couch. Just then, the door to the room opened and your little brother came out. Instinctively, you went to hug him against your stomach. 

“Man...” Jesse mumbled with a sigh. “Want me to call someone?” 

You could read it in his eyes, the meaning behind his words. He didn’t really want to say it in front of the kid, but... He didn’t mean just someone. The cops. He was already pulling his phone out of his pocket when you loudly whimpered.

He immediately looked up at you, noticing the panicked expression in your face. Pressing your brother tighter against you, you shook your head at Jesse.

“Oh” He muttered, peering at the two of you. “Right... I... Shouldn’t do that, huh?”

You nodded, slightly calmer seeing as he didn’t want you to be apart either. If the cops came, you would be put in a foster’s home. And they would separate you. You didn’t want to leave your brother alone after everything your parents put you through. He was too little anyway.

Gasping, you felt your brother escaping out of your grasp. However, instead of trying to hurt him, Jesse just curiously watched him as he went to turn the TV on.

That stupid knife program was on again, like always. The only thing you could ever watch. Your brother walked to the couch, too naive to be scared of a stranger. Hurrying to protect him, you sat down in the couch and put your brother on your lap. Your arms protectively fell around him.

Jesse, at the other end of the couch, stared at you. With the corner of your eye, you recognized the empathy in his gaze. 

“Yo, I, uh...” He began to say. “I just have some stuff to sort out with your folks, and then I’ll go” 

Still wary about him, you eyed him carefully. A friendly smile appeared on his face. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw someone genuinely smile, let alone yourself. It was... uplifting.

“I know you don’t even know me, but... You could come with me and I’ll try to help you out” His voice was so kind and gentle that it brought tears to your eyes.

Only bad people had ever come to your house. Thiefs, addicts, dangerous people. Ones that didn’t want anything to do with you, and if they did it was to get a hit. To make a deal with your parents.

“I mean, I get it if you don’t want to” He continued, still keeping the distances. “But man, fu... eff your parents” 

You continued to be quiet and check on your brother. He didn’t pay attention to the conversation, absently watching the TV.

“No?” Jesse gently insisted. “That’s okay... I get it”

Tears suddenly welled up in your eyes. You couldn’t exactly tell why, you were just overwhelmed. 

“I...” Jesse’s head whipped towards you at the sound of your voice. “Y/N”

“What?” 

“Name’s Y/N” 

“Yo... Good to meet you, Y/N” 

He offered his hand, still bearing a smile. You dared to take it. Gently, he shook your hand. He didn’t hurt you. You tried to hold back your sobs, not wanting to worry your brother. It was difficult, since you had been holding in for literal years. And now that someone showed you a hint of compassion and kindness, you crumbled.

“Hey...” Jesse whispered, gingerly putting a hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay”

You sniffed as silently as you could, being strangely comforted by his hand kindly rubbing your arm. 

“Y/N” He softly told you. “How ‘bout I buy you a burger after, huh?” 

You gawked at him, the tears freezing in your eyes. Was he really that nice? 

“Yeah! As soon as I talk with your folks, I’ll take you and your lil bro to have a bite” He smiled to reassure you. “Whatcha say?”  

You nodded your head, feeling excited for the first time in forever. Going out, eating a warm delicious burger. It sounded so good. 

“Yeah? Cool” Jesse squeezed your arm before letting go of you, and you found yourself missing his comforting touch. “We’ll just-” 

He was interrupted when the door opened. The noise, as usual, brought a pit in your stomach. The loud voices had returned. Jesse tensed up as well. 

“Hide in your room, and take the kid” He urged you, kindly tugging at the fabric of the hoodie. “Trust me, c’mon” 

Knowing what business your parents got up to, you stood from the couch, carrying your brother. Not entirely sure what would happen, though, you lingered.

“Go, I won’t hurt them, I promise” He nodded his head to the side, and you knew that’s where the gun was left forgotten. “That thing’s empty” 

“J-Jesse...” You stuttered, hesitant to leave.

“Wait for me, ‘kay?” He warmly smiled. “I owe you a burger”

You nibbled on your bottom lip, truly hoping he was as kind as he seemed to be. 

After all, he had respected your space. Didn’t force you to talk, avoided swearing in front of your brother, gave you his hoodie and even tried to comfort you. You really wanted to believe in his kindness, so you did as he said and returned to your room.

If you want to be added to the tag list to be notified when I post for these fandoms or characters, let me know!! // Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

[quicksilversquared]

Adrien on a Stick

When Adrien can't make it to yet another one of their outings, his friends have to get creative.

And then they get silly.

links in the reblog

"Dude! Your father said no again? What's his issue?"

Adrien winced and shrugged at the incredulous look on his friend's face. "I don't know! I mean, he hasn't ever let me go out on every outing ever, but this...?"

"He's kept you from practically every single one of our get-togethers lately!" Nino exploded. "And he hasn't even given you a reason why! Like, hey, you're behind on piano practice or there's a make-up photo shoot for that one Hawkmoth interrupted, or, or- there's not even a bullshit excuse!"

Adrien groaned, unable to keep his exasperation in for once. "I know! And I've tried pressing Nathalie for why he thinks that I shouldn't go out, but all she says is 'it's what your father wants'. Which is annoying. Like, why does he want it? It's not like he wants to spend the time with me or anything."

Nino just shook his head. They had just made plans to go to a fair that had come to Paris, and it looked like a ton of fun. The four of them had been really excited about it and had made plans about what rides they would go on and where they would eat and the activities they would try. Alya had gotten her parents to agree to let her off the hook for babysitting for that evening, Nino had gotten permission to go, Marinette had let her parents know her plans-

-and Adrien had been told no. Again. For absolutely no reason at all.

"Like, is he afraid that you'll clog your arteries on deep-fried doughnuts or something?" Nino was on a roll. "Or that you'll make yourself sick on cotton candy? You'll get a clown face done at one of the stations and end up in the papers? Like, we could even have your bodyguard come along with us. He's cool."

"Father needs him that afternoon, apparently. Or at least that was what Nathalie told me when I suggested that." Adrien sighed, propping his chin up on his fist. "Though I'm not sure how my father could possibly need the Gorilla when he never even leaves the house. You guys will have to go without me and tell me how it went. Maybe I can come next year or something."

He looked so downtrodden, Nino just couldn't stand it. He would go confront Mr. Agreste, except... well, that hadn't turned out very well last time.

"I don't suppose you could sneak out?" Nino suggested weakly, but he knew already that Adrien wouldn't go for it. If Mr. Agreste knew that Adrien had wanted to make plans for a certain night, then he would have Nathalie keep a particularly close eye on Adrien to make sure that he obeyed his father's orders.

And if Adrien escaped to spend the evening like a normal teen, then Mr. Agreste would punish him by denying absolutely every last get-together that the four of them could have, even if they were only hanging out at their houses. The man was just an asshole like that.

"Not a chance. And it wouldn't make sense for you to video chat with me all night. It would be a pain for you to carry a phone around like that for the entire time."

"For you, it's no trouble. And it keeps Marinette from being a third wheel with Alya and I, too," Nino added slyly. "You wouldn't want to make Marinette a third wheel, would you?"

"You could invite along other people, you know." Adrien glanced towards the classroom door, where Rose and Juleka were just entering. "I'm really sorry, dude, but I honestly can't make it. I wish, but..."

Nino sighed. He didn't doubt that Marinette would end up winning Adrien over on the video chat idea- even if his best bro didn't realize it yet, he was totally weak for Marinette's kitten eyes- but he wished that there was some way he could help.

They should have told Mr. Stick-in-the-mud Agreste that Adrien was coming over to Nino's house for a study session instead of telling him the truth and mentioning the fair, but it was too late for that.

"Have fun," Adrien told Nino. "I can't be part of it, but I'm sure you'll still have fun."

  They ended up video calling Adrien anyway. As soon as they had cleared the line into the fair and had gotten their plan in order, his phone was ringing.

"You had to be part of it," Alya told Adrien, crowding in over Marinette's shoulder and waving the thing in her hand at her phone. "And not just as this, either."

Adrien let out a sharp bark of laughter, leaning in closer to his screen to get a better look at the thing that Alya was waving around. "What is that?"

Alya was grinning. "It's your head, isn't it obvious?"

Obvious might have been stretching it. What Alya was holding was nothing other than a life-sized cardboard cutout of Adrien's head and shoulders, mounted on a stick. It was quite a good picture, one that Alya had taken on one of the outings that Adrien had been allowed to come out on. Adrien's grin was a little wilder than the one he always offered to photographers during his photoshoots, his hair a little ruffled. He looked like a normal teenager.

Adrien adored the photo. But right now, he was a little bit puzzled about why it was there.

"Well, we wanted to take some group pictures," Nino explained, draping himself over Marinette's other shoulder. "And we didn't want to leave you out. It would look pretty silly if we just held up Marinette's phone in all of the photos, since you would just be a little dot on the screen. So we thought we would bring you via the phone, and bring your face with this thing."

Adrien laughed. "You guys are crazy."

"Yeah, but you love us anyway."

It didn't take them long to get into the fair mood. They bought treats ("We'll bring you anything that can last overnight," Nino promised. "Which...honestly might not be much.") and hopped on the Ferris Wheel. They took a selfie at the top, after lots of giggling over trying to figure out at what height they had to hold the Adrien-on-a-stick.

Or, well...they had tried, at least.

"He's not taller than me, though!" Nino protested as Alya hoisted the head a little higher. "Adrien's, like, a couple centimeters shorter."

"I am not," Adrien insisted from Marinette's phone screen. "I'm totally taller!"

"Dude, you are not."

"I think Adrien is taller," Marinette chimed in. "Just by a little bit, though."

"No, dude, I'm the one that's a hair taller!"

Alya sighed. "Okay. How about this? We make them the same height for the picture. You're close enough that it would be hard to see sitting down anyway."

The dual, grudging "oh, I suppose"s from the boys made both Alya and Marinette giggle.

With the height more or less decided (for the time being, at least), they had to figure out how to position the cut-out to make it look real. There was a decent amount of shuffling around to figure it out.

"We should have practiced this before," Alya sighed as the ride came to a halt. "Now we're going to have to go again. Well, we can figure out how to hold Adrien while people get off, at least."

The next round went smoother, and they got their group photo, as strange as it probably looked. The Adrien-cutout got tucked into Alya's bag when not in use, and they nearly forgot about it as they went on a couple more rides. Adrien had to look away when they went on a spinning ride, since it didn't exactly translate well over the phone. They watched a few families try to play the (rigged) carnival games and went through a hall of mirrors, then headed to listen to a few musicians play out in the street.

"Oh, there's a Tunnel of Love!" Alya pointed out, excited. "We can go on a boat ride and- oh, right," she interrupted herself, wincing. "Maybe some other time."

"I can wait out here," Marinette said quickly. "Adrien and I can go watch some of the street performers."

"Yeah, go have fun," Adrien spoke up right away. He grinned. "But be responsible!"

"Very funny." Still, Alya looked back at Marinette. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Marinette assured her. "Besides, I wanted to look at the outfits of some of those performers. Most are just wearing whatever, but there's a pair of dancers that have some crazy amazing beadwork and embroidery on their skirts."

On the other end of the line, Adrien perked up. "Ooh, is there a fashion tent? I'm really curious about what kinds of fashion are shown at the fair."

"Oh, god, let's leave the nerds to their fashion stuff," Alya told Nino, tugging at his hand. "Marinette, we'll catch up with you in the fashion tent. It might take a bit- the line at the tunnel is pretty long."

They split, and it was a full hour before Alya and Nino managed to catch up with Marinette, who had managed to wander into the heart of the Fashion tent. She and Adrien were exclaiming over some dresses made out of unusual materials, and it took a bit to pull them away from the display.

"We can do another selfie," Nino suggested before they left. "I'd like to have more than the one, anyway."

Alya was already pulling the head on the stick out of her bag. "Yeah! Okay, let's do it. C'mon, scrunch together- Marinette, hold on to Adrien's head-"

"That sounds completely normal," Nino said with a laugh, passing the head over to Marinette. "Okay, I'll hold the camera-"

It took a few seconds for them to cram together enough that the Adrien-head looked natural, and then they all grinned as Nino snapped the photo. He checked the photo, and once they decided that it was good, they broke up again.

"Oh- none of this is getting posted to social media, right?" Adrien asked as they headed out of the tent, an anxious look suddenly on his face. "Because if it is and someone sees it and it gets spread, then my father might see it out of context and then think that I snuck out. Or if he has Nathalie monitoring your social accounts."

"I'll keep those photos off," Nino promised. "We can take a couple photos without you to post online. We'll just email the other ones to you so that you can have them."

"Thanks!"

As the afternoon went on and they had more sugar and went on more rides, the three of them got more and more giggly. Adrien was grinning as he watched their antics over the phone, occasionally acting as the sole voice of reason in the group. They took more selfies, both with and without Adrien in the photo.

And then they started getting silly.

"Can we get a close-up of Adrien enjoying some cotton candy?" Nino asked as they left the booth with cones of spun sugar. He pointed to Alya's bag when they gave him a confused look. "Just, like, the head emerging from the sugar. Like he's bathing in it or something."

"If we hold all three of our cones together, then maybe it'll hide the fact that he has no body," Marinette pointed out once she saw that Adrien was laughing as he protested. She giggled when he gave a theatrical gasp and pouted at her. "If I hold my cone and Alya's and Nino holds the head and his cone, then Alya can frame the photo really well."

"And what am I, boiled cabbage?"

Nino snickered as Marinette carefully set her phone down on a nearby ledge so that Adrien could watch them. "We gotta do it, mate. You know we do."

The photo turned out perfectly, Adrien's face framed by clouds of sugar. Their giggles increased when they noticed that a wisp of sugar had come off of one of the cones and draped itself around one of the cardboard locks of hair.

"We would bring you some of this, but it kind of collapses and goes weird overnight," Nino told his friend as they headed down the road again. "And the packaged stuff isn't as good, it seems. It might just be bias, though."

"I'd be more interested in the doughnuts, I think," Adrien told him. "I don't get those very often, so if there are really good ones..."

"We'll try them out!"

Adrien's head fell victim to a tub of ice next, posed to look like Adrien was buried under a mound of ice under the watchful eye of a very puzzled drinks vendor. They got their water from him and waved good-bye, brushing droplets of water off of the Adrien head as they continued up the fairway.

"Think of all of the possibilities!" Nino exclaimed, waving the head a little as they walked. "Like- the ball pit! A bowl of ice cream! A log!"

Alya gave him a look. "And where exactly are we meant to find a log?"

"It's a fair! Surely someone has a stray log sitting around somewhere."

"It's too bad you don't have several pictures of me," Adrien said with a laugh, apparently deciding that his amused protests were getting him nowhere. "With, like, different expressions. It's going to be obvious after the first picture or two that I look exactly the same in every photo."

"We'll just not show people more than a picture or two in a row, then," Alya said with a shrug. "Or we'll show different people different photos and then get to sit back and cackle when they mention it to each other and then get all confused because they saw different pictures."

"Besides, I doubt that people are that observant," Nino pointed out. "They probably won't notice unless they see stuff side by side. I say we find as many ridiculous places to stick the Adrien-head as we can for the rest of the afternoon, just because we can."

"You guys are mad."

  By the time they were ready to leave, they had several dozen progressively goofier photos with the Adrien-head and a bag full of assorted fair treats and prizes to sneak to Adrien when they had the chance. They had been accompanied for the last hour by the sound of Adrien practicing piano, since Nathalie had asked him to and was periodically sticking her head in to make sure that Adrien was actually doing the work.

"Well, that was more fun than anticipated," Nino said cheerfully as they checked to make sure that they had everything before heading out of the park. "Normally I get bored at the fair. Like, there's some cool music performances, sure, but it's a lot of time on my feet and lines for the rides and a lot of grease in the food, and that gets old fast. Or I'm watching my little brother, and that's no fun."

"Kids at the fair are awful," Alya agreed. "My sisters are a nightmare to watch, because they want to see everything and then they hit a wall and whine until we can leave. And they don't want to go on any of the cool rides."

"Neither did Marinette," Nino pointed out. "She just had to sit to the side and be serenaded by Adrien while we went on the big roller coaster."

Both Marinette and Adrien spluttered and protested. "It wasn't serenading-"

"I was playing the theme from Star Wars!" Adrien added. "And I mean, yeah, I might have been adding a bit of acapella in for spice or when I messed up a bit, but I don't think that counts as serenading."

Nino and Alya exchanged a smirk. Whatever Adrien had been playing right before they came back had definitely not been Star Wars. And whatever he had been singing-

Well, it had also not sounded like Star Wars, unless the movies had suddenly gained lyrics to go along with their theme songs. And Nino was pretty sure that they had not.

But they weren't going to tease too hard, not when Adrien could just end the call to escape the conversation. That would be a bit unfair to Marinette.

"I think we have everything," Alya declared after a quick glance around. "Including the ladybug pillow that Marinette won for you, Adrien," she added when she spotted Adrien craning his neck. "I still can't believe that she won that game twice in a row. Those kinds of games are meant to be rigged."

"Nothing is rigged if you throw hard enough," Marinette muttered, but a smirk was playing at the edges of her lips. Clearly she was proud of her achievement. "And if you have decent aim."

"You were supposed to knock the bottles over, Marinette, not smash them," Nino chimed in, but he couldn't keep from laughing. "It was pretty impressive, really. And the look on the shop owner's face-!"

"He shouldn't have glued his bottles down the first time, then."

Alya snorted with laughter, then pulled out her phone as it buzzed. "Oh, that's my dad. He says we should meet him at the far end of the parking lot, since he can't get any closer in. Let's pack up and go."

"What should I do with the head?" Nino asked as he held it up. "Do you just want me to carry it, or...?"

"I'll take it," Alya offered, reaching out for the head. "Maybe we'll have to use it again sometime. I hope not," she added to Adrien. "I'd rather just have you join us, of course. But you can't deny that we can take some really funny photos with it."

"I'd say this is revenge for all of the times I haven't been able to join you guys for stuff, but none of that was my fault," Adrien said, but he was laughing. "Are you going to mix up what photo you use on the paddle?"

"Nah, it wouldn't look that different," Alya told him as they exited the fairgrounds and started winding through the parking lot. "It doesn't show your shirt, so it's not like your hair is noticeably different between normal shots or anything."

"That's fair, I suppose."

"We could find some way to stick a shirt on it so that it wouldn't look so weird in group photos," Marinette suggested, and Alya snickered.

"Yes, Marinette, you can dress Adrien."

"I'm starting to think that I need to persuade my father to let me come out with you guys for the sole purpose of keeping you from doing weird things with my head," Adrien commented as Marinette turned pink. "I'll ask Nathalie and see if she can figure out what his problem is."

"And if not, then maybe we can find something to do where you can sneak out," Nino suggested. "If you don't tell your father then he won't think to check in on you, right?"

"Maybe," Adrien said doubtfully. He glanced off to the side as though he was listening to something, then turned back to them. "And I have to go right now, but I'll see you guys tomorrow, right?"

"Of course," Nino assured him as the girls let out a chorus of good-byes. "See you, bro."

Adrien waved, and then the line went dead. Marinette tucked her phone back into her pocket and pointed towards Alya's father's car, waiting at the end of the next row. She and Alya hurried towards it and Nino followed, at a slightly slower pace.

Because, well...Adrien's earlier words had given Nino an idea. A wonderful, awesome, splendid idea.

And he couldn't wait to try it out.

  Nino groaned as he checked his watch again. Adrien had promised him that he would come study with Nino after his fencing practice. The end of the fencing class had come and gone , and there was no Adrien.

Again.

Nino knew that Adrien wasn't doing it on purpose. Sometimes he agreed to something early in the day and simply forgot later on because of all of the other things in his schedule that he had to remember. Sometimes Adrien planned on coming and then his father sprung a obligation on him and Adrien just got thrown off enough by that that he forgot to mention it to his friends. Sometimes it was just forgetfulness.

But it was getting really, really exasperating, especially when Nino was counting on his friend to help him learn something for a test.

But Nino had an idea to help Adrien remember. A prank, of sorts. One that would stick in Adrien's mind and hopefully make him actually remember to either tell his handlers about his study sessions with his friends or remember to tell his friends- well, Nino mostly, Alya usually couldn't stay to study since she had to be home with her sisters and Marinette was plenty smart on her own and she seemed equally as busy as Adrien- that he wouldn't be able to make it.

Checking his phone one more time, Nino temporarily left his stuff piled on the table and trotted down to his locker. There, he pulled out the cardboard cutout of Adrien that he had stuffed in. It had barely fit- thankfully they were still young enough that Adrien's shoulders hadn't broadened yet- but it was there, and so Nino hauled it back up to the library.

Thankfully there weren't a lot of people around still, because there would definitely be some questions about why he was carrying around a cardboard cutout of his best friend around.

It wasn't a complete cutout, of course. It was a bit above the waist-up, but that was all Nino needed for his prank.

Grinning, Nino grabbed a few thick books off of the shelves and piled them up on a chair, adjusting them until "Adrien" was sitting at a realistic height at the table. Nino lent him a couple notebooks and a pencil and arranged it realistically, as though Adrien had just sat back for a moment from doing his schoolwork.

Well, it wasn't going to fool anyone in person, but maybe once the sun shifted a little it would be perfectly convincing in a photo.

Nino went back to his notebook, only stopping to respond to a text from Alya. Apparently an akuma fight had tumbled past her apartment and she was a bit sore that she was stuck babysitting and couldn't go chasing after the fight until her dad got home.

He would have offered to come over and watch the twins for a bit until the akuma fight was over so that Alya could go out, but the bruises that he had gotten from his last impromptu babysitting gig had yet to fade away and he was in no hurry to get more. Besides, he really had to get this Physics homework done, and it was going to take a while without Adrien's help.

"Hey, Adrien, what formula should I be using for this problem?" Nino asked. He pretended to listen intensely to the cutout for a few seconds, and then nodded seriously. "Ah, yes, of course."

Slowly but surely, Nino worked his way through his homework. The sun finally set enough for him to finally put his plan into action. Shifting around in his seat, Nino dug out his phone and turned it to selfie mode, adjusting until his Adrien-cutout looked pretty realistic. It helped that his phone camera wasn't as good as Alya's, and the angle of the sun wasn't reflecting off of the paper. He snapped a few photos, and then movement in the window caught his eye.

...apparently the akuma fight had moved over to the school.

"Oh, Alya is gonna flip," Nino muttered excitedly, wriggling a little to get a better angle. He snapped a whole slew of photos as Ladybug and Chat Noir tumbled past, then flipped through the shots that he had gotten. Several were blurry, but he had a really good one of him and "Adrien" sitting there with Chat Noir poised for battle in the background, Ladybug a red blur a little farther out. As the sounds of the battle got a little too loud to ignore- they had definitely shattered at least one window somewhere nearby- Nino decided to take a short break from the studying and post the photo online.

Studying with my best bro! Not even an akuma attack can distract us from our studies!

With the photo posted, Nino waited until the sounds of the battle cut off- Ladybug and Chat Noir saved the day once again- and then turned back to his work. He was nearly done with his physics homework, so maybe he could get started on his research for his project in Civics before he had to go home.

There was still no Adrien by the time Nino had finished with Physics, which suggested that his friend probably wasn't paying attention to his phone at all, since he would have gotten notified when the picture went up. Either he was busy with a photoshoot or something or he was neck-deep in his own homework at home, and he would be super apologetic when he spotted the texts and picture.

Which...well, Nino felt bad about, just a bit, but really, Adrien had to get better at not flaking out on him.

Thirty minutes later, Nino made a face as a group of younger students piled into the library, pushing each other and giggling as they settled down at a table close to Nino. Something about that screamed trouble (and also too noisy to study), so Nino started packing up, shoving his notebooks in his bag and putting the books away on the shelves. When he came back from checking out the books that he actually needed out, he noticed that one of them had somehow gotten their baseball hat snagged on one of the sprinklers in the ceiling.

That was unfortunate.

Nino had started gathering up his things when the first bouncy ball landed on the opposite side of the table. He paused, puzzled as the second ball landed. It didn't take long for him to realize that the kids were trying to knock the hat down. Before he could tell them off or alert the librarian, the next ball hit the sprinkler dead-on, knocking the hat off and setting the sprinkler off.

Yelping, Nino grabbed his bag and dove under the table so that his stuff wouldn't get soaked. He could hear yelling from the kids, and then the sharp voice of the librarian trying to get everything under control. The water was soaking the carpet, and Nino winced.

At least his notebooks hadn't been left out. His cutout was probably a lost cause, though.

Mr. Haprele's voice appeared and then left, and then it was only seconds more before the water flow slowed to a halt. Nino gingerly crawled out, wincing as water from the pool on the tabletop dripped down onto him.

"That kind of behavior is not tolerated in my library!" the librarian, Madam Richmond, was scolding the group of kids. It looked like one or two had managed to escape in the chaos, but Nino suspected that they would be caught and hauled back before long. "All of you, to the principal's office, now!"

As Madam Richmond and Mr. Haprele ushered the soggy, sullen group of kids towards the door, a familiar figure ducked into the library. He moved out of the way of the group, and then glanced around the library. Adrien's startled eyes fell on Nino in the middle of the mess and he made a beeline for him.

"What even happened in here?" Adrien asked, glancing around. His eyes fell on the floppy cardboard cutout doing a faceplant on the table and he snorted. "Do I even want to know?"

"Some idiot kids managed to set off the sprinkler. I'm lucky that I had started packing up when they came in and were making a ton of noise, because none of my stuff got wet." Nino patted his bag. A couple drops had gotten onto it when he came out from under the table, but for the most part it was dry. "And I had gotten the books I was using either checked out or put away."

"It could have been a lot worse," Adrien agreed, glancing around. "But it's going to be a job and a half to save the books that did get wet. I wonder if we shouldn't pull them off of the shelves, since the water is pooling there."

"Yeah! And maybe we could call Marinette and ask if she could bring some towels or something over, so they could absorb some of the water from the books." Nino hauled his stuff over to a dry table- thankfully the sprinkler had only hit part of the room- and then pulled out his phone to call her. "I just feel really bad for Madam Richmond. It's going to be a mess if she has to get books replaced."

Adrien nodded as he started pulling the least damaged books off of the shelf before more water could get on them. "Yeah. That would cost a lot, probably, and it's a complete waste of money just because some kids decided to mess around."

It didn't take long to call up Marinette, and she promised to bring over all she could carry. Nino thanked her, then hung up and threw out the completely ruined cutout before heading over to help Adrien.

"By the way- I'm so sorry for forgetting about studying," Adrien told Nino as they cleared off the shelves. "I just got wiped out at fencing and then forgot to tell the Gorilla that I didn't need to get picked up."

"Right," Nino said with a nod, though he didn't feel particularly convinced. It felt like the same excuse time after time and nothing ever changed. "And you'll remember next time?"

Adrien nodded , though he looked worried.

Mr. Haprele returned with a whole cart of supplies for sucking up the water and drying the library up. He looked pleased when he saw what Nino and Adrien had accomplished.

"Damp books can be stood up over there," he told them, pointing at a series of dry tables on the far side of the library. "Fan the pages out so that they can air-dry. If they're a bit wetter, we'll put paper towels between the pages. Soaked books can be stacked over on that table, and Madam Richmond can tell us what to do with them when she gets back."

Nino dove in to help, gathering up an armful of damp books and getting to work. By the time he got three set up, Marinette was coming in with an armful of towels. Her dad was behind her, carrying a laundry basket full of all sorts of towels. They immediately got to work wrapping the soaked books in towels. Adrien flashed a huge grin at Marinette and she immediately flushed pink.

...sometimes Nino wondered if Adrien would have an easier time remembering their study sessions if Marinette came along, too. He seemed to love spending time with Marinette, even if he claimed that he just saw her as a friend.

Madam Richmond nearly cried when she returned to the library ten minutes later and saw how much progress they had made.

"Some of these books might get lost, but this will help so much," she told them as Adrien wiped down the emptied shelves with a towel. "I can focus on the really damaged books and try to save them. You all are amazing. Thank you, so, so much."

"You're welcome, Madam Richmond," they chorused.

Before long, Adrien got called home. He waved to Nino and Marinette before heading out, not looking entirely happy about leaving. Nino waved back before turning back to his work, sandwiching a few more paper towels between book pages and trying not to let the damp pages stick and tear. Marinette was having more success, he noticed, but she was also a lot more used to working with her hands and doing delicate stuff.

Five minutes later, Nino realized that he had never really explained anything to Adrien about why he had taken the selfie with the cutout. He hadn't really even gotten to properly see Adrien's response to the post, since they had been distracted by the rush to save the library books.

Oh, well. It didn't really matter in the end. Either it would help Adrien remember in the future or it wouldn't, and there was nothing that Nino could do to change that.

  Several blocks over, Gabriel Agreste returned to his office after yet another failed attempt to get the Miraculous from Ladybug and Chat Noir. He wasn't in a great mood to start with, and then Nathalie met him with her tablet in her hands.

"I thought you might be interested," Nathalie said, handing her tablet over. Gabriel took it, turning it to see the page on the screen. It only took Gabriel a second to recognize the page as belonging to Adrien's DJ friend. At the very top of the page was a new post, a photo with a short caption. Gabriel opened it, noting that it had been posted right in the middle of the akuma attack. Adrien and the DJ were seated in a library, busy studying. The caption read Studying with my best bro! Not even an akuma attack can distract us from our studies! and sure enough, Chat Noir was clearly visible in the window in the background, with the blurred shape of Ladybug a bit farther back.

It wasn't a fantastic picture by any means, but it was clear enough that it told Gabriel all that he needed to know. If there was any doubt that Adrien wasn't Chat Noir left after the Gorizilla attack, it was gone now.

"Well, I'm glad that he's taking his schooling seriously," Gabriel said stiffly, handing the tablet back. "Even if it is with that insolent DJ friend of his. It's unfortunate that he didn't post a picture like that back before I sent out Gorizilla, but the past is the past."

A muscle on the side of Nathalie's jaw jumped, but she didn't comment.

"Do contact Adrien and see when he plans to be home, though," Gabriel continued, turning back to his work. He had to get a couple sketches completed for a commission, and with all of the emotions running high around Paris he just hadn't had the time. "It's been several hours since fencing let out. Surely they've finished all of their homework by now."

"Of course, sir."

"And since he's been cleared of being Chat Noir, we can loosen the reins on him a little bit and let him go out with his friends more. Not too suddenly or he'll suspect something, but gradually."

Nathalie nodded. "Yes, sir. Anything else?"

Gabriel nodded stiffly, his gaze returning to Emilie's portrait. "Yes, in fact. I'd like you to compile a list of all teenaged blond boys in this area of Paris. Clearly I need to start my search over from scratch."

[ahgaseda]

the hot tea || chapter 04

⇥ synopsis : your best friend, Jackson, never fails to argue against your apathy toward love and romance, but his plan to confess his true feelings toward you is rudely interrupted when you start a blog chronicling your past relationships...

⇥ warnings : this story in its entirety includes but is not limited to strong language and dialogue, recurring alcohol or drug use, and explicit sexual content, and is intended for an adult audience only!

Drumming your nails on the table, you stared at the screen and the words written in the document. This was it; your first foray into novelizing your relationships. Your teeth sank into your lip and truth be told, you lingered the cursor over the delete button.

Rising from the desk with a frustrated groan, you flopped onto your bed and grabbed your phone, scrolling through your contacts. When you landed on his name, you hesitated. It had been quite a while since the two of you talked, but part of you needed to get this off your chest.

The phone rang three times before he answered, “Hello?”

Slightly taken aback by his voice, which seemed much deeper than you remembered, you stammered, “Hey, um, it’s me.”

Your ex didn’t sound fazed in the least. “What’s up?”

Vaguely you could hear the mashing of buttons in the background followed by the untimely death of some computer-generated creature and a smirk tugged at your lips. With a snicker, you rambled, “I know this is really random and it’s late. Sorry about that.”

“You know I don’t go to bed until, like, the crack of dawn,” he retorted. “What’s bothering you?”

As if you could tell him what you were up to, you mused with a shake of your head. Guilt crept up your spine and you murmured, “Nothing. I just… I don’t know.”

“Spit it out, babe.”

You asked, “Are we okay?”

That was clearly the last thing he expected you to say. “Huh?”

“You and me,” you trailed, memories filling your mind. “Are we alright? No bad blood or any hard feelings.”

He replied without missing a beat, “None at all.”

“Okay. Good. I needed to be sure.”

“Feel better?” he asked and you just knew he was smiling with amusement.

“Yes, I’m sorry. You know my brain does most of its work in the middle of the night,” you quipped for an attempt at some levity to break the tension.

He chuckled. “Some things never change.”

You simpered, warmth gathering behind your cheeks. “Take care, Mark.”

“You, too.”

Macchiato at its core is just coffee and cream. Simple, but if you think about it, a collision of complete opposites. Boyfriend number one was like that. He was a polarizing force that blew hot then cold and I never knew whether to bring a coat or a bikini. Nevertheless, he was the First Love and the story begins with him.

We met during my senior year of high school, when I had transferred to a foreign place and knew absolutely no one. Turned out, we had that in common...

Approaching the table in the corner, your voice began to quiver as you spoke, “I, um, I’m sorry to do this, but…”

Mark glanced up, saying nothing as he chewed his food.

“Can I sit here?” you asked innocently.

Mark lifted his brow, seemingly waiting for an explanation. No one ever sat with him. Barely anyone even spoke to him or acknowledged his presence since he arrived only a few months earlier.

“It’s just… those boys keep bothering me and I noticed everyone gives you space,” you said, feeling the telltales of anxiety as you heard the chatter growing louder behind you. “I thought, maybe…”

Mark nonchalantly motioned to the seat across from him with a nod of his head.

You breathed in relief and thanked him, sitting down and running a hand through your hair. The last thing you anticipated when arriving to this new school was dealing with a pack of boys that felt they were entitled to your attention and were rather offended you didn’t readily give it to them.

For a moment, Mark studied you as he took another mouthful of food. You looked petrified and part of him felt a rush of instincts to defend you. Clearly a foreigner like himself, he immediately decided he wouldn’t allow any nonsense where you were concerned.

Having finally calmed, you proceeded to eat your lunch.

A few minutes later, Mark’s expression faltered as he glanced at something past you. You furrowed your brow until you heard the patter of footsteps at your back.

“Hey, new girl,” one of the boys jeered, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “Where did you scurry off to?”

You exhaled in defeat, resisting the urge to cry at the loss of some peace you had ached for.

“What’s up, Mark?” the guy called to the loner, roughly tugging on your sweater as he did so.

Mark set down his fork and slowly rose to his feet, not uttering a word as he began rolling up his sleeves.

The display made your eyes widen, realizing this boy you had just met was ready to square up on your behalf.

The bully chuckled, promptly releasing his grip on your coat and taking a wary step back. “Hey, bro, there’s no problem here, right?” he asked nervously.

Mark shrugged, noncommittal, but more than ready to handle his business.

“We were just gonna get this new girl out of your way.”

Mark shook his head, now proceeding to unfasten his school vest.

The boys shuffled behind you, but you didn’t dare turn to look.

“Whoa, Americano. It’s cool,” another guy said hurriedly, trying to diffuse the situation and steering his trouble-making friend away. “We’ll see you at class, alright?”

Mark bobbed his head and waved them away, waiting for them to be gone before he plopped back into his seat with an annoyed sigh.

You watched him, wanting to smile, and joked, “I wish I could do that.”

Mark grabbed his fork and glanced at you, saying, “You shouldn’t have to.”

It was the first time you had ever heard his voice and you had to admit, you liked the way it sounded. It made sense such a stoic, formidable personality would be accompanied by a low timbre voice.

“Thank you,” you whispered shyly.

Mark smiled and said, “Sit with me whenever you want.”

“You won’t mind?”

He shook his head and you were slightly disappointed at not hearing his voice again.

Lunch with Macchiato became an everyday routine. And little by little, we found some kind of camaraderie. We were both lonely, that was for certain, and we gravitated to each other for a sense of belonging. Soon, it wasn’t just lunch. Turned out we had a few classes together and even the ones we didn’t share he always walked me to and from. Sure, we bonded over being the weird foreign kids, but it was more than that...

“Hey,” Mark said as you began to enter your class.

Turning around, you asked, “Yes?”

Taking your hand gently, he pulled you closer and whispered in your ear, “Let’s ditch.”

“What?” you exclaimed, eyes going wide.

Mark shushed you and continued levelly, “I hate bio and you hate math.”

“True, but that won’t make the tests we’re prepping for magically go away,” you said, grimacing at the thought of exams on the horizon.

Mark tilted his head and whined, “Come on. It’s just one day.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you teased under your breath, “And here I thought you were a good boy.”

“I’ve got news for you,” he quipped, sticking out his tongue at the corner of his mouth and wiggling his eyebrows.

Your gaze flitted from your only companion to the rapidly filling classroom. With a sigh of defeat, you grumbled, “Alright, where are we going and what trouble are we getting into?”

Mark squeezed your hand and began dragging you with him down the hall. “I wanna show you my happy place.”

Rolling your eyes, you followed dutifully, stealing a glance over your shoulder to make sure no one saw the daring escape.

Mark brought you outside and kept going, over the paved paths until they became gravel and pebbles. You passed between lush trees and grass, spotting a lake just beyond.

“Full of surprises, Mark Tuan,” you deadpanned when he finally released your hand and dropped his backpack beneath the largest of the trees.

At the top of a gentle slope that led to the water, Mark sat down and leaned back against his bag, overlapping his arms behind his head.

“Sometimes I just come here and think about everything,” he told you, closing his eyes.

Standing next to him, you glanced around and teased, “Is that so?”

The light trickled through the branches ever so delicately and you stopped still for a moment to simply take in the peace and quiet of your surroundings. Placing your backpack neatly next to his, you copied Mark’s position, resting on your back alongside him. Though you neatly laced your fingers over your stomach rather than behind your head.

A moment of silence later, Mark said, “I think about you, you know.”

Turning to look at him, your heart fluttered. “You do?”

Mark opened his eyes and met your gaze. “Yeah.”

You bit your lip to hide a smile, heat flushing your cheeks.

Playful, Mark suddenly glared and chided, “Don’t look at me like that.”

You retorted, “It’s your own fault for being sweet.”

“Never again,” Mark said, relaxing again and closing his eyes.

Giggling, you whispered, “Whatever you say, Tuan,” and settled in comfortably beside him, losing yourself for a few precious moments of contentment and realizing that Mark was the first boy to make your heart race.

chapter 03 ⇤ chapter 04 ⇥ chapter 05

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

{ copyright 2018-2020 © ahgaseda // all rights reserved }

[sirius-archive]

Chaos Theory Pt. 2

Pairing: Cedric x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, alcoholism and drug usage (mentioned), low key violence?

Word Count: 4644

A/N: okie dokie chapter two here we go! first, i want to thank everyone who has commented/reblogged/messaged me about Chaos Theory and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know via my inbox. To all my friends in AO3 town, thank you also for your support. Another note: I will be away over the next two weeks so I won’t be able to post the next chapter of Chaos Theory until then. However, when I do get back, I’ll post the next two chapters.  

Chapter Two:

There is something pleasantly sweet about Cedric Diggory’s smile.

It’s gentle and unassuming; a perfect display of pearly-white teeth framed by soft, kissable lips. Sometimes, it reaches his eyes and gives off a warm radiance that you could bask in for an eternity. Sometimes, it tickles the corners of his lips in a subtle display of sincerity. But it always, always, has an effect on you that you can’t exactly describe.

You’re not sure if it’s because you’re drunk on adrenaline from the Quidditch World Cup or you’re just being sentimental, but you feel as though you’ve drowned a cauldron of amortentia and the potion bubbles frantically inside your stomach whenever Cedric so much as glances your way.

Your eyes can’t help but drift over to him like you’re a compass and he’s true north. At the moment, he’s laughing and chatting animatedly with the rest of your friends, but there are secret moments shared between the two of you where your gazes clash and linger with a sense of longing. You can’t help but wonder if it will always be like this; stealing glances at each other from across the room but neither of you taking the first step.

You hope that one day, you’ll be brave enough to break the pattern.

You decide to try and distract yourself by trying to soak up the moment. Most of the Weasley clan bar Mr. Weasley are gathered around a large fire and joined by Fred and George’s friend, Lee Jordan. The host, Cedric, sits between Bill Weasley and Harry, who looks a little tense around the shoulders. You’re about to get up and join them but your brother, Luke, playfully jabs you with his elbow and nods in the direction of your gaze.

“Like something you see over there?” His voice is teasing and condescending and the knowing smirk that goes with it jolts the itch on the inside of your wrist to life. You resist the temptation to scratch it, instead choosing to narrow your eyes on your brother.

“No. I was simply…observing the campfire.”

“Were you now?”

“Yes.”

Luke shakes his head, amused by your obvious attempt at a lie, “You’re lying.”

The irritation begs to be scratch, practically pleading for you to peel the skin back and plunge your nails into the flesh.

“No I’m not.”

Luke sighs in mock disappointment, “You truly are a terrible liar. I thought I taught you better…” 

You work your jaw, “Might I remind you that you crashed our party because all of your friends are drunk and high, and you didn’t want to spend the night alone?”

Luke shrugs, his grin lopsided, “What can I say? They’re all lightweights...amateurs. And don’t change the subject.”

He wags a finger at you in the same way a scolding parent might, and you bat it away with a sigh. You roll your eyes at him and throw your arms up in surrender. Luke pumps a fist into the air and grins triumphantly.

“Why are you serpents always so perceptive?” You grumble, scowling at your brother.

“It’s a curse,” he chortles and shrugs, “Besides, that’s what future lawyers like me do; we perceive things and stick our noses where they don’t belong.”

You give a very loud snort, “That’s presuming you’re actually smarter than you look.”

Luke clutches his chest in mock offence, “That’s a low blow, even for you.”

You shrug through nonchalance, though you can feel Cedric’s eyes on you again and you have to fight every single cell in your mortal body not to look or you might as well turn into a pillar of salt.

“He’s looking at you right now, y’know,” Luke playfully nudges your shoulder with his own, “What are you going to say to him?”

“I...” you pause, realizing you’re at a loss for words, “...I don’t know–? I mean, what can I say, really. He’s him and I’m me and we both have responsibilities...especially since this is his last year and–”

“–wait, what are you talking about?” Luke interjects, brows knitted together in confusion.

You give him a quizzical look “It’s Cedric’s last year...”

Luke studies you for a long time, a familiar expression filling out his features. It’s the same look he wears when he’s piecing a puzzle together, or if he’s deciding whether something is genuine. You can almost see the wheels and cogs hissing and turning in his head, like you’ve peeled back his scalp and peered into his skull, watching the electrical currents scuttle along the network of synapses in his brain.

“Who–who did you think I was talking about?” You ask, slowly, in a voice filled with caution. Luke’s lips quirk into a smile, flashing a row of pearly-white teeth.

“Well–”

“-Luke, buddy, where’ve you been?” A slurred voice booms through the air, it’s owner emerging from the shadows shortly after. Caleb Jin stumbles into view, a crooked smile spread across his lips, “We’ve been looking everywhere for bro...”

He stops, realizing that Luke isn’t alone. For the first time since he’s arrived, he’s noticed you and your friends, and he gives a teasing, sarcastic salute.

“Ah, finally nice to meet the pretty one,” he winks and tries to smirk. It’s as appealing as a limp piece of celery. “Now all I have to do is meet the other three and I’ve met the whole set…”

“He must be pretty wasted if he’s referring to Hermione, Ron, Harry and I like we’re collectable chocolate frog cards,” you note, watching as Caleb begins to unbuckle his belt.

Luke winces, “Yeah…though I’m 66.6% sure he’s being serious.”

“What?” you bleat and Luke shakes his head.  

“I’d...better make sure he gets back to his tent safely...” he murmurs, rising from his seat, “I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?”

You nod at your older brother and watch as he waves goodnight to everyone and saunters up to Jacob, slinging an arm across Caleb’s shoulders to support him.

“Bye, pretty one,” Caleb waves at you hopefully. You wave back and hear him cheering in the distance.

“I think I’ll go to bed,” you announce as you turn back to your friends, “Thanks for tonight…”

“Already?” Harry asks, somewhat disappointed in your decision to leave, “It’s barely ten o’clock.”

“Still, I better go. We’ve got a long trip tomorrow.”

“I think I’ll come, too,” says Hermione, climbing to her feet and walking toward you.

“Oh, come off it, Hermione, you’re probably going to go and read or do nerdy stuff like study,” Fred flaps a hand at her dismissively.

“And what’s wrong with that?” she snaps, hands planted on her hips.

“We should take you back to bed as well, Gin,” Bill interrupts, rising from his spot in the grass. Ginny folds her arms across her chest indignantly.

“But I’m not tired!” she moans, and Bill narrows his eyes on her.

“It’s late, Ginny. We’ve all got to get up early to make it back home in time for breakfast.”

Ginny turns to Charlie, pleading him with an imploring look. Charlie grimaces, as though he’s fighting the urge to concede to her wishes, “Bill’s right, Gin.”

“I thought you were supposed to be the fun brother,” Ginny grumbles as she stands, pushing her hair off her glowering face.

“Hey!” Fred and George exclaim in unison and Ginny waves a hand at them.  

“I’ll walk you guys back,” Cedric springs to his feet.

“No need,” you blurt, your hurried response embarrassingly shrill.

“Oh, but I insist.” Cedric smiles, and the way it curls transfigures your spine into a strand of spaghetti. Your mouth flaps open to protest, but Hermione interjects before you can say anything more.

“That would be nice,” she smiles graciously, but the way it pinches the corners of her lips suggests that she’s scheming. You narrow your eyes on her suspiciously, and she shrugs innocently. Ginny stomps over to you and Hermione and Cedric leads you away from the campfire.

“It’s been a really lovely night,” Hermione smiles as the three of you stroll toward the Weasleys’ tent.

“It has,” Cedric agrees with another gracious smile (Curse him), “The game was thrilling and the company…” He glances shyly at you, “…well, I don’t think I would have enjoyed it very much without you.”

You notice Hermione and Ginny exchange a look and by the way Hermione’s shoulders tremble, you suspect they’re stifling giggles.

“Well I’m certainly glad I came,” you say, fighting back the warmth in your cheeks.

Cedric’s eyes linger on you for a moment, dancing between your eyes and your lips, “As am I.”

Does he want to–?

“Well it’s certainly made me realize why the boys love Quidditch so much,” Hermione admits, and you can hear a faint teasing tone in her voice, “It’s all rather thrilling, isn’t it?”

“Thrilling indeed,” Cedric remarks, “Never thought the Weasley Twins would predict the outcome of the game.”

“They’re smarter than they look,” you joke, “Though I think they learned their lesson.”

Cedric raises a brow, “And that is?”

“Never make deals with the devil.”

“Or someone just as trustworthy as they are,” Hermione adds, “Which is not trustworthy at all.”

A gentle laugh trickles from Cedric’s lips and curls in the air, “I suppose they had that coming.”

The conversation soon steers toward the upcoming year. You and Ginny exchanged a pained look, but before you can change the subject, Hermione has launched into a lecture about what she’s anticipating the most.

As she rambles, Cedric’s hand grazes against yours, long fingers reaching out tentatively to tickle the skin of your hand. Your heart floats in your chest as though someone had untied the arteries and veins attached to it and set it free. You imagine it drifting around like a helium balloon after it’s string have been snipped; lighter than air, ascending into the milky white clouds of heaven.

Eventually, you arrive at the tent. Ginny bids Cedric a curt ‘goodnight’ before marching into the tent. Hermione turns to you wearing a smile of her own.

“Well, Good night,” she smirks suggestively, her eyes flicking toward you and Cedric before she disappears into the tent. You and Cedric loiter in the awkward silence, wondering who will break it first.

“I really did mean it when I said that I was happy you came,” Cedric finally says, smiling, and you realize with a delighted thrill that it was more than just a compliment. It was genuine.  

You chew your bottom lip, biting down on a goofy grin, “And I had no reason to doubt you.”

Cedric studies you for a long moment like he’s trying to draw the edges of your face on the canvas in his mind. His tongue darts out to slide across the cushion of his bottom lip and you wonder if he knows how handsome he is when he does that or if he can hear the blood rushing through your veins at the sight of it.

“You know, it’s nice to see you smiling again,” he finally says.

A wave of embarrassment drenches you in an uncomfortable warmth that burns beneath your cheeks as you recall the last time you saw Cedric. You remember the heat of the day; the air hot and sticky and sweetly perfumed with the scent of salt and butterbeer. Imaginary tears ghost over the rosy-pink skin of your cheeks and stain your lips with salt. Your hand moves to wipe tears that aren’t there.

“Yes I–I never did thank you for…what you said. So…thank you.” You stumble for words, your cheeks practically aching from all the bashful smiles.

“No need to thank me,” he smiles, “I’m just glad that you’re doing better.”

More awkward silence, filled only with the distant, drunken cheers of the Irish wafting over the campsite like a bad smell. You and Cedric shift awkwardly in the moment, eyes darting everywhere in a shy dance of will I? should I? before you shatter the moment with a quick nod.

“I should probably start writing my article,” you blurt, tucking a stray ribbon of hair behind your ear.

“Already?” Cedric asks, brows raised, “Talk about commitment…”

“What can I say?” you shrug, smiling, “Sleep when you’re dead, right?”

“I wish my teammates were as passionate about Quidditch as you are about writing,” Cedric says, eyes roving over you in awe. “Well, I guess this is goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”  

You turn quickly and move to retreat into your tent but your feet stop in their tracks, hesitating outside the folds. And, before you realise what you’re doing before you can even talk yourself out of it, you’re spinning on your heel and turning toward Cedric, reaching up and planting a tender kiss on his cheek. It’s decidedly chaste since it doesn’t seem appropriate to snog Cedric yet, but the warmth of his smooth skin against your lips is rather intoxicating, and there is a moment where you want to move a few inches over to kiss his lips but you don’t.

It leaves more of an impression than you expected, and you watch as a bright pink hue stains the exact spot where your lips had made contact with his cheek, the colour blossoming like wildflowers in the spring. It’s an adorable boyish look, and you admire for the millionth time how handsome he is, even in the low light. Even when bashful and unprepared and surprised.

Cedric beams, and it looks like he’s swallowed the sun. “Well, er – see you in the morning?”

You nod, biting your lip as Cedric begins to walk backwards as though he can’t peel his eyes away from you, his expression fixed as though he’s in a trance.  He stumbles unceremoniously into a tent and issues out a string of mumbled apologies, making you giggle.

Yeah, you think, your fingers moving to brush across your lips, the warmth of his cheek still ghosting over them, excitement bubbling up inside of you and bursting like a balloon filled with liquid sunlight, See you in the morning.

***

You’re not sure when you fell asleep exactly. Between working on your article for the school newsletter and the almost dreamlike night you had experienced with Cedric, it was a wonder you even slept at all. But your sleep is broken by two trembling hands shaking you awake, and you emerge from the cloudy greyness of sleep to find Hermione’s face looming over you.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“We have to get Mr Weasley,” Hermione whispers, her voice low, “We have to get out of here!”

“Why?” you ask, but then a scream pierces the air like the high-pitched shriek of shattering glass, and the heavy thrum of what sounds like a crowd of people tripping over themselves fills your ears.

Hermione gestures toward the tent’s folds, “Have a look for yourself.”

Yanking your nightgown off the bedpost, you wrap it around your pyjamas and poke your head out of the tent, your eyes widening in horror.

The campsite has been thrust into a world of pandemonium. Screams of terror cloud the air like a fog as stampede witches and wizards clamber past, retreating into the surrounding forest for safety. A large crowd of hooded wizards chases them into the wood, laughing and hooting as various bursts of light streak through the air like bullets. The air is thick and heavy with smoke and dust, rubble smouldering and tents burning.

Perhaps the worst part of it all is the four figures twisting and turning mid-air as though suspended by imaginary strings. The hooded wizards are puppeteering them into grotesque positions. Two of the figures are children.

Somehow, you don’t think you’re going to see Cedric in the morning.  

You clamp a hand over your mouth as you watch the scene unfold.  

“How cruel do you have to be to prey on children,” Ginny mutters darkly, gripping her wand tightly, “We have to help them.”

“No,” you snip, grasping Ginny’s wrist and yanking her back, “Us three against a crowd of wizards? Ginny, we’ll die. We have to be strategic about this…”

You release your grasp on Ginny and she turns to Hermione, whose brows are furrowed in thought. “(Y/N)’s right. The proper authorities will be here soon. They’re trained to do this sort of stuff.”

Fire rages in the dark depths of her chocolate-brown eyes and she forces out a sharp huff as though she were breathing plumes of smoke, “Well we can’t just let them torture those muggles!”

“There’s nothing else we can do,” Hermione says, composedly, “If we try to help them, we will all die.”

Ginny’s mouth twists into a thin frown like she wants to argue the point but doesn’t. Instead, she concedes with a curt nod of her head. Guilt twinges in your chest.  

“For what it’s worth, you really are a force to be reckoned with,” you remark, giving her a half-hearted smile. Ginny beams proudly, “Just…remember to choose your battles wisely.”

Ginny perks up at that, straightening her spine and squaring her shoulders. Hermione glances at you furtively, a warm smile tugging the corners of her lips. The touching scene is interrupted by Mr Weasley as he bursts through the tent’s entrance, eyes wide and voice tainted with an unnerving tone of panic.

“Good, you’re up,” He notes, eyes darting between the three of you, “We need to leave. Now.”

The three of you follow Mr Weasley out of the tent and spot Ron and Harry standing close by, both of them just as horrified as you are. You rush up to Harry, and a warm feeling of relief sinks into your skin.

“Bil, Charlie. Take them into the forest and wait for me there. I’m going to see what I can do to help.”

Bill and Charlie nod as Mr Weasley hurries off. They lead the group of you toward the forest, and as you reach the fringe of the woods, you and the others turn back to watch the scene. A group of Ministry members have their wands drawn out and directed at the group, attempt to diffuse the situation with words, though it doesn’t seem like they’re achieving much at all.

You bite your lip, eyes scanning the crowds for Luke, praying to every known god that he is safe. You don’t think you could lose him, too.

“We should keep moving...” Ron murmurs to you and you nod. Hermione gently pats your shoulder, massaging into the tense muscles.

“He’s going to be okay,” she whispers, as though she had read your thoughts, “I saw one of his mates earlier. He’s probably with them...”

“Yeah, you’re right. He’ll be fine. He can take care of himself,” you say, trying to convince yourself that it’s true. Hermione takes your hand and leads you into the Forrest.

The four of you walk in a tense silence, listening to the worried murmurs and distant screams filling the air around you. The shadows of the night cloud around you like ravenous demons as you walk further into the woods, but you keep your hand in Hermione’s as she leads you deeper and deeper.

Your thoughts sprint through the events of the night, anxiety churning inside of you and awakening the itch on your wrist. What if Luke got hurt in all the commotion? Where is Cedric? Is Mr Weasley going to be okay?

Hermione squeezes your hand, as though she can read your thoughts. Behind you, Ron yelps in pain. You stop abruptly, Harry very nearly crashing into you.  

“Ah, shit.” He mumbles and you squint at the forest floor, only just making out Ron’s lanky figure.

“What happened?” Hermione asks, anxiously, blinking through the darkness, “Where are you? Oh, this is stupid, Lumos.”

A narrow beam of light pours from the tip of her wand, lighting up the winding path. Ron lies, sprawled, on the floor, dry leaves and dirt sprinkled in his hair. You swallow the urge to laugh and help him to his feet.

“I tripped on a tree root,” Ron mutters, angrily. He dusts the dirt from his knees and Hermione picks the twigs from his hair.

“Well, with feet that size I suppose it’d be hard not to,” an oily voice drawls from behind you and rage surges through your veins like rivers of lava.

Draco Malfoy leans against a tree, his demeanour visibly taunting. He’s calm and composed, radiating the same, ugly energy that usually reeks off of him. You narrow your eyes on him and speak without thinking.

“Well you know what they say about wizards with big feet,” you glance at his feet and raise a brow, “And yours look kind of small.”

Ron snorts.

Draco’s nostrils flare.

In all honesty, you have no idea how big Draco’s feet are, but you’re satisfied with the look of offence and disdain that crosses Draco’s face.

“What’s that?” Draco cups his ear, “I can’t hear you from all the way down there.”

Ron steps forward protectively, “Fuck off, Malfoy.”

“Language, Weasley,” Malfoy drawls, his pale eyes glittering maliciously, “Or do you have to eat slugs again for you to finally learn your lesson?”

“What do you want?” Harry snarls.

“I’m just trying to find a good seat,” Malfoy shrugs, lazily, “Though you’ll probably want to hide the mudblood.”

“Shut your mouth, Malfoy!” Ron shouts, “Or I’ll have to do it for you.”

“That is the second time you’ve threatened to do so today,” Malfoy sneers, “Yet here I am.”

“Oh this is so pathetic,” Hermione snaps, “Let’s go.”

“The only thing that is pathetic here is you, Granger,” Draco spits, eyes narrowing like a snake eying its prey, “If you ask me, you should be out there with the muggles they’re torturing.”  

“Oh, shut up,” Harry snaps, “You’re only saying that because you feel threatened by her superiority.”

A cold, metallic laugh splits through the air, lacking amusement and warmth, “Please Potter, who are you trying to impress with these two charity cases? Your parents? Because we all know how that’s going to work out.”

“Alright, this has gone far enough,” Hermione says, composedly, “Let’s go.”

“What’s going on here?” says a familiar voice, and relief fills you up like sea water.

Luke steps into the light of Hermione’s wand, and you launch yourself into his arms. He returns the hug, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer, breathing into your hair. You hold him close, clinging onto him like you might crumble. He’s okay. Everything will be okay. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you murmur, eyes wet with unshed tears, “I can’t lose you, too.”

“You wouldn’t know what to do without me,” Luke teases, untangling himself from your embrace. His smile is loose but genuine.

Draco straightens, his casual demeanour shifting immediately. He’s nothing but talk, especially when a teacher or someone with authority arrives. And Luke is that person right now; a Slytherin prefect with an impeccable reputation.

“Draco,” Luke regards him with a simple nod, “I’ll see you at school.”

Draco nods wordlessly. As Luke and your friends move to walk deeper into the woods, you turn to Draco and stare at him curiously.

“What made you so cold and dead on the inside, Draco?” you ask, and Draco’s face falls. For once, he can’t come back with a retort, and you leave him staring into the darkness, completely speechless.

***

The walk home from the Quidditch World Cup somehow feels longer than the journey there.

You all walk in silence, too tired to even string a proper sentence together. You sluggishly trail down the road, exhaustion slowing you down as though it had hooked a rope around your waist and was yanking you back. You rub your eyes, stomach growling, limbs heavy as your mind sprints through the events of the long, chaotic night.

Through all of it, the Dark Mark still haunts your thoughts like it’s still looming over you like some sort of cruel god of pandemonium. The return of the Death Eaters has everyone on edge, as though their all denying a simple yet terrifying truth.

Fortunately, you had caught up with Cedric before you left. He promised to send an owl as soon as he arrived home. You would have liked to chat with him for longer if it weren’t for Fred and George, who tried to lure him into buying one of their ‘experimental candies.’ 

Harry gravitates toward you, his expression unreadable, “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you sigh through the lie, “Just tired. You?”

“Yeah,” Harry shrugs, “So…how did you meet Cedric…?”

The sound of his name jolts through you, and you suddenly feel more awake. “Oh, well, we met last year and we just…clicked.”

“Clicked, huh?” Harry echoes, though his voice has a slight edge to it, “That’s…good.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. Nice of him to walk you back to the tent, too.”

Your brows knit together as you study Harry’s expression, “Where are you going with this?”

“Nowhere,” Harry snaps, his voice cracking sharply like a whip, “I’m just saying it was nice of him to walk you back…”

“Well, he didn’t just walk me back.”

“I know–”

“¬–and why bring this up after the night we’ve just had?”

“Because–”

“–Because what?”

“You’re not giving me a chance to answer!”

“Well if you’d just hurry up and spit it out–”

“Would you two shut it? We’re nearly there!” Ginny interrupts, pointing into the distance. Ron and Hermione stare at you like they’re cataloguing your every move. They tear their eyes away and exchange a glance.

If you were less tired, you would have questioned them. Instead, you ignore them and turn back to Harry. He isn’t paying attention anymore, his mouth twisted into a frown as he glares at the Burrow. You can tell by his expression that he doesn’t want to talk anymore, and you cross your arms, deciding it’s better not to.

Picking up your pace, you catch up with Fred and George and the three of you chat lightly as you slowly approach the Burrow. It’s faint, but you think you hear a grumbled protest from behind you, and you glance over your shoulder to find Ron, Hermione and Harry arguing quietly amongst themselves.

What are they up to?

Your thoughts are interrupted by a relieved Mrs Weasley, who rushes up to the group of you and throws herself into Mr Weasley’s arms.

“Oh thank goodness you’re alright,” she mutters, squeezing him tight. A copy of this morning’s Daily Prophet falls from her grasp, slightly screwed from where she had been gripping it. You pick it up and flatten it out while Mrs Weasley pulls her children into a bear hug.

SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP the headline reads in large, bold letters. An image of the Dark Mark floats beside it, and a twinge of fear plucks the centre of your chest as the memory of last night flashes in front of your eyes. Shudders rattle your spine.

“This isn’t good…” you murmur.

“Well, obviously,” Harry grumbles from behind you, his tone dripping with sardonic venom, and you jump, slightly startled. He stands behind you, reading over your shoulder, and he’s close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath fanning across the nape of your neck. A different type of chill shoots through you like electricity.  

“Lets – er – go in and have breakfast…” Ron suggests, glancing uneasily at Hermione. Harry grits his jaw and shakes his head, snatching the Daily Prophet out of your grip. He marches inside with Ron on his heel, but Hermione lingers behind.

“What has gotten into him?” you snip, and Hermione gives you a strange look, as though she knows more than what she’s letting on.

“We’re all just a little bit tired and hungry,” she sighs, patting a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “But don’t worry about it for now. Come on, let’s have something to eat.”

Don’t worry about it for now, you mentally repeat as you follow her inside, that’s easier said than done.

***

Chapter three will be released soon.