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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years ago

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Write Up ~ KTH [Request]

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

GENRE: Fluffy, jealous, established-relationship

PAIRING: Taehyung x Fem!Reader x Seungmin (for like a couple of paragraphs)

A/N: As soon as I saw Puppy dog crush I had to make it Seungmin! Hope you enjoy!

Staring over at the clock on the wall you hoped it was just a little fast and that you weren't being stood up by your boyfriend Taehyung, time seemed to be moving slower now that you were staring at the clock on the wall. It was a Wednesday afternoon which meant it was his afternoon off and he could come and spend the afternoon with you in a small cafe in the middle of Seoul. It was the cutest cafe in the whole of the city, right down an alleyway which meant that hardly anybody knew that the place existed and that you were free to just let your hair down. The two of you had been together secretly for the last year and a half and this was one of the weekly routines that you would do together in this one spot. The owners knew you both well and would always make sure to have your orders waiting for you whenever you came in to work in the shop. You'd been working as a songwriter for years in the industry, working with people not just in the Kpop industry but with Western artists too. It was something you were very well known for since people liked to collaborate with you a lot, forming friendships and business relationships with different singers and groups was intimidating but something you'd always longed to do.

A couple of companies had gone to you with the task of creating some love songs for their performers, all you were told about them was that the people that would be singing the songs would be female. You weren't allowed to know anything else except for that which was why Taehyung had offered to come by and help you with writing. Writing songs alone wasn't normally an issue but you'd been struggling a lot with this one, Taehyung offered to help as a way of couple bonding with you. Spending time together while getting to write about your love life in a song that would be able to be heard by people all over the world.

Tae: I got caught up, reschedule for next week? You smiled down at your phone, at least this time he text you telling you what had happened and you weren't left waiting. It wasn't like you were mad at him for being late or not showing up, you understood what it was like for him being so busy all of the time.

You: No problem baby, I'll head home after writing down some ideas x It wasn't as though it was a big deal having to write on your own but Taehyung felt bad for making you do it. He wanted to be the one there helping you out with the lyrics. In a way, it would be "your song" without everyone knowing that it was about your relationship. No matter how hard Taehyung had tried this week he couldn't seem to catch a break, no matter what he did everything seemed to pile on top of him more and more. Although he was supposed to have every Wednesday afternoon off he'd been so caught up and behind with recordings that he didn't have the chance to have the day off. It felt as though he was being rushed off his feet all of the time and had no chance for time to himself but he was going to make it up to you.

"Y/n?" You looked up when you heard an unfamiliar voice call out your name and smiled when you saw who was standing there. You couldn't believe it when you saw who it was it was as if the universe was throwing you a bone since Taehyung wasn't coming to meet you.

"Seungmin?" You questioned as you looked up at the boy you used to know really well. You and Seungmin had gone to the same school for years and got along well with one another but after graduating you grew apart and ended up losing touch with one another. He didn't look much different than before only a lot taller and his hair was dyed black rather than his natural brown colour but it felt so weird to see him after all this time.

"What brings you out here?" You laughed softly as you pushed the chair that was in front of you out from under the table so that he could sit down with you. It had been so long since you'd even seen him it felt odd to just bump into one another while you were out and around the city. You figured he would be too busy with his own group to come to smaller places like this. You'd watched him on his show and always sent moral support online whenever you could, not knowing if he'd see it but still wanting to be there for an old friend.

"I come here a lot, I've never seen you before it's normally some couple sitting here," You felt the heat rise up over your body as you thought about someone see you and Taehyung here together and you nodded. Clearly, no one knew it was Taehyung since he was always in a disguise, the same hat, sunglasses and mask to keep himself hidden away. The booth was normally reserved for you and Taehyung to sit in by the couple that ran the cafe, they always made sure your spot was free.

"Guilty, it's normally me and my boyfriend," You smiled at Seungmin and he smiled back, the huge puppy dog smile you loved so much spreading across his face.

"Do you want to join me?" You asked as you waved over the owner who had been staring at you wondering who it was that had decided to join you.

"You look busy, I don't want to interrupt anything..." Seungmin said slowly as he looked at the papers that were covering the small table. Even though he really wanted to stay with you and do nothing but sit with you all day he didn't want to stop you from doing your work. The truth was that Seungmin had always had a crush on you even when you were in school together, he'd always had a puppy crush on you. Although everyone else knew that it was obvious you were oblivious to it all, just thinking he was a close friend.

"I'm just working on a song but I'm struggling. Maybe you can help?" You suggested as you showed him everything you already had down which was half of a drawn spider-diagram with the words, "Lovesong," written in the middle.

"Love songs? Not your field of expertise?" He asked as he sat down in the chair and looked over the notebook, small doodles of hearts and things were drawn around the edges but not much else. It was a lot like most of your work in school with the doodles around the outside edges.

"You would think I'd be great at them but I always seem to write the same thing over and over again." You admitted as you scratched the back of your neck, normally you would be able to write non-stop but when it came to love you only knew one kind and you didn't want it to be one-note for everything.

"Can I get my usual please Zyliara?" You asked the owner who had already taken out her notebook and wrote it down before turning to look at Seungmin for his order.

"Oh, can I get a strawberry milkshake and taiyaki?" Seungmin thanked Zyliara and you laughed again at the thought of his order. Some things never changed after all the time in the world,

"It's still your favourite? I remember you would only ever order that whenever we went out for lunch in our final year," You smiled as you remembered fond memories from your time in school. Seungmin made the process of something that was normally terrible that much more bearable.

After catching up with one another the two of you finally got down to working on some love song lyrics. You had a small mp3 player with the track you'd made which made the process a lot simpler but what both of you had failed to notice was people seeing you both. Passing you in the nearby window and noticing that it was Y/n Y/l/n famous songwriter and Kim Seungmin from Stray kids. Once photos were taken of the both of you it spread like wildfire but neither of you had noticed since you were so lost in your own worlds. You'd gone home that night happy that the song was almost complete, you had some minor adjustments to make to the chorus and backing tracks but other than that the song was perfect. Seungmin had been a great help to you, you both exchanged numbers so you could catch up again and even work for him sometime in the future if his company allowed it.

"Alright! I'm coming jeez!" You called out to whoever was frantically ringing your doorbell at 8 am on a Thursday morning. It was far too early to be woken up like this, you scrambled over to the door and angrily swung it open to see who was standing there,

"Tae?" You questioned rubbing your eyes as he made his way into the apartment with an angry look across his face. He was red in the face as he burst through the door but you couldn't think why he would be so mad at this time in the morning. The last time you'd spoken to him was before you went to sleep after leaving him a voicemail telling him that you had finished the song you were working on and didn't need help anymore.

"I thought we were going to work together...I thought it would be nice to write about our love life..." You frowned as he spoke so fast you could barely understand what he was trying to say to you. Shutting the door to your apartment you walked further into the house to ask him what was going on,

"Tae what are you talking about-" You stopped questioning him when he pulled out his phone to show you articles after articles about you and Seungmin sitting together. Photos were splashed everywhere with different titles, one of them being,

"The collaboration of a lifetime." And another of you and Seungmin rather close together edited with hearts around your heads and labelled,

"Kim Seungmin and Y/n Y/ln spotted cosying up to one another...Another hot love life or another hot single coming to the charts?" You stared at the phone for a second before looking back at Taehyung.

"Tae, he's an old friend..." You tried to tell him but nothing was going to stop Taehyung from being hurt by the way fact that you were writing a love song with somebody else. Somebody that wasn't him.

"Does he even know you have a boyfriend?!" He snapped out jealously as he looked at you, throwing his phone down onto the sofa behind him as he waited for you to answer him. All he could think about when he saw the images was how everyone was going to assume you were a couple with him now. That his girlfriend was going to be seen with other male artists who were

"Yes, he's seen us together before but he doesn't know who you are since you're always in disguise. Tae we're just friends," You told him again as you tried to make it seem as though it wasn't a big deal. Which it wasn't. Seungmin had always been someone you saw as a younger sibling, nothing more and nothing less.

"But why did you finish the song with him...I thought we were going to do it together? We should have done it together, we're the couple here..." You knew why he was upset over it so you tried not to get angry at him for this.

"Tae. You've been so busy I thought you would have been relieved not to have to stress out over another song with me." You admitted as you took his hand in yours, trying to calm him down as much as you could you gave it a small squeeze. You didn't want this to turn into a huge unneeded fight between the two of you.

"It wouldn't have stressed me out...Writing with you is one of my dreams Y/n...We've spoken about it for months," He admitted as he looked at you you smiled weakly as you met his gaze, he looked tired. More so than usual now that you looked at him properly. He had bags under his eyes and looked like he hadn't slept much in weeks.

"How about we write a different song together, our own song? One for you and me alone?" You suggested as you reached up to cup his face in your hand and run your thumb over his skin. His eyes slowly fluttered shut and a tired smile began to grow on his face at the contact of your hand and he leant against it, snuggling against your hand as he enjoyed the feeling of being there with you.

"That sounds good." He moaned out tiredly, enjoying the feeling of your hand on his skin too much to fight back against it, not that he wanted to. The idea of you having your own song sounded better than someone else singing about your love together.

"Do you know what will sound better?" You asked him as you moved your hand down to his shoulders and began to massage him through his clothes,

"Hmm? What?" He hummed as he opened his eyes slowly to look at you,

"I run you a nice hot bubble bath, I give you a massage and then we order in? Let me make you feel good Tae," You suggested as you looked at him he nodded happily. Nothing sounded better to him right now than spending the entire day off. Since he'd already called in sick to the boys anyway, there was nothing back home that he had to get home to and he could spend all his time with you instead.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @fan-ati--c @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie @bisexualmess007 @innersooya @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1 @jin-from-the-block

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seokiloquy · 4 years ago

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Game Cartridges - Kenma Kozume

Au: Regular/Gaming

Requested

Tags/Warnings: GN! Reader, short and fluffy, Time Skip spoilers

Word Count: 2.1k+

"Lev, are you almost done?"

A deep raspy voice echoed into the gym, loud and authoritative, startling the volleyball players. Once all eyes turned your way, you laughed, letting your natural voice still the silent atmosphere. Your hand smacked the metal door as you hunched over, gasping for air between each series of laughs.

Lev, who had just landed from a spike, opened his mouth in a loud cheer at the sight of your slumped form in the door. “(Y/N)!”

You straightened your spine, sighing as you watched Lev’s nose get caught on the mesh net as he tried to limbo under it. He looked like a pig for a moment, before the bottom of the net snapped and Lev ungracefully fell on his face.

“Ow.”

As he laid flatly on the gym floor, Kuroo —who you managed to identify based on Lev’s description (though you did expect a comical beak to be attached to his muzzle)— walked over, thumbs playing with the waistband of his shorts. Before he started to talk, you leaned over, looking behind him to see a partially blond boy dig the toe of his shoe into your tall friend’s side. Kozume Kenma.

The rooster in front of you started to speak. “You sure gave us all a shock. Thought you were a janitor coming to kick us out,” he chuckled, lifting a hand off his hip to scratch the back of his head.

“Ya sorry, Lev just finds that voice creepy so I use it every now and then to scare him.”

Kuroo sidestepped as his hand moved to gesture you inside. “So, you’re a voice actor?”

“That’s the plan at least.” You bowed and walked to the bench that was pressed against the wall, a small bag swinging over your shoulder. The old man, Nekomata, gave you a wrinkly grin as you sat next to him, watching your hands as you pulled out a DS from your small bag.

Kuroo smiled, snapping his head to the clock before looking over his teammates.“Nekomata, should we start cleaning up?”

The couch hummed thoughtfully, turning his attention away from you and onto the team captain. “We still have a half-hour before our practice is officially over. How about we do 3 vs 3, to, ah, 7 points?” He then turned his attention to Lev, who was rubbing his nose as he got to his feet. “Pair up evenly for the beginning, the odd player out will be keeping track of scores and rotate into the next team. Got it?”

Lev raised his hand. “Can you explain the rotation again?”

You looked up from your handheld console to give your friend a deadpan look. Nekomata laughed before answering, “The odd player will take out a player of the next team and so on to keep teams fresh. Got it?”

The Silver hair boy hummed, standing to his full height. “Got it.”

As players dispersed randomly, not selecting any teammates, in particular, to play with, you were vaguely aware of the new bodies that came to sit alongside you on the bench. Instead of looking up to whichever boy had chosen to take the spot next to you, you kept your head down as you played on your DS.

“Ah.” Quiet

“Um.” Again.

Sighing you turned your head on a swivel to the blond boy who sat next to you. His head was downcast but through the dyed strands, you could see his eyes flicker from his fidgeting fingers to the device in your hands. His eyes shot up to meet yours before quickly turning away.

You wore a kind smirk. “Need something?”

Kozume turned his head slowly, pointing to your small bag that was laid open, exposing the variety of games you owned. In a calm voice, “You have lots of games, why are you playing Nintendogs?”

You laughed looking back down at your small virtual pet. “Well, a lot of those I haven’t started yet, Lev gave them to me yesterday as a gift. And well, I’m only going to be waiting for about 30 minutes for you guys to finish before we leave, so I don’t really want to start something new.”

You heard the clicking of the plastic game cartridges as Kozume riffled through them. He pulled out one, a Pokemon game you had yet to touch. “Play this.”

“But my dogs.”

“They aren’t real. Play this, it’s fun.”

Nekoma called for the teams to switch. Kozume stood up but waited for you to take the game out of his hand before he left for the court.

You sighed, pulling Nintendogs out of the DS and putting the Pokemon game in, Pearl, apparently.

“Your name is (Y/N), right?”

“(L/N) (Y/N), ya.”

Kozume hummed, before stepping onto the court, letting a sweaty Lev fall into the spot he had previously occupied.

Another day, another practice and you were back to sitting next to Nekomata, waiting. Occasionally, you looked up from your DS to see the two setters toss a ball up for the players to hit, watching as the players ducked under the net to collect their balls.

Once their final water break came around, Kozume, who had been eyeing your DS since you sat down, shuffled to sit beside you. “Ah, use the water attack.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, head tilting as you showed him your progress.

“Hmm, gym battles are mostly element-based, you want to use mostly water attacks for this one.”

Nodding, you clicked the option Kozume had so helpfully pointed out. “I know nothing about how to play this.” The battle ended, giving you a pretty badge, to which you realized there were more empty slots to fill. “Damn it.” You turned to see partially bleached blond chugging back his water. “Kozume, could you help me with the other gyms?”

“Kenma is fine. And I could, but you’d probably have to be here for that, you have to find the other gyms after all.”

The wince you wore caught his attention. Hissing you dropped your hands into your lap, still holding the sides of your plastic game. “I’m not sure how possible that would be. My luck is just running out isn’t it.” He kept watching, half-listening to Nekomata as he explained the cooldown drill before practice ended. You pulled out your little red flip phone from the side pocket of your back. “Put in your email. I’ll message you and give you my contact.”

Taking the device from your hand he quickly typed out his address before dropping it unceremoniously into your bag and running onto the court with his teammates. You smiled at the sight of his hair bouncing before your smile dropped and your head lowered to look back down at the game in your lap. The colours on the screen seemed a bit dimmer.

Where did the Pokemon go?

Kenma had quickly become your go-to Pokemon consultant. Always there in your time of need.

Which one?

He responded quickly, which helped.

Uh, one of the three ones? I was trying to catch it but it’s not there anymore. I tried dropping revival items and stuff but it’s not there.

(Y/N) did you kill it?

….Maybe?

Reload the game.

I’ve done that.

Did you save after you defeated it?

Messages with Kenma typically surrounded classes and videogames, more so the latter. With that though, came a sense of consistency with messages outside of active school hours and giving your mind a constant timeline to follow throughout the chaos that surrounded you.

Ya, I had to save my progress.

It took a minute for him to respond, but you could feel the sorrow radiating off him through the screen.

You’re going to need to restart the game if you want to continue.

Shit. Well then, got any other recommended games? Ideally RPGs.

Plenty.

After many practices with your presence sitting silently against the wall, Kenma was surprised when the end of practice came around, and you were nowhere in sight. Kenma pushed the rolling basket of volleyballs up next to Lev as they gathered up all the equipment.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” he asked, crouching down to pick up a stray ball.

Lev lowered his chin to see the setter clearly. He hummed, “Ah, I think it was called, New York?”

Kenma paused, dropping the volleyball into the basket with cold hands. “What?”

“They moved to the USA. I don’t think that they’re going to be there forever though. But Mr. (L/N) got a job there from what I remember. They were staying with my family before they moved.”

Kenma’s nose scrunched. “Why did I have to make friends with someone who was moving away? You’re terrible, Lev.” He gripped the blue fabric of the basket a bit tighter and began pushing it into the storage closet, grumbling.

“What did I do?”

After practice, Kenma quickly got to his phone, typing away as he walked home alongside Kuroo.

Your response, despite being in a different time zone, was quick.

IM SO SORRY I TOTALLY FORGOT!!! I just liked talking to you and it slipped my mind whenever you were around

Kenma sighed, washing away the anxious feeling in his chest.

Another email came through.

I’m only going to be here for a couple years, then I’m going to come back. Messages may be slow because of time and all, but I’ll always respond.

You didn’t lie that day. You were always quick to send a message back, but over time those messages stopped coming and you didn’t have the heart to send anything in return.

You’d ponder on it occasionally, hoping that all it was, was forgetfulness, or a changed contact. But after a couple years, it was easier not to think about it, and go on with life and pursuing your passion.

“Stop spamming the chat guys, please,” Kenma grumbled, wincing at the repetitive notifications that rang in his ear. Turning to look at the live responses, he paused the stream of messages to read over a few. “You’ll stop once I start playing? Fine, fine. Let me get it booted up.”

As he pulled up the Japan-made open-world RPG that had been released for Beta earlier that week, the chat went into a flurry of excitement, with various images and repetitive cheers rolling by.

Kenma turned to face his main screen as The main intro to the game played with a flurry of colour. The chat increased in speed as the two-player options appeared on screen, ready to be selected. When his mouth moved over one of the characters they moved, reciting a line.

“Oh they’re voices are nice.”

The chat exploded again.

(Y/N)

(Y/N)’s voice is great!

They do both of the MCs voices

All the talent

Selecting the male character, Kenma listened to the boyish tone, furrowing his boy as he caught sight of the name being repeated over and over again in the chat.

“(Y/N)? That sounds familiar, are they in an anime?”

The chat responded with a list.

Tilting his head, Kenma pulled out his phone as the game began to load, talking out loud for the viewers of his stream.

“(Y/N). that sounds familiar.” He entered the search for the game’s voice cast. Immediately seeing a familiar portrait at the top of the list.

The chat quickly caught on to Kenma’s look of surprise and started spamming again.

“(Y/N)?! Ah! I know them! It’s been years!”

Ignoring the chat and fully loaded game for a moment, Kenma smiled at the image of an older you on his phone screen. Putting down his phone and sitting straighter, he looked at the camera that was focused on his face.

“Hmm, this makes me want to play Pokemon. Maybe later. Time to start this.”

I was going to write a full-length fic with this au but…. You know how it goes.

Short and fluffy cause I have to get back into the groove of writing after 2 months. Ahaha. I finished all of One Piece this week (when I wrote this), 966(now 971) episodes thus far and all the movies. Makes me want to write for it. Maybe If Kiwi watches it I will.

….If I do, it’ll probably go on Ao3… but if you’re reading this and want me to…. Let me know… I’m tempted.

Kiwi. Watch One Piece so you can edit One Piece fanfiction that I’ll probably never write…. Unless. - Bacon

Maybeeee I can still edit without watching it thoughhhh. I’d edit whatever you’d me too - Kiwi

Unless!- Bacon

Posted: 25/04/2021

#Kozume Kenma #Kenma Kozume #kenma x reader #kenma kozume x reader #Haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #x reader #oneshot #oneshots #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu reader insert #reader insert #aus #haikyuu aus #fluff #haikyu #haikyu x reader #anime x reader #anime

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dewitty1 · 4 years ago

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Modern Love

tackytiger @tackytigerfic

Chapters: 8/8 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Andromeda Black Tonks, Teddy Lupin Additional Tags: Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Slow Burn, Oblivious Harry Potter, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, idiots to lovers, Politics, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Songfic, Friendship, Found Family, Mentions of Cancer, References to Illness, Chemotherapy, references to canonical child abuse, references to canonical deaths, References to Depression, Drunkenness, Sad Harry Potter, Church Services, Hymns, Atheism, Kissing in Church, Religious Discussion, Light Angst, Boxing & Fisticuffs, Minor Injuries, Blood and Injury, Gay vicar, Original Character(s), Original Character Illness, Magical Theory (Harry Potter), Scars, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Minor Draco Malfoy/ Sexy Tall Vicar, Draco Kisses Someone Briefly That’s All I Promise, Magic/Muggle Relations, Jealousy, Family Drama Series: Part 1 of Modern Love

Summary:

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

And it really doesn’t seem fair that Draco Malfoy is back in Harry’s life, all of a sudden, and even though he’s wandless, and living with Muggles, and making his mother cry with his lifestyle choices, he’s happy. So what’s he doing right, that Harry isn’t?

Because things don’t really change, do they? And if Harry can’t be happy, he’ll settle for a good night’s sleep, some posh antiques, and the opportunity to find out what Malfoy has been up to for all these years.

And that’s what starts it all.

Excerpt:

“Do you know,” he says conversationally, “when I was little, my mother used to wash my hair for me.”

“I did not know that,” Harry says gravely. “Though I can’t say I’m surprised. It was always particularly glossy-looking when we were at school.”

The disadvantage of Malfoy being so close, Harry discovers, is that it’s easy for him to find the softest bit of Harry’s tummy to pinch.

“I was actually quite a cosseted child. Spoiled rotten in fact. You may find that astonishing when you consider what a delight I was as a teenager. But my parents were busy people. My father ran the estate, and spent a lot of time in London, of course. So I didn’t see them much in the evenings. The nursery was in its own wing, naturally, and my nanny was very attentive.“

Harry snorts at that, but then thinks about tiny Draco with his face upturned toward Lucius, alight with worship, and feels a bit sad.

"So it was my favourite thing when I was small, having my mother give me a bath. It was always a very special treat. She’d sit on the floor with her sleeves rolled up and the front of her robes would get all wet and foamy from me splashing, but she never minded. And she’d keep spelling the water hot so I could stay in for as long as I wanted.”

Harry can’t imagine it. He vaguely remembers when he was tiny, standing shivering in the Dursleys’ avocado-coloured bath while Petunia sprayed him with tepid water from the shower head, scrubbed him with carbolic soap. And then after a while, she stopped even doing that. Harry used to sneak in and wash when no one noticed, used to pile his clothes in with the rest of the laundry, since he was the one doing it anyway. But he knows that as a child he was probably never all that clean. How did no one ever notice, he wonders, not for the first time. Why did no one care?

“And when I was tired and wanted to get out, she’d turn me around with my back to the edge—” Harry hears the snap of a bottle lid, smells something fresh and sharp, like the crush of sun-hot meadow grass (like Malfoy, he thinks) “—and she’d wash my hair for me.”

Then Malfoy’s hand is on Harry’s hair, and he starts to rub gentle, workmanlike circles from Harry’s crown down to his nape. He pulls his other hand back from around Harry’s body, though he stays close enough that Harry can still feel him against his back, and then he starts to work through Harry’s hair with both hands. His fingers are strong, raising bubbles at Harry’s temples, moving with pure intent through the curls that are flattened and lengthened by water, resting at his nape for a moment, gathering the curls in his fist then releasing them as he lathers, sluices, strokes.

It’s all Harry can do to keep quiet. Having Malfoy touch him like this—having anyone touch him like this—feels like too much. No one has ever laid hands on him like this, with such focus, like he’s the only thing that matters.

And he thinks of Narcissa crying at Andy’s kitchen table all those months ago, and how he had wondered why anyone would want to cry over Malfoy, of all people. How stupid he had been, how stupid and short-sighted, to think that Malfoy was unlovable just because Harry had him all neatly tidied away in his mind, relegated to uselessness by some weird little childhood rivalry.

Malfoy is probably the most lovable person Harry can think of, it turns out—he just hadn’t known it before. And in the end, it was just a case of Malfoy deciding to let Harry love him, that was all. Once Malfoy made that decision, there was nothing Harry could have done.

And now he knows how Narcissa feels, because his eyes are smarting with the sour threat of unshed tears. He wants to cry over arguing with Malfoy, who is one of his best friends and who he’s pretty sure he’d do anything for, and when did that��even happen?

Malfoy’s hands are still in Harry’s hair, and the lather is sliding down Harry’s body to puddle at their feet, and he doesn’t think anything has ever felt quite so intimate as the insistent pressure of Malfoy’s fingers on the hidden curves of bone behind Harry’s ears. Malfoy keeps talking.

“She was so gentle with me,” he says. His voice is nearly a whisper, but his mouth is so close to Harry’s ear that every word carries over the water. “She used to say, ‘I’ll take care of you, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.’”

He tugs his fingers through the lengths of Harry’s hair, lets the water rinse him clean, then lets his hands fall to Harry’s shoulders, his thumbs moving in restless circles over the notches of Harry’s spine.

“I’ll take care of you, sweetheart,” he says again, and it means something different this time—something for the now, rather than an echo of the past—and Harry hadn’t realised how long he’d been waiting to hear that. Usually, taking care of Harry is a duty. And some people hated him for it, and even the people who didn’t ended up getting hurt, dying.

Malfoy says it like it’s easy, like it’s a gift. Like it’s not a chore at all, just a simple pleasure.

Harry lets his head fall back onto Malfoy’s shoulder, so Malfoy’s face fits snug in the curve of Harry’s throat, and Malfoy’s arms drop down to fit around Harry’s waist again. Harry isn’t sure how long they stay there, but the water starts to run cool, and the creaking pipes make a resentful thumping sound when Harry fiddles with the dial to turn the heat up.

“When I came into the shower,” Malfoy murmurs, “I was going to kiss you.”

And Harry’s blood does that dizzying swoop that sometimes happens around Malfoy, only this time it all rushes straight to his wet naked cock, and he’s hard and getting harder at just the thought of a kiss, and he wonders distantly if instead of being mad about Malfoy, he’s just going a bit mad in general. It’s been a while since he’s been with anyone, after all. And it’s been even longer than that again since he’s been with someone he likes so much.

“Only I thought…” Malfoy’s low, amused voice is a torture device this close to his ear. “I thought if I kissed you, we would probably end up fucking, Which… you know. It might not be such a bad thing, to get it out of our systems. Right? And it would probably be really good.”

“Thanks,” Harry says distantly, absurdly.

“For you Potter, because it would be sex with me, please keep up. But then I got in here with you and I ended up talking about my fucking mother to you, telling you things I’ve never told anyone, and I could feel you getting all tense and weird about how those arsehole Muggles of yours never took care of you, let alone that prick Dumbledore who at least was supposed to be one of the good guys.”

He sighs again, moves his face away from where he’s still nuzzling Harry’s neck, and hooks his chin over Harry’s shoulder. His arms tighten around Harry’s middle.

“And I remembered that sex is easy. It’s so fucking easy, and because it would be good, it might feel like the right thing to do. But we’ve worked so hard at this, haven’t we? Yeah, I know it’s a horror to have to talk about it, but fuck it. We’re friends now, but it took so long to get here. Have you ever had to work so hard at something before?“

“Well. I mean, I did have to kill Voldemort when I was seventeen?”

“I’m including that, and I’m including your opening waltz at the Yule Ball because that was a study in despair for all concerned, including those of us who had to sit through it. Look, we took a while to get here, is what I’m saying. It probably felt like a terrible idea most of the time we were doing it. God, remember that first time at Fand’s? The first time my friends found out about you? Weasley’s birthday party? But then I didn’t even notice when the you part of it all started being something easy. And if we kiss, we have to figure the whole thing out again. So now I don’t know what to do. Because…” —the ghost of a hot breath against Harry’s ear, and the shivery feeling of Malfoy’s mouth moving close enough to touch Harry’s skin— “… I would really like to kiss you now, and I don’t know how to feel about that.”

( •ॢ◡-ॢ)-♡*✲ﾟ*｡⋆♡ོ

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kiarcheo · 3 years ago

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A Whole New World 5/10

Jane and Kat find out there is more to each other…and to the new world they have found themselves in.

Read on Ao3 too

——————————————–

‘Look what I’ve got?!’

Kat grabs the slips of paper Jane is waving in her face. They are train tickets. ‘Okay?’

‘Do you know what’s there?’

‘No?’ Kat is confused but can’t help smiling at Jane’s excitement.

‘Amusement park!’

‘Really?’

‘Yes! We’re going to make a day out of it.’

‘What about the others?’ As much as she chafes at being ‘controlled’, a whole day out, leaving the city, probably warrants a heads-up at the very least.

‘Sadly they are unable to join us as they all have prior commitments either in the morning or in the afternoon.’ Jane doesn’t sound sad at all.

‘You cheeky fox.’

‘Nobody expects subterfuge from the village idiot.’

‘Hey, that’s my role! You’re Dumb, but I’m Dumber.’ Kat swats at her.

‘We should get that on t-shirts.’

‘And you’re clearly the brain of our duo.’

‘Wow,’ Jane brings a hand to her chest, ‘nobody ever accused me of such a thing.’

‘Well, certainly you’re not the brawn. You might have built some muscles in your legs skating, but you still have noodle arms.’

‘Would you like a map?’ the cashier at the entrance asks as he hands them their wristbands.

‘Yes, please, it’s our first time visiting.’

‘Then you choose a good day. Mid-week we don’t get too many people so you can enjoy and explore the grounds without too much crowds...and queues.’

They move away from the gates before stopping.

‘Where to first?’

They both look around in awe.

‘Adult slides?’

They study the map trying to find them. ‘Here!’ a finger points the number corresponding to the picture. ‘Astroglide here we come!’

‘Should we try something else?’ Kat asks, picking up her mat, after they had gone down the slides various times. ‘We can come back,’ she adds seeing the yearning look Jane shoots the attraction.

‘Do you want to...’ Jane points towards the roller coaster.

‘Honestly?’

Jane nods.

‘Not really?’ Kat winces as even on the ground they can hear the people currently on it screaming their heads off.

‘Thank God,’ Jane breaths out. She is not keen on being that far up in the air. She is sure it’s safe and all, but like with airplanes, she doesn't really want to test it herself.

They keep walking around. ‘What about this?’ Jane asks stopping in front of a garish bright structure that announces itself to be a fun house.

‘Never again,’ Kat pants out, face flushed and hair escaping her ponytail. ‘Never been this close to dying for a second time!’

‘There is nothing fun about dying of a heart attack,’ Jane agrees, hands clutching her chest. ‘At the cost of sounding like an old lady–’

‘Yes.’ Kat nods. She can’t find it in herself to muster up her usual teasing about Jane’s age. It’s like she has lost her sass together with her breath. ‘Let’s find something nice and calm.’

The hall of mirrors proves to be the right choice, leaving them breathless but this time with laughter.

‘Are they crashing into each other on purpose?’ Kat looks on confused as colourful little cars bump into others much to the hilarity of everyone involved.

‘Fancy a drive?’ Jane elbows her. ‘Could be a literal crash course on driving.’

Kat rolls her eyes at the pun, but soon they find themselves seated onto a small, pink bumper car, Kat at the wheel.

‘You know how you said you have no plans to get a car?’ Jane asks, bracing herself, as once again the car jerks, the forward movement immediately stopping as Kat tries to figure out how to drive it. ‘Please stick to that.’

‘Let’s see how you do then!’

She makes to stand up, car still in the middle of the floor with people bumping into them.

‘Maybe we should pull over to one side before swapping?’ Jane throws an arm around her waist, stopping her.

‘That's the whole problem!’ Kat snarks. ‘If I could do that, we wouldn’t be swapping.’

Thankfully the time runs out and all cars slow down. Some people leave theirs, new people getting in, others stay waiting for the new session to start. And Kat and Jane trade places.

‘Never getting into a car with you,’ Kat informs her cousin as they leave the attraction.

‘What? Why? I was good!’ And she was. In the thick of the action, skilfully – especially for a first timer – trying to evade getting bumped while chasing others, and gleefully and viciously crashing into them.

‘Because I saw the glint in your eyes. You make for a scary driver. And I bet that you would have road rage.’

‘What happened?’

Jane and Kat, who had just returned home, stare at Anna confused.

‘Your...’ the fourth queen motions with her finger to her forehead.

The cousins look at each other. Then realisation dawns on Kat. Indeed, there is a red mark on Jane's forehead.

‘She walked into a glass wall,’ Kat reveals with a giggle.

‘All your fault.’

‘Mine?’

‘Yes! Who distracted me?’

‘I just called your name. It was you who decided to turn around to flip me off, and consequently headed straight into it. How is that my fault??’ Kat protests. ‘Also, headed....because you went with your head in first, you got it?’

Jane storms off.

‘She doesn’t want to admit that the pun was brilliant and she loved it,’ Kat tells Anna before going to the kitchen.

‘Aaaahh!’ Jane screams jerking away. ‘Bloody hell, K, it’s cold!’

‘Well, it is ice.’ Kat holds the pack up with a grin. ‘For your head.’

Jane snatches it from her. ‘That was not my head.’

‘I thought about throwing it at you...’ Kat plops down on the bed.

‘How is slapping it on my nape any better?’ Jane grumbles but joins her on the bed, scooting towards the wall to lean against it. She tilts her head backward so that the ice pack stays in place without holding it there.

‘Does it hurt?’ Kat asks, genuine concern in her voice.

‘Not really. Only if I furrow my brows.’

‘Then don’t,’ Kat says, moving so that she is in the same position, back against the wall.

‘Thanks for the advice, Doctor Howard,’ Jane remarks drolly. ‘What are you going to do?’ she then asks out of the blue.

‘Uh?’

‘The number.’

‘Oh,’ Kat hums in realisation. ‘Nothing.’

‘You are not going to call?’

‘I don’t even know her. All we exchanged was, well, our orders and some small talk.’ And then as they were leaving, the waitress had handed her a slip with her phone number, along with the receipt for their food. ‘And I live in a different city anyway.’

‘So it’s not because it’s a girl?’

Kat stiffens. An uneasy silence falls as she stares at her lap, picking at the skin around her nails until Jane’s hand covers them, stilling their movement.

‘It’s okay.’

'Is it?‘

‘Of course.’ Jane hasn’t heard such vulnerability in Kat’s voice...well, she never did. She IS cagey with her feelings, and even once they got closer, Kat had switched from not talking about how she feels to talking about it sarcastically. ‘I don’t care who you like, as long as they treat you well.’

Kat twists around to hug her. ‘Best sister I could have asked for.’

‘Cousin. Second cousin.’

‘Shut up,’ Kat grumbles. ‘You know what I meant.’ She releases her. ‘We were having a moment and you ruined it.’

Jane knows Kat is not really upset, but– ‘I love you too.’

‘Now,’ she drawls, ‘I never said that.’

Jane shoves Kat, who ends up sprawled on the bed. ‘Now who is the one ruining the moment?’

‘Ow!’ Kat rubs her arm. ‘I did not throw the ice pack at you! And a book hurts more.’

A flash of remorse appears on Jane’s face, before vanishing. ‘You deserve it.’

‘I deserve to have a book chucked at me?’

‘Yes. Because you told me to read it.’

Kat picks it up to look at the title. ‘I just told you about the series.’ She had not read it herself. ��But I thought you liked the first one?’

‘Exactly. Except the others are terrible.’

‘I’m…sorry? But I can’t really do anything about that?’

Jane still looks quite...perhaps not upset, but annoyed.

‘Want to talk about it?’

The regret starts fifteen minutes into Jane’s rant.

‘Am I right?’

Kat blinks at her. ‘I have not read any of them, so I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

Jane deflates.

‘How you tried checking online?’ Kat suggests. ‘It was a really popular series so I‘m sure that there are other people who didn’t like it...maybe you can find some to complain with?’

‘You were right,’ Jane announces, walking into Kat's room.

‘I usually am,’ Kat says cheekily, ‘but about what?’

‘There are lots of people hating those bloody books. Or better, the wasted potential of them. They are even writing alternative storylines and endings!’

‘Are you going to do it too? I remember you having lots of opinions and ideas on how the story should have gone.’

Jane stares at her for a long moment. ‘Do you think I could?’

‘Of course.’ Kat has no hesitation whatsoever.

‘Really?’ Jane seems to have plenty of them though. ‘I mean, I know I’m not Cathy.’

‘Just because she was the one who wrote in the past, it doesn’t mean she is the only one allowed to write now,’ Kat points out. ‘Perhaps we should all die again soon too, since–’

‘Fine, fine, I get it, no need to–’ Kat has a point, but still... She blows out a breath. ‘But I’ve never done it. Not now that we’re back, and certainly not in the past.’

‘Everyone has to start somewhere. And it’s not like you have to publish or anything like that, you know? If you want to write, write. Even if you do it just for yourself.’

#six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #fic: a whole new world #jane and kat #six fanfiction #six jane seymour #six katherine howard #six fanfic #six the musical fanfic #my six posts #six writing #six fic #six the musical fic #mywork #my ideas #my posts #sixfic

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plant-dad-sulu · 3 years ago

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BRO why do u have my dream hair 😭 tell me ur secrets

lmaooo okay I haven't had that cut or colour in years now (i was actually growing it out at the time so that was a transitional haircut and had been out in the sun/humidity all day so uh... not great), but I can give some pointers if u really want to know! (these would assume you already have curls because... well... i do, and wouldn't know how to get there from straight or wavy) Tips for curly hair under the cut:

only shampoo once or twice a week: This prevents your hair from drying out and getting damaged (if your problem is that cutting out shampoo makes ur hair greasy, that's okay, it's likely because your scalp is used to replacing the oils you're shampooing out. After a week or two it'll realize it doesn't have to produce that much oil and your hair will feel much healthier) every other day is conditioner or nothing

get a good leave-in conditioner: The amount you use depends on you. I used 2 pumps of 2 different conditioners after every shower. you can also use gels or mousses, but I don't like them

comb wet and style your hair damp: a lot of hair people recommend only combing dry because it prevents hair loss, but for curly hair you have to comb damp or wet because curly hair is drier and prone to tangling so dry combing causes damage

Combing upside down helps increase volume at the roots! I have very flat hair, especially now that it's longer so this one is v important for me

Try to avoid separating curls while they're drying: you'll just cause damage and frizz, separation should be done during styling and after fully dry so you can see where it needs it and can avoid separating curls that don't need it (i separate while it's drying and it's such a bad habit lmao it feels like ur really doing something until it's dry and you realized you messed up)

if you use a hair drier get a diffuser! It helps hold curl patterns and gets the roots dry. Look up videos to help you learn how to use it properly, there's lots out there (also get heat protection cream to prevent damage and let your hair air dry whenever you can, it looks nicer I promise)

Bleaching and colouring changes the texture of your hair. I've dyed my hair a lot and it always feels different after. Dye generally makes it thicker and bleach makes it thinner and drier so if you change ur hair colour give yourself enough time to get used to styling it like that if you've got events coming up. I've found bleach gives me more volume but colour gives me less frizz and the next day after colouring always feels a bit weird to comb because it's just a little bit different from what you're used to

Silk pillowcases or caps: ok I dont do this one, but I should. It basically just prevents breakage while you sleep and helps keep your hair looking nice so you don't have to restyle (I just tie it up the next day idc)

Go to hairdressers who know how to cut curly hair. I've shopped around A LOT and still haven't found a place I like, but I will tell you, it makes a huge difference. The worst haircut I ever got in my life was from a lady with pin-straight hair who kept trying to comb mine flat and this was, unfortunately, the week before grad. I wound up having to tell her to stop, but I was too late already, I spent a good while in the car trying to fix it, but alas, there wasn't enough left (be vocal!! Don't let people do weird shit to your hair without your permission! Don't be like me, it's bad!) Best haircut? From a lady who had natural waves, which wasn't ideal, but still better!

Your hair behaves differently from other people's so do some experimentation! Watch a lot of videos and do research until you find a routine that works for you! I never had anyone teach me so I learned entirely from youtube and hair blogs and it took some time, but i got there! I've had to change my routine several times just based on how long my hair was, there is no one way to do it perfectly. Even showering in different cities can change things! I had great definition when I was in uni and terrible when i was back home and a big part of that was the water was different (not to mention air quality in the house, humidity in the region, etc etc there's so many factors, don't stress too much, go with the flow and take a hair elastic with you)

And finally, uh, get layers. Or shave part of ur head. Do whatever you want and don't be scared of trying something! It's hair! It'll grow back! Have fun with it! 💚

#nottrek #hair care #curly hair #mine #this wound up really long i'm sorry #thank u for the compliment #i get asked a lot if my curls are natural #i once had someone on a but assume the bleached blonde was natural but the curls were a perm #bus*#her basis for this was that i have pale eyebrows lmao #like ma'am i've got roots take a second look #ANYWAYS thanks lmao

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amarantine-amirite · 3 years ago

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Red Flags

It only took 30 days for Emily‘s life to go down the tube. And it all started with a guy named Roy.

Roy had several siblings, one of which went to middle school with Emily. Roy’s sister was a grade or two below her. Everyone in his family was very involved in the community, especially in sports. All of them played at least one sport or another at some point in their lives. The exception was his grandfather, but even then, he trained dressage horses.

Roy met Emily because his sister thought it would be funny to teach him to swear in Chinese. The words she showed Roy were all different ways of saying “I love you.” When he supposedly swore at Emily, she knew he said, “I love you."

Maybe if the other kids in the neighbourhood had not bullied Emily so persistently or so badly, she wouldn't have fallen for Roy on the spot. Maybe if this hadn’t been the first time a peer said something nice to Emily, she would not have fallen in love with Roy so quickly. But after that day, Roy and Emily were in love.

Roy moved away a month after Emily started high school. He and Emily continued to stay in touch until the fall. After that, Things dropped off a cliff. It worried Emily because she thought that she was bothering him. She feared that he either lost interest or had found someone else. She always dismissed those feelings because she thought he would perceive her as clingy or jealous. Words like clingy and jealous were just two more words that people could use against her.

That year at Christmas, Emily got the best present she could imagine: Roy finally wrote back. His email read: I’ve just been in a really bad place lately, but I’m getting better. I still care about you. I’m sorry I haven’t been answering your messages. I still love you.

Emily felt a wave of relief pour over her. Roy still had feelings for her! Over the next 30 days, Emily and Roy reconnected. She fell in love with him all over again.

All red flags look like flags when you look at someone through rose-coloured glasses. Nowhere is that more true than in a long-distance relationship. If your lover is not in the same room as you, how do you know that they are who they say they are? It could be an impostor for all you know.

Something was wrong with those communications. Roy didn't write like this. All the emails that Emily got since Christmas had lots of emojis and words spelled correctly. Roy had terrible spelling. It was so bad Emily once said that it looked like LOLcats. Not only that, there were no GIFs anywhere. If words got too hard to spell, Roy would just use a gif. But Emily didn’t notice. She was just happy to hear back from him.

And then came the video chats. She really should have noticed that something suspicious was going on during the video chats. Roy never had his video on. He had different excuses as to why he had his video feed off, such as "my webcam's broken" and "I accidentally dyed my hair blue". They were all lies, and if they were ever believable, they stopped being believable after a while.

And that was assuming the video chats happened when they were supposed to. Roy frequently postponed the video chats, if he didn't outright cancel them. Some of his excuses for doing so held even less water than those that accounted for why he didn't have his camera on. Worse still, these kept changing. One day, he would say one thing, and the next, he would say something else. Sometimes, he didn't bother to give an excuse.

Whoever this was, he had something to hide. This wasn't Roy, but someone pretending to be Roy. Emily was just so happy to hear his voice again she didn't even notice he didn't sound like himself.

It all came crumbling down on January 22nd. That was the day that Roy had invited her to the winter formal at his new school. That school usually held the winter formal around Christmas, but it got delayed this year. The school put it off so frequently that nobody thought that it would ever happen. When the school finally announced the winter formal would take place on January 24th, it was a huge deal.

She accepted the invitation. Enthusiastically. It meant meeting Roy for the first time in a long time.

She didn't notice suspicious discrepancies in the directions to get to the school. Had she not been so over-excited, she would have checked the thing on Google Maps. If she did, she would have seen that it led to the half-decayed exoskeleton of a motel. Also, if she had googled Roy’s school, she would have seen the bulletin that said that students weren’t allowed to bring dates from outside the school. Had Emily paid attention to all the red flags, she would have seen right away that this whole business with the winter formal was a trap.

Instead, Emily walked right into it. It was like she had taken two pills that make it so if there's a cherry pie in a bear trap, she couldn’t see the bear trap and she grabbed the cherry pie that she saw right next to her because she grossly underestimated the odds of there being a bear trap around the cherry pie. And there would be no going back.

She woke up with a fuzzy picture of her surroundings. She knew it was snowy and cold in the field where she lay and the sky had a rust-coloured cast to it. Other than that, she had nothing. Poor Emily had blood on her hands and cuts all over her lips.

She didn't just feel physical pain. She hallucinated invisible bunnies who looked like they wanted to bite her. There’s no end to this suffering, is there? she thought, God, I’m so dumb.

She could see someone out there fixing their car. “Whatever you do, don’t even think of leaving me behind,” she shouted.

Thankfully, those people offered her a ride home once they got the car up and running. Those 30 days change Emily's life for the worst. If her peers hadn't ruthlessly bullied her before, they certainly did now. Worse, everyone thought she deserved it. And all because she trusted the wrong person.

As for Roy, nobody knew what happened to him.

@promptsgalore

#writing #writers #writers on tumblr #short fiction #short story #Liminal Space

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jadelotusflower · 3 years ago

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Roundup - September 2021

This month: Saving Fish From Drowning, Alice in Wonderland/Through the Looking Glass, Anne Boleyn, Cruella, The Chair

Reading

Saving Fish from Drowning (Amy Tan) - I've always enjoyed Tan's work (particularly The Joy Luck Club, both the book and film) - Fish is somewhat of a departure, following a group of American tourists in Myanmar, narrated by their recently deceased friend Bibi Chen. The novel begins with a preface in which Tan explains she drew inspiration for the novel based on real events chronicled by a San Franciscan psychic's "automatic writing" channeling Chen's spirit (in truth a complete invention on Tan’s part, both literary device and metaphor).

Bibi is a compelling narrator, full of wry commentary of her friends as they bumble their way through their trip, the tone of the novel quite light despite some of the dark subject matter around the political situation in Myanmar (the novel was written in 2005 and set several years earlier) and the nature of intervention - the title referring to fisherman who "save fish from drowning" by netting them. It was at times difficult to keep track of all twelve (!) of the main characters and who was who outside of the few who get the most attention of the narrative.

An interesting read, about the stories we tell ourselves and others, and the fictions we believe for comfort and hope.

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland/Through the Looking Glass and what Alice found there (Lewis Carroll) - I've been making more of an effort to work on my novel lately, which makes some reference to these works so thought it was due for a re-read. It seems impossible to consider these separate novels given how conflated they have become in pop culture - even the Disney film takes elements from both - they act as either a duology, or alternatively a single story told in two parts.

I personally much prefer Looking Glass, perhaps because I imprinted on the 1985 miniseries as a child (which adapts both novels, but we only had the second part on tape) - best known for it's celebrity cameos in silly costumes - including Sammy Davis Jnr, Donald O'Connor, Ringo Starr, and Carol Channing, among others, and the danger of the Jabberwocky as a manifestation of Alice's fears quite a nice idea that isn't found in the original text.

Perhaps Looking Glass, while remaining absurdist, is more cohesive than Wonderland with the chess motif and central motive for Alice to reach the Eighth Square and become a queen. I do however find the constant poetry tedious, and wonder whether both Wonderland and Looking Glass are better remembered for the concepts rather than the actual text.

Watching

Anne Boleyn (episodes 1-3) - I didn't think we needed another film/show about Anne, but I was always going to watch it. This series relies upon familiarity with history as it begins with Anne's final, doomed pregnancy - opening with the haunting words “Anne is the most powerful woman in England - she has just five months to live.”

There's nothing especially new here; rather a mood and character piece as Anne's isolation and desperation grows. It is of course built around the central, compelling performance of Jodie Turner-Smith, in every single scene and not afraid to shy away from Anne's sharper edges while remaining profoundly sympathetic, surrounded by a court of whispers, her existence on a knife's edge. We know only what Anne knows, and we see the smaller, heartbreaking moments usually passed over in other adaptations - in her grief following the stillbirth, Anne sits up in bed almost catatonic, milk leaking from her breasts, her attempt to walk back the infamous “dead man's shoes” comment, and the long days of her imprisonment.

Then there’s the beautiful costumes - in a court of dark furs, Anne wears bold primary colours and velvets that catch the light, that them become more subdued prints once she is in the Tower.

The other notable feature is the casting - described as "identity conscious" rather than colour-blind, representative of the othering of Anne and her relatives. Another standout is Thalissa Teixeira as Anne's cousin Madge Shelton, fleshed out as her confidant and the only one who remains true to her. It's a fresh perspective and a worthwhile watch, particularly for Turner-Smith's performance.

Cruella (dir. Craig Gillespie) - Spoilers. I wasn’t planning on bothering with this, but my sister wanted to watch it and I’d been told by several people that it was actually quite good. Look, I'm not saying they lied, I just think they were able to look past things that I was not.

Because actually, the core story has potential and the film has enjoyable elements (notably Emma Thompson), but simply falters every time they try and shoehorn references to the source material, and there are some truly egregious attempts - Roger is the Baroness’s lawyer for some reason? And writes the familiar Cruella De Vil song about how awful she is when she's just given him a puppy?

It doesn’t work as a prequel, or villain origin story, or even a reboot, since Cruella’s character journey is over by the end of the film (I have no idea what the purported sequel is going to be about) - in fact "Cruella" is just a persona Stone's Estella adopts (complete with a terrible affected accent), and there is no conceivable way for her to become the wannabe puppy murderer we know from the book or any of the film adaptations. Oh, and Pongo and Perdita are siblings! Well done, Disney. Slow clap for you.

Also, with a runtime of 2 hours 16 minutes it is Interminable and the whole thing is saddled with a terrible, unnecessary voiceover. Seriously, they should show this in film class to demonstrate when v/o hinders not helps.

They were likely going for a Maleficent-style re-imagining, but where that succeeded (somewhat) in a completely new retelling right down to a different ending to the source material, this wants to have it's cake and eat it too - it wants to have the Cruella aesthetic (the car, the hair, Hell Hall, the camp accent) but doesn't ever let her be a villain, or even the beginnings of a villain, but that's that's reason she's so memorable in the first place. It puts all the pieces in place for the story we know, and yet that story simply cannot happen with this version of Cruella.

In the end, it's a story of a fundamentally decent person who maybe goes a bit overboard in retaliating to bullies, and swindles a sociopath to reclaim what's rightfully hers. Cruella De Vil! I just couldn't get over this fundamental misapplication of the source material.

In many ways, it almost feels as if this was pitched as a sequel, with Cruella in the Baroness role. It would have fit a lot better with the aesthetic, the time period, and the concept of punk disruption of classic fashion. Or, it was a completely unrelated story of a plucky orphan who rises in the fashion world, that at some point was grafted onto the Dalmatians property. Either one would have worked better, frankly.

I am probably being overly harsh. If you switch off your brain and enjoy the clothes it’s fine. But honestly, if you want your live action Cruella fix, just watch the Glenn Close version, because it is superior in every way.

The Chair (season 1) - I watched this for Sandra Oh, and I was not disappointed, because I got to watch Sandra Oh. On the other hand...it's not that I didn't like it, I just...wish it had been better?

The story revolves around Ji-Yoon Kim, the first woman (let alone woman of colour) to become Chair of English at a "minor Ivy" university, as she tries to juggle the clash of old style academia and new, raise her daughter as a single mother, and deal with a series of controversies caused by one of her professors (and love interest). It's the latter I feel sucked up way too much time and was ultimately unsatisfying - particularly the end, which was played like a moral victory but really rubbed me the wrong way. If this gets a season 2, I hope they dump Jay Duplass' fuckup sadsack because hoo boy, am I sick of that kind of male character.

But Sandra Oh is wonderful.

Writing

The Lady of the Lake - chapter 5 posted, 4215 words (10,261)

Against the Dying of the Light 1954 words (11,976)

Here I Go Again - 414 words (12,948)

Novel - 1039 words (1484)

Total this month: 7,622

Total this year: 48,435

#roundup #reading watching writing #september roundup

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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When We Went From Friends to This, Part 1: Week 1 (Branjie) - Writworm42

A/N: Fic summary: At the start of their first year of college, roomies Brooke and Vanessa have to quarantine together for two weeks. Fourteen days is a lot of time to bond, but it’s also a lot of time for things to get complicated.

For the lovely Ortega–merry super belated Christmas <3 Thank you Holtz for betaing & suggesting a song for the title, Bean for answering my questions about whether UK stereotypes are true, and Ortega for being patient fdhsjkf

Title from Paper Rings by Taylor Swift

TW for implied weed use

Day 1

“I still can’t believe you gotta go in-person to all these classes, you sure there ain’t a Zoom option?”

Vanessa snorts, and she’s pretty sure that Silky can hear her roll her eyes on the other end of the line. “For dance majors? Bitch, you know that ain’t gonna work.”

But Silky is too stubborn to be fazed by common sense. Instead, her voice gets a little more urgent. “We’re only first year. Start out with something that doesn’t need to be done in-person, then switch majors to dance once this is all over. C’mon, I can’t have my bestie dying Miss ‘Rona here!”

“Christ, you sound like my mom.” Vanessa huffs. “Look, the uni is being very careful, okay? Why else do you think I gotta quarantine for two weeks ahead of the start of term? Plus all clubs have been suspended and meals and showers are booked with time slots for each room. I’m literally seeing no one except the people in my classes and the bitch I’m sleeping next to.”

“But—“

“Listen, I’m at the dorm now, so I gotta go. I’ll call you later, alright?”

“Bye.” Silky’s begrudging send-off brings a flash of guilt to Vanessa’s chest, but only for a moment. Pushing her feelings aside, she hip-checks the door to the dorm building, trying to make her way inside without disrupting the large box she’s holding with one arm or the suitcase she’s trailing behind her with the other.

“Hi, I’m Vanessa Mateo, I think I’m supposed to be room 96?”

The suspiciously stoned-looking guy at the front desk barely looks up from the computer as he slides the keycard across his desk, and at first, Vanessa hovers, waiting for him to launch into a spiel about rules, but a moment passes without him saying anything, so she surges on. The building is a bit of a maze, its cement walls cold and drab despite the colourful posters plastered across it in a desperate attempt to make it more hospitable. By the time she finally reaches her room, she’s almost grateful that she’ll have to stay in it 24/7, given the impression the building and staff have left so far. No matter, though, right now, all she wants is to put down what she’s carrying and collapse onto her bed.

She shifts uncomfortably for a moment, trying to balance her box while also maneuvering her card towards the keypad, but the effort is unsuccessful–when she finally manages to tap the card, she’s met with another obstacle, having to actually open the door without any free arms.

It’s probably not the best impression to kick the door open and promptly drop almost all of your stuff before falling on top of it. Scratch that, it’s definitely not the best impression. Especially when Vanessa looks up at the owner of the voice that’s holding back laughter, asking if she needs help in a soft, calm twang.

Her roommate is tall, blonde, and nothing short of gorgeous. And even as she makes a motion as simple as offering a hand, Vanessa can tell that this girl is the picture of poise and grace.

“What’s your name?” The girl watches with piercing eyes as Vanessa dusts herself off, fighting off a fierce blush as she straightens up and catches her breath.

“Vanessa, but my friends call me Vanjie.” She extends a hand again, and this time, the girl seems rather shy as she takes it, nervously brushing a piece of hair behind her ear.

Huh.

“Nice to meet you, Vanessa. I’m Brooke.”

Day 2

Brooke, as it turns out, is the polar opposite of Vanessa–quiet and reserved, so introverted that Vanessa has to wrestle information out of her. What Vanessa learns about her is interesting - she’s a dance major too, she’s from Toronto, she decided to study here because she wants RAD training as well as to get trained in other styles. She plans to minor in costume design, having an affinity for and attraction to any pattern that involves leather or lace (a kinky detail that Vanessa, much to her shame and embarrassment, files away hungrily). She has two cats back home, Apollo and Henry, that she misses terribly. Everything else Vanessa knows, though, had to be acquired sneakily over their first night together, more observation and speculation than actually asking. Like how Brooke must be a fan of Schitt’s Creek , given that she put out a ‘ fold in the cheese ’ sign on her desk. Or how Lana is probably her favourite artist, because she has a weird habit of not checking if her air pods are actually connected to the school’s shitty bluetooth network and it’s always the first couple notes of Summertime Sadness that play from her laptop before she catches her mistake. Or how her ass is one of the best Vanessa’s ever seen, because Brooke has no shame changing in front of her–

She strikes that part from her mind almost as quickly as she thinks it in the first place. The important thing is, she’s got to spend two weeks with only Brooke to keep her company, and if they stay in this silence, it’s going to get very awkward very soon.

“So… How d’you like Scotland so far?” Vanessa starts, grimacing internally at how stupid the question sounds. But Brooke doesn’t seem to mind; in fact, she smiles kindly as she looks up from her computer, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear again.

“To be honest, I haven’t really seen much of it… Pretty much came right here after I came off the plane.” Her smile turns apologetic as her face flushes pink, clearly self-conscious about the lacklustre answer. That’s okay, though; Vanessa can still work with it.

“Probably a long flight, huh? What’d you do to keep yourself entertained? Or are you a plane sleeper?” Vanessa adds with a teasing grin, and much to her delight, Brooke laughs.

“Nah, I can never sleep on planes. Unless I knock myself out with Gravol or something, at least.” Brooke chuckles, giving a small wink. “I just read a bit, then the airline showed The Notebook, so I watched that.”

“I love that movie!” Vanessa gasps, “I swear I’ve probably seen it, like, three thousand times. It’s just so–”

“Romantic!” Brooke finishes. “The poor guy next to me must have hated me for all the crying I did.”

Her eyes are alight with excitement, and Vanessa can’t help but pick up on it, because finally , the perfect topic, and Brooke likes Vanessa’s favourite movie, and maybe she likes other stuff that Vanessa likes, and they can talk about that together, and–

“So what’s your favourite scene?” Brooke asks eagerly, and Vanessa claps her hands over her face.

“That’s the worst question to ask me, bitch!” Vanessa groans, but grins behind her hands when Brooke laughs, a string of apologies flowing between giggles.

“Sorry, sorry, I should’ve known.” Brooke puts her hands up in mock surrender. “Too many to choose, right?”

“Right.” Vanessa giggles a little too. “Although…” she brings herself up on her elbows as soon as the idea hits her, and for some reason, her heart skips a beat as she formulates the question, a rare flash of nerves hitting her square in the chest.

“Maybe a rewatch would be a good reminder?” Before she can verbalize what she’s thinking, Brooke beats her to the question, blushing again and chewing on her lip.

It’s cute, how shy she is, and Vanessa makes a mental note that she’ll have to help her new roomie break herself of those habits.

“Yeah, lets.” Vanessa smiles warmly, sliding off her bed to grab her laptop from her desk. “Here, we can use my computer.”

She’s only just grabbed the computer and turned around when she falters, realizing with a sinking dread what decision is next.

Either she has to invite Brooke onto her bed, or Brooke has to make room on hers.

It’s just a bed, it’s just a bed, it’s not like you’re inviting her to snog, it’s just sitting down to watch a movie…

So maybe Vanessa’s never had anyone but her friends lounge on her bed before, and her friends certainly don’t make her feel as nervous as Brooke does. Maybe Vanessa’s bed is a little small and Brooke is a little pretty, and the thought of being that close together makes her mouth go dry. And maybe the sudden uncertainty in Brooke’s eyes, too, is imagined, or else doesn’t mean anything that Vanessa thinks it could mean, rejection or reciprocation or suspicion of what Vanessa’s feeling. None of that changes anything right now, because Brooke is smiling again, tapping the space beside her bed to beckon Vanessa over.

“C’mon, let’s watch. If you want, we can even try to find the director’s cut.”

Day 3

Vanessa’s fast-developing fascination with Brooke’s ass isn’t helped by the sight of Brooke stretching on the floor that greets her as she comes back from her shower.

“Oh, hey!” Brooke lifts her leg up into a needle stance, peering between her legs before shifting her weight onto one hand and waving to Vanessa with the other. Her hair is still wet from her turn in the showers, and her current position is causing stray drops of water to trickle onto her arms, making it all too easy for Vanessa to give into temptation and watch as the droplets course over each one of Brooke’s muscles.

Bloody Hell. Vanessa’s got to do a better job of keeping her hormones under control.

“Hey yourself.” She tries to keep her voice casual as she grabs a pair of PJs from her bedside drawer, turning away from Brooke to change.

It’s strange. Vanessa never used to be as shy as she feels now, self-conscious of her nakedness as she drops her robe and begins to re-dress. A few months ago, this would’ve been no problem at all; to be honest, she’s not sure it would be now if she had a different roommate. But with Brooke next to her, watching her or not watching her at all (she can’t decide what’s worse, really), it’s different. She can’t help but wonder what she must look like, what Brooke must see if she’s actually looking. What does it feel like, being in Brooke’s head? What does everything seem, looking through Brooke’s eyes?

But Brooke is comfortable changing around her, and even though there’s no actual rule that says so, Vanessa feels obligated to feel comfortable, too. Partially because if it’s a non-issue, then feeling embarrassed about it might fade. And if that fades, then so will the way she feels every time she lays eyes on Brooke at all.

Right?

Vanessa whips around quickly, the sudden, eerie feeling of being watched making her forget that she doesn’t have a shirt on yet.

“ Christ! ” Brooke hits the floor with a thud, flushing beet red as she scrambles to cover her eyes. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to see–”

“I’ve seen yours, now you get to see mine.” Vanessa rolls her eyes and laughs, hoping that the light tone and faint smirk she forces herself to slap on disguises how secretly mortified she feels. And thankfully, the comment does work; the redness dissipates from Brooke’s face, and she giggles a little, though her gaze stays firmly planted on the ground until Vanessa slides on her t-shirt. Just like that, the awkwardness fades from the air, and things are back to business as usual as Vanessa begins to comb out her hair. Brooke finishes stretching, Vanessa goes to the half-bath to blow her hair dry. Brooke sits at her desk and types intently, Vanessa tries not to peek over Brooke’s shoulder to see who she’s talking to. Brooke stretches out on her bed to look at her phone, and Vanessa does the same to play around on hers.

“Oh, it’s our turn for dinner.” A reminder notification at the top of Vanessa’s screen alerts her to the time, and she shuffles up to slide on shoes and get going, only remembering what she’s wearing at the last minute.

“Gimme a second, we can go out like that together.” Brooke grins, swiping yet another strand of hair behind her ear as she drops her sweatpants and swaps them for a pair of pajama pants.

“Are you sure?” Vanessa frowns, but Brooke just shrugs, a wry smile spreading on her face.

“I’ve seen yours, now you get to see mine.”

Day 4

They do morning stretches together the next day, and Vanessa has to admit that lust gets pushed aside by jealousy the minute they slide into the splits. Vanessa can do them, even if she hates them–it’s not that she can’t. It’s not even that she’s inflexible, she wouldn’t have survived in dance up until now if she were. But Brooke? That girl is on a whole other level. She slides into the splits with no effort at all, falling into position almost instantly and yet extremely gracefully, then does the one thing Vanessa hates, because it’s the one stretch she can’t do. She grabs a high foam block and puts it under her front foot. And then, just when Vanessa thinks she can’t get shown up even worse, Brooke grabs a second block and slides that under, too.

God, Vanessa wishes she could hate Brooke. But Brooke is too sweet, too kind, and too encouraging to even hold her pretzel-like tendencies against her, especially when she turns to Vanessa and taps her foot, offers her tips on how to get herself to that level of flexibility.

Vanessa tries to tell herself that the way Brooke’s eyes seem to linger on her every few minutes is just that generosity, a teacher monitoring her pupil. But even after Brooke helps Vanessa slide a small book under her foot, elevating her leg just enough, the lingering continues, and it’s hard not to let wishful thinking–at least, she thinks that’s what it is–take over. And that feeling only gets stronger as they move to their next stretch, one where they’re toe to toe with their legs spread wide and Brooke is grabbing Vanessa’s hands to pull her hardly an inch away from her chest.

Is it just Vanessa, or is Brooke blushing? And is it just Vanessa, or are Brooke’s hands just a little sweaty under their softness, warm and gentle as if they’re trying to hold Vanessa with as much tenderness as they can? And is it just Vanessa, or has Brooke’s chest gone still, her breathing stopped until Vanessa straightens out again?

“Your turn.” Vanessa offers, pulling Brooke into the position she’d just been in, and from the way Brooke comes to a harsh, sudden, stiff stop, but her muscles don’t shake and her breathing doesn’t change, Vanessa can tell she’s holding back. Almost as if she doesn’t want to get too close.

Vanessa’s imagining it. She has to be imagining it. There’s no other explanation, not a heterosexual one, and Brooke is…

Come to think of it, Vanessa doesn’t know for sure. But she can’t ask, not now; it would be too strange. So instead, she pulls Brooke forward sharply, resisting the urge to giggle when the blonde grunts in surprise at her strength.

“No holding back.” Vanessa shakes her head, smiling far too warmly for Brooke not to know what this is really about. “You can trust me, okay?”

“Okay.” Brooke smiles up at her, and then her muscles relax, and everything feels back to normal.

Day 5

“Truth or dare?”

Brooke turns to look at Vanessa, shifting to sit up as she smiles dubiously. They’re lying on Brooke’s bed together, pressed up against each other in an attempt to both fit in the small space of the double underneath the fuzzy, tickly cushion of Brooke’s top blanket. Vanessa rolls her eyes at Brooke’s skepticism, rolling onto her back to look up at her, grin wide on her face.

“C’mon, you know you want to. We can scroll Reddit later. Truth or dare?”

“Um…” Brooke crinkles her nose as she thinks, and Vanessa has to swallow the thought of how cute the blonde looks like that.

Although admittedly, the fact that she’s starting to hope Brooke keeps thinking isn’t just so she can watch the way Brooke’s brow furrows and muse quietly to herself about how seriously Brooke is taking this choice. Rather, it’s because she knows what she wants Brooke to pick, and the longer Brooke thinks, the more opportunity there is for Vanessa to hope she’ll pick up on the psychic signals she’s trying to send her.

Pick truth, pick truth, pick truth…

“Dare. But I’m not licking anything and I’m not going anywhere naked.”

Damnit.

Vanessa frowns, chewing on her lip as she tries frantically to think of a dare she can ask Brooke to do. It has to be appropriate, obviously, nothing too crazy like she might ask of Silky or her other, closer friends. But it can’t be boring, either—-if there’s one thing Vanessa doesn’t want to be in Brooke’s eyes, it’s boring.

Then, she thinks of the perfect thing. Something that might get at her truth question, that isn’t too high-stakes but definitely still has a bit of an ‘oh shit’ factor—exactly what you want from a dare.

“Dare you to prank call your last ex. On speaker. ” Vanessa smiles triumphantly, sticking out her tongue to tease her roommate. It’s foolproof—depending on the voice, Vanessa will know who Brooke has dated. And if she’s dating someone already, then surely she’ll say that, since admitting it is no problem.

Only, from Brooke’s face, there’s definitely a problem.

“I don’t want to play anymore.” Brooke heaves herself up off the bed, face becoming stony and cold as her eyes cloud over with something that Vanessa can’t quite decipher. Something mixed with anger, sure, but also something…

Crap. Crap, crap, crap. The magnitude of what Vanessa’s just asked of her new friend hits her like a train, and she feels like both the dumbest and worst person in the world at once. She called Brooke out, put her on the spot, and if she is queer? Pretty much just asked her to out herself. Which, unlike someone like Vanessa, who has a pan flag on her desk, not everyone is willing to do.

Brooke isn’t just feeling cornered, she’s feeling afraid.

“Aw, c’mon Brooke, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want—“

“I said I don’t want to play!” Brooke snaps.

There’s a beat, Vanessa’s own heartbeat the only thing she can hear amidst the crushing silence.

“Brooke—“ Vanessa tries again after a moment, her throat going dry as she tries to cut through the sudden tension, but Brooke just turns to her desk, scoops up her things and storms towards the door.

“I’m going for a walk. See you at dinner.”

She slams the door on her way out, and suddenly, getting an answer to Vanessa’s question doesn’t really matter anymore, because there’s no satisfaction in what a reaction that strong might mean. She drops her head in her hands, staying there for a moment before punching the mattress underneath her, rocketing up and grabbing her phone.

“Silk? Yeah, I’m okay, don’t worry, I just… I fucked up.”

Day 6

They don’t talk about it at dinner, nor afterwards. They don’t talk about it the next morning, not during their morning stretches or at breakfast, either. It’s not that they don’t talk; they say good morning, ask each other questions about what time breakfast is, what time Brooke is going to be on a call with her parents. But that’s about as far as it goes; Brooke sticks to business, asking and answering questions in as few words as possible and avoiding Vanessa’s gaze at all costs. It’s torture, the tension eating away at Vanessa’s mind and stinging in her chest. She fucked up, and she fucked up bad , and despite Silky’s advice, she’s not so sure she can fix this.

Still, she supposes it won’t hurt to try.

Brooke is in the shower when Vanessa decides to sneak out, purse over her shoulder and mind ready for a mission. There’s a supermarket open within walking distance of the uni right now, and technically, she’s not supposed to leave campus at all except for emergencies. Which this is, so it should be okay, right? At least, that’s what she’ll say if she gets caught. She’ll have to be fast, and sneaky, and careful not to run into anyone who might ask where she’s going. Come to think of it, she hasn’t been for a walk on the grounds yet, not since arriving–how will it work? Will she have to plan a route? Give it to the front desk? Get a pass or something, to make sure she comes back within the allotted time? This could be dangerous, very dangerous…

“If you’re gonna go to the shop, can you get me a pack of cigs?” The stoner at the front desk doesn’t even bother looking up from whatever he’s doing on the computer as she tries to sneak by, stopping in her tracks at his voice.

Christ, really?

“Sure, whatever.” Vanessa rolls her eyes, a little irritated at how easy this actually is. So much for danger and adventure.

She comes back about an hour later, throws the guy his pack and launches that he owes her eleven over her shoulder, and skips back into her room with a jumbo bag of ketchup Lays in her knapsack.

“Peace offering?” Vanessa grins down at Brooke as the blonde’s mouth drops open first in surprise, then delight as she snatches the snack from Vanessa’s hands.

“Where did you find these?” Brooke squeals with delight as she tears the bag open, breathing in the sharp, slightly-sour smell that makes Vanessa’s nose wrinkle. Still, seeing the look of utter joy on Brooke’s face makes Vanessa so happy that she can’t help but smile, too.

“International aisle.” Vanessa sits on the edge of her bed proudly. “Figured you might like them, seeing as you always say you’re craving them.” She winks, and Brooke rolls her eyes, but giggles despite herself. But the moment passes as soon as it had come, and then they settle into silence again.

Come on, Vanessa. Just face the music. Apologize. She deserves that from you. Vanessa bites her lip, her hands curling into fists as she tries to force her heartbeat even again, because the longer the silence goes on, the more awkward it gets, the more she realizes that it’s now or never for her to make things right.

“Brooke–”

“We don’t have to talk about it.” Brooke says quietly, her voice flat and lifeless and… scared, almost. Vanessa sucks in a breath, her chest sinking as she realizes what’s going on.

“Well… Do you want to?” Vanessa prods, but Brooke doesn’t even look up from the bag of crisps, which suddenly seem to be the most interesting thing in the world despite the dullness in the blonde’s eyes.

“Honestly, I’d rather we didn’t.” When she finally speaks up, her voice is barely above a whisper, and it’s enough to make Vanessa’s heart break.

Not just because she’s lost her chance to apologize–because she knows that tone, knows that look. Knows the hesitancy and caution behind it, the anxiety and the feeling of being trapped and overwhelmed. Knows what kind of revelation that voice and that look are hiding, and how the information Brooke is trying to avoid isn’t actually set in stone yet.

Jesus, she’s fucked up way more than she thought she had.

“Okay.” Vanessa finally nods, sighing deeply. “But if you do… I’m here, okay?”

Brooke hesitates for a moment, but when she does look up, her eyes are full of a gratefulness that’s surprisingly warm. “Okay.”

This time, when silence falls, it’s not awkward, but full of resolution.

“So…” Brooke finally breaks it this time, a slow smile spreading on her face, “They just put up the newest season of The Bachelor online, wanna watch it? We got snacks, after all.” Brooke waves her bag in the air, and Vanessa smiles.

“Shove over, mate. I wanna see what kinda mess the girls are this year.”

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #college au #lesbian au #when we went from friends to this #writworm42

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bananapajama87 · 4 years ago

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Bend-The-Knee or be Broken

@aphrarepairweek2020 Day 2: Thunderstrom prompt! Super late, but having fun anyway! A friend/crush fic for RusEng! I just love to think about the mechanics of Nations’ free will and I think (other than Germany) Russia is one of the best subjects for a study on it. I hope my ideas came through clearly :) Ivan Braginsky had a well-known and violently documented dislike for “friendly political visits” but the guest room in England’s lavish country estate had always been one of his least favourite personal hells.

He paced slowly around his confines, inspecting the impersonal velvety decor that he had begrudgingly become familiar with over the centuries. Its careful design was facetiously inviting and desperate to be impressive. ‘Please, make yourself at home!’ the glowing fireplace seemed to say, echoed mockingly by the diamond chandelier who added ‘because I bet you don’t have things nearly so nice back at yours!’ Every country did this of course, but England always managed to be so wonderfully condescending.Ivan bristled. He never slept well in other Nation’s homes, but something in the night air was making him particularly restless. He hadn’t found the peace of mind to even sit down since he had arrived, despite his duties early the next day. Showpony duties, he thought, The dusty to be an amusing little beast, well-trained and pampered to show off how well his masters are doing. He gripped at the hem of the silky pyjamas he had been issued for trips like these. They were so unlike the cotton tank top and shorts that he wore at home. Ivan glanced around the room again and as usual, his eyes were tugged toward the monstrously large landscape painting looming above the mantle. It was a mirror image of the view outside the room's large window. Temperate, emerald moors bordered darkly by mysterious, hungry woods. He ran an ungloved hand over his scarred throat and thought about his own rugged taigas and unforgiving tundras. He shook his head. It was tacky of England to have a painting of himself in the guest bedroom, even if it wasn’t a portrait. He stalked out the door to see if he could find somewhere less here to be.

Ivan drifted through the hallways, careful not to step on any creaky floorboards. He was making a circuitous path toward the first-floor sitting room. If he remembered correctly, that fireplace was always burning and had comfortable chairs. It was disquieting to think about how intimately familiar Ivan was with England’s home although they had never really been on first name (or even last name) terms with each other. Not that he was with anyone else either… Maybe he could tire himself out reading old newspapers.

The heavy oak door didn’t creak when Ivan pushed it open. The dying glow of the fire was filling the room with the heavy smell of a quiet night and casting long shadows on the opposite wall. They wavered gently, distorting the shapes of things and making Ivan unsure of where the floor ended and the dark began. Running his hands lightly across the furniture for guidance, he crossed the room silently, coming to a stop in front of the picture window that looked out onto the veranda, and beyond that, those green hills now inky black silhouettes. The moonlight fought valiantly to shine through the thick clouds but was diffused into a mere suggestion of itself. He could smell the humid scent of an oncoming thunderstorm brewing on the other side of the glass.

“Good evening, Russia. Is there something I can do for you?” England’s voice was soft and scratchy with fatigue, and though Ivan would not allow himself to show his surprise outwardly, he felt his heart pick up speed as he turned to look. England was standing in the doorway, hair more dishevelled than usual and an untied housecoat draped over his pyjamas. He was carrying a mug in his hand that seemed to be empty.“No not at all, England. Just trying to admire the stars, but as you can see, it is not my lucky night.” Russia smiled his diplomatic smile and put a gentle pep in his voice that he used for others. He was naturally soft-spoken but he seemed suddenly too loud for the room. England crossed the room deftly, and joined Russia at the window, not needing to try to avoid the furniture in his own house. The top of his head only came up to Russia’s shoulders. “Quite unlucky indeed. A storm’s coming. A big one if I’m not mistaken.” England said, and Ivan knew he was right. His skin had begun tingling with static electricity. They stood in silence, England sipping at the empty mug every so often. Russia sensed that he didn’t know what to do with his hands (or make a graceful exit from the situation now that he had engaged with Ivan). That man had never been able to stop himself from standing on ceremony even if it made him squirm with discomfort as it did now. Ivan chuckled.“What are you giggling about?” England asked, frowning up at Ivan. Ivan looked down at him, his emerald green eyes were glowing with irritation.“Your mug is empty.” Ivan pointed into the empty cup. England’s face went red and he set the mug down quickly on a coffee table and he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

They were quiet for a while and watched the clouds gather.“Why are you awake, England? Surely you weren’t hoping to stargaze too?” Ivan asked, enjoying keeping England trapped here with him. He wouldn’t be only one miserably tired in the morning.

“Oh, you know. Insomnia. You being here and all, I have a lot on my mind. Lots of things being prepared for your stay and all that,” he said airily, gesturing vaguely with his hands. Ivan noticed the deep circles under England’s eyes and wondered how often he was struck with insomnia. He looked much more human now than Ivan had ever seen him in an official capacity. Stubbly, slouching, and underdressed. Somehow, he felt the need to reassure him.

“No need to go to all the trouble. If I am honest, which I seldom am, I hate the pomp. It is… insincere,” Ivan said, making sure to look away from England’s face before his subject could notice his staring. England ran his hands down his face in exasperation and groaned.

“Don’t I know it. It’s tax money and organization and time being put into a show for the measly audience of one,” suddenly England realized what he had said and quickly added: “no offence, Russia.” Ivan couldn’t help but laugh again. England seemed to take that as acceptance and continued. “I don’t know of anyone who really likes that pampering. Except maybe Francis. And Alfred. Those two are a pair of egotistical layabouts if I ever saw some.” Ivan nodded, the first names not lost on him. He was reminded that despite England’s prickly disposition, he was in very good standing with the other Nations. Friends, even. “I mean, I don’t even want them in my bloody house but, you know how it is, the boss says you’re a bed and breakfast, you’re a bed and breakfast.” Arthur was leaning his shoulder on the wall now, looking more casual that Ivan had ever seen him. There was an impish smile on his lips, complaining about bosses and other Nations was clearly a favourite pastime.

“Yes,” Ivan offered, “America has proven many times over the years to be a terrible houseguest, yet he is one of my most constant companions.” Ivan tried to match Arthur’s relaxed posture.

“Right? The boy carves his name into anything and everything he can lay his hands on, and thinks I won’t notice! Three hundred years I’ve had this little estate and he vandalizes the wall panelling! I don’t know how I could have raised him so poorly.” Arthur mimed strangling someone furiously and Ivan smiled.

“Is that what it says on the back wall of the closet in the guest room? I had always wondered. Terrible penmanship.” Arthur went a little red in the ears

“Alfred,” he growled bitterly. This time, when Ivan laughed, Arthur joined in. “Well, I guess, on the whole, being social isn't the worst thing our bosses have made us do, eh?” Arthur poked Ivan in the ribs with his elbow and winked. Ivan forced himself to keep smiling as his stomach dropped to the floor, he did not want to ruin the atmosphere.

“No, I suppose not,” he said, trying to approximate pleasantness in his voice. Arthur was not fooled.“Oh, sorry. The past is a better subject for a younger crowd.” He had his hands back in his pockets and pushed himself up off the wall. His eyes seemed to be trying very hard not to direct themselves towards Ivan's neck. “I’ve been talking to Alfred too much.”

Silence.

The clouds finally broke and rain finally began to hit the window arrhythmically. For some reason, Ivan didn’t like seeing England feeling guilty on his behalf. Usually, it would be funny but tonight it was not. Unusual. He should say something.“Well,” Ivan tried to sound reassuring, “I suppose that even the past is preferable to America’s company.” Arthur let out a little puff of air that condensed on the cloudy window and smirked.

“You’re a mean son of a bitch, you know that?”

“Coming from you, England, that is high praise.” Arthur let out a barking laugh that made Ivan smile from ear to ear. His own shoulders shook with suppressed snickers. The room felt suddenly larger as if something oppressive had been banished by Arthur’s earnest smile.

“Call me Arthur, Ivan. We’ve known each other for centuries. It’s ridiculous to pretend like we’re not at least well acquainted.” Arthur looked up at Ivan as he said this, his eyes shining a little from laughter. They were the same colour as the hills outside. Ivan felt warmth in his face that he couldn’t diagnose.

“Oh, I thought… Well, we have not always been on the best terms, or speaking terms, I’ve been quite hostile to many of your allies, I-”

“Oh please,” Arthur interrupted, rolling his eyes, “that’s Russia. I’m asking Ivan to call me Arthur. Here,” Arthur stepped closer to Ivan and Ivan once again felt his heart hammering, “since I suppose I’m formally meeting Ivan Braginsky for the first time,” he held his hand out. “My name is Arthur Kirkland, hobbyist and amateur murder mystery author.” Ivan had no idea what to do, he felt nervous for the first time in a long time. Other Nations never tried to be familiar with him. Ivan stared at the hand, frozen until Arthur shook his proffered hand insistently.

“I-Ivan Braginsky. Um, personification and official national ambassador of Russia,” he said. Before Ivan could take Arthur’s hand, it was snatched away.

“Everybody knows that. Tell me something about Ivan!” Ivan was speechless. He hadn’t thought about himself much outside of that in a long time.

“Uh, brother and,” He felt like he was trying to guess a correct answer, “sunflower enthusiast?” Arthur seemed satisfied because he took Ivan’s hand and shook it firmly. And he smiled. Ivan smiled back.

The two men stood in comfortable silence for a few moments, watching the rain run little snail trails down the window through which the two men could see the strengthening moonlight.

“Do you really think that?” Ivan almost whispered. The crackling of the fireplace was setting the volume of the room.

“Think what?” Arthur looked over at him, equally quietly.

“Do you think we are... real?” Arthur blinked and furrowed his considerable brows. “I mean,” Ivan paused to search for the words, “When your boss tells you to do something, do you decide whether or not to comply or do you just,” Ivan mimed a little salute and clicked his heels, “even if you would rather die than carry out the order?” Arthur nodded understandingly, his face seeming concerned, but what he said sounded like something he had rehearsed to himself. Maybe late on nights like this, where everything seemed small.

“I have had to accept that I am not human and that here are some choices I don’t get to make. Not like the people I represent. I don’t get to say no, or yes for that matter, unless one of them leads me there. Boss says ‘the peasants are revolting’? I sharpen my axe. The people say ‘parliament rules’ and it’s the king’s head on the chopping block? I sharpen my axe. It’s that or I’m next.” Arthur shrugged. Ivan gulped. He remembered the weight of the gun in his hand and what it was like to point it at starving citizens one day and the royal family the next. “Obviously, we can’t die but, well, you remember what happened to Francis. During the revolution.” Ivan nodded. Everyone had heard about what happened to Francis. He’d pleaded with Robespierre to stop the violence in Paris and been guillotined by his own people. When he woke up, he was out in the countryside where he had first appeared centuries earlier, naked and revolutionary. “We don’t really ever get to choose. Most have decided it’s not worth the effort anymore. Not that I have to tell you that.” Ivan scowled.

“So… you are saying that it’s bend-the-knee or be broken? That is our freedom? What makes Arthur Kirkland and Ivan Braginsky is - is - obedience with the addition of indignance?” Ivan clenched and unclenched his fists. The first fork of lightning flashed through the sky, for an incalculable instant illuminating the room in a cold white light. The thunder that came after was felt rather than heard. Arthur sighed.

“It’s certainly not the most inspirational thought, but essentially, yes.” Ivan growled and his arm tensed, itching to hit something. To shatter something, anything. Just to make a difference to something of his own accord. But Arthur was looking at him with a pitying acceptance and understanding that Ivan knew could only ever come from another Nation. Ivan felt the fire inside him go out and he slumped against the window, the glass cooling against his forehead and his breath hot on the glass.

“Are you alright?” Arthur asked, leaning next to him on the window, his hand dangerously, tantalizingly close to Ivan’s. Ivan closed his eyes and suddenly felt how late it was. He couldn’t summon the energy to open them again.

“This is not a revelation to me. It is just... disheartening to hear it from someone else.” Arthur huffed in agreement.

“Don’t I know it.” They were silent again.

Rumbling from the outside rattled Ivan’s tired brain as he stood half asleep, just feeling the window on his skin and Arthur’s presence. That is until Arthur once again pushed away from the wall and Ivan felt the loss. He looked up to see the other man walking determinedly to the other end of the window. “You know what?” Arthur wasn’t whispering anymore.

“Arthur?”

“I may not get much to myself in this world, but I do get this. I get to be Arthur Kirkland, a stuffy, grumpy, brother, soldier, knitter, terrible cook, and,” He looked back at Ivan and nodded as he pulled a set of keys out of his housecoat pocket, “friend.” he jammed one of the keys in the lock of the veranda door and began to jostle it violently.

“Arthur?”

“And I don’t know about you, but I don’t have to be England until tomorrow morning, so tonight,” he threw open the door and was immediately battered by the violent wind and rain. The sound of the door slamming against the wall was camouflaged by another clap of thunder. “I’m gonna do whatever the hell I want.”

“What are you doing? It’s pouring out there!” Ivan shielded his face from the wind with his arm. Arthur looked back at him with a half-crazed smile Ivan had heard about. It was a famous harbinger of-

“Who says we’re too old for a little teenage rebellion?” He cackled, once again holding out his hand for Ivan to take, inviting him to spend the night doing absolutely nothing but pretending they were going to die someday.

Ivan didn’t hesitate, he took Arthur’s hand in his own, pulled him close by the waist as if ready to lead him in a waltz and sent them both careening out the door and into the storm, their laughter drowned out by the elements.

#RusEng #APH Russia #Aph England #aphrarepairweek2020 #Hetalia

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daddies-disappointment · 4 years ago

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Prompt List

I scrolled through the some prompt lists and found some I liked. Send in a character or pairing from THIS post and up to 4 prompts. Give me up to 3-4 days because I tend to work on multiple requests at once!

Angst

“Just tell me their name and I’ll make this all better.”

“wHY DO YOU KEEP LYING TO ME ?”

“She was crying because of you!”

“I know for a fact that you’re not “fine”.”

“Nothing has changed!” “Yes it has, and you know it."

“Why’re you crying?"

"Are you happy with me?”

“Do you think I like hurting you?!”

"Don’t act so ungrateful.”

“Is it so hard to love me?”

“You know you’re mine, don’t you?”

“Could you at least pretend to love me.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you, baby.”

“Who do I need to be?! Just fucking tell me already!“

"I don’t care what happens as long as we’re together”

“Why won’t you talk to me?”

“No one else makes me feel this way! I can’t lose that!”

“Why do you let others treat at you like that?"

“Don’t lie to me! I know where you really were.”

“I love you, can’t you see that?”

"The doctor called while you were out, why didn't you tell me you went to the hospital?"

"I can't do this anymore."

"Promise me that if I don't make it back that you'll watch out for them."

"Do me a favor, tell them I love them."

"You can take me instead, just please don't hurt them."

"If we die just know I love you."

"I don't want to go, please don't make me go."

"Stay awake, okay, we're going to get out of here. Just stay awake for me."

"You can't protect me forever!"

"You lost them? How do you lose a person!"

"I don't ever want to see you again!"

"I can't believe I trusted you!"

"You know what? No. I don't care anymore. Get out."

“Now that it’s over. . . I don’t really know what to do.”

“Stop apologizing for other people! You’re not the shitty one.”

“I don’t think you’re annoying. I know...I don’t...I really like listening to and hearing what you have to say even if its a lot sometimes..”

“You don’t get too say anything to me!”

“Move out of my way before I make you.”

“Don’t leave me!”

“You said you needed space. I’m starting to think that an entire universe apart wouldn’t be enough space for you.”

“I’m sorry I’m not what you signed up for.”

“This will be the last time you lie to me.”

“It was easier to believe that you were dead.”

“What you’re doing is going to kill you one day.”

“My friends get so annoyed by how much I talk about how sometimes.”

“How DARE I?! What about you?”

“I told everyone that I didn’t want to talk but I’m actually dying for attention.”

“You weren’t there for me when I needed you the most.”

“I was there for you when no one else was!”

“Is there any part of you, deep down, that might love me back?”

“What would you do if I didn’t come back?”

“Do you know what it’s like?”

“Hasn’t this addiction done enough damage already?”

“Is that what you think of me?”

“If I told you I hate you, what would you do?”

“When did you stop loving me?”

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough?”

“Which part of me wasn’t enough?”

“Is this how you thought your life would be?”

“How could you do this?”

“Are you leaving?”

“How could you?!"

"I don't deserve this!"

"Out! Get fucking out!"

"Did you ever stop to think that I have feelings too?!

"Stop yelling at me, please..!"

“You weren’t there...why weren’t you there?”

“I needed you! I needed you!”

“Do you even know what love feels like?”

“Sometimes I wonder if you even like me...it sure feels like you hate me sometimes.”

“How do I make you love me again?"

"I cannot believe you!"

Fluff

“I remember practicing how to ask you out in the mirror..”

“I’ll kiss away the pain, doll.”

“You’ll be safe as long as you stay with me.”

“You’re safe here, I got you.”

"Aw, you’re blushing.”

“I don’t want to forget this moment.”

“Are you really flirting with me right now?”

“You have something in your hair, umm… Do you want me to get it out?

“No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”

“No, mom, don’t tell him/her I said that about him/her!”

“You’re so warm”

“Let me see that pretty smile.”

"Will you be my Valentine?"

"Why do you have to be so gosh darn cute???"

"A kiss will satisfy me."

“Red is the perfect colour on your skin.”

“darling, you’re so perfect.”

“I’m madly in love with you.”

“You’re all I ever think about.”

“I love you, and I’ll do anything to prove it.”

“You’re hair is really soft after you wash it.”

"I’m just braiding your hair.”

“Would it be all right if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.”

“You’re comfy.”

“You are very endearing when you are half-asleep.”

“I think I love you.”

“Your bed head is really cute.”

“I’d do anything for you, whether or not you ask me to.”

"Hey! I may be a dumbass but I'm your dumbass!"

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

"Oh my god, it's just what I wanted!"

"Oh my god is that a dog?! Did you get us a dog???!!"

“You’re so needy. I love it!”

“Kiss me again.”

“Look at you... Goodness, you’re so cute.”

“You are being extra sweet today. What do you want?”

“I’m really happy that you’re here with me.”

“I want you to be proud of yourself."

“I want to feel like this forever.”

“You give me a reason to be better, to do better.”

“I turned out liking you a lot more that I originally planned.”

“I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.”

Comfort

“If you want to leave, we can.”

“Your comfort and happiness is more important to me than some stupid dinner.”

“Would it help if I stayed with you?”

“Wait, don’t pull away… Not yet.”

“It’s okay, I know you’re just not used to being cared for so much.”

“You’re not hurting me, you’re not heavy. I’ve got you, love.”

"you can talk to me about anything"

"I'll stay with you as long as you need me to"

"you don't have to go through this alone"

"I'm always here if you need anything"

"do you want to talk about it or would you like a distraction?"

“It’s okay, just go to sleep baby.”

Injuries/Insults

“Do that again and you’ll regret it.”

“Do I make myself clear?”

“Control your anger or you’ll have me to worry about.”

“What did you just say to me?”

“Hand me the gun and I’ll kill him myself.”

"I'd rather rot in hell than spend another minute in the same room as you!"

"God I can't fucking stand you."

"I would rather eat glass for the rest of my life than eat

whatever this is."

"Oh my god, your bleeding!"

"Christ! What happened to your eye?"

“I’ll carve out your tongue.”

“I swear, if anyone lays a hand on you, I’ll cut their arm off.”

“Well would you look at that. She/they can listen.”

“I’ll slit your fucking throat.”

“I could fucking kill you right now, you know that?”

“You’re lucky I’m so nice. Anyone else would’ve done something horrible, by now.”

“You’re the only person I’d make an exception for. Count yourself lucky.”

“Remind me to kill you. Please.”

“I think you’re weird.” “I think you’re boring.”

“Don’t look in her eyes, she might steal your soul.”

“She’s hot, but she’s evil.”

“So stick that in your juice box and suck it.”

“My middle finger salutes you.”

“Idiots. I’m surrounded by idiots.”

Other

“I Didn’t take you for the settling down type.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that!”

“Don’t pretend like you’re not happy to see me like this.”

“Your mind must be a horrible place.”

“There’s something I have to tell you…”

“Don’t you get it? It’s because I love you!”

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want, got it?”

“I shouldn’t have to repeat myself.”

“Wait, he/she has a girlfriend/boyfriend ?"

”If you wanna know, then ask.”

“And just WHERE do you think you’re putting your hands?”

“Duck, you idiot!”

“Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?”

“Don’t look for any redeeming qualities. I don’t have any.”

"Somebody’s cranky.” “Somebody needs to shut up.”

“Oh darling. Go buy a brain.”

“I heard that!” “You were supposed to!”

“I need therapy after this.”

“Do I regret it? Yes. Would I do it again? Probably.”

“Obviously you have mistaken me for somebody who gives a shit.”

“You make no sense to me.” “Welcome to my life.”

"Why do you smell like a dumpster, and if you say you were dumpster diving I swear to god."

"I won't do anything illegal. I promise."

“So...do you want your underwear back?”

“Please stop rolling your shirt sleeves up, it’s terribly distracting”

“Could you come get me?”

“I thought you said no more dangerous stunts?”

“Where’s your adventurous spirit?!”

“Never take life seriously. No one ever comes out alive anyway.”

#prompt list #tua #umbrella academy x reader

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join-the-joywrite · 4 years ago

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Hamish & Vera soulmate au headcannons

Lil headcannons for a colours soulmate au in which the S1 finale wasn't the first time Hamish had been hit in the face with the powder. Because why not? This version of the colours is the one where you can only see varying shades of the colour of your soulmate's eyes. Because why not?

Largely inspired from some of the vibes I gave myself in the telepathic au so here goes nothin (mild angst, I think) it's gonna be a long one 0.0

To give a time frame, Hamish has been a Knight for six years. Cassie's been dead for three years (I personally like the idea that Cassie died one year into Hamish being a Knight, but for the purposes of this au, we're gonna go with her dying in Hamish's third year as a Knight.)

It's late as shit and it's raining and Hamish is trying to get under cover because A) he just happened to choose today to wear a suede jacket and B) Tundra really doesn't appreciate the rain for some reason. [Now that I think of it, has it ever rained on the show??? Am I just forgetful or does Belgrave not see rain, like, ever?]

He spies an open door and rushes in side, dropping his bag and pulling the jacket off to shake the water away. Maybe he can salvage it. Or maybe, Tundra suggests, they can just rip it apart. For fun, obviously.

In the dark and with the loud pattering of the rain, the newcomer doesn't see Hamish and collides with him.

"Fucking shit weather," Vera complains to herself as she regains her balance.

"Chancellor Stone," Hamish recognises her in the very dim light of the building. The jacket might be ruined but it still has some weight and she's shivering in her pretty silk shirts.

Vera accepts the jacket and leans over to wring her hair out.

"Did you know that you're wearing three different shades of green?" "Your soulmate's eyes are probably green." "They are. But you are wearing three different shades of-- oh, four if you count your shoes."

Vera lifts her head to throw Hamish an annoyed look, as if he's being incredibly stupid, and notices everything isn't blue any longer. She's seeing colours she doesn't know the name for any longer. For the first time, she can see the colour of her own skin and she. Is. Entranced.

The nail polish bottle had said red and someone who'd already met their soulmate had once told her red nails make a person look powerful. But for the first time, Vera can see what red looks like.

She glances at a noticeboard beside her and runs her hand over a poster for some musical auditions. "I don't know what colour this is anymore," she whispers to herself.

"Pink," Hamish supplies, captured with the way Vera is seeing the world through new eyes. He guides her hand to a different poster. "Yellow." And a different one. "Lilac." And yet another. "Mint." And another. "Brown."

And then the novelty fades. "How do you know all of them?"

Vera hadn't been seeing colours before she the rain had come down on her and Hamish was the first person she'd met since she left her office. But if this was the first time she was seeing all the colours, shouldn't it be the first time Hamish was seeing them too?

"Ah. You . . . you're not my first."

"I see." The novelty has completely worn off and any excitement Vera had previously shown was deeply buried. "And where is this first?"

"Dead," Hamish admits bluntly.

"Oh! Oh . . . I'm sorry . . ." "Hamish." "What?" "My name. It's Hamish Duke."

"You should run before the rain starts coming down harder again." Vera looks out and notices that yes, the rain is slowing down. She moves to return the jacket. "No, keep it. It's ruined anyway, just toss it in the trash when you're in your house and warm."

"But you could use--" "I'll be fine, Chancellor."

Vera pauses, hand on the door. "Vera." "What?" "My first name is Vera."

Hamish stands in the middle of the building's foyer, hands in his pockets, and smiles. "Get home safe, Vera."

She does get home safe and she doesn't toss the jacket like he told her to. She fixes it up with some spell and keeps it in the back of her wardrobe.

For the next one and a half years, Vera is slowly getting more and more eaten up with the guilt that she's not telling Hamish about the Order. Little does she know, Hamish has several times thought about telling her about the Knights -- maybe even taking her down to the hide locker.

He does tell her about Cassie though. Explaining how he could identify all the colours because he'd seen them before. Vera asked what happened after Cassie died. "The world goes back to black and white, so I've heard." "But yours didn't." "Because of you." "Cheesy bastard." And then they're laughing again.

It's raining again. Vera can hear the rain drumming against the windows of Hamish's apartment windows.

"I need to talk to you." There is a pause where they both wait for the other to speak. Then Hamish gestures for Vera to speak when he notices her tightly clenched fist and the strange look in her eyes.

"I want to start of with I'm sorry. No let me finish." And in a single breath, Vera gets it all out. "I'm part of a secret society of magic practitioners called the Hermetic Order of the Blue Rose and is dedicated to preserving and passing on the art of magic but every breath you take in the Order could be your last because it is so fucking dangerous to be one of the disciples and I've never told you about it because I don't want you dragged into that world."

"Vera--" and then he's passed out on the couch they were sitting on.

Vera takes a few seconds to decide whether or not she's making a mistake before deciding that neither option seemed to be a very good one.

"Your name is Hamish Duke. You have never heard of the Hermetic Order of the Blue Rose. You have never personally met Vera Stone and you have no idea who your soulmate is."

By the time Hamish wakes, Vera has vanished. He feels fine, as if he'd just fallen asleep to the sound of the rain, something feels wrong about the apartment. Like it's missing something, like something crucial to making it a home had been ripped away.

Hamish starts staying at the den and his apartment sits and collects dust.

"Son of a bitch!" Vera cries when she figures out Jack Morton is a werewolf. She thinks she can't be further surprised ever. She'd bet Jack 20 dollars nothing could surprise her again.

Son of a bitch! She thinks as soon as she walks into the den. Part of her is glad she never vocalised that bet. The other part of her kinda wishes Alyssa had killed her like Coventry asked.

"I need a drink." Hamish is utterly appalled to see a stranger, let alone, the Temple Magus of the Order, his enemy, standing at his bar counter. But then he notices that she actually made a pretty decent drink for herself there.

"No killing." "No promises." Ah, just like old times -- except now with the looming threat of death hanging over their heads. Such fun.

At this point, you may put on Kathleen Edwards' cover of It Must Have Been Love -- and cry with me.

Vera would have assigned a disciple to Hamish, but she knee there was no way she would be able to go down into the den and watch the disciples clear it out without breaking and calling off the entire thing. It's not as if her task now is any better, but Hamish is a sight for sore eyes and she tells herself that if their roles were swapped, she would want him to come to her.

"Magus," he says when she approaches him somewhere near the temple. He notices she's wearing a suede jacket that surely can't be her own. He doesn't comment on it. "What can I do for you?"

"Part of me wishes it hadn't come to this." "Come to what? Coventry is gone, the book is gone, Jack's alive . . . most of the Order is fine. I'd say we're at a pretty good spot."

"You know, Hamish, there's a lot that I want to say to you but not enough words."

Hamish was pretty sure Vera Stone never called anyone by their first names -- at least, that's what he knows from Jack and Lilith. So what made him so special? "Like what?"

"I'm sorry."

"For?"

"Secrets," Vera says, turning away. "Secrets are terrible things. They ruin the best of things and can break down nearly everything."

"What sort of secrets?" Hamish stares at the back of Vera's head as she watches the students walk by in the distance.

Vera's hand shakes as she covers her mouth to keep her breath from shaking too. What's the point in hiding? He won't remember. "I love you."

Hamish gives a nervous laugh. She's not mentally afflicted ...... is she?

"I love you and I'm sorry." "You keep saying you're sorry, Magus, and--" "Please. My name is Vera."

Hamish is, at this point, fully confused. Did Vera perhaps smoke something? He goes up to her to ask her if she's okay. Her shoulder shakes under his hand.

"Vera--"

Vera drops to her knees with Hamish, stopping his head from touching the ground. And for a second, she allows a tear or two to fall. This makes twice.

"Your name is Hamish Duke. You're a TA at Belgrave. You've never heard of the Hermetic Order of the Blue Rose. You've never heard of thr Knights of St Christopher." Her whispering voice breaks and shudders. "Your soulmate's name was Cassie. She died in a car crash five years ago. You're dating Selena Durov." She pauses for a second, hesitating to say the words. "You've never personally met Vera Stone."

She stands up and waits for herself to calm herself before gently shaking his shoulders and pulling him up.

"Chancellor, wha--" "You passed out as I was walking by. Are you okay?" "Yeah, just . . . I don't know." "Well . . . um . . ."

"It was nice meeting you, Chancellor Stone." "Likewise."

And then she leaves because if she stands there any longer, she's going to break. Hamish calls for her as she's leaving. She pretends she can't hear him. Hamish picks up the necklace glinting in the sunlight. It's a simple and single letter H hanging from a chain. Perhaps it belonged to Cassie and he kept it in her memory? Must've been a nasty fall if his own memories are so foggy.

Vera watches from behind a concealment spell as Selena finally finds Hamish. He hurriedly throws the chain over his own neck and offers Selena his arm. He glances back once to see Vera walking away.

Part two

I had to break it up I'm taking a cry break

See the other soulmate aus I've done

#hamish x vera #hamish duke #vera stone #vermish #the order #the hermetic order of the blue rose #the knights of st christopher #the knights of the blue rose #soulmate au #soulmate #please just give me the soulmate au i want #netflix #mara-writes

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imaginejamesandsirius · 5 years ago

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James having hanahaki disease and people thinking it's because of lily while it's of course sirius? Angst with a happy ending, please and thank you!! You're the best!

James had exactly zero intention of ever telling anyone. Unfortunately, that wasn't a very realistic goal, and he should've realised that Sirius was going to find out before anyone else. Of everyone he didn't want to know, Sirius was at the top of the list.

Listen, if James wanted for Sirius to know that he was hopelessly in love with him, he would've told him himself. When he coughed up the first rose petal, he'd looked at it and sighed. He knew that Hanahaki wasn't just about being in love with someone that didn't love you back, it was about being in love with someone that didn't love you back and never would or could. Your heart felt like it was dying, and your lungs decided to make that a real possibility. Hanahaki was terminal unless you managed to fall out of love, or the object of your affection managed to fall in love with you before you ran out of time. Naturally, both of those options were rare, so James wasn't going to hold his breath. Also because holding his breath was difficult now, but that was hardly the point. Also also, there were some people who thought that there was a less severe strain of Hanahaki, and if you could be cured, that's what the version you had. It didn't really matter because no one had been able to prove that theory true.

James was busy puking rose petalled bullshit into the toilet, and Sirius came in. There wasn't a way of covering, and besides, his ability to lie to Sirius wasn't the greatest.

Sirius knelt on the stone next to him and rubbed his back until it passed. "Have you told her?" he asked, passing James a summoned glass of water.

"Told who?" It couldn't be Mum, because Sirius would've said 'your parents' and not just Mum; he was awfully fond of Dad, it's not as if he would leave him out.

"Lily," Sirius said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Why the bloody hell would I tell Lily?"

Sirius sighed. Like he thought that James was being ridiculous. Like he thought James was being obtuse on purpose. "I know that she's been pretty resistant to your- ahem- methods of wooing her, but maybe if you ask her on a date like a sodding normal person, she'll say yes." He didn't much sound like he believed it, but James appreciated the misguided attempt all the same.

"Yeah no, I'm not doing that."

"Oh come on, what's the worst that could happen? She tells you no? That doesn't put you in a worse spot than before. Just think about it, yeah Prongs? I kinda like you when you're breathing fine, I don't want to have to get used to a new version of you."

"Bugger off."

"Aw, you know I'm taking the piss," Sirius said, ruffling James's hair. "You couldn't get rid of me if you tried." He pressed a kiss on top of James's head, probably trying to be obnoxious and failing miserably.

"Yeah," James muttered, leaning against him. "Thank Merlin, right?"

So obviously Sirius didn't tell anyone, but James wasn't subtle, and he liked complaining about too-red flowers more than he cared about keeping his mouth shut. Which meant that James was complaining to Sirius about how he didn't even like roses, and couldn't they be carnations or something? At least then, he could wash them off and make a bouquet or summat. Naturally, people overheard him one of the times that he was saying that, and the news spread from one person to another until all of Hogwarts knew.

"I can't believe you didn't tell us!" Peter said, looking betrayed. "We're your best mates, and we had to hear about it from Benjy!"

"How is Benjy? I haven't seen him since he got out of the Hospital Wing," James said.

"That is so not the point, you arse." A beat. "He's fine, lots of colour in his cheeks when he'd telling us all the gossip we missed out on."

Remus glanced at James up from where he'd been concentrated drawing a crow. "You alright?"

James shrugged. "I've had better days."

Remus nodded, then went back to his drawing.

"You are no help at all," Peter said, glaring at him.

"Mmhmm."

"My point is, you should've told someone."

"Sirius knew."

"Padfoot knows everything about you, he doesn't count."

"I resent that, Wormtail," Sirius said, throwing his bag down and taking a seat on the armchair with James. There wasn't really room for two people on it, so he was mostly sitting on James's lap. "I might know everything about James, but that doesn't mean I don't count as him telling someone. He told me, I am a separate person, therefore, he told someone. Why do you care so much anyways?"

"Because if he'd told us-- all of us-- we would've been able to help him plan how to ask out Lily in a way she might say yes to! Now that everyone knows, she'll only say yes because she feels guilty, and that's not going to help him any."

"Do you realise that I can still hear you, Wormy?" James said. His voice was muffled because instead of resituating when Sirius sat down, he decided to stay where he was and just plant his face into Sirius's back. It smelled better this way.

"What, you're going to start caring when we talk about how hopeless your crush is? You're sick, but you're not dying. When you start dying from it, then I'll stop."

"Shouldn't you stop before he starts dying?" Sirius asked.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be. Prongs, honestly, why didn't you tell us?"

"Because it's embarrassing, and not in a way I can laugh about. Just bloody sucks and keeps on sucking until one day I'll stop being able to breathe."

"Stop being so buggering depressing," Sirius said, and James could hear the frown in his voice. "It won't come to that."

Remus looked up again. "You sound awfully certain of that. What are you thinking?"

"Well-" Sirius leaned forward, dislodging James's rather comfortable position "-one of the ways to cure it is to get rid of the feelings, right? So all we have to do is get James to fall in love with someone else, and he's good."

"You make it sound like him falling in love with someone else is a given. Wouldn't they have to love him to or else it would just come back?"

"Who wouldn't love him? C'mon, look at him, no one can resist that."

Sirius sounded terribly certain of that, which made it all the worse that James was currently mashing his glasses against his face rather than change where he was leaning his head.

"Alright so Lily can," he conceded a moment later, "but she's just one bird. Luckily for us, James swings both ways so all we have to do is pick the most likely candidates."

"This is a horrible idea," James said.

"I agree," Remus said, and Peter nodded. "When do we start?"

Sirius pulled a list out of his pocket, and all three of them began going through it, adding names and striking off the ones that they didn't think liked James quite enough to be viable.

"Y'know," Sirius said, all fake casual like he did when he was upset with James, "this whole 'saving you' thing would be going a lot better if you weren't sabotaging it every step of the way. But I guess that's the James Potter way, yeah? Who cares if you die if you do it in a semi-romantic way?"

"I'm not dying."

"Correct me if I'm wrong-" he knew he wasn't wrong "-but Hanahaki is a terminal illness most of the time, isn't it?"

James sighed, settling in to wait this out. When Sirius reached this point, it normally meant that James just had to take it. "Yes."

"And-- again, correct me if I'm wrong-- but you wanted to play Quidditch professionally, didn't you?"

Trust Sirius to go right for the throat. He knew what hurt, and he was going to use it if it came to that. Obviously, he thought it had come to that. "Yes."

"And do you think you can do that with your lungs the way they are?"

"No."

"Interesting," he said in that way that meant it wasn't interesting, it was something he already knew. He had to get James to admit it so they could get to the part where Sirius asked him what he really needed to know. "So, why don't you tell me why you're willing to throw away your future with a career you've wanted your entire life, instead of trying to get over her?" And this is where Sirius dropped the fake-calm facade. "I get it, Lily's great, but she's not worth giving up everything! For fuck's sake James, I thought you'd gotten over her last summer, but now it's like nothing's changed! You can be happy without her, she's not the only thing you've ever liked about your life. I really need you to think, because this isn't a bloody game. This is your life. You have Quidditch, you have the Marauders, you have your grades even if the professional Quidditch career doesn't go through. How can you do this to yourself?"

James didn't answer. He just looked at him blankly.

"James, I'm not fucking around: Lily. Isn't. Worth this. She's great, she's amazing, you love her-- whatever! It won't matter in ten years!"

Still, he said nothing. He didn't mean to. He wanted to open his mouth and assure Sirius that he wasn't throwing his life away, but he couldn't get his body to respond.

And Sirius crumpled. "Fine. Just- fine. Go off and die when you refuse treatment, see if I care." He slammed the door behind him when he left. He never had been a very good liar.

Yeah. Maybe sitting there and not saying anything hadn't been the best way of handling that.

Sirius didn't come back for a couple hours, running off to the Forbidden Forest to waste some energy as Padfoot. James thought about chasing after him, but he needed some time to think, and Sirius needed the time to cool off.

From the moment he'd coughed up his petal, to Sirius finding out, to right before Sirius left, it had never occurred to James to tell him. He could perfectly envision the way Sirius's face would fall, if James told him. The way he'd say he was sorry, but he didn't feel the same. The way he'd suggest that maybe they should try dating anyways, just to see if it would work because maybe he would grow to love James anyways. James wanted a lot from Sirius, but never, not for a moment, did he want to force Sirius into something like that. Because when it inevitably didn't work, Sirius was going to feel more guilty than ever, and James was going to feel absolutely shattered that Sirius couldn't love him back.

He had tried not to think about it. That had been his brilliant plan. He could think about how much he loved Sirius's voice and laugh and smell because they could pass off as friendly qualities. He couldn't think about how much he wanted to kiss him or hold his hand or fall asleep next to him, because that was too far for friends. He put those feelings in a box and pretended that the box did not exist. Surprisingly, it was easier to do now that he had Hanahaki, since Sirius was so concentrated on finding James a partner that they weren't spending as much time together.

Maybe he should come clean though. Refusing to get over Lily was one thing, refusing to get over Sirius was another. Maybe he'd let James leave it all alone if he told him. That didn't really sound like Sirius, but he was willing to give it a try if Sirius came back as mad as ever.

"Feel better?" he asked when Sirius walked back in.

"No."

"Great," James muttered.

"I understood you fancying Lily, but I don't... I don't understand this. How can you be in love with her? You barely know her. She won't let you know her because you were a prat to her for so long. I know that you love her and I'm sorry, but I don't see how she's that important to you."

"You never asked if it was Lily."

Sirius looked up from fiddling with shite on his nightstand. "What?"

"Who I was in love with. You never asked if it was Lily."

"That's because it's so bloody obvious. You haven't talked about anyone else half as often."

Anyone except the other Marauders, but clearly, Sirius didn't think any of them were options. "You think I don't care about her enough for it to be her, but you don't think it could possibly be anyone else."

"Fine," Sirius said, humoring him. "Who are you in love with?"

"You."

Sirius froze. Then he glared. "That's not funny. How can you be so flippant about this?"

James glared right back. "I'm not going to bloody pour out my heart just because you don't believe me. Sod off. Go bother Remus about his muggle mates some more."

"...You're serious. It's me."

"Who the fuck else would it be?" James said, with far more confidence than he was feeling.

Sirius sat down hard on his bed, staring at James like this possibility had literally never occurred to him. "I..."

"I don't need to hear it, mate. Just. I told you so you'd stop trying to set me up with people. I don't expect anything from you."

Sirius walked over and sat on the bed next to him. Neither of them looked at each other. It wasn't awkward-- not quite yet-- but it was too close to that for James to feel good about telling him. "I used to hate Lily. So much for pretty much no reason."

"Yeah I remember."

"It wasn't for no reason. That's what I told you when you asked so you wouldn't get pissed at me, thinking it was blood purist bullshit. It was- erm. More than that."

"What do you mean 'more'?"

"Come on, don't make me say it. You know what I'm talking about."

"You're crediting me with more brains than I have."

Sirius gave him a flat look. "You're not stupid, you berk," he said, giving him a shove.

"Hey, I'm fragile. On death's doorstep."

Sirius gave him a small smile, one that was completely at odds with the way their banter normally went. "I've been in love with you since- Merlin only knows how long, and you only ever had eyes for Lily. It was stupid, but I thought that if you liked her a little less, maybe you'd notice me as more than a mate. And now... now you're trying to tell me that it is me. Kinda seems like a load of tripe, y'know?"

"I dunno, but if I kiss you does that mean you won't hex me?"

Sirius huffed, but that wasn't a no and even though he was about to argue with him, James figured this was the best time he'd get. He put a hand on the side of Sirius's face and leaned in. Sitting next to each other wasn't the best angle for this sort of thing, but it got his point across rather nicely.

"I think the real question is how in the buggering hell you let me make such an arse of myself for that many years without saying anything."

"I thought it was cute, now shut it and kiss me again. Merlin, you're a dick, I can't believe you developing Hanahaki over me."

James decided that kissing was both fun and a good way of getting both of them to shut it.

#prongsfoot #marauders #fanfic #sirius black #james potter #filled #getting together #no voldemort au #hogwarts time #siriuslystarbucks #Anonymous

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nonstoplover · 5 years ago

Text

Café ~ Dave Franco

masterlist

Summary: (Y/N) loves spending her time in her favourite coffee shop, but what she’d never imagine is that one day it becomes more than just grabbing a coffee, spending time with a specific brown haired boy…

Words: 2.7K

Approximate reading time: about 10 mins

A/N: this was my first actual request, and it was so long ago i’m sure you already forgot about it, @mcrvellouslystcrk but i didn’t, and after this long time i’m here with the finished product. i’m sorryyyy for taking so long, i had a terrible writer’s block, but now inspiration came back and i finished it in only a couple days. hope you enjoy

The smell of freshly brewed coffee catches my nostrils as I enter the small, indie-themed café. I take a deep breath happily like a real coffee addict when I feel the familiar calmness spread through my veins because of the oh-so-loved smell.

I look around, gladly noticing that my favourite table at the back of the room, next to the furthest window is left free, as if it’s waiting only for me.

I quickly walk towards the wooden furniture, placing my coat and scarf on one of the chairs as a signal that it’s taken before stepping to the counter to ask for the coffee I always order.

The girl behind the counter only glances up and she already recognises me, a smile appears on her face as she moves to start making a coffee for me.

“The same as usual, am I right? How are you today?”

“Yes, exactly. I’m great, thank you, a little tired.” I answer, smiling back at her.

“I’m glad you’re feeling great.” She beams up at me, pausing for a moment before speaking up again, finishing up the final touches on my order. “Let me tell you this one thing though, today has been absolutely crazy. So many people came in, even a couple celebrities!”

“Oh, really? I haven’t seen anyone.” I quickly look around to see if there is anyone famous around, but don’t catch sight of anyone except the bored businessmen and hippie-looking writers typing away on their laptops.

“It’s quite a surprise that your table stayed free to be honest. Some movie is being shot near here, all the crew and staff comes to take a drink. Which is of course great, because the more orders, the more money, and also you can meet a lot of famous people, but you know, I can’t take a rest if there are so many people…” She hands me the familiar reusable paper cup. “But enough of my ranting, have a nice time here as usual and enjoy your drink.”

I stroll back to my table, sitting down. A happy sigh escapes past my lips as I finally taste the hot beverage on my tongue, and I quickly reach in my bag with my free hand to take my book out. It almost opens up by itself at the page I finished reading the last time due to having been read a few times already.

Calmness spreads all over me again right away, making me forget all my problems and nervousness as I take in the words from the lovely smelled pages.

Not many minutes later out of nowhere I hear a gentle cough from above my head as the shadow of a body appears in the corner of my eyes, standing next to me. I look up to see a man with a cup similar to mine in his hand, mouth smiling down at me but his eyes stay hidden behind a pair of sunglasses.

“Hello. Sorry for disturbing, is this seat taken?”

“Oh, no, it’s not, feel free to sit down.” I’m quick to reply, pulling my things closer to me on the wooden surface to free up more space on it.

“Thank you,” he smiles and as he sits down, a strange feeling comes over me. I know this man. “I’m Dave by the way.”

And all of a sudden I know why he seemed so familiar.

He’s Dave Franco. The Dave Franco. I’m sitting at the same table with Dave Franco.

These thoughts run through my mind swiftly, his name repeated every other second as a wave of recognition hits me, but I’m quick to re-gain composure and half-recover from the shock I’m feeling and I try to act like I don’t know who he is.

“Ah, I’m… I’m (Y/N).”

“Beautiful name,” he announces before taking a sip of his drink. “Mmm, it tastes absolutely fantastic.”

“Yeah, this place is the best in town.” I slowly drink from mine as a shy smile spreads across my face.

“You come here often?”

“Yes, once a week. I used to come here almost every day but I realised that I’m going to spend all my money here and soon I’ll gain more weight than I’d want to, so I reduced the number of my visits to only once in a week. It’s my happy place. Here I can calm down whenever I need to,” I speak, words flying out my mouth rapidly. “Ugh, sorry, I’m rambling about my nonsense to a stranger.”

“Please, don’t apologize, I’m interested,” he smiles my way before lowering his head, eyes probably noticing the book laying in front of me. “What are you reading?”

Oh, well, that’s it. You can’t hide it anymore. He’s gonna find out that you know him.

“Nerve. I saw the film adaptation a while back and loved it so much that I decided to read it,” I mumble, staring right at the mentioned book, not being able to look up at his face.

A few second long silence comes as an answer and I glance up to see the blush creeping up his cheeks as he processes my words.

“So you’ve seen the movie, eh?” He finally says, voice a bit raspy before clearing his throat.

“Yeah.” I can’t tell which one of us is more embarrassed and flushed red at the moment, but I can’t take it after a while and look back down at my hands resting on the table.

“Then you know who I…” his voice gets more and more quiet as he speaks, slowly dying off, as he’s not being able to finish the sentence he has started.

“Yep, I know who you are, Dave Franco. I admire your work actually,” I say quietly, making sure no one else around us hears my words, my eyes still casted on my hands.

Only a couple seconds later I get the courage finally to raise my head up and look at his face, somewhere where his eyes are probably situated behind the sunglasses, and I’m trying hard to calm down, or to at least look like I’m calm from his point of view when in reality inside my chest my heart seems to burst with excitement.

“Oh,” is his only response.

“You alright?” I ask as he starts uncomfortably shifting. Did I say something I shouldn’t have?

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I’m just a bit… surprised,” he pauses in the middle of his sentence, probably searching for the right word.

“Surprised?” I cock an eyebrow at him in confusion.

“I’m not used to get this reaction from girls who know who I am.”

Then probably my trying has succeeded and I do look like I’m calm.

“Well, you know, it doesn’t have such a huge impact on me. I’ve met with other huge celebrities in my life.”

He clears his throat, seeming even more uncomfortable by now.

“I’m only joking. I’ve never met any famous people before actually,” I chuckle after seeing his expression.

“Oh. Oh!” Dave kinda exclaims in realization. “Then how are you so calm?”

“I’m not.” I admit with a blush appearing on my face.

“Then you’re a great actor,” he smiles before moving to take another sip of his drink.

“I don’t think so, but I have to admit that it feels nice to hear this coming from an already proven to be amazing actor.”

Now it’s his time to blush. He shakes his head before an adorable giggle rolls out from his mouth.

“What?” I laugh. “It’s not like you didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, but I can’t get used to hearing it from a random pretty girl I just met at a random café.” Dave looks at me, his eyebrows half raised, appearing from behind the sunglasses.

Hearing those words I can’t keep looking at him and turn my gaze away. I stare into my cup, watching intently how the steam slowly flies up, out of the brown coloured beverage.

“So, (Y/N). What do you do? Work? College?” Dave speaks up again and I take a deep breath before looking back up, only to see that he has lowered the accessory sitting on his nose, and he’s now watching me curiously with nothing in the way of his set of lovely, brown eyes.

“So, David. I’m a uni student at the moment but I’m also working. So technically both.” I keep a straight face on, a kind of challenging one to be exact.

“What do you study?”

“Psychology.” I answer, and he freezes for a moment, his eyes gleaming with interest before probably deciding on to simply continue interviewing me.

“What do you work?”

“I’m a waitress.”

“Oh, nice. Where?” Dave nods.

“A nearby restaurant.”

“I see, you pretty much like this neighbourhood.”

“You don’t even know it all.” I chuckle. He’s just about to speak up again when I lean closer and as a top secret I whisper the answer to the question I know he’s just about to ask. “I even live in this neighbourhood.”

“No way.” Dave gasps, leaning in above the table like me.

I nod, glancing around to see if anyone else heard what I said, staying in character the whole time. When I look back into his light brown orbs, he breathes out a quiet ‘why’ and I can feel the air coming out past his lips on the skin of my face.

Suddenly I’m more than aware of the fact that we’re only a few mere centimetres away from each other’s face.

A shiver runs down my spine and then moves through my whole body as Dave leans back in his seat and starts laughing.

“I actually still believe that you would be a terrifically awesome actress.”

“Well, thank you.”

“Wow, no resistance? Where’s the girl I got to know a few minutes ago? All rebel and stuff.”

Laughter takes control over me as I watch, well actually almost admire his whole presence as he sips from his cup again, his eyes never leaving me, even for a second.

“After this improvised scene we just did I think I see what you mean,” I shrug when my laughter finally quietens.

“Maybe I should introduce you to my manager. You know, to see if you’d get a role in something.”

“I’m pretty sure I would get the leading role in any movie without making a real effort.” I smirk.

“Can I be honest with you?” Dave all of a sudden leans forward again, a serious expression spreading across his cheeks. I nod curiously and he continues. “I miss the old shy (Y/N). I don’t like this sarcastic, cocky new version.” I burst out laughing, so hard that I have to grab at my sides as it starts to hurt, quickly losing my breath. People sitting around us cast curious or even irritated glances towards me, but I can’t help it and I keep on laughing.

A few minutes pass by with only my laughter and other various background noises filling up the air before I try to calm myself down. After taking a few deep breaths I manage to sit back up straight and look at him.

He’s watching me with something different in his eyes. Something I would describe as adoration, but that can’t be true. Why would he ever look at me like that?

“That’s what you get after getting to know me.” I speak up to divert my thoughts.

“Yeah?” He grins, the previous look in his eyes decreasing but not fully disappearing.

“Yeah. I’m usually described as a pretty sarcastic person. People also get annoyed with me quite often,” I admit, curiously waiting for his reaction.

“We have to meet more then so I can get to know you, you made me interested. Now I wanna see why people get annoyed.” Dave looks at me with a daring gleam in his eyes.

My heart stops for a second at his obviously flirty answer. Why would he want to meet me?

“We’re both quite busy people from what I can tell. How do you wanna do that?” I crook my neck, glancing up at him intrigued from the new, different angle.

“I don’t know yet. We have to figure it out.”

About half a minute passes with neither of us speaking, but the intension of our stares grows more and more as we can’t tear our gaze away, trapped in the depth of the eyes of each other.

“I was serious, I hope you know that,” Dave speaks again with his expression turning less playful. “I want to meet you again.”

A blush makes its way to my cheeks as his eyes soften, him still not taking them off me. “I’d love to meet you again, too,” I answer quietly.

“Amazing!” He grins.

Another few seconds pass in a comfortable silence, the type that’s filled with deep, maddening thinking.

“Actually, I admit, I’m still not sure why you wanna do that,” I speak my thoughts out loud. “You don’t even know who I am and if I’m crazy, like at all. Nothing.”

“I know. We only met a few minutes ago.” His eyes are still the same soft and I’m effortlessly melting in those auburn irises.

“Exactly.”

“Well, only in a few seconds you woke an interest in me. And I have this weird feeling that we could be great friends.”

Friends. So that’s what he wants. Only friends. I feel like something just hit me hard in the chest. Of course, why would he want anything more? How could I be so stupid?

“(Y/N)? (Y/N),” the concern in his voice breaks me out of the train of thoughts that goes on in my head. "Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking.”

“I have to go back to set now, but I wanted to ask for your number.”

The butterflies in my stomach start flying around again but I stop them, knowing that it’s useless. He only sees me as a friend. He only wants to be my friend.

“Oh, sure. Give me your phone.” I say, faking a smile on my face, my thoughts still swirling about how much of an idiot I feel like at the moment for thinking I could ever be more to someone like him.

Dave’s right hand is already holding the phone prepared for this, so in less than a moment he places it on the surface of the table. I grab it, typing in my number and name before pressing save and placing it back in his palm.

I’m still somewhere deep in my thoughts, not paying real attention to the situation when I notice him staring at me, clearly waiting for something.

“What?” I ask.

“Give me your phone as well. Or you don’t want my number?” Dave jokes but I can see it in his eyes that he’s truly worried about yes being the answer to his question.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” I stutter, quickly reaching into my bag to pull my phone out, unlocking it and almost throwing it in his hand because of the speed I want to do it.

“Whoa whoa whoa, slow down, I’m not in that much of a hurry,” he laughs.

I let out a nervous chuckle, trying to get away from my previous thoughts, not letting them come back.

“Okay, here you go,” he puts it down and stands up before speaking again. “Well, talk to you later.”

“You too.” I turn my head up towards him. He pushes his sunglasses back up to over his eyes before flashing a heart melting smile at me.

“Have a nice day. It was a pleasure to spend my break with you.”

“Yeah, it was pretty nice to meet you. Have fun on set.”

He nods, both our smiles matching the other’s, bright and happy, before he turns away and starts making his way towards the door. He turns back once more and while taking a few steps backwards, speaks up one last time.

“Sorry for not letting you read.”

I only chuckle, shaking my head as a signal that it’s not a problem.

The smile stays on my face the whole time while I’m drinking the last few sips of my coffee, not even touching my book again, just staring out of my head to the table in front of me.

When I finish, I quickly place all my stuff back in my bag and stand up, pulling on my jacket.

“Saw you had a nice company.” Maddy, the barista appears next to me out of nowhere, a piece of material in her hand to clean the table I was sitting at.

“You did?” I ask back, confused that she isn’t freaking out by the fact that it was indeed a famous actor.

“At least he looked pretty decent from behind,” she speaks without looking up at me, and it becomes clear to me why she’s so calm.

“Didn’t he face you at the counter though?”

“Oh yeah, really… ” Maddy pauses with a thoughtful expression on her face, then suddenly seems to remember the situation more exactly as she continues with an explanation. “He had his sunglasses on at the time, I couldn’t see his face.”

“Oh, I see.” I move my head in a nod, accepting that she didn’t recognise his face without the full view of it like I did.

“So, was he good?” She winks at me.

“Yeah, pretty handsome.” I blush, remembering how my conversation with Dave Franco turned out.

Maddy finishes cleaning and folds the cloth in her hands, smirking at me.

“I saw you exchange phone numbers, so… fill me in with the details next week.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” I giggle.

“Have a nice week!”

“You too, Maddy.” I call out while making my way towards the door and stepping out of the café.

Crisp early spring air enters my nose as soon as I close the door behind me, and I take a deep breath, enjoying the chillness that fills up my lungs in no time.

Feeling refreshened and happy I glance up at the light blue sky, squint a bit because of the sun that’s shining bright down at me, and as a joyous smile reaches across my face, I start walking away in the direction of my apartment, feeling content in my heart.

.::the end::.

Part Two here

masterlist

#dave franco #dave franco imagine #now you see me #jack wilder #nerve #nerve ian #franco #requested #imagine #café shop #coffee date #21 jump street #22 jump street

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breakingsomething · 5 years ago

Text

october tenth - part three

ok so this one is 8.7k words so be warned. tagging @beebmo for inspiring this idea!

basic summary: aiden takes guitar lessons. jack meets a man in a store. both of them keep secrets and don't communicate, as per usual.

trigger warnings: blood, alcohol, mentions of murder, self harm

aiden hadn't realized just how lacking in social skills he was until he was attempting to make contact with someone other than jack for the first time.

the door of the music store was red, with a small window on the front. it was covered in colourful flyers and newsletters, advertising various events and things aiden knew nothing about. there was a small sign that said "push" in bold black letters. aiden had been staring at it too long to feel comfortable. shaking slightly in his long black coat and beanie. too afraid to step inside.

"excuse me, are you going in or not?"

aiden jumped, not turning to look and see who had spoken but instead quickly pushing open the door open and stepping inside. the store was much warmer than the biting air outside, the lights so bright it made aiden wince. there were stacks of records and cds and vinyls, so many vivid colours and patterns and fonts. a loud song aiden didn't recognize blasted over speakers above. aiden felt his lips twitch at the corners. oh, he thought he already loved this place. was it just because it was somewhere other than jack's place? he didn't know. didn't care enough to think about it.

he glanced around for the employee he was supposed to talk to, anxiety bubbling in his chest again. it wasn't just that he was an introvert or antisocial, though he supposed those were supporting factors - but he had literally never held a conversation with anyone other than jack in his life. on a couple occasions he'd spoken a few words to others, but now… now, he was not only going to have to talk, but pretend to be jack at the same time. which he could do. maybe. in front of a camera was one thing, but…

"can i help you, sir?" said a man dressed in all black, with a nametag on his shirt. rhudy, it said his name was. "are you jack? just wondering, you look rather lost."

aiden just nodded, for all his usual cockiness suddenly rendered unable to speak. rhudy smiles, dimples appearing in his pale cheeks. "alright!" he stretched out a hand for aiden to shake. he didn't take it, swallowing hard, and rhudy retracted his arm without changing expression. "come round the back, i'll show you around. we only have a small space for lessons, hope you're not claustrophobic, ha!" he beamed, and turned to walk in the other direction, quickly weaving through the shelves.

no, he wasn't claustrophobic. he was, however, breathing very heavily and feeling rather like he needed to sit down. he wanted jack. gods, he wanted jack. with a shuddering breath - this was pathetic, he needed to calm the fuck down - he followed the other man to the back.

it was small. red walls covered in shelves, stacks of different instruments in one corner next to a large window covered with white curtains. there were five chairs in a circle in the centre of the room on top of an oval crimson rug. rhudy pulled a chair and sat, aiden very slowly following but staying as far away from him as he could. every nerve in his body was screaming at him to run.

"now, jack," the man said, running his fingers though wavy black hair, dyed blue at the ends. "my name's rhudy, pronounced roo-dee, it's great to meet you. you told me you know a bit of guitar already?"

jack had told him that. aiden nodded again, biting his tongue so hard blood welled up in his mouth.

rhudy gave a small laugh, reaching behind him and grabbing a red acoustic guitar, much like aiden's own but definitely in better condition. "do you talk, then? nothing wrong if you don't want to, just wanting to know."

aiden flushed, forcing himself to open his mouth. "yeah, yeah, course," he said, far too quickly. his fingers gripped the underside of his seat far too tightly.

rhudy blinked, then tilted his head slightly. there was a moment of silence before he spoke, his words sending spikes through aiden's heart. "your name isn't jack, is it?"

aiden was going to throw up. "course it is," he laughed nervously, voice far too high pitched. fuck, but he hated this man for making him feel this way. how did he know, how did he -

"no," rhudy said firmly, leaning forward in his seat, guitar on his lap forgotten. "it's not. and you're…" he lowered his voice. "you're definitely magic or something, it's coming off you in waves. what kind of magician are you, then?" he folded his hands. "also, what's your real name? just by looking at you, i think maybe it starts with an a." he started listing off ideas, ignoring aiden's small noises of protest. "andrew? anthony? aleksanteri? antiseptic?"

he then seemed to notice how pale aiden had gone and how badly he was shaking. "oh, oh, i didn't mean to upset you," he said, sitting up again awkwardly.

"y-you didn't," aiden spat, trying to disguise his panic with anger. he wanted to fucking kill this man, he wanted to… oh, this wasn't right, he couldn't be here, he had to go home to jack. aiden stood, pushing past the chairs and making for the door. "i think this was a mistake."

"wait, wait!" rhudy said, setting his guitar aside as he leapt to his feet and stumbled past the chairs to stand in front of aiden. "i am so sorry, i get carried away sometimes and i swear i didn't mean to -" he took a breath. "sorry, really. i'll call you jack if you want."

aiden burned. he wanted to run, he wanted to pull the switchblade from his jacket pocket and rip this man's throat out. "ok," he instead said softly. more blood in his mouth as he sat back down, rhudy following.

he narrowed his eyes, desperately trying to push through his slowly building panic attack and regain some semblance of dignity. "magician," he muttered. "what makes you think i'm a magician?"

rhudy hesitated, reevaluating. aiden hated him. "you're… you smell like magic. harsh, like fire, or an overheating computer." he snorted, trying to keep eye contact with aiden. "do you do magic?"

aiden had come here for a guitar lesson. a fucking guitar lesson. "no," he said firmly. "i don't. do… do you?"

rhudy nodded. "you don't know about… well, suppose it doesn't matter." and before aiden can say a word, he picked up the guitar again. "anyway, let's -"

"hey, wait, you can't - you can't just dump that shit on me and then teach me guitar!" aiden spluttered, throwing up his arms. "how did you know my name wasn't -" shit. he visibly winced. rhudy just smiled, eyes twinkling.

"i know things," he said, tapping the side of his head. "that's one thing i'm good at. knowing things. clairvoyance, it's called."

clairvoyance. wow, everything made sense now.

rhudy absentmindedly plucked a tune on the guitar strings, raising an eyebrow. "so your name's not jack?"

"no," aiden admitted. he didn't say anything else.

rhudy nodded. "ok, i'm calling you antiseptic then. more badass name than fucking andrew. unless that is your name?" aiden shook his head. "ok. anyway. we'll have plenty of time to talk about magic later. for now, let's just… ok. what songs can you play?"

rhudy was odd. rhudy was odd, and aiden did not know how to feel about him.

over the next two weeks, he explained a bit about the magic to him. from what he said, it seemed like magic was slightly more common that aiden had thought, which worried him. surely he would have noticed, surely he would have seen at some point? he'd considered the possibility that jack's creation of his magician had something to do with it, but that seemed ridiculous. bringing to life one person with magic powers was one thing, but a whole group of people? unless… unless jack was one of them. a particularly powerful magician, maybe. ugh, it hurt to think about.

aiden didn't tell jack what he'd learned.

well, he did tell jack some of the things he'd learned. the music related things, at least. jack had commented on how much he'd improved in terms of playing, and despite himself, aiden had swelled with pride.

"thanks. i guess lessons are paying off." he grinned. jack ruffled his hair as he walked by, and aiden attempted to swat at his legs as his friend laughed.

"oh, they are. i can say this now, but you were simply terrible before, aid. completely and utterly horrendous." he smirked and disappeared into the kitchen.

aiden rolled his eyes, zipping up his guitar case and preparing to head out again. "well, that's rude."

"it's just truth!"

aiden followed jack into the kitchen and stuck out his tongue. "ok, whatever. dickwad. what are you doing today?"

jack shrugged. "dunno. i've been watching dude perfect a lot, i was legitimately thinking about attempting to fly to texas and do a collab with them." he laughed at the ridiculousness of it, evidently trying to relieve the tension of making a joke like that. he knew aiden didn't like jack's collabs. "what do you think?"

aiden rolled his eyes, grabbing his boots from the shoe rack. he knew jack was only joking. "alright then, bro average."

"hey, that's so mean!"

"oh, i'm mean? you just told me my guitar was shite!"

"your guitar was shite, past tense!"

"fuck you, i'm leaving."

jack rummaged in the fridge, pulling out a rectangular bottle. "stacy, no, don't take the kids," he joked, twisting off the cap and taking a gulp.

aiden suddenly frowned. "are you day drinking, jay? seriously?"

jack shrugged and sat down at the table, pulling out his phone and adjusting his grey snapback. "this whiskey is nice. don't worry, i wouldn't get drunk without you."

"can't get drunk with me, either, if you don't want to kill me." aiden said as he tied his boots. "are you forgetting i can't drink?"

jack started, blinking like he'd just woken up. "oh… oh, yeah," he murmured softly. "yeah."

aiden didn't move for a second. then he came round the table and hesitantly placed a hand on the back of jack's neck. "jay, are you ok? you've been acting… a bit off, lately."

jack nodded, far too quickly. "yeah, yeah, of course," he reassured. "just a… i'm fine, don't worry."

aiden didn't have time to worry anyway. he was late for his lesson. he just smiled and told jack to take care of himself as he left, half jogging down the street with his case on his back.

yes, rhudy was odd. he talked about magic ever so casually when he was around aiden, and joked with him like he was an old friend. aiden was still debating killing him. but part of him thought… maybe he liked this guy. he was interesting, definitely. and he was good at guitar. and he was nice to aiden despite how rude and snappy he was. aiden couldn't understand him.

"hey, anti!" rhudy greeted him as soon as he came into the store. he had his hair back in the tiniest ponytail, curls hanging down in front of his face. he didn't try to high five aiden, either, which showed he'd at least been paying attention to his touch aversive tendencies. "good to see you, even if it it ten minutes late." he laughed, already starting for the back of the room. aiden smiled slightly. yes, he thought he did like this guy.

there was someone waiting in the back room.

"oh, is someone in here?" said the man who was sitting on aiden's usual seat. he had spiky brown hair and a long beard, a bass guitar resting on his legs. "sorry, bros, lemme move my stuff."

aiden and rhudy waited awkwardly as the man slowly packed up his guitar, chattering all the while. "no one told me this room was being used, rhudy, apologies. i thought it was free, didn't know you did lessons in here on thursdays."

"yep, i do," rhudy interrupted. "it's ok, rory, just remember that for future."

aiden got the feeling rhudy wasn't exactly fond of this man. he shifted from foot to foot, tapping his fingers on his knife in his pocket.

rory looked up at the movement, standing up straight. "well, who's this awkward looking fellow?" he asked cheerfully, and aiden's face burned. the man flashed a grin. "name's rory. rhudy teaches me too sometimes, when i can pay him." he laughed, though no one else did. "so, you any good on guitar? can't be that great if rhudy's teaching you."

"hurry up, rory," rhudy said tiredly before aiden could do anything he wouldn't regret. "we have a lesson to have."

"naturally!" rory chuckled. he clapped aiden's shoulder, causing him to yelp and rory to laugh. "oho, calm down, i won't hurt you. a bit jumpy, are we?" he waved at rhudy as he went out, and he unwillingly waved back. "seeya, lads!"

the man had his phone in his pocket. by the time he'd left the room, aiden had gotten everything he needed. he sat down next to rhudy, shaking with rage and anxiety and disgust.

"sorry about him," rhudy said sympathetically. "he's… a lot to handle. doesn't mean any harm, really."

aiden didn't care. the second he was feeling upset enough to kill anyone again, this man was becoming his first new victim. he had his address now. fuck anything else.

but then rhudy tilted his head, looking aiden in the eyes. "can i touch your shoulder?" and just the fact that he asked touched aiden enough that he nodded, and before starting the lesson rhudy gently pat aiden's shoulder and smiled, and aiden felt strangely warm for the rest of the day.

everything was wrong.

everything was so painfully wrong that jack felt sick. if anyone had asked, he wouldn't have been able to tell them what the problem was, but he knew that something was so off it was making him shake and cause bile to burn his throat. he pulled his knees up to his chest on the couch and took a desperate gulp of his whiskey, hoping that maybe for a second it would burn this feeling away. it didn't. in fact, it seemed to make it worse.

he should be recording. he should be making videos. he shouldn't be shivering in his living room, curled up and drinking an expensive bottle of japanese whiskey. where was aiden? fuck, he needed aiden. he was going to throw up or pass out or something. part of him hoped for the latter if only to rip this strange horrible feeling right out of him.

no keys in the lock. no knock at the door. jack couldn't sit up to look at the couch, but he knew aiden wouldn't be back anytime soon. he let out a shuddering breath and laid sideways on the couch, his bottle falling to the floor. he didn't care. he fucking hated the taste anyway.

"i better go home soon," aiden said, though part of him really didn't want to. he was actually having a good time. he and rhudy had stopped playing guitar long ago - now they were just talking, or really, rhudy was talking and aiden was listening. which he was fine with, really. it was easier for both of them that way.

"aw, man," rhudy groaned exaggeratedly, slumping back dramatically in his chair. "really? come on, septic, stay here, i don't have any other lessons tonight."

aiden shook his head. part of him thought about staying, if only so he wouldn't have to go home and see jack. but he was getting tired anyway. "yeah, i should go."

rhudy made a face and stood. "ok, ok. see you tomorrow?"

aiden frowned as he slung his case onto his back. "i don't have a lesson tomorrow."

rhudy gave an embarrassed laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. "oh yeah, you don't, do you," he murmured. then he raised an eyebrow. "would you like to? maybe somewhere… not here? like… out in the park or something?"

they made their way over to the door, aiden biting his lip. "you, uh, you wanna give me a guitar lesson in a park?"

rhudy nodded eagerly. "uh, yeah. a guitar lesson, yeah. just - yeah. if you want."

aiden shrugged, feeling a grin on his face. "yeah, sure, yeah. if you want."

"if you want."

"if you want!"

and despite wondering if maybe he was missing something obvious, aiden was smiling as he left the store and walked home, feeling light and warm.

that feeling immediately dissipated the second he walked in the house.

it was freezing. the windows seemed to be all open, a cold breeze blowing the curtains out. "bloody hell," aiden muttered, slamming one shut and glancing down the hall. "jack, you up?"

there was a moment of silence before aiden heard a sound that made every hair in his body stand on end. a sharp, pained whimper, coming from what seemed to be the living room.

he bolted down the hall, shrugging off his guitar and tossing it carelessly to the ground. when he came into the room, his heart dropped. jack was curled up on the couch, shaking badly, hands over his ears and blood on his face. his eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and he didn't look up as aiden dropped to his knees beside the couch, gasping. "jack! jesus shit, jack!"

jack gave a small, pathetic cry. "no, no, leave me alone," he sobbed, drawing even further into himself. "don't touch, don't hurt, fuck off, fuck off, fuck off!"

aiden cursed, noticing an empty bottle of alcohol on the floor near the couch. "fuck, jay, how much did you have to drink?"

"barely anything, swear, i don't drink, i don't!" jack cried, trying to cover his face and ears at the same time. "leave me 'lone, go away, don't want to hurt anyone, don't want to die!"

aiden's blood ran cold. "jack. jack, what are you talking about? did someone hurt you? did something - shit, jay, did you make another video?"

"no, no, no!" jack wailed, tossing and turning wildly. blood trickled from his eyes and onto the cushions below. "i didn't, aiden, didn't do anything, please!"

aiden couldn't get another coherent sentence out of him for another four or so hours. by the time jack calmed and was able to sit up and speak properly, it was late at night and the room was dark. jack leaned his head against aiden's shoulder, breathing heavily and shakily but still breathing, still breathing. aiden didn't know what to say.

"i'm sorry," were the first words jack said when he could speak. "i don't know what came over me."

aiden stroked his hair, the physical contact making him shiver. "there was blood and shit," he mumbled. "like a creation. but it was - you didn't make a video."

"i didn't make a video for you either," jack said, voicing what they were both thinking.

"i… i'm different," aiden said. "and we both know it."

jack glanced over, his eyes red. "different how?"

aiden didn't want to say it. he didn't want to say anything. so he didn't.

"maybe you have some kind of epilepsy too," he eventually said. "and that's why you have those…seizures."

jack snorted. "seizures that make me bleed from the eyes and create magic clones of myself?"

aiden smacked his chin into his knees. "well, you didn't make any magic clones this time." he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself. "you just drank too much, that's all."

"drank one bottle of whiskey and bled like a demon," jack said under his breath, and aiden pretended not to hear him.

they spent the night watching voyager and eventually fell asleep, jack on aiden's legs and aiden slumped over the arm of the couch.

aiden left early the next day.

"who are you texting?" jack teased as he walked past aiden in the kitchen. they had wordlessly agreed to put the events of last night behind them until they had to face them. "and why-y do you have your guitar with you? you don't have a lesson."

aiden flipped him off without looking up. "because fuck you, that's why."

jack frowned. "be careful, aid."

he glanced up, relaxing and shooting a small smile. "when am i not careful, jack?" he furrowed his brow. "don't answer that."

after aiden had left, jack decided to go out shopping. it was early on a saturday, and there were a lot of families with kids and such, who jack carefully avoided as much as he could. he stopped in the sweets aisle, pondering buying aiden some black liquorice. he hadn't been spending a lot of time with him lately, and figured maybe he'd appreciate it. he was just throwing a bag into his basket when someone small bumped into his legs.

he jumped, turning round quickly to face whoever it was. a young girl, no older than six, with brown hair in a ponytail and a puffy pink jacket. "papa, connor's being mean!" she whined, not letting go of his legs. "i wanted to get the tangfastics, but he said he wanted them, but i asked first, papa! i asked first, i called bagsy!"

jack was stunned into silence for a second. "uh," he eventually managed. "uh, kid, i'm not your… your papa."

the girl looked up, bright blue eyes sparkling. "you're silly!" she grinned, then taking a step back. "lift me up, i lost connor and wanna see him over all the people!"

jack was just about to start panicking when someone came through the crowd, tapping the girl on the head. "lou-ise, did you -" he started, then he and jack both looked up and froze.

jack's first thought was - "aiden?" he said, confused. "what are you…"

but no, this wasn't aiden. but the man was jack's exact twin in every seemingly possible way. messy, yellow-green hair, a short brown beard, bright blue eyes, wearing a grey snapback and black leather jacket. he was staring at jack blankly, eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly open. jack stared right back, mind absolutely racing.

his first instinct was to run. what if this was jackieboy man or the magnificent magician, the ones who had hurt aiden? but before he could do anything, before he could race down the aisle as quickly as he could, the girl next to him spoke. "you're not my papa!" she said, skipping over to her other man and the tiny blonde boy that jack assumed was her brother. she grabbed her papa's hand and both kids joined their father in staring at jack in awe.

"holy sh- my god," the man said after a moment, sounding just like jack but with an american accent. "you look - wow, that's so unbelievably weird. you are… you're like my exact twin. and i found you in an asda. what - what the hell?" he broke into a grin, laughing at the ridiculousness of it. "are you my long lost brother or something?"

jack made several noises, struggling to speak actual words. "i… uh…" he snorted, putting his hands in his jacket pockets. "yeah, this is… weird."

"he even sounds like you, papa!" the boy cried, stepping forwards slightly. he made a face at jack, his sister giggling. their dad shook his head before letting go of his daughter's hand and stretching it out towards jack.

"sorry, uh, my name's chase," he said, still grinning. jack shook his hand, suddenly very aware of how many people were in here watching this go down. "chase brody. it's, uh, nice to meet you, even under these odd circumstances, ha."

jack forced a grin. he didn't recognize the name at all. he couldn't be the doctor either, then, the doctor was german and his name wasn't brody, it had been… schneeplestein? "my name's jack," he said. "yeah, wow. nice to - to meet you, yeah."

there were several seconds of awkward silence after that, until the girl spoke again. "are you our uncle?" she asked. "or papa's brother? why do you look like him? are you twins? do you know each other? are you his clone?"

jack laughed despite himself. "i wish i could answer any of those questions, uh…" he looked at chase questioningly.

"oh! this is louise, and my son, connor," chase introduced, tapping them both on the head in turn. "and, uh, we should probably get going, my wife will be wondering. wait a sec." he pulled a tiny notebook and pen from his pocket, scribbling something onto the paper. "i don't think this is something we can just walk away from and never think of again, so i'm gonna give you my number, maybe we can talk later." he handed the paper to jack, and he took it, both of them smiling awkwardly. "yeah. uh, good to meet you." he grabbed his children's hands again, and they both waved at jack as they turned round and started to walk off. "see you, dude!"

jack waved slowly, staring after them long after they were gone.

it was cold out. so cold out that no children or families were even in the park, leaving it all to aiden and rhudy. they chattered warmly as they crunched through the early september frost in the grass, making their way over to a spot in the field next to the trees and sitting on the freezing ground. rhudy had bought them food from greggs, and they ate as they talked, both guitars forgotten on their legs as they leaned against the trees. despite the chill, this was the warmest aiden had felt in a long time. it felt like easier days, like when jack and aiden had been able to get along and be friends instead of snapping and ignoring each other. it felt good. it felt happy.

this wasn't a feeling aiden was used to, but he wished he could be.

later on, they picked up their stuff and walked down on the beach. the tide was in, so they kept close to the wall, stumbling over rocks and slipping on seaweed, laughing loudly and clinging to each other. for once, aiden didn't mind the unexpected touch that he usually only accepted from jack. it felt happy. everything really did feel happy.

"come on, anti!" rhudy yelled, racing ahead of him across the rocks. aiden flipped him off, finding solid ground and taking advantage of it to run after him. he was aware of how stupid the both of them must look right now - two men in their late twenties chasing each other like children - but he suddenly didn't care. he didn't care, and he didn't know why. he was having fun. he wasn't feeling depressed, he wasn't thinking about killing himself, he was alive and it felt fucking amazing. he laughed as he tore across the rocks, almost catching up to rhudy, reaching out to grab his arm -

and slipping, falling -

"anti! anti, shit, anti!"

he groaned, bright light in front of his eyes the second he opened them. something digging into his back. sand on his hands, something sharp, his head, his head hurt - "fuck," he mumbled. he felt a pair of hands grab his, helping him sit up. "oh, oh, fuck, ow."

"anti, are you ok? shit, did you hit your head? are you bleeding? your hands are bleeding, shit," rhudy panicked. his hands were on aiden's shoulders, aiden's face. he let out a noise and leaned into the other man, his whole body aching.

rhudy ran his hands over his back. "hey, i think you're ok, i don't - i don't have a medkit, specifically, but we can go to mine and get -"

and suddenly the embarrassment of everything hit aiden all at once. what was he doing, running around like an idiot, getting so close to someone who was still mostly a stranger? he pulled back, cheeks burning in humiliation, struggling to push himself up. "i'm fine, i have to - i have to get home, my - my roommate will be worried about me."

rhudy nodded, too quickly. "oh, yeah, sure," he said. he grabbed aiden's hands again, trying to help him up, but he was suddenly just so fucking angry with everything that he pushed him off, stumbling to his feet himself. it was after he'd done that that he realized that had been a dumb idea - sand had gotten into the big cut on his hand, and it stung. he swayed on his feet, and rhudy helped steady him despite his yelp of protest.

"i'm - uh, i'm sorry you… can i walk you home?" rhudy blurted. aiden started making his way back up the beach, trying to subtly wipe sand off himself.

"i'll be fine," he mumbled. the last thing he needed was for jack to see him like this with another person.

despite that, rhudy walked him up to the gates of the park, occasionally looking at aiden like he wanted to say something but never doing so. at the gates, he stopped walking and hesitated. "anti, uh… sorry this didn't go so great. maybe next time we can go get food or something. less risk of injury." he laughed awkwardly, running his fingers through his hair. aiden eyed him suspiciously, wondering if he was mocking him.

"sure, yeah," he said, having no intention of going out with rhudy again. he'd stick with just the guitar lessons, thank you very much.

rhudy brightened, a smile spreading across his face. "cool!" he beamed. he clapped his hands together gently. "sure you don't want me to walk -"

"yes, i'm sure," aiden interrupted and left rhudy at the gate, beginning the walk back himself in silence.

jack wasn't at home.

that wasn't extremely unusual, but usually he left a note or something. aiden wandered through the house uncertainly, making sure there was really no one there, before collapsing to the couch and staring at the wall, thinking about how much of an idiot he was.

"aid-en. wakey wakey, i got you liquorice."

aiden slowly blinked, seeing a pair of bright blue eyes in front of his own. he didn't even remember falling asleep. "mm," he groaned, closing his eyes again. "thanks."

he felt a hand run through his hair, and he unwillingly let out a small, relaxed sigh. "what's up?" jack said softly. aiden heard him sink down next to him on the floor. "how were lessons with - shit, aiden, what happened to your hand?"

oh yeah. he'd forgotten. "fell," he mumbled, not bothering to elaborate. jack cursed silently.

"and you didn't disinfect it or bandage it or anything?" aiden made another sleepy "hmm" as a no. "fuck's sake. stay there, lazy bastard, i'll fix you up."

it was another quiet night for the both of them, although jack did decide to forfeit recording for a little while so as to sit with aiden, chattering and playing music loudly. and despite how his anger had faded to a soft numb burn, jack's presence was nice, and he felt slightly more alive than usual.

it was the next day that aiden noticed.

a new presence. a new electrical item in the house. that wasn't extremely unusual, but usually jack would tell him something like that, obviously knowing that aiden would recognize the change and wonder. the fact that he hadn't mentioned just made aiden more curious, and he followed the signature through the house, somehow unable to locate it exactly until late that night, when jack was recording and aiden found it in his coat pocket. a new phone. aiden hesitated, knowing he should respect jack's privacy like he'd promised and not look - but what was he doing with a whole new phone when he already had a perfectly good one?

one look. just one look. no harm could be done with just one look.

there was nothing on the phone. nothing but a text conversation to a number aiden didn't recognize.

the conversation had been initiated by jack, at two am that morning. aiden would have been asleep by then, he realized with a jolt.

hey, the message said. figured i'd message you.

the number had responded. hey there! i almost didn't think you'd text me.

who the fuck was this? a girlfriend? but why would jack have bought a whole new phone just to text her? heart racing, he kept looking.

course i did. look, i can't say much over text. can we maybe meet up again, same place we met? i want to talk to you again.

hell yeah, dude. tomorrow at twelve work for you? i gotta get the kids from school, so i can't do later than three.

sure. seeya then.

that was how the conversation ended.

ok, aiden thought. so jack was keeping secrets from him. "i can't say much over text" - hmm, wonder why that was. aiden reassembled and slumped against a wall, breathing heavily through his nose.

that fucking bastard. whoever it was he was meeting, it was someone he didn't want aiden seeing. and that was exactly why he was going to follow him and see who it was.

he thought aiden wouldn't notice if he bought a new phone? fucking idiot. it would have been easier to hide if he had just used his normal phone. did he really think aiden was stupid? he clenched his fists, biting his cheek so hard he tasted blood in his mouth. that asshole. that asshole. that fucking asshole.

by the time jack was done recording, aiden was in his room, pretending to be asleep. but in reality, he was already planning exactly what he was going to do the next day, and how he was going to tell jack what he knew.

"i'm going out," jack said, around eleven thirty the next day. aiden was sitting on the couch on his laptop, eating apple slices, and he barely glanced up at jack's words. "got shit to do. what are you gonna do?"

aiden shrugged, holding up a hand while he finished chewing. "can i hack into police records and find wrongly released criminals so i can kill them?" he joked once he'd finished.

jack rolled his eyes, relieved aiden hadn't questioned where he was going. "oh yeah, absolutely," he chuckled. "have fun with that, dude. seeya." the door clicked as he left and walked down the steps, putting up his umbrella to shield himself from the pouring rain.

he felt kind of bad doing this without telling aiden. truth was, he didn't want him to know about chase because he might think he was bad like that hero and magician. but even that… after leaving asda yesterday, jack had gone to the library and done some researching. the hero had been seen several times around the city, his costume constantly changing but always recognizable. he had become known as "jbm," which jack knew was short for "jackieboy man." how no one else knew what the jbm stood for, he didn't know, but what he did know was that this hero didn't seem evil. he had appeared to only do good things from what he had seen, from rescuing that girl at the beginning to saving a kid who was being hurt by his father. jack didn't understand why he'd hurt aiden like that. it didn't seem right.

he didn't want to say aiden was lying. he didn't.

but there was something more to the story that he was definitely missing.

he saw chase standing outside, a small yellow umbrella with a duck's face on it held over his head. seeing him again was strange enough - it was like seeing himself wearing a stranger's clothes - but that umbrella had to be the icing on this very weird cake. he tried to hold back a laugh as he walked up beside him. "hey, there."

chase jumped at his voice, then jumped again at his face. "christ on a bike, you scared me," he laughed, shaking his head. "i haven't gotten used to - you know." he waved his hand round his face, jack humming in agreement. "so, uh… where do you wanna go?"

jack hesitated. "you wanna go get some food? there's some places just over there, i don't mind where we go."

chase grinned. "hell yeah. you have any preferences? i'll eat anything, i don't mind."

"subway?"

"sounds like a plan."

they walked through the parking lot and crossed the street to the various restaurants across from the asda. they politely chatted the whole way there, ignoring the very obvious elephant in the room in favour of discussing chase's umbrella. "it's louise's, my daughter," he clarified with a chuckle. "i think i've lost my own one. i have gotten several strange looks, but hey, that's how it is sometimes." jack laughed, and chase held the door for him to go inside. they each ordered and sat down, preparing to finally talk.

"so," chase eventually said as they finished a casual conversation about chase's kids. "are we gonna talk about the whole… why we look identical thing?"

jack had been hoping to avoid talking about that for a while, mostly because he wasn't sure how to explain the truth without seeming insane. how do you tell someone you think you might have brought them to life? "uh, yeah. i guess. i mean… i don't really know."

"it's not even a funny "haha we look sort of similar" thing," chase said as he unwrapped his bacon and salad sandwich and took a bite. "it's like - we're literally identical. every last detail. down to the shape of, like, our eyes. and our voices are the same, just different accents." he swallowed and then puts on a very convincing irish accent. "i mean, i can do irish too."

"that is weird," jack murmured. he was starting to feel very light. "how - how did you come to be able to do such a good irish accent if you're american?"

"my family moved us to ireland when i was fifteen," he said, waving his hand in a circle. "i learned to impersonate an irish accent to fit in with my classmates, so they didn't make fun of me. dunno how it got so good." he laughed awkwardly, sipping his coke. "so we both have ties to ireland, too? damn, ok, this is getting… very weird. i think that we genuinely might be related."

jack bit into his own sandwich, at a loss for words. "uh, maybe," he said. had he really created a person with a whole backstory that he didn't even write? "yeah. yeah."

chase hesitated. "think we should do, like… a blood test or something?" he winced. "that sounded dumb. i mean, i - i told my wife about this whole thing last night and she didn't believe me, even when my kids backed me up. this is all so weird." he shook his head again and breathed out a laugh. "but, anyway! we can talk about that kinda stuff later. tell me a bit about you, i've talked about myself enough."

jack did so, avoiding all mentions of aiden and his powers, instead talking about his time in ireland and his youtube channel. surprisingly, chase told him he had a channel too. "it's called bro average," he said, picking at his sandwich and not noticing the shock on jack's face. "i do trickshot stuff, lots of athletic shit. it blew up sometime last year, i've got like two million subs. it's wild, dude, seriously!"

bro average… where had he heard those words? he knew them. he'd heard that name. fuck, but he couldn't remember where. and if it was true, this man had only been in existence for a few days. why could he remember a past, how powerful were jack's powers?

the lights flickered. chase barely noticed. jack did. he glanced up, suddenly desperately hoping it was just a coincidence.

"and you've got a gaming channel?" chase said, oblivious. "how many subs does that have? i haven't heard that name before."

"about four million," he said, face reddening as chase cheered in awe.

"holy shit! that's so cool, dude. i'll have to check it out, i'm surprised i haven't seen it." chase stirred his drink. "i think maybe we're just the same person from different lives, ha." he stilled very suddenly. "i'm joking, but also i'm really not."

the lights flickered again, much more forcibly this time. the woman preparing the sandwiches glanced up, confused.

"so… you wouldn't happen to know any other clones, would you?" chase joked, tucking a strand of hair back into his hat. "you don't seem as… surprised as you probably should be about this whole situation."

jack hesitated. "what would you say if i told you i did?"

chase raised his eyebrows and was about to say something else when he paused, looking behind him slowly. "hey, what's that… can you hear that weird buzzing noise?"

"i have to go to the bathroom," jack said immediately, standing up and nearly knocking over his drink. "be back in a sec."

he didn't even give chase time to respond. just stormed into the bathroom at the back of the restaurant and, after checking there was no one else in any of the stalls, stood in the middle of the room. "what the fuck, aiden?"

there was a loud screeching that immediately spiked jack's tinnitus, and he cried out, clamping his hands over his ears. the room sparked with colour and static, and aiden formed in front of jack, face blank.

"jesus shit, dude!" jack yelled. "what the fuck is wrong with you, are you following me?"

aiden tilted his head and crossed his arms. "you bought a whole new phone just to talk to him?" he said flatly. "and you thought i wouldn't notice? seriously? do you take me for a fucking idiot, jack mcloughlin?"

jack sighed. "i didn't -" he threw up his arms, at a loss. "aiden -"

"what were you afraid of, jack?" aiden said, very quietly. his body glitched, and his eyes melted into a solid black. "were you scared i'd be upset? scared i'd do something? scared i'd try to -" he disappeared and suddenly reformed directly in front of him, causing him to yelp and jump back. "- hurt him?"

"aiden, stop it!" jack cried disbelievingly. aiden stepped back, still glitching wildly, an amused smile on his face. "what the fuck's gotten into you?"

"you were keeping him secret." aiden deadpanned. "hiding from me. lying to me."

"because i knew you'd react like this!" jack despaired, and aiden's buzzing glitches quietened for just a second, his smirk slipping. "i knew you'd freak out and get all possessive, like you always do!"

there was no sound but the hum of static for a long moment.

"so that's how you see me, huh?" aiden eventually said. "just possessive."

jack shook his head rapidly. "aiden, fuck's sake, of course not. you're my friend!"

the smirk came back. "am i really?" the glitching suddenly picked up full force, and even the space around him began to bend around aiden. "am i? or am i just your fucking puppet, jack? here to jump when you say jump, just made to keep you from being sad and lonely?" his tone became mocking and childish at the end, and each word felt like a stab to jack's heart.

"aid-aiden, dude, of course not! what the fuck gave you that impression? i love you, you mean the goddamn world to me!"

the glitching suddenly stopped, leaving a deafening silence.

"i'm sure i do," aiden murmured, and disappeared.

jack just stared at the spot where he had been for a moment. then he splashed some water from the sinks on his face, feeling sick with dread and worry. he had never been good with confrontation, and everything aiden had said just felt… painful. the fact that he thought like that made his head spin. was he really that bad of a friend?

the word "puppet" kept echoing in his mind.

he glanced at his reflection in the mirror. he looked tired, bags under his head, hair mussed from the weather. he didn't bother trying to sort it, just left the bathroom and back into the main section of the restaurant.

chase was gone.

panic coursed through jack's body. he raced outside, swinging round the corner, only to see - his heart dropped. aiden, talking to chase as they walked quickly away from the subway.

"chase!" he called, and they both turned round, chase's eyes widening in horror as he realized. aiden broke out in a huge grin as chase jumped away from him, looking back and forth between the two of them.

"what the - what the fuck, what the fuck!" he stammered, stumbling back into a lamppost. "who - what - i don't -"

"oh, keep quiet if you've nothing good to say," aiden jeered, letting his eyes turn black. chase cried out in shock, and aiden laughed in amusement.

"aiden, get the fuck away from him," jack ordered, pushing aiden back. "this isn't a joke, aiden, stop. whatever you're mad about, don't take it out on chase."

"aw, chase!" aiden sang, rapping his knuckles on chase's head. he shrank back, terrified. "you have a name, how sweet! did you call yourself that, or did jack name you?"

"i - i - i don't know what you're talking about!" chase sobbed. his eyes flickered over to jack, who was dithering helplessly at the side, fruitlessly trying to pull aiden away. "please, leave me alone, i have a wife and kids -"

"a wife and kids!" aide crowed. he turned to jack, eyes comically wide. "you hear that, jack? he has a wife and kids!"

"aiden, stop it. come home, we can talk - i'm sorry i tried to hide this from you, ok? please, calm down, just -"

"can we talk about what the fuck is happening?" chase interrupted, looking like he was about to cry. "i don't - i don't understand, i didn't think there was more - clones, more clones, i don't get it!"

"ohhh, you didn't mention me, jack?" aiden said in an exaggerated, mocking tone, pouty lip and all. "your first creation, too?" he cackled. "why am i not surprised?"

jack covered his face, suddenly too overwhelmed to speak as chase continued panicking. "creation? jack, what - what the fuck are you on about? what have - what have you gotten me into?"

"ah. you haven't told him that either." anti turned to chase, who was trembling enormously now. "would you like me to tell you why you look so much like our jack here?"

despite it all, aiden jumped when jack put a hand on his arm. "please," he said quietly, biting his lip. "go home. or go… somewhere. or stay, if you're gonna stop being an asshole. just - stop this. please."

all the fight seemed to go out of aiden at once, and he practically deflated in front of jack's eyes. he glanced at chase, who was breathing very heavily and scrubbing at his face to try and hide the tears leaking from his eyes. he didn't say a word this time. just vanished into the air, buzzing as he disappeared.

jack and chase were left alone.

"chase," jack murmured. chase was trembling badly, shoulders shaking. "i'm sorry, i - i didn't mean - that was a lot, i'm sorry."

"what did he mean," chase said through his tears. "created?"

jack went silent.

"ok… uh," he started. a couple people walked by, and jack realized; how had no one noticed his and anti's fight? a thing to think about later, he supposed. "i… i have these… these weird abilities. aiden thinks that, maybe, it's like soul -"

"no," chase interrupted. he laughed, almost hysterically, stepping off the curb into the parking lot. "no, don't even try that shit. you're - you're insane, you're fucking insane!"

"chase, wait," jack pleaded. he cursed aiden in his mind. "please -"

chase took off running in the other direction, leaving jack standing by himself.

the worst part was, he couldn't blame him, really. he wished he too could run and never come back.

jack was alone all night.

and the next night.

and the night after that.

he spent the fourth night crying, out of despair, out of anger, out of sadness, out of fear. out of everything. he missed his friend so badly, so badly. but he'd ruined everything. it was all his fault. all his fucking fault.

yep, he was a terrible person.

aiden spent four nights away.

he spent those four nights sleeping in people's attics and such, stealing food when no one was looking and using public bathrooms in shops. he could just go home and listen to jack apologize tearfully and put all the blame on himself, which he thought would almost ne worth it - but really, he was too fucking tired. too fucking angry. he wanted to do nothing but sleep and hate himself and feel angry at everyone around him.

surprisingly, he decided to go back to the music store for his next lesson on friday. he was bored and lonely and, quite honestly, desperate for human contact. rhudy's face brightened when he saw him enter the store, and aiden hated the smile that tried to rise to his lips upon seeing him.

"septic!" rhudy cried, and without warning, threw his arms right around him. and fuck, if aiden didn't sob slightly, practically melting into the warmth. it felt fucking fantastic. he hated it. he wanted it to last forever.

"i'm sorry about the beach," rhudy mumbled into his ear. "i can see so much shit, but i didn't see - i didn't know -" he suddenly pulled away. "are you… ok?"

aiden didn't dare say a word in case he somehow burst into tears right then. rhudy took that as a sign to take his shoulder gently and pull him away from the crowd. "come round the back, you're ok, you're ok."

aiden was dimly aware that he didn't even have his guitar with him. he almost laughed at his idiocy.

"sit down. anti, are you ok? talk to me, man." rhudy opened the back room curtains, and aiden winced in the light. "you haven't been home in a while, have you?"

aiden was confused, before remembering - clairvoyance. he sighed. "no. had a fight with my - with my roommate." a shuddering breath. "i'm fine."

rhudy sat down across from him. his black hair curled round his face, stopping just above his shoulders. his brown eyes were filled with worry. "i'm sorry," he mumbled. "the other man i taught guitar to - rory - he's dead. murdered, they said. he was fucking ripped apart, they wouldn't have known it was him if it wasn't his home."

aiden forced a look of surprise onto his face. "oh, shit. rhudy, i'm sorry."

"don't be," he sighed. "it's not your fault."

aiden swallowed and looked down at the floor, nodding.

rhudy tapped his knees. "you've hurt yourself."

aiden snorted, self consciously wrapping his arms around himself. "jesus, you know a bit too much for your own good, don't you think?"

rhudy ignored him, instead gently taking one of aiden's hands and rolling up his sleeve. aiden's breath hitched at the contact, and he felt almost satisfied with how shocked rhudy looked when he saw what aiden had done. "fuck, anti, did you do this to yourself?"

not intentionally, at first. he'd just scraped his arm against the scratchy, uneven floor, then he'd liked the pain and done it again, and again. grounding himself. "why do you call me that?" aiden said, instead of answering his question.

they stared at each other in silence, rhudy still holding aiden's arm. "i don't know," rhudy eventually murmured, evidently not wanting to leave the previous topic be. "it just seemed like… your name. like it was connected to you. if - if you don't like it, i can call you something else?"

aiden considered for a moment. considered a lot of things. then he gently pulled his arm away from rhudy's and smiled up at him, an actual, genuine smile for the first time in about a week. something about that felt right. something about him felt right. suddenly, everything seemed to make sense.

"no," anti said. "i like it. i think i like it."

rhudy smiled back at him, and the world was right again.

#jacksepticeye #boop writes #antisepticeye #chase brody #arc zero: cruthú #rhudy o'donnell

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