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linorachas · 3 years

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for the weekend. | bang chan

⁍ pairing — bang chan x reader ⁍ genre — fluff & smut ⁍ word count — 4.8k words ⁍ details — established relationship, producer!chan, choreographer!reader, lots of cuddles and kissing, oral (m. receiving), dirty talk, d/s undertones, mention of the word “cockslut”, chan worship, you’re both really in love ⁍ a/n — hello! i’m a new writing blog for skz. :D this is my first work here, so i’d love to hear your thoughts. i accept criticism, but please be nice i am trying my best ㅠㅠ part 2 is here! thank you to everyone who let me know that they wanted a part 2! ♥️ ⁍ summary — After a long week of hard work, you finally spend a weekend with Chan.

Friday - 2:03 am

Your footsteps are light and quick as you rush down the hall, duffel bag bumping against your back as it bounces from your movements.

You were sweaty, sticky, and overall about to pass out, but there was a wide grin on your face once you stopped in front of a very familiar studio door.

You had just finished helping create a choreography for an idol group, a whole day of repeating dance moves and drawing positions on papers.

Your out was supposed to be at 7, but you had done overtime with the intent to clear your schedule tomorrow. You would have to do overtime on Monday again, but that didn’t matter right now.

All that matters was the boy behind this door who was working just as hard as you are.

Inside, Chan was hunched over his desk, headphones in, hand cramping as he furiously jots down some notes.

He wasn’t required to stay in, no, he could’ve left hours ago and be asleep right now. But going home without you always bothered him, so he had decided to stay until his girlfriend was finished.

He knew you felt the same, though. You once told him that you would just be tossing and turning in bed if you went home without him. When the tables are turned and he was the one doing the overtime, you would doze on a chair beside him while he worked, or spend some time at the studio yourself.

Chan had checked the time just a few minutes ago, and he knew that you were already on your way here. Unfortunately, he had made the mistake of starting on a new project while waiting, so it would bother him if he left this unfinished while he rested at home.

So now he was cramming, rushing to finish at least a draft.

You, on the other side of the door, didn’t bother with knocking, and just pushed the door open slowly.

Your eyes immediately find your boyfriend’s busy form; Chan’s hair was covered by a reversed snapback, basketball short clad legs tucked Indian style on top of his chair.

You feel a tug on your heartstrings as you watch Chan work hard for the sake of a free day tomorrow, a free day for you two.

You smile at the way Chan taps the pen on the desk to an unfamiliar beat or taps it to the snapback on his head, before going back to writing again.

Chan also does these annoyed puffs of breath every few seconds, something you found to be very endearing ever since the first day you met.

When Chan groans in frustration, you finally walk inside and shut the door behind you, dropping your duffel bag on the floor.

Chan freezes and stops writing when he feels arms wrapping around his neck, but the feeling is immediately gone when his brain registers that it’s his baby.

You press small close mouthed kisses on Chan’s cheek before you nuzzle your head against the crook between Chan’s neck and shoulder, and a smile blooms on Chan’s face.

“Sorry,” Chan mutters, yanking his earphones down when you stop kissing him and pull away. You don’t answer. Instead, you remove Chan’s snapback from his head and card your fingers through his hair gently.

Chan sighs contentedly, eyes slipping shut as he leans his head back on the chair, following the flow of your fingers. He opens his eyes again when you lean down and press a kiss to his lips,

his nose,

and then his forehead.

You grin at him, and despite being in an unflattering upside down angle, Chan thinks you look absolutely gorgeous like this.

Barefaced, happy, and in love.

“It’s okay, Channie,” you finally say, after seconds of just gazing at each other lovingly passes. “I know you’re doing it for our vacation, anyway.”

Chan lets out a small laugh as you fix the cap back on his head. “It’s just two days, baby.”

“Two days of sleeping, eating, and maybe some sex? I don’t know about you, but that sounds like a heavenly vacation to me.” You babble unashamedly, hands sliding down Chan’s torso to massage his pecs— making him squirm and laugh— before you slide them up again to massage his shoulder joints.

Chan sighs as he lets the feeling of your fingers relieving the aches wash over him, but then he catches sight of the mess of papers on his desk, and a frustrated frown replaces his smile.

“Will you wait for me?” Chan asks hopefully. Though deep inside, he kind of already knew the answer.

Still, his heart starts to beat too fast and his stomach fills with too many butterflies when you wrap your arms around his neck again, pressing your cheek against Chan’s own as you mutter, “of course. You know I always will.”

And then you seal the promise with a kiss. Chan pretends he doesn’t chase after your lips when you pull away.

He goes back to work with you still wrapped around him, and after a few moments, you start to shift. Chan’s free hand quickly darts up to your arms that are slowly loosening, so you stay still, alarmed.

“Stay.” Chan mumbles distractedly, eyes darting hurriedly across the papers. It’s selfish, yes, making you stand behind him for God knows how long, but Chan had always worked better when you were this close.

You would have seen the embarrassed blush that dotted across Chan’s cheeks if you weren’t so flustered yourself, hiding your face in Chan’s shoulder blades again when you fail to suppress a wide grin.

So you busy yourself with basking in Chan’s warmth instead, squeezing Chan tight every once in a while just to see him squirm and attempt to glare at you.

Suddenly, all your sore muscles from dancing were gone, and you were content to stand behind your boyfriend for as long as he wanted you to.

When Chan is finally finished and you’ve shut off all the lights, locked the door and gathered all your belongings— Chan throws an arm around your shoulder while you wrap your own arm around your boyfriend’s waist.

You both giggle, talk in stage whispers, and stumble down the corridor like drunken fools despite being completely sober. You hold onto each other like it was your last time to do so, as if you were reassuring yourselves that the other is still there.

For extra measure, Chan presses his lips against your temple, whispering a sweet “I love you, Y/N. So so, so much.” that only the two of you could hear as you go out into the cold night, wrapped in each other’s warmth.

The streetlights look like stars in his eyes, and you ask yourself again how lucky you are to have fallen in love with Bang Chan.

Saturday - 2:54 pm

3:16 am, you and Chan are pressed against each other as you settle into a deep sleep, blankets tucked around your bodies to shield yourselves from the cold.

4:23 am, you accidentally kick the blanket off the bed, leaving the both of you exposed to the cold temperature of the room. You shiver in your sleep.

Chan wakes up long enough to grumble about the blanket and do a half assed search around the room, just to end up pulling you closer to his chest and wrap both his arms around you. It doesn’t do much for Chan himself, but you stop shivering then, so Chan falls back asleep with a smile on his face.

8:44 am, Chan’s phone rings. The ringtone almost rivals Chan’s snores, and the combination of the two sounds force you to wake up, annoyed. Chan was in the middle of the bed, arms and legs splayed out, while you were on top of him, cheek pressed against his chest.

You only have the energy to lift your head up, glare at the sun peeking from behind the curtain and at Chan’s phone, before you drop your head back on Chan’s chest heavily, startling the said boy awake.

Chan stops mid snore and the sound is so funny that you feel a smile tug on your lips, but then his phone rings again.

“Yah, Chan-ah,” you whine, wiggling upwards to bury your face in Chan’s neck. “Make it stop.”

“Sorry babe,” Chan groans, trying to blink the sleep away from his eyes as he cups the back of your head. His free hand reaches for his phone on the nightstand, pressing it to his ear after 3 sad attempts of hitting the answer button.

Your hearing is muffled because of your position and Chan’s hand covering your head, and you only manage to hear a “no, no, we can’t, we’re sleeping in. Sorry Bin,” before you drown out the conversation entirely, the vibrations of Chan’s voice lulling you back to sleep.

Finally, at 2:54 pm, you wake up again, but this time you’re really awake.

Your stomach is grumbling and you’re so hungry it‘s starting to hurt. You try to move, but find yourself unable to because of the limbs restricting from doing so.

This time, one of Chan’s legs is on top of you, covering your lower half entirely. Chan’s head is lying on the pillow, and there’s drool on his chin and it’s gross, so you use the sleeve of your shirt to wipe it quickly. Thankfully he didn’t drool on your hair.

Chan’s holding your other arm to his own chest as if it was a teddy bear, his body curled into your side snugly. When you lean back slightly to take a proper look at him, Chan’s nose twitches like a rabbit and the grip on your arm tightens. You snort.

“Chan. Channie,” you mutter before you bury your face in Chan’s hair, squeezing the sleeping boy in an attempt to wake him up gently.

Chan lets out a grunt, but doesn’t do much to prove he’s really awake. You sigh.

What the hell are you supposed to do now?

It takes you more than a few attempts, but you finally release your arm from Chan’s grip. However, just when you were about to start working on his leg, Chan suddenly slips his own arm under you, turning you over so you end up on top of him again. He does it so easily that it startles you, cheeks burning red at the sudden display of strength.

“It’s our day off, give me one more hour.” Chan grumbles. He was still half asleep so most of his sentence was incoherent, but if anyone was an expert in sleepy Chan language, it was you.

You glance at the wall clock on the other side of the room, grimacing once you realize why you were starving. “Shit. We really wasted the whole day away by sleeping, dude. It’s 3 pm.”

“Stop calling me dude.” He huffs. “And it’s a vacation, Y/N. Let me sleep. Let us sleep.”

You pout when you get your own words thrown back at you, and then it’s as if Chan has a sixth sense for your pouting, because he’s suddenly lifting his head up to press a kiss to your chin, eyes still closed.

You’re guessing he was aiming for your lips, but he was fighting a hard battle between properly kissing you and falling back asleep. It was endearing.

“Love you,” Chan mutters groggily, and was about to drop his head back on the pillow when you stop him with a proper kiss to the lips. It’s a very awkward angle, but you both blush and giggle as if it’s your first kiss.

“Mmmmhm,” Chan pulls away after a few seconds of close mouthed kisses, eyes now blinking open as he frowns at you. “Don’t kiss me. Morning breath.”

You giggle, leaning up on your elbows to take a proper look at him, heart squeezing at the way his lips were pouted. His bed head looked like a bird’s nest and his eyes were swollen. You couldn’t resist pressing another peck to his lips at the sight.

“But I just did.” You grin, cupping Chan’s cheek as you press small, rapid kisses on his face. “Besides, it’s afternoon.”

Chan rolls his eyes, pretending as if he wasn’t chasing your lips with every kiss. And you giggle again, because you were giddy that Chan is finally awake and you were in love with him, and those two don’t really connect, but whatever.

Barely a minute passes before Chan’s eyes start to slip shut again, and it’s only then that you realize you’ve been running your hand through your boyfriend’s hair unconsciously.

“The day’s over, anyway,” Chan places a hand at the back of your head, gently leading you to his neck. He presses a kiss to your forehead then yawns, fingernails scratching your scalp gently to lure you into going back to sleep. “Let’s just stay in bed.”

And you, you were so tempted to say yes, especially with how warm and comfortable you were in the love of your life’s arms, but then your stomach starts to wail like a dying animal, and both you and Chan wince.

“Chan-“

“I heard it.”

You laugh, a loud, refreshing sound that makes Chan’s heart pump wildly, and you feel his lips form into a smile when he presses a kiss to your forehead again, longer this time.

Chan then wraps both of his arms around your waist, turning you both over to the side. Your arms come up to lock around Chan’s neck, and your eyes meet when you look up.

Chan’s eyes were twinkling, and you’re not so sure if it’s because of the light behind you.

“Hello,” Chan says casually, and you make a sound between huffing and laughing.

“Will you at least let me go so I can make breakfast?”

“It’s already afternoon,” Chan half-heartedly reasons, his arms tightening around you as he leans down to press another kiss to your nose.

“Breakfast time is any time. Whoever thinks otherwise should be jailed.”

Chan ignores you, busy pressing a few more pecks to your cheeks, nudging your nose with his own.

You whine. “Come on, baby. You need to eat. I know you’re hungry too.”

And Chan is, but he doesn’t want to leave the bed yet. He’s not pouting, he swears he isn’t, but he knows he’s making a face because you were smiling all amusedly at him again, like you were surprised he was acting this way.

Who could blame him, really? He had a whole day off, a beautiful girl in his arms, and unlimited kisses to give and receive. Why would he leave this warm bubble without a fight?

Chan tightens his grip and rolls again, and you were getting out of breath from laughing and trying to push him away. Your boyfriend pins you down on the bed, holding your hands above your head and intertwining your fingers together.

“Hello,” Chan says again, grinning down at your flushed face.

The sudden displays of strength kept catching you off guard, and your face was reddening for a multitude of reasons.

“Hi,” you reply, albeit breathlessly, and you tilt your head up as a way of asking for a kiss.

Chan leans down slowly, too slowly for your liking, so you groan loudly. Chan laughs but finally presses your lips together, subconsciously loosening his grip on your hands. You free them from his grasp to cup his cheeks.

You can feel Chan smile against your own lips, and you only go as far as nibbling on the other’s bottom lip before you decide something and push him back.

“Y/N,” Chan whines, chasing after you again, but you stop him with a finger to his chest and a quick peck to the lips. He stops, clearly confused.

You push him back further, making him fall onto his side. He seems to catch on when you start straddling him, knees on other sides of his hips.

“Oh.” Chan gapes, eyes blinking up at you stupidly. You laugh.

“Yeah, oh.”

You drag the hem of his shirt up, deliberately scratching your nails against the hard muscles of his abs. Chan groans at that, hips bucking up involuntarily.

As he busies himself with taking his shirt off properly, you start to press open mouthed kisses down his chest, tongue laving against the prominent lines of his stomach. You start sucking near the navel, leaving a big, deep purple hickey that contrasts heavily against his pale white skin.

Chan hadn’t said anything since you started, but he was leaning back on his elbows, dark eyes following your every move. You felt the way his eyes followed the curve of your body as you adjusted to kneeling so you could move further down, making you shiver. It was almost like he was touching you with how intense his stare was. But his hands stayed at his sides, calm and waiting to strike.

You knew that would change soon.

There was already a noticeable bulge by the time you got down to his crotch, making you bite back a smile. You know Chan could feel your amusement because he uses his feet to tickle you at your side, making you laugh.

“Get on with it, pretty.” His tone was playful, but his hooded eyes were saying otherwise.

You listened obediently though, because at the end of the day, all you really wanted was to be good for Chan. All you wanted was to pleasure him, to make him feel good, to let him know that you wanted him to be happy.

And if a mindblowing orgasm from a morning wood blowjob was the way to success… well.

You don’t waste any time in taking off his boxers, desperate to see the cock you loved. It wasn’t a secret that you were a bit of a cockslut, but it was technically Chan’s fault. When he slid his cock in you the first time and made you cum so hard you almost passed out, you were ruined for anybody else ever.

You loved him inside you, loved him pounding so deep into you you felt the head of his cock in your cervix, and also loved him when he took it slow and let you feel every inch— every vein that lined along his fat cock. You loved when you were at his mercy.

But you also loved when you had that same cock in your mouth, filling you all the way to your throat. You were guessing you had a bit of an oral fixation, since sometimes you craved the weight of it at random times of the day. You just wanted his cock in your mouth, and you knew Chan was more than happy to oblige.

Chan’s sizeable cock slapped up against his stomach when you finally took away its confines, precum smearing against his skin. Chan’s fingers tighten against the sheets when you lean forward and kitten-licked that same precum off, his cock bumping against your cheek.

“Baby,” he exhaled, brows furrowing. “Are you playing games right now?”

“No,” you answer, but as soon as the word left your mouth, you flattened your tongue and licked a thick stripe up at the side of his cock, making Chan groan and throw his head back.

You swirl your tongue around the angry purple tip of his cock, letting his precum coat your tongue. But you don’t swallow it, not yet. You let the liquids fall back onto his cock, using it as lubricant for your hand that comes up to stroke him.

Chan grunted, bucking up into the tight space of your hand as his head lolled forward. He watches you with lidded eyes, and you tilt your head so he could feel the hot exhale of your breath on his cock. Predictably, you felt it twitch.

A hand comes to cup the back of your head, and you look up through your lashes to see Chan licking his lips and swallowing.

“Come on,” he urges, hand sliding down to tilt your head up. He slides his thumb into your mouth and your lips close around it immediately, sucking. Chan shudders. “Be good for me.”

And you obey.

As soon as Chan’s thumb slipped out of your mouth, you replaced it with his cock, tongue flattening as you took half of him in your mouth. Your lips stretched obscenely, Chan’s girth and length stretching your mouth to its limits.

But instead of deterring you, it only made you moan. You already felt so full even if you hadn’t taken his entire cock in your mouth yet, almost gagging when you felt the tip nudge the back of your throat. Your eyes flick up, watching as Chan’s jaw tightened, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

You bob your head up and down slowly, understanding that Chan was letting you take the lead. His hand stayed cupped at the back off your head, a reassuring constant as you did your best to breathe through your nose.

The slick sounds your mouth was making echoed along with Chan’s muttered curses in your quiet room, the only other sound being the traffic outside.

“Shit. Shit,” Chan exhaled, chest heaving. He was always much more sensitive in the morning. “Your mouth, baby. That fucking mouth.”

And much more noisier.

“So good for me.” Chan whispers, voice rough and heated. He brushes the back of his hand against your hollowed cheeks, then cards his fingers through your hair so he could see your face properly. “Look at you, my cock in your mouth first thing in the morning. What a sight.”

You moan at his words, and the vibrations that come from your throat make him twitch in your mouth. Chan refrains from bucking his hips, but he slips up sometimes when gets too lost in the pleasure. There’s an apology on his lips every time, but you shut him up quickly with a harsh suck to his throbbing cock.

You know he’s close when the twitching gets more frequent and his thighs start tensing around your head, his hand going from tugging on your hair instead of just resting there. Chan gets quieter as well, his nasty praises trailing off to grunts and broken moans.

Your jaw was aching, but the quiet gasps of your name spurs you on more than you’d like to admit. Because as much as you loved to be under Chan’s mercy, something about him losing his mind over your mouth and saying your name like it was his last prayer did things to you. The slick heat between your legs reminded you of it.

His pleasure was your pleasure.

You’re forcibly pulled off when Chan tugs your head back, and you’re just about to complain when Chan suddenly sits up and grabs his cock with his free hand, keeping the tip of it in your mouth.

“Look at me.” He hisses, and you obey immediately.

You look up at him through your lashes, suckling at the head of his cock as much as he let you. He jerks himself off quickly, using your spit as lube and groaning at the lewd sight of your lips wrapped around him and the feeling of your tongue insistently brushing against the underside of his cock.

“I’m gonna cum, baby, shit-“ he grunts through gritted teeth, and you squirm as you watch his abs and arms flex with each movement.

Chan had his head thrown back now, sweat dripping down his throat and his pale skin reddening as he got closer and closer to his release.

“I’m gonna cum in this pretty mouth. This perfect mouth, only mine to use, hm? Just mine and mine alone, fuck- god, fuck!“

You tug Chan’s hand away and swallow his cock down your mouth again as soon as the first spurt of his cum hits your tongue, making him flinch.

He’s clearly torn between tugging your head away due to the oversensitivity, or pushing his cock farther down your mouth. His hand flexes in your hair, unsure of what to do.

You decide for him.

Your throat works against him, struggling to swallow his cum and keep his cock in your mouth at the same time. You were determined to milk his whole orgasm out of him, and you weren’t going to stop until he was dry and shaking. The moans Chan lets out this time are almost close to whimpers as he falls back against the mattress, hips bucking uselessly.

“Y/N,” he whines, gasping for breath, and you rub your hands up and down his hips to ground him. You clean him up slowly, aware that the oversensitivity must be bordering on pain now.

Chan groans, arms coming up to hide his reddened face. “Baby, enough, please. Come here, come up, I want a kiss. Please.”

You bite back a smile as you pull off his cock, sucking one last hickey to his navel and reveling in his stuttered moan. You crawl up the bed slowly, kissing the exposed part of Chan’s chin; the only area that wasn’t covered by his arms.

“Good?” You ask, sitting on his stomach now.

“Good?” He squawks, disbelief written all over his face when he pulls his arms away. His face was still red, as well as the upper parts of his chest. “Good?! You- god, I can’t believe you. Come here, you little minx.”

He growls, pulling you into a bruising kiss. Your hands come up to cup his cheeks again, moaning as he bit on your lips and sucked on your tongue like a starving man. Chan’s hands grope your breasts through your shirt, thumbing your slowly hardening nipples and making you squirm.

When he pulls away from the kiss and trails his lips down your neck, his hands move lower as well. He hooked his thumbs in your shorts, one second from pulling them down and having his way with you. But-

Speaking of starving.

“Channie,” you whine, stopping his hands. He freezes immediately, pulling back to look at you. Concern was written all over his face, and you would have cooed if you didn’t have more pressing matters at hand.

You frowned. “I’m really hungry.”

Chan gapes at you, stunned. He blinks rapidly, eyes going from your frowning face to his hands by your shorts. “I- are you- do you not want me to return the favor? You just gave me the best orgasm of my life.”

You snort, knowing he was exaggerating, but Chan looked dead serious. You roll your eyes then, locking your lips in a heated kiss again for a few seconds to satiate your needy boyfriend. You keep your forehead pressed together when you pull back slightly to look in his dazed eyes, still filled with want.

You drag the tip of your index finger across his lip, smirking. “I’ll make you a deal. If you put some food in my stomach, I promise I’ll let you fuck me six ways to sunday.” You grind down, making him hiss. “It’s been too long since you made me cry, no?”

Chan’s eyes darkened. You licked your lips.

But then, the next thing you know, the world was upside down, and you were being carried outside your bedroom over your boyfriend’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Bang Chan!” You squeak, heart pounding wildly in your chest. “Put me down, you crazy idiot! What the hell are you doing!”

“Putting some food in your stomach.” Chan replied simply, like that was the answer to all your questions. “No take backs.”

You pause for a second, then find yourself laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Chan was still naked. You smack his ass repeatedly, making him yelp on the way to the kitchen.

“You’re insane.” You laugh as he finally sets you down on the kitchen counter, wrapping your arms around his neck when he squeezes himself in between your thighs.

“You love me.” He giggles, looking too smug for your own liking. But then his face softens, and you blink in surprise when he presses a soft kiss to your lips,

then your nose,

then your forehead,

then your lips again.

“And I love you . More than anything.”

It’s the softest kiss you’ve shared since you woke up, and that was saying something. You look up at Chan, dazed at the sudden switch of mood. He was looking at you tenderly, eyes twinkling as he smiled, dimples popping out.

Your heart pounded in your chest again, beating so hard you felt like it was going to come out of you. You love him. You were so in love with Bang Chan that it hurt, and you wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of your life in his arms, just like this. Always.

“Now,” Chan grinned wide, stepping back as he clapped his hands twice. He was looking very determined, arms crossed and bulging over his chest as he looked around the kitchen.

Your eyes meet, and your breath catches in your throat when he smirks.

“Time to fulfill my part of the deal so we can get on with yours.”

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vampiric-daydreams · 4 years

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Unrequited

Jasper x Reader

Summary: You had been happy to quietly like Jasper from a distance. But when he and the Cullens start acting stranger than usual, you begin wondering if there’s more to it.

Word Count: 2,372

Tags: @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @eggmettcullen @scuzmunkie

A/N: Felt cheeky and wrote something after a year and a half of hiatus that nobody asked for. Sorry not sorry. Might do a part 2?

It had crept up on you. It wasn’t something you wanted.

“I’ll go fir-” you started, as your right hand brushed against your English partner’s. The pen between you rolled off the top of the desk as you jolted from his icy touch. Jasper Hale’s cautious eyes met yours. You suddenly grew conscious of every part of your body and how it might appear to him. Your mouth dried up.

From that touch, those feelings manifested in your fingers; a lingering chill that had lasted for hours. From then, your throat tightened whenever you spoke to him. You stuttered between words, and the mere thought of meeting his honeycomb gaze made you feel sick. Reminiscing that first graze of physical contact and back to your first meeting with him, you accepted that those feelings had always lived within you; dormant and waiting. When hadn’t you liked Jasper?

What drew you to him wasn’t something you could pinpoint, at least nothing that wasn’t shallow. You hardly knew him and you only spoke to each other in English class when you had to. Even then, it was a routine ‘hey, how are you today’ and little more unless you were paired together for a learning task.

“… the dance.” That was all your friends had been talking about and it was still months away.

“I’m asking him to the dance,” Jason was hyping himself up, “I’m just going to do it.”

You had every intention of giving him a slap on the back before he went to lay his heart on the line. But all it took was the sight of Jasper crossing the asphalt with some papers in his hand to make you cease and admire him instead. Sometimes you just wanted to march over to him and confess your feelings.

“Oh shit, that’s not good.”

You snapped out of your lover’s trance and looked at Eric’s face flushed with uncertainty as Jason dropped his head. Rejection. He was biting his lip on his way back to your group. Every time you thought you could be gather courage and tell Jasper how you felt, you saw somebody else receive decline from their own attempt. The world around you gave constant reminders to stay in line. This is what will happen to you if you try to break them up.

“He wants to go with Angela.”

Jason’s obstacle was a cute girl with glasses, and yours was Alice Cullen. Dressed immaculately in designer clothing, Jasper’s girlfriend was not somebody you wanted to rival for his affection. Everything about her was perfect and polished and a clear winner against the likes of anyone who stood beside her. How could he ever look at you, let alone accept you?

However, there didn’t seem to be any sign of Alice today. Or Emmett. Edward and Rosalie were standing by the bottom of the stairs leading up to the school. Jasper descended them, his hands now empty and stuffed in his pockets. As your group comforted Jason, you felt a burning stare on your back; and when you turned around, you met the perturbed frown of Edward Cullen.

Jasper sat beside you. He had joined the class seven minutes late; citing to Mr. Evans that there was a minor family issue. He didn’t greet you as he took his seat; he didn’t pull out any pens or open an exercise book. Something was wrong. An unkind corner of your mind hoped he had broken up with Alice and that was why she wasn’t at school today; or at least that they were having relationship problems. You shook the nasty thought away, not noticing that you had shaken your head until his voice pierced through you. “Are you okay?”

His voice sounded strained, but his expectant gaze pulled at you. Your tongue felt like it had doubled in size. “I… um.”

“Excuse me, is my teaching disrupting your conversation?” Mr. Evans was frowning at you both, and a few classmates snickered.

“We’re sorry, Mr. Evans.” Jasper’s voice was smoother. “I was asking (Y/N) something that I should have saved for later.”

Mr. Evans crossed his arms. “Indeed.”

Both of you were silent. It wasn’t until the bell rang when Jasper started a rare non-essential conversation with you. “What are you doing this weekend?”

Your pulse quickened. Had you somehow intrigued him? You took a shaky breath and focused your energy on not stammering this time. Sound available. “Nothing, why?”

Was he actually going to ask to see you outside of class? You fought to reign in the blush that threatened to give you away. He was smiling. “Oh, the rest of my family are going camping again.”

You hung onto his pause for dear life. It lasted only for a split second, but it was enough time for you to imagine a study date at his place. Sitting side by side, perhaps a little too close, so that your arms would brush. Growing tired of studying and resting your head on his shoulder. Jasper craning his neck lower so his face was close enough to yours that you could feel his breath on your face. A moment of weakness as thoughts of his absent girlfriend slipped away as his lips found yours…

His next sentence cut through you.

“So, Alice and I will have the entire house to ourselves again, which is always a pleasurable time.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him. Was he still smiling? Why did he feel the need to add that second part? Was he bragging to you?

“S-sounds fun for you guys…”

“Yeah! Our house is always so packed so it’ll be nice to have some alone time.”

Why was he suddenly alluding to his physical relationship with Alice? Why was he bothering to talk to you at all?

For the following week, Jasper interacted with you more and more. Yet each interaction left you with a hole in your chest. How could something you had wanted for so long turn out to be so awful?

“Our anniversary is coming up so my parents helped me book a romantic weekend away for Alice and I.”

“Even my sister gave Alice a gift for our anniversary. Our family just love us together. They’re always saying how perfect we are for each other and that they couldn’t imagine us with anyone else.”

“Alice and I are skipping school tomorrow for a date.”

Awkward silences turned into deafening info dumps detailing his adoration for his girlfriend; daily reminders that you had no hope of ever being with him and that his family would hate you for hurting Alice if you did. By the time Monday had rolled back around, your light was fading. Jasper had gone from your secret obsession to the last person you needed to see. You dreaded the last class of the day where he’d force you to listen to more of what you least wanted to hear.

Perhaps it was better this way. Each new insight to his relationship made you want to stay further away. Maybe you liked the idea of Jasper more than Jasper himself. Still, if your disillusion stemmed from his relationship, perhaps you’d be reacquainted with your earlier passion for him. A hard bump on your left arm pulled you away from your thoughts.

“Sorry-” you started apologising to Edward Cullen, who you had collided with. You felt hot under his burning gaze. It was a knowing look, one that was brimming with disapproval. Saying nothing, Edward brushed past you in the direction he came from; other students jumping out of his way as he charged through the crowd.

In the cafeteria, the aura surrounding the Cullen’s table was inconsistent. Throughout lunch, you caught each of them watching you one by one. Rosalie’s hostile eyes sent daggers through you, while Emmett seemed apologetic—but not for his girlfriend’s behaviour. An overwhelming sense of dread washed through your body, making you shudder. Edward’s look hadn’t changed since your exchange in the corridor. His gaze was unsettling. It was as though you were under his microscope and he could see everything about you. Had Jasper caught on to you crush on him and told his family? You found your answer when you locked eyes with Alice, whose devastation was clear on her smooth features. He had definitely figured it out, then. Jasper didn’t look at you once. Alice looked at you the most. Up and down. Left to right. She was frowning, but her forehead didn’t wrinkle, and she suddenly seemed miles away.

“I guess they don’t appreciate the threat of an outsider?” Jason glanced at their table and then back at you. “At least I’m not the only one being sidelined.”

“It’s not like I broadcasted it all over school. How did they even find out?” A well of anxiety formed within you. By the second it grew darker and deeper, blacker and blacker, and you were in danger of slipping in and being consumed by it.

“Do you want an answer?”

“No. Not really.”

And just like that, Jasper’s entire demeanour changed for a second time. His incessant mentions of his girlfriend turned into a bitter distance in which he ignored you entirely. Two more days passed. Your self-worth was diminishing. How could your crush on him be such an insult? Were you so dreadful that he was this repulsed by you?

He was about to walk through the classroom door when you stalked over to him and pushed him back out and to the side of the corridor. His voice interrupted you before you could even speak. “I know you have feelings for me, (Y/N). You don’t have to say anything. But I’m in love with Alice. I love Alice. Not you. I will never leave her for you so you need to accept that and stay away from me.”

“I didn’t mean to fall for you like this. I’m trying to let it go, but none of this gives you the right to be so rude all the time!” Hot tears burned your cheeks as they fell. “I know you won’t leave Alice! I never asked you to! But what is so disgusting about me that is making you treat me like this?”

“It’s not like you’re entirely innocent, (Y/N). If it remained the innocent crush it once was, I could accept it. But fantasising about us cheating behind my girlfriend’s back? Wishing every day that she and I would break up for your benefit? That’s selfish.”

Bile rose in your throat. He was right. There was something worth his repulsion. You should have apologised and promised to leave him alone. You wanted to tell Jasper that you never wanted things to get so out of hand. But you said, “What, so you read minds now?”

His hesitation was brief, but you noticed it. The subtle way his citrine eyes widened as those words left your mouth made you wonder if you had an edge you didn’t recognise. As awful as your thoughts about him and Alice were, how had he known about them? “You still haven’t denied it, (Y/N). Isn’t that what most people who love someone unattainable think?”

“You don’t know a thing about what I think.”

“I know a lot more than you’d expect me to and-” Before you had time to blink, Edward’s hand clapped on Jasper’s shoulder.

“What he means to say is that he—we—don’t appreciate your meddling in his relationship,” said Edward.

You gritted your teeth. “I haven’t meddled! I haven’t said a word! Who do you think you are, with your whole family death-staring me? With all these assumptions about my thoughts and intentions?” Your volume grew louder. People were staring and whispering to each other.

“Regardless of the decisions that have and haven’t been made, I think it would be best for everybody if you and Jasper stayed away from each other from now.” A strange, soothing sensation surrounded you. Your broken, shaky breaths grew steady. You unclenched your jaw and your fists, and you realised that Edward’s suggestion was best for everyone.

“But we sit together in English. Mr. Evans is very fond of his seating chart.” The sharpness had left your voice.

“I’ll change my classes.” Jasper still sounded uncomfortable; he still didn’t look at you.

“Fine.” His dismissal of you caused the embers of your anger to spark and reignite, but it felt like somebody was throwing water on them. You cooled back down.

The first week with an empty space beside you hurt the most. Knowing it wasn’t because of a camping trip, or even a date with his girlfriend; but that he no longer wanted anything to do with you made you feel faint. You would never brush his hand with yours again or feel the lingering touch of his alabaster skin. He would never smile at you, or greet you, or ask about your day—even if it was only to be polite.

But something niggled in the back of your mind, and over time it bothered you more than losing Jasper’s acquaintanceship. How were they so right about my imagination? How did they figure things out so quickly? You had told no one about how you wished Jasper would abandon Alice and leap into your arms instead. It was a huge assumption on which to base that level of animosity and disdain.

Something was definitely off about all this; and if you had to sacrifice even your feelings for Jasper, you at least wanted to figure out how the Cullens were so on the mark. A stupid idea popped into your brain, one that was ridiculous—but you were so worn down that you allowed this concept to spread. What if, somehow, your thoughts weren’t safe?

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nah-she-didnt · 4 years

Text

In The Closet

Well, folks, here it is: my first ever fanfic! Please be kind, I’ve quite literally never written anything that I’ve shared with people before, but feedback is always appreciated! Happy reading! - Nina

CW: anti-LGTBQ slurs, alcohol

Or read on AO3

“My life is over,” Mary whined from her spot in the train compartment.

Lily rolled her eyes. “It’s six weeks on the Welsh coast, it’ll be grand.”

“You don’t understand,” Mary said, sitting up dramatically, “my granny has barely left the house in years. It’ll be six weeks of tea time and the same three stories about the war over and over again.”

Dorcas, who was flipping through a fashion magazine in the seat next to Mary, said absentmindedly “Maybe you’ll meet cute boys at the beach.”

Mary glared at her. “Doubtful, considering the nearest town is miles away, but thank you for filling me with false hope before I’m doomed to the most boring holiday of all time. Now, if there were some spectacular social gathering happening before my social death sentence, that might get me through....”

"No, Mar.”

“Oh come on, you’ll have the house to yourself! Dear old Tuney and your mum are in London ‘til Monday for dress fittings. Please oh please Lily save me from having the most boring summer of all time.”

Lily paused to consider her friend’s plea. It was true, she would have the house to herself for three whole days. Her mother had seemed genuinely sorry that she wouldn’t be at King’s Cross to collect Lily from the school train, but Lily couldn’t help but think that Petunia’s timing was not a coincidence. Lily was sure that Petunia had chosen this weekend to go wedding dress shopping so that she could chose the undoubtedly horrid gown she would walk down the aisle in, get the alterations, and be off back to her fiancee in London, all without Lily’s input or company.

Lily sighed, “Let me think about it. You know I have the nosiest neighbors, we’d surely never get away with it...”

“Oh, we know,” replied Dorcas darkly. “How is dear Snivellus?”

“Don’t call him that,” Lily snapped, albeit with less enthusiasm than she would have used in the past to defend Sev. In fact, with each passing day Lily found she had less and less energy to spend on her former friend.

Dorcas shrugged. “Fine, how do you propose we keep this party secret from dear Severus?”

“Now, surely the words ‘Severus’ and ‘party’ don’t belong in the same sentence.”

At that moment, the door to their compartment slid open to reveal two boys standing in the doorway: James Potter, with his messy black hair and arrogant grin, and Sirius Black, who had somehow already changed out of his school uniform into a black suede jacket and bell bottoms.

Lily grimaced at James, “Funny, I don’t remember inviting you into this conversation, Potter.”

“You should talk more quietly, then,” replied Sirius, mischief dancing behind his eyes, “or else the whole train will hear about this wild party you girls are planning. Go on then, when will this social event of the season take place?”

“Tomorrow night, Lily’s house!” Mary cried, beaming. Her bad mood had clearly lifted as soon as the boys entered their compartment.

“No, absolutely not,” said Lily sternly. “There is no party. Sorry to disappoint you two, but Mary here doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“Now, Lily, be reasonable!” cried Sirius imploringly, grabbing her hand and sinking down to one knee for dramatic effect. “Think of your poor classmates! Have we not spent the last two weeks preparing for our grueling end of year exams?”

“You only studied for exams for two weeks?” said Lily, horrorstruck.

“Yes, and a more boring two weeks I cannot recall in my young life!” Sirius draped the back of his hand across his forehead and fully laid down on the compartment floor. “Please, Lily, if you have any care for my emotional, mental, or social wellbeing, please let me plan a rager tomorrow night in your lovely home.”

“You’ve never been to my home, Sirius,” said Lily, but the corners of her mouth had begun to twitch.

“Well, I’m sure it’s lovely! Let me put it this way, let me throw a bonkers begining-of-the-holiday party in your house tomorrow, and James and I will leave you girls alone for the rest of the train ride.”

“Done!” cried Dorcas, “Off you go, gents.”

“Hang on,” said Lily quickly. Looking around she could see that she was fast losing any hope of finding an ally in the compartment. Finally, her gaze fell on James. “Potter, you know him best, if I let him plan a party in my house can I expect the building to still be standing in the morning?”

James paused, clearly considering Lily’s question. After a beat, he replied “On my honor, Evans, your childhood home will still exist the morning after this absolutely legendary party.”

“Right, that answer doesn’t quite soothe me, Potter. But I suppose...”

“YES!” cried Sirius, who in one fluid movement jumped to his feet and pumped his fist into the air. “Evans, I promise, you won’t be sorry. I’m going to plan the most insane summer kickoff that will make any minimal damage to your property completely worth it.”

“You have got to stop saying stuff like that,” said Lily through the gaps in her fingers, as she had dropped her face into her hands. “I swear to God Sirius, if you make me regret this I will end you.”

“Fair enough. Now, we must be off. Must collect the lads to do some party planning. Do we think three kegs will be enough, or should we go for five just in case?”

“OUT!” shouted Lily, and Sirius scrambled from the compartment, followed closely by James, who paused quickly before leaving to shoot a final grin in Lily’s direction.

“He is so obvious,” said Dorcas in a bored voice as she watched James leave.

“God, I know, he’s going to destroy my whole house, isn’t he” said Lily miserably.

Dorcas shot a bemused look in Lily’s direction, “I wasn’t talking about Sirius.”

Lily stood on the platform at King’s Cross with her school trunk waiting for Mary to collect her things from the train. She felt a pang of sadness in her chest that her mother wasn’t here to collect her for her last summer holiday before graduating from Hogwarts academy. She had been looking forward to a final summer at home with mum before hopefully starting a pre-med program in London next summer after graduation. But, she supposed, Tuney was getting married, and would need her mother’s help in finding a dress. Plus, Lily would get her mum all to herself for eight weeks this summer. No, she shouldn’t worry, and she shouldn’t feel guilty for having a few friends over for an intimate and mature social gathering tomorrow night...

“Hello, uh - are you getting home okay?” said a voice behind her. Lily turned to see a sallow, lanky boy standing just behind her. Severus had grown taller in the last year, but still had the sickly boyish look that he’d had for all the years she’d known him. Lily grimaced. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“Good, good... Are you sure you don’t need a ride? Mother is coming, for once, you know she usually makes me take the train, but I suppose since it’s the last holiday before school ends she felt sentimental.”

“No, Mary’s mum is driving me. They’re in Sheffield, it’s not far.”

“Oh... right. Are you quite sure? It wouldn’t be any trouble. We’re just down the street, you know.” It was clear as he said this that Severus was using a great deal of energy to try and appear aloof, like he couldn’t care less how Lily got home from the station.

“Severus, please leave it. I have a ride, I’m not a damsel in distress that you need to save, I have plenty of people to rely on, so please leave me alone.”

Severus looked angry now, brushing the hair out of his eyes so that he could glare at Lily. “I never said you were a damsel, I just thought--”

“Pardon me, Snivellus,” Sirius said loudly as he pushed past Severus towards Lily. “Evans, I know you seemed touchy about the kegs, so how about just one keg and a few bottles of something stronger, eh? You don’t worry about the guest list, I’ll take care of it, only the best and least responsible Hogwarts students allowed, I promise!”

“Sirius,” said Lily warningly, as Severus was listening to every word he said. “Not now, okay? Do whatever you think is best. Within reason!” she shouted at him, for at her blessing Sirius had grinned mischievously and darted back into the crowd of students on the platform.

“Why is Black asking you about kegs? Are you letting him bring alcohol to your house?” Snape demanded, eyes full of desperation.

“How can what goes on in my house possibly concern you, Snape?” Said Lily harshly. She glanced around Severus to see Mary and her mum waving at her from the other side of the platform. “Looks like my ride is ready. Guess I’ll see you next term,” she said as she hurried away from him. Severus stared at her as she left, an unreadable expression on his face.

“I cannot believe you talked me into this. I cannot believe you talked me into this, Mary.”

“Calm down,” said Dorcas as she applied more mascara, her eyes and mouth comically wide as she stared into the mirror in concentration. The girls were getting dressed for the party in Lily’s bedroom, which would be locked for the party itself. “You’re hardly the first teenager to throw a party when mum’s out of town.”

“Yes, but I’m the first teenager stupid enough to let Sirius Black throw a party when my mum’s out of town!”

“Well, I for one am eternally grateful for the sacrifice you’ve made on behalf of my sanity this summer, Lily,” said Mary, crossing the room to throw her arm across Lily’s shoulders in a one-sided hug. “You’re single handedly saving my will to live.”

Lily shrugged Mary off and glared at her. “Honestly, watch you guilt me into having this stupid party, then have a magical time in Wales with some chiseled sailor that you meet on the very first day.”

“It is a distinct possibility” said Mary with a wicked grin, and she flounced back over to her spot in front of the mirror to continue perfecting her bangs.

Lily dejectedly walked over to her spot between Mary and Dorcas in front of the mirror. She was determined to be in a bad mood for the party, but she couldn’t deny, she and the girls looked hot. Dorcas styled her long braids tied up into two buns on top of her head, added some dramatic eye makeup, and topped off the look with simple silver hoop earrings. Mary had perfected her Linda Ronstadt bangs and dark purple lipstick. And Lily, who had been forced by Mary into a blue eye shadow that she had never dared wear before and a backless halter top (”you can tell I’m not wearing a bra!” “That’s the point, dingus,”) was nearly unrecognizable.

“I’m going to regret this” Lily sighed.

“Save it, Lils. No one’s holding a gun to your head. You need this as much as anyone.”

That was certainly true. Lily had spent the better part of the last five months revising for her exams, and now that they were over she supposed there was nothing wrong with letting off a little steam. She straightened up, looked at herself in the mirror one last time, and determined that she liked what she saw.

Downstairs, the doorbell rang.

“Christ,” Lily mumbled, “that’ll be the goons.”

“Could you get the door, Lil? Mary and I are still preening” said Dorcas distractedly, still glancing in the mirror.

“I suppose I should let them in before they break down the door.” Lily made her way downstairs to the living room and to the front door. She stopped with her hand on the doorknob, let out a breath, planted a smile on her face, and opened the door.

James Potter stood in front of her in a fitted Queen t-shirt, fitted blue jeans, and a dumbstruck expression.

“Erm, hi,” said Lily, not quite sure if James could hear her. James nodded, still looking like he’d been hit very hard over the head. “Hi...” he said, distractedly, then grinned

“Evening, Evans! Holy shit!” Sirius came striding into the living room past James, who still hadn’t moved. “You look ravishing! Like truly, completely hot! How did this happen!”

“Fuck off, Black,” said Lily annoyed. She knew the halter top had been a ridiculous idea.

“No, no, I mean, wow. Come on, Evans, don’t be mad, you know if I liked girls you’d be my number one. Oi, James, close your mouth and bring that Keg in here.”

Lily spun around. Sure enough, James was standing in front of a large keg that he began to wheel into her house on a dolly. Lily groaned inwardly.

“Alright, thank you for supplying the alcohol. Now, as I recall, there are two more of you. Where are Remus and Peter?”

“They’re bringing in the rest of the libations,” Said Sirius proudly, striding over to the front door and calling out “Lads, that’s the wrong door! We’re in here you morons!”

Lily sprinted to the front door and, sure enough, Remus and Peter were now awkwardly stepping over Mrs. Nextdoor’s freshly planted hydrangeas and making their way into her front yard instead. They both held large boxes emitting the sounds of clinking glassware every time the boys moved.

Lily rounded on Sirius. “Black, I swear to god if those boxes are both full of liquor,”

“Now, Evans, who do you think I am? There’s at least one bottle of chaser in there!” said Sirius, who dodged Lily’s attempt to smack him around the head. “It’ll be right as rain, Lily, I give you my word!”

“Just set it up on the kitchen table, okay? And for god’s sake put a towel down!” cried Lily as James wheeled the keg past her and into the kitchen. Remus and Peter entered the living room, panting and struggling to keep a hold on the enormous boxes in their hands.

“Alright, Evans? Where should we put these?” Asked Peter. Peter was shorter than his friends, with a round face and kind eyes. He often gave Lily the impression of an excitable puppy, always bubbly and eager to please.

“The kitchen counter is fine, thanks,” Lily pointed in the general direction of the kitchen, past Sirius struggling to lift the corner of the keg while James stuffed a towel beneath it. Peter grinned and hobbled off to put the boxes down.

“Hey, Lily, thanks for agreeing to host the festivities tonight,” said Remus. Lily liked Remus the best of his friend group. They’d been chemistry partners ever since she’d stopped being friends with Severus. Lily had instantly clicked with Remus because while on the surface he was kind and mild, he could be sarcastic as anything once you got to know him. Lily smiled at Remus, “Of course, though I may live to regret it. I’m glad I have you here to help keep the boys in line.”

“No can do, I’m afraid,” Remus sighed, “I allow myself one night a year to be a reckless teenager, and unfortunately for you I’ve chosen tonight as this year’s night.”

“You’re dead to me,” Lily pouted, but Remus laughed and slung his arm around her. “Come on, let’s get you a drink. It’s going to be a great night, I promise!”

The air was suddenly filled with the sound of shattering glass and the overwhelming smell of vodka. “Uh, Lily love,” said Sirius’ voice from the kitchen, “where might we find some paper towels?”

Lily glared at Remus, who shrugged, adding “I’ll get you that drink now, shall I?”

Remus was right, the party was going off without a hitch, not including the broken handle of vodka at the beginning of the night. What seemed like half their year at Hogwarts was present. Lily had consumed approximately two and a half beers -- no, on second thought, a whole three beers, she conceded as she chugged the rest of her drink -- and had forgotten all about her hostess anxieties. The music was loud, the keg was half full, and she was basking in the glow of gratitude from her fellow students who were happy to have a reason to celebrate the end of the year. She was even slapped on the back by last year’s soccer captain, Benjy Fenwick, which caused Mary to go into such a fit of giggles that she had to leave the room.

Remus, much to Sirius’ chagrin, had been put in charge of the music. This proved to be a poor decision on Lily’s part. The house seemed full of nervous energy as her classmates, who were fast becoming more and more intoxicated, grumbled that they could not dance to the slow, melodic rock coming from the speakers.

Sirius was growing more and more antsy at Remus’ music selections. "Moony I am begging you to think about the group at large before you play any more Neil Young.”

“Neil Young is a god!”

“Yes, but this album is damn depressing! Put on something I can dance to!”

“This song is hauntingly beautiful, and anyone who can’t appreciate that shouldn’t be here in the first place.”

“Moony, put on some dancing music, and I promise you I’ll make you glad you did,” Sirius said suggestively, pulling Remus closer to him. Remus grinned and leaned into to Sirius, who grabbed him tight around the torso and yelled “Peter, now!” Swift as can be, Peter swooped in and switched out the Neil Young for an ABBA record, causing the room at large to cheer in celebration.

“Traitor!” yelled Remus, though he was laughing. “ABBA is an insult to my DJ title.”

“ABBA is fun and you know it,” said Sirius, grabbing Remus’ hand and pulling him onto the dance floor. Lily smiled as she watched them dance. Sirius and Remus had caused a minor scandal the previous year when they had gone from best mates to an official couple. Not that their new relationship had surprised anyone who really knew them. Lily had been waiting for Remus to tell her he loved Sirius ever since they became chemistry partners. As she watched them dance, Lily felt a warm presence next to her and looked up.

“Fancy seeing you here,” said Potter, also watching Sirius and Remus dance.

Lily smiled, gesturing to the dancing couple. “Is it weird for you, navigating a friendship with both of them when they’re so bonkers for each other?”

“Nah, it’s not bad. We’ve all been through a lot, it was easy to figure out the group’s dynamics once they changed. Anyway, they’ve never been subtle about fancying each other, so when they got together the only thing that changed was the label.”

“I suppose that’s true,” said Lily. It was odd to speak so honestly with James. Usually James was so arrogant, walking around the school as if he owned the place. James was popular, good looking (she supposed), and well-known by all. He and his friends were also known as charming trouble makers, and could get away with even the most egregious pranks. It annoyed Lily to no end.

About a year ago, James had taken notice of Lily’s negative attitude towards himself and seemed to make it his personal mission to charm her as he had the rest of her classmates. Their encounters usually consisted of flirtatious sparring from him and cool indifference from her, which only encouraged his competitive nature. It worked, sometimes, but Lily was usually determined not to let him win, for Lily suspected she was even more competitive than James when it came to being right.

“It’s nice talking to you like this, Potter,” said Lily, emboldened by the three and a half beers she had now imbibed, “you’re far more pleasant when you aren’t trying to flirt with me.”

“What do you mean, ‘trying’? I think I’m pretty successful at flirting with you,” said Potter. God, his stupid handsome -- NO, not handsome, passable -- face wore the most infuriatingly smug expression. Lily quickly reversed course, settling back into her Defensive Potter Mode.

“No, actually, you’re not. In fact, you’re usually nothing more than an arrogant toerag, in my humble opinion,” she said matter of factly.

Alright, that might have been too far. Why had she had so much to drink?

They stood in silence for a moment, the smug look on James’ face shifting into one of sour disappointment. He shrugged, “You’re right. I’m sorry Evans, enjoy the party,” and he disappeared into the crowd.

“Christ,” Lily mumbled to herself, rubbing her eye with the hand not clutched around her drink. Potter really was infuriating. He could antagonize her to no end, but the moment she got to him herself, she felt this wave of crushing guilt. No matter. The night was young, and she’d almost finished her fourth beer. Lily sighed, and went into the crowd to find Mary and Dorcas.

The party had certainly reached a new peak. More people had started to turn up, including students from the years above and below James, and people he had never seen in his life. The keg was nearly empty, the music blared, and couples had started disappearing into the upper level of the house. James, however, was not in much of a party mood.

“Cheer up, mate,” slurred Sirius as he dropped into the empty seat next to James on the couch, “ignore Evans, find yourself another nice bird.”

“Don’t want another bird, and I’m not hung up on Evans, thank you very much,” said James stubbornly. Sirius rolled his eyes. “Sure you’re not. Alright, what about her then? She’s got nice...hair? Andy big, thick -- uh -- knockers, and looks like she’s got two eyes, and-”

“You have no idea at all what to see in women, do you?” laughed James. Sirius had about as much interest in girls as James had in Snivellus.

“Haven’t the foggiest idea, but I’m sure someone here could pique your interest.”

“Well, that’s a nice thought, but I--”

At that moment, a girl in the crowd towards the front of the house yelled at the top of her lungs, “COPS!”

It was chaos. Dozens of drunk, crazed teenagers started to run towards the back door, knocking into and running each other over in the process. Sirius and James jumped to their feet, scanning the crowd for Remus and Peter. Peter was nowhere to be seen, but Remus sprinted over to where they stood, grabbing Sirius’ hand.

“We have to go, now,” said Remus. Sirius paused, looking guilty. “I should stay, this was my idea, I don’t want Lily to take the fall for this,” he said, though he looked nervously at the front of the house where the policemen certainly stood behind the door. James, knowing exactly what Sirius was afraid of, clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“No, Sirius, you and Remus go. Find somewhere to cool it for a while. I’ll meet you later.”

“James, I know you’re obsessed with Lily, but you can’t honestly say you want to stay,” said a shocked Remus.

“This isn’t about Lily. I’ll stay behind to help people get out, then I’ll hide somewhere. Go, now!” said James, pushing his friends towards the back door. With a final uncertain look, the two disappeared in the escaping crowd.

James looked around to see what could be done. Most of the partygoers had escaped out the back, so James turned off the living room lights just as a loud knock sounded at the front door. James froze, listening intently to what was happening behind the front door.

“Open up in there!” shouted a scary sounding voice, and James bolted.

He ran to the back door, locked it, and bolted up the stairs. He had absolutely no idea where he was going, but he knew he had to get as far away from the front door as possible. He rounded a corner, then another, into a dark bedroom. He paused, looking around to get his bearings, and then he saw it. He dived head first into the closet, when--

“OUCH! Who is that?!” said a scared, and annoyed, voice.

“Shhh, it’s James Potter, keep it down though, there’s cops downstairs.

“James, it’s me, Lily, and I know there are cops downstairs. Why else would I be hiding in my closet?”

“I don’t know, Evans, how many more people did you insult tonight? Maybe you’re hiding from them,” said James grumpily.

There was a moment of silence. James stared into the oppressive darkness at what he assumed was Lily’s dark form.

“What’s happening downstairs? When everyone started to run I knew I couldn’t leave, it’s my house, so I came up here.”

“Yeah, that was smart. I locked the back door and I think everyone is out, but it might be smart to hide up here for a bit ‘til they go away.”

“Right, okay.” Lily let out a long breath she had clearly been holding in since arriving in the closet. The two sat in silence for several long moments, then Lily spoke.

“James?”

“Mhm?”

“I’m sorry for what I said about you. You’re not an obnoxious douchebag.”

“Actually, it was arrogant toerag, but continue,” said James, with just a hint of his usual flirtatiousness. Silently, he cursed himself for never being able to be mad at Lily.

“Right, that. Well, as I said, I am sorry. It’s just you can make me so angry sometimes. More mad than anyone else I know.”

“So you’re saying I evoke strong emotions in you?” laughed James, “I suppose I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“I’m not sure you should,” replied Lily, but her voice sounded much friendlier this time. James regretted not leaving the closet ajar so that he could see her face in the light of the street lamps outside her window.

“Too late, you said something nice about me! I’m counting it as a victory.”

Lily scoffed. “Speaking of victories, I notice Sirius is not the one sitting in the dark with me. I’m glad that he got to have a fun night of partying then ditch as soon as things got dicey.”

“It wasn’t like that!” said James, suddenly defensive. “He was going to stay but I told him to leave with Remus, and that I would help get people out of the house. I didn’t like the idea of he and Remus around the cops. He was reluctant at first but he caved eventually.”

Silence again. James was starting to enjoy this newfound ability to stump Lily Evans. “Oh... thank you, Potter. I appreciate your help, truly. Why don’t you want Sirius and Remus around cops?”

This time it was James’ turn for silence. After a pause, he said quietly, “one time, last summer holiday, the four of us were leaving the cinema after dark. We’d snuck in a flask of whiskey and passed it back and forth the whole time, so we were all a little drunk when the film ended. It was before, you know, Sirius and Remus were properly together, but they were tipsy and being really playful with each other. When we got outside they ran down the street ahead of us and were flirting a bunch, being touchy, you know. Anyway, they’d gotten a bit ahead of us down the block, and these two skinheads tried to corner them. Started calling them queers, faggots, pushing them about, you get it. Peter and I ran up, and at that point the blokes knew they were outnumbered and bolted. But the whole thing was really scary. Remus said he couldn’t sleep for a week.”

James paused his story to rub his eyes at the horrible memory. He’d forgotten just how bad that night had been. “Anyway, I was walking to the store a few days after this, and I saw a cop walking down the street swinging a baton like a cartoon character. It was one of the skinheads. I recognized him from that night, he must have been off duty. This fucking prick spent his night off harassing a couple of kids who weren’t hurting anyone at all. If one of them is like that, I don’t want to know what the rest of them are like.”

James expected to sit in silence with Lily for a few more moments, but this time she broke the silence quickly.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For looking after them tonight. That was really... well, it was really brave, James.”

James’ heart soared. She called him brave. He tried desperately to ignore his delight, and instead answered nonchalantly. “They would do the same for me. Not that I’m in the same situation, or that I have as much to worry about with cops, or, well, you know. They look out for me, I look out for them. I love them, and that’s what you do for people you love.”

“Yes,” breathed Lily, “you’re right, that’s--”

They both froze. They could hear from the hallway the unmistakable sounds of large feet in boots climbing the stairs to the second floor. “Maybe they won’t know we’re here,” James whispered as quietly as he could.

Lily gulped, and covered her own mouth to quiet her breathing. James waited with baited breath. Suddenly, a light flipped on in the room, and someone wrenched open the doors to the closet.

“Oi, you two, what do you think you’re doing in there?” yelled a large, bald policeman.

James froze, eyes wide, trying his best to look both sober and innocent. “We’re, uh, we’re just, um--”

“We’re having a fight,” said Lily confidently. James looked quickly at her, properly seeing her for the first time since entering the closet. Her hair was a mess, her eye makeup was smudged, and her expression was set. She glared up at the policeman, who regarded her confident tone with surprise.

“Is that right?” said the policeman, regaining his composure and glaring down at Lily. Lily straightened, looking more determined than ever. “Yes. Arnold here broke up with me two days ago, so we came in here to fight. We didn’t want anyone else to know, you see. We’ve been up here for quite a while, so we haven’t the foggiest idea of what’s been going on downstairs.”

“I bet you haven’t,” said the cop nastily. “I’ll have you know, miss, that there were a great number of minors drinking alcohol on the premises tonight. We had a tip off that someone in the neighborhood was hosting an underage party, and it wasn’t hard to figure out which house was the problem. Your front lawn is a right mess, you see.”

Lily frowned. “I don’t have any knowledge of any drinking on this property. Do you have anyone in custody?”

“No, but,”

“And how did you get inside? If there’s no one else downstairs, I can’t see how anyone could have let you in.”

“The tip off said there was a spare key for emergencies. If there was underage drinking happening, we had clear cause to enter the property.”

“Well, we’ll see about that, but for now, it looks like there’s nothing more for you all to do, is there? It’s a classic case of habeas corpus. And if you don’t have the corpus, you know what they say, ‘no body, no crime,’“ said Lily sweetly. The cop looked at Lily for a moment, clearly dumbfounded. James had never been so enamored with another human being in his young life as he was in this moment.

“Look, miss, do you live here or not?” said the cop.

“No, I don’t,” lied Lily.

“Well, tell whoever does live here that we’ll come round to inquire in the next few days, so they better have everything back in order before we do.” And with that ominous announcement, the cop left the room.

James and Lily sat in dead silence for a few minutes as they heard the cop collecting his buddy from the kitchen and leaving through the front door, closing it behind them.

James and Lily looked at one another, then at the exact same time, leapt up and sprinted to the front door. James got there first, locking it quickly, then turned to lean his back up against the door, panting.

“That - was - so - close,” he wheezed, sliding down the door to sit on the ground. Lily nodded, clutching a stitch in her side, then turned on the table lamp to inspect her living room.

The room was positively trashed. Empty plastic cups with sticky dried beer littered the floor, the remnants of a drinking game lay strewn about her mother’s antique sitting room table, and something that smelled suspiciously like vomit was wafting over from one of the large potted plants in the corner.

“James, you need to find a new best friend, because I am going to destroy Sirius Black,” said Lily, covering her face with her hands and sinking onto the couch.

“I wouldn’t blame you. Hey, how did you come up with that ‘Harper’s corpse’ thing so quickly?” asked James.

“It’s habeas corpus, and I watch a lot of American legal programs,” said Lily proudly, “I have no idea if any of that is right. That cop must have been a bit thick, or I don’t think he would have bought it. Anyway, I’d be surprised if he came back to check up on the place, he probably just said that to scare us a bit. Still, I really should start to clean this mess up...”

“I’ll help!” said James gallantly, springing to his feet. Lily eyed him suspiciously, but James just waved his hand casually, “Evans, I’m not leaving you to this mess. I helped destroy your home, at least let me help set it right again.”

“Fair enough. Blimey, where do we even start? Wait, do you hear that?”

James and Lily looked around. There was a slight tap tap tap coming from the direction of the kitchen. Lily walked quickly into the other room and saw three noses pressed up against the window panes on her backdoor; Sirius, Remus, and Peter. Lily shook her head and opened the door. “Well well well, look who decided to show up,”

“Great party Evans! Are the coppers gone?” Sirius looked anxiously through the door into the house.

“Yes, but please, get inside before anyone sees you in the yard. The last thing we need is for my neighbors to see you out there.

The boys fell over the landing and into the kitchen. Lily could tell based on their poor coordination that they had not had the same sobering experience that she had that evening.

“Right, you lot,” Lily said, pointing at Sirius and Peter, “follow me, I’m going to watch you clean the sick out of my mother’s ficus.” Sirius and Peter started to groan, but at a murderous look from Lily, the followed her dutifully into the living room.

“Sorry about that, mate. Did they give you much trouble?” Remus asked anxiously, surveying the disgusting state of the kitchen and dining room.

“Surprisingly, no. Lily made up this incredible story for the cops about us fighting in her closet, and--”

“Hang on,” Remus said, frowning, “what about a closet?”

“Oh, right. Well, when you two left, I stayed downstairs to make sure everyone got out, then I locked the back door and sprinted upstairs. I ran into the first room I saw a closet, and when I went in there to hide Lily was already in there.”

“Lily in the closet? Sounds like Sirius in fifth year.”

“My thought exactly. Anyway, We hid up there for a bit, then this big cop came in and found us, but she told him we were in there fighting and didn’t even know there was a party going on downstairs. As there was no one left in the house, he just told us to clean up and left. Mad, eh?”

“Completely,” agreed Remus, “how did he get in the house in the first place?”

James frowned slightly. He tried to remember what the cop had said about entering the house, but couldn’t. “I have no idea. The front door must have been open after all.”

“Wild,” said Remus, who had already picked up half the abandoned cups that littered the kitchen. “Lucky she had a story ready for him.”

“Yeah, lucky,” replied James absentmindedly, “she was incredible, really.”

“I bet she was,” Remus snickered.

“Shut it, not like that. She was just so calm and collected, you know? I was shitting myself.”

“Well, we all made it out in one piece. Especially Pete, the prat. We ran into him about a block away from the house, said he was the first one out the door when the cops came.”

“Of course he was,” James said darkly. Pete had an exceptional knack for being in the right place at the right time.

At that moment, Peter walked through the doorway from the hall into the kitchen, looking a bit green. “Puke’s cleaned up. I don’t know what that poor soul had for dinner, but whatever it was, it was definitely not something you should eat before drinking.”

“Thanks for the visual, mate.”

“How’d you lot get out of getting arrested anyway?” asked Pete, who was now helping James wipe down the kitchen counter.

“Lily and I were in the closet, and--”

“Huh, just like Sirius in fifth year,”

“That’s what I said!”

“And Lily made up this brilliant story that got them to leave. Honestly, she was so convincing I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to trust her again.”

“I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” Peter smirked. Remus laughed again.

James eyed them both. “For your information, I think it was a bonding moment! She surely can’t hate me anymore after we went through all that together.”

“Yes, hiding in a closet together can do wonders for a relationship,” said Remus wisely, “believe me, I would know.”

“What’s this about being in a closet?”

Sirius and Lily entered the room, Lily holding a mop and bucket and Sirius holding a garbage bag out away from his body like it was a bomb.

Remus took the garbage bag from Sirius, put it in the trash can, and kissed him on the cheek.

“Never you mind. Let’s say we get some water for that bucket and tackle the living room. Pete, could you take the trash out front?”

“Oh no you don’t,” Lily replied, snatching the trash from Remus’ hands, “I’m not letting any more of my neighbors see you lot in my front yard. You can help me clean up then sleep here tonight, if you want, it’s far too late for you to hitch home or whatever it is that you planned on doing.”

“Sounds good to me, I make an excellent omelette!” Sirius proclaimed, then followed Remus into the living room with the mop and bucket. Lily grinned at James, who smiled softly back at her, then took the garbage bag through the living room and out the front door.

She walked across the front threshold into the warm night air, letting herself revel in the quiet of her suburban street at midnight. She stood for a moment taking in large gulps of night air before walking over to the bins and depositing the trash inside. When she was done she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She whirled around and found herself face to face with Severus.

“Lily, are you alright? I saw police and I was worried, I came to see if you were okay,” said Severus quickly. He was looking past her to the front of her house. Lily could see that Remus and Sirius were visible through the front window, mopping the floor and laughing as they worked. Lily looked back at Severus to see that his eyes had narrowed as he watched them.

“It’s none of your business, Snape.” Lily said stiffly, crossing her arms against her chest. She was still very aware that she was wearing Mary’s loose fitting halter top.

Severus looked taken aback at her use of his surname. “Lily, I’m sorry, I just--”

“Thought you’d call the cops on my party? Thought you’d tell the cops about the spare key we keep in the planter next to the door?”

Severus appeared dumbfounded. “I don’t know what they told you, but it wasn’t -- I didn’t -- I was worried that they would destroy your house!”

“You know what, Snape,” she was becoming more angry by the minute, “butt out of my life, alright? I’m telling you once and for all to leave me alone. I don’t need your assistance or your protection, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Plus, I have friends to look out for me,” and she gestured towards the front window where Sirius had completely forgotten about mopping and was instead trying to convince Remus to waltz with him.

Severus stared at the window. “You can’t possibly mean them. They don’t have your best interest at heart!”

“They look out for me, I look out for them. That’s what you do for your real friends, Snape.” And with that, Lily turned on her heel and marched back into the house.

“I said it last night and I’ll say it again, excellent party last night, Evans,” Sirius exclaimed, raising his glass of vodka and tomato juice (”the poor man’s hangover cure!” he insisted earlier that morning), “to Evans!”

“Evans!” shouted the boys, Mary, and Dorcas, who had arrived last night shortly after Lily’s confrontation with Severus. They had hidden in playground equipment for half an hour before daring to make their way back to the house. They had all spent the night cleaning the house, then passed out on blankets and pillows in the living room. That morning they had woken up to feast on bacon sandwiches and coffee. Sirius had been too hung over to follow through on his promise of omelettes.

“Thank you, thank you, you are all too kind,” Lily laughed. “And, I suppose, I must show a small amount of gratitude towards Sirius for forcing me to have the party in the first place.”

“I think force is a bit strong. You certainly didn’t need much convincing. I think we all needed a bit of a laugh.”

“Easy for you to say, you weren’t cowering in a closet from a big beefy copper, were you?” grumbled James, though his eyes were bright with amusement.

“True enough. Your heroics will go down in Hogwarts legend, my friends,” said Sirius, clapping James on the back.

Peter checked his watch. “We best be off lads, before our mums realize that we all lied about sleeping over at each other’s houses.”

The boys began to collect their belongings, said their goodbyes to Lily, Mary, and Dorcas, then trudged out the door to catch the bus in town. Lily rose to see them out, but James hung back behind his friends.

“Hey, thanks again for saving my ass last night. You really are brilliant, you know.”

“Yes, I do know, thank you,” Lily said cheekily, giving James a playful punch on the arm.

“Look, I’d say we’ve been through a lot now, how about we try and be, I dunno... friends?”

Lily considered this for a moment. He wasn’t so bad after all, James. He’d risked his neck to protect his friends, and he’d stayed up all night helping her clean the house.

Finally, Lily stuck her hand out, “Friends.”

James’ face broke into a broad smile as he took her hand and shook. “Blimey, did you ever think you’d see the day?”

“Never,” Lily winked at him. “You best catch up with your mates.”

“Ah, yes, they’ll leave me behind if I don’t run, they’ve done it before. Have a good summer, Evans,” and with that, he turned and ran after his friends.

Lily fondly watched the boys meander down the street. Had she really been wrong about James Potter? She shook her head, shot one last glance towards the mess of black hair on the back of his head, then stepped back into her spotless home.

#jily #muggle au #first fic #nina writes #wolfstar #hp fanfic #marauders #marauders fanfic #anti snape #snape can huff my farts #please be kind this is my first ever fic #jily fanfic #CW: alcohol #CW: homophobia #long post

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onedayiwillflyfree · 5 years

Text

When the Sun Begins to Fall

Hello everyone, the first chapter of my first AWAE fic is now up on AO3! I am very excited to share it all with you(: special thanks @royalcordelia for being an absolute gem and editing it for me! Enjoy!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21255530/chapters/50608787

Chapter One

“...And that things are not so ill with you and me as they might h-have been, is half owing to the number who li-lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in un- unvisited tombs."

“Wonderful job Emily, much improved.” Anne Shirley rested her hand on the young girls shoulder, squeezing it in reassurance. Emily smiled and handed the beloved Miss Shirley back her copy of Middlemarch before making her way back to her seat. Anne decided to do the same, feeling slightly drained after having a cold the last few days. She detested sitting during class, but occasionally she felt the need to make an exception.

Behind her desk, she folded her hands and stared at the twenty children sitting before her.

“Now class, I know you are all anxious to go about your weekend, but...” She paused for a moment to let out a chesty cough into her sleeve. “Excuse me. But I would like for all of you to practice your texts for at least an hour each day, and then write a small paragraph about what you have read to be turned in on Monday.”

Groans erupted from her students as she felt another cough rising in her throat. She understood their frustration, as she was ready to go home herself. Over the last couple of days, she had been finding it harder and harder to make herself rise from her bed in the morning. Every muscle in her body seemed to be working against her and the pains she had in her lungs have made enjoying the morning walks impossible. She coughed into her handkerchief, managing to clear her throat enough to talk, “Now now, I understand your frustrations, however, think of all the wonderful places you can travel within,” she coughed once more, this time harder. She could not seem to get the phlegm out of her throat and it was most aggravating.

After one additional cough, phlegm loosened and made its way up. She looked down and what she thought would be a ball of gunk, was actually a tiny red dot. For a moment, the dot gave her pause but she was soon brought back when a student cleared their throat. Shoving the rag in her apron, she smiled up at her students. “Ah, yes, sorry. I believe I am getting a cold. Class, you are free to go, enjoy the world around you.”

Without hesitation, everyone began bustling about the room, gathering their items and talking about their weekend plans. Anne observed for a moment before she turned on her heels, heading to her office. Shutting the door behind her, she pulled handkerchief out of her pocket and brushed her fingers against the dot. Blood?

“No,” she whispered, “perhaps it's something I ate.” Although she said it with surety, she wasn’t convinced. Ever since she was young she has had an overactive imagination and the places her mind were going right now were plenty. None of them were good either.

A knuckle tapped against the door causing Anne to jump and drop the rag. “Come in,” she yelled as she bent down to grab it. She must have stood up too quickly because instantly the room was spinning and she felt as if she could faint. Bracing herself against her desk as she tried to regain her composure, the door opened to reveal Minnie May Barry, who over the last few years, she had truly grown into a beautiful young lady. Her mouse brown hair fell in gentle ringlets and her doe brown eyes sparkled even on the darkest day, the only girl who could possibly be prettier than her in Avonlea would be Diana. When Anne was a girl, should would have given anything to look like either of the Barry girls.

“Anne?”

“Minnie May, I’m Miss Shirley during school,” Anne mumbled as she rubbed her forehead.The room was still dancing around her, causing her to use extra effort just to focus on standing upright. She felt that if she didn’t sit immediately, she would surely faint.

“Well schools not in session now, so you’re Anne,” Minnie May retorted. Normally Anne would scold her, telling her to stop acting smart with her but she couldn’t find the energy. She pulled out her desk chair and attempted to sit gracefully but somehow she missed the chair and landed on the floor with a plop. Minnie May raced towards her and grabbed her arm, attempting to pull her up. “Are you alright, Anne!?”

Embarrassed, Anne accepted her help and pulled herself up into the chair. “Oh yes, I am fine. Just a little dizzy is all. I must have accidently laced my corset to tightly this morning.” Minnie May did look assured so Anne plastered the best smile she could muster. “What did you need, dear?”

Minnie May hesitated for a brief moment before she spoke. “Diana is coming home tomorrow from Paris. Mama wanted me to ask if you were still bringing your famous apple pie.”

Anne silently cursed herself for feeling ill. Oh, why this weekend of all weekends? The one I am supposed to reunite with my bosom friend after she has been away for so long. Of all the unlucky things in my life, this is the worst so far. “Of course I will be there,” she managed utter before she went into a fit of rough, dry coughs. Somehow this fit felt worse than before, it made her head pound. She looked in her tea pot hoping she had a little left but was left feeling disappointed to find it empty. Minnie May, understanding what was needed, pulled a jar of milk out of her lunch pail, gesturing it towards her. Grateful, Anne took the jar and poured it into her cup. In between coughs, she sipped slowly as Minnie May looked on. It felt cool on her throat and her coughing began to cease.“Thank you.”

Minnie May nodded, concern crossing her face as she took the jar back from Anne. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Oh yes, just a cold. A good night of rest and I will be right as rain in the morning.” Anne smiled brightly taking her young friend’s hand within her own. “Now run along and let your mother know that of course I am bringing my pie, and I am anxiously awaiting tea time.” A smile danced on Minnie May’s lips as she turned and skipped out towards the front of the room, where she had a large group of friends awaiting her arrival. Anne looked on, letting her smile fall into a gaze of nostalgia. How she missed walking home with Diana after classes, seeing her bosom friend daily and recanting stories of adventure and wonder.

She turned towards her desk,momentarily forgetting the sharp pain in her temples and pulled out the half heart locket that she shared with Diana. The locket now shared the chain with a small silver key that looks as if it came straight from a fairy tale. Her hand reached to the top of her desk, where a locked drawer held her greatest treasures. Slowly she unlocked the drawer and began pulling out each item carefully. On top, lay Matthew’s “Most Unusual” ribbon from the county fair mere months before he passed. She held it close for a moment, thinking how proud he was of that radish and how they ate the entire vegetable over the course of the following week. She chuckled, she hasn’t been able to stomach radish ever since. A cough escaped her lips as she pulled out the blue ribbon Diana had worn almost everyday of their friendship. She had been bestowed it not long before Di had left for Paris, asking her to always keep it close. She decided she would bring it tomorrow for tea, to show she had indeed kept her promise.

Next she pulled her copy of Jane Eyre given to her by Aunt Josephine for her sixteenth birthday. Inside of that held the portrait that Cole had penned of her so many years ago, along with flowers she had pressed from various occasions. A carnation from Matthews funeral, a daisy from Mary’s garden, dandelions from the first flower crown Dellie had made for her, and a wildflower picked by Gilbert while they walked the White Way of Delight after receiving their scores from the Queen's entrance exam.

At the thought of the curly haired friend she had cared for so deeply, the pain in her chest worsened. She scolded herself. Push away those thoughts Anne, he is happy, you are happy. But she was lying to herself, as she had been everyday for the last two years. Even she, who had never had any issue with describing her feelings, struggled to find words to describe how much she missed her friend and academic rival.

Before she could stop herself, she reached into the back corner of the drawer, pulling out a pocket dictionary and a bundle of letters. She ran her fingers along the spine of the book, that had begun to tear on the edges due to constant use. “So you can beat me fair and square,” she whispered, opening up the cover out of habit. She never did get to truly beat him. The last time they competed was at the Queens entrance exams, which they both ended up in first place and became dual recipients of the prize money. It should have made her angry but when he came to Green Gables to tell her the news, they both hugged without any indication of malice.

A smile danced on her lips once more as she turned her eyes to the letters, all of them from one sender. She pulled out the top letter, which was clearly much older than the rest due to its dark yellow hue. The envelope was falling apart from the letter coming out so often although now she didn’t have to read it to know its contents. It had been memorized for years. Her smile widened when suddenly she felt something rising in her throat. One, two coughs escaped her lips before she sputtered out crimson liquid on the envelope. She dropped the envelope in horror, only now realizing it felt like someone was poking an ice pick into her skull.

Well that’s not good… Quickly she began putting her items back in their designated spot, when she turned her attention back to the envelope on the floor. Slowly, not wanting to make the room start spinning again, she bent down to pick it up and laid it gently on the desk, not wanting it to drip onto any of her other treasures. She pulled the key from the drawer and placed it gently around her neck, deciding it was finally time to attempt standing. It took longer than it would usually but eventually she was standing on her own two feet without support. She fastened her shawl around her shoulders, it was warm for a september afternoon but she felt slightly chilled.

Stepping out of her office, she locked the door behind her and made her way through the center aisle, using each desk as additional support, stopping for only a brief moment at the fourth one back. She would use the excuse that she needed to catch her breath but she always found herself drawn to the desk her old rival used to sit at. It sat empty every day, none of her students chose to sit at it, but she felt a more powerful force at work. Like they were saying that spot belonged to Gilbert and to him alone.

Another cough pulled her gaze from desk. She made her way to the door as another rose in her throat only this time it was joined by a metallic taste. A taste she had become used to all too quickly. She managed to pull her handkerchief out just as the blood rose in her throat. The spot was larger this time but not as much as she had brought up in her office, which she was grateful for. Shoving it back in her apron, she fished the schoolhouse key from the other pocket. Around her, images began to blur. She managed to get the key into the lock on the fourth attempt.

“Auntie!” A sweet voice called from behind her seconds before arms tackled her legs with a bear hug. Anne braced herself against the wall and began to see stars.

“Oh, hello Dellie!” she said as cheerfully as she could manage. The dizziness was worsening now but in truth, she was happy to see the little girl who had brought so much joy into her life over the last three years.

“Careful Dellie, you don’t want to knock Queen Anne over now, do ya?” Sebastion called from a little farther down the path, carrying a basket in one hand. He greeted her with a toothy grin and Dellie released her legs, opting to hold Anne’s hand in one of her own, and her father’s in the other. Anne looked down to see the the basket filled to the brim with gorgeous red apples.

“Oh, those must be the apples for the pie,” Anne smiled softly, unsure if she could manage more. She of all people loved conversation but today, she was willing the conversation to end soon. All she wanted at the moment was a cup of tea and one of Marilla’s quilts draped over her lap.

“Yes they are. Freshly picked today, especially for you, by Miss Delphine Lacroix,” As he said her name, he poked Dellie’s cheek, sending her into a fit of giggles. He joined in her laughter and poked her again. Anne wished she could join in their joy, but something was feeling very wrong at that moment. Her face suddenly felt flush and the world around her spun so quickly, she felt she was going to puke. “Sorry for bringing them here, but you know how much she loves seeing the school…” he stopped suddenly, his eyes finally reaching her face. His smile dropped instantly and looked at her with great concern. “Anne, are you alright?”

Before she knew what was happening, her knees gave way and she fell forward, ripping her hand away from Dellies.

“ANNE!” Bash caught her with ease, throwing the apples on the ground. Dellie stood stock still for the first time in her life.

“Bash,” Anne whispered, “I think I am in need of assistance getting ho-” she was interrupted by the worst coughing fit she had all day. Everything hurt, her lungs were on fire, her head felt like it was going to come off of her shoulders, and the world continued to spin.

“Auntie?” Dellie had begun to cry. Anne wish for nothing more to reach out and wrap Dellie up in her arms, tell her that she was okay but her body betrayed her. Her body felt like Atlas holding up the sky. She was tired. So incredibly tired. I just need to rest my eyes...just for a few moments... The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was Bash picking up Dellie, throwing her onto his back before he picked up Anne, and began running to Green Gables.

#anne with an e #anne with an e spoilers #gilbert blythe #anne shirley #anne and gilbert

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frankchurchillsaysrelax · 5 years

Text

A lot of you wanted to know what happens next. Hopefully this doesn’t disappoint.

i’m a rusty set of strings that i keep windin’

part one

Michael will always remember his first day of school, not for any of the reasons children usually remember that day but because of the discovery it would lead to. One that would change his life for better and worse.

His first three days in Albuquerque had been spent hidden away inside his new house. His first attempt at a home on this planet. He didn’t understand then why his foster parents even bothered taking him in. They weren’t nice people and they barely spoke to him, acting as if they were the mute ones whenever in his company.

Still, he felt comfortable in that house. He missed Max and Isobel, sure, but it didn’t bother him like he thought it would, being so far away from them and the pods. He could still feel a connection to them, a small pull at the back of his mind that reminded him they were still out there. He supposed he always would.

So he kept to his room, finding ways to amuse himself. There were no toys, not even the dingy kind they’d played with at the group home. Drawing, on paper this time, always on paper, passed the time and when he tired of that he slept. Dreams came easily, always the same; floating someplace warm and pink where everything was quiet and safe, and when he woke the feeling followed him throughout the day.

Then Monday came and he was taken from his safe haven and dropped in the middle of a war zone. Tiny humans besieged him, their weapons comprised of lingering stares and whispered thoughts hidden behind hands. The braver ones armed with sharp words trying to pierce his silence. More adults watched him, only ever him, with sad eyes and wouldn’t explain what about him caused them so much unhappiness.

All of that was manageable though compared to that feeling of peace slowly fading throughout the day leaving an aching loneliness so strong he thought it would never go away.

Several months continued like this, a cycle of familiarity and routine that helped Michael settle into his assumed human existence. School, speech therapy, and then home to quiet the feelings the outside world imposed on him. He discovered that the loneliness was still inside him but at home it was so much easier to ignore it. Maybe that’s what home means, he often wondered.

He found his answers in a bottle one day. Eight years old and left unsupervised, curiosity prevailed. Something about this house brought him the only inkling of happiness he had ever known and he needed to know what it was. He’d heard the whispered plans to send him away. No amount of money was worth having to be around him it seemed.

Less than a year later he was finally taken away but so were they, in the back of a police car. Finding that bottle had scared him and for good reason it would appear. He might not have had any memories or fully understood what it means to be human, but something told him that peace shouldn’t come from something like that.

So he chose to seek it in other places. Talking came easy once he actually tried and he learned that he could make the other children laugh with him instead of at him, even if he still couldn’t call any of them friend. He found joy in his schoolwork, solving problems as natural as breathing.

Things were looking up, and then came Sante Fe where home wasn’t safe nor even a word he could pretend applied to him anymore. They had their own bottles here, ones that sat out in the open and turned you mean when you drank from them.

His powers began developing shortly before their tenth birthday, nearly three years to the day from when they’d left the pods. The first time he lost control, a broken lamp was echoed by the crack of his foster father’s belt. Locked in the bathroom looking for anything to help with the pain he’d found a duller version of an old friend. The packaging might have been different but there was no mistaking the dizzying smell lulling him under a blanket of tranquility.

He breathed in deeply, each inhale setting his ribs on fire. It wasn’t enough and tentatively he took a sip. The stinging liquid trickled down his throat, burning at first and then soothing as relief rippled out from his chest. So he sat, drinking away his pain and desperately begging the universe to spare his siblings a similar fate.

— —

When Michael wakes it feels like no time has passed and yet he is definitely no longer on Isobel’s bathroom floor or draped across Alex. The pain is noticeably gone aside from the constant ache of his left hand and a slight headache. His body feels light but his mind is tired, drained from the events of the last two days.

There’s someone laying beside him, easily recognizable and comfortably curled against his side, their head resting on his shoulder.

“Is?” His voice is weak and sounds almost as exhausted as he feels.

Isobel sits up only to throw herself over his chest in a crushing hug. He wraps his arms tightly around her and runs a soothing hand over her hair when he feels her take a shuddering breath. His eyes open slowly and it takes a moment with the setting sun breaking through the windows to realize he’s in Isobel and Noah’s guest room.

“I’m sorry Izzy,” he whispers into her hair. “Guess I fucked up again huh?” He tries to laugh but it sounds hollow. He never should have come over tonight.

Isobel slowly rises until she’s perched on the edge of the bed looking down at him with her most austere big sister look, though the effect is lessened by the worry still clear in her eyes. She reaches out to run her fingers comfortingly through his hair.

“Trust me, we’re going to have a serious talk about you not seeking medical attention and nearly dying on my bathroom floor.” He rolls his eyes. That seems like an over exaggeration, although going by the look she has on her face he wonders if maybe it isn’t.

“We’re also going to discuss the glowing metal Liz pulled out of your back.” He closes his eyes trying to tamp down the fear that sentence stirs, knowing that she can definitely feel it from this close. “But all of that can wait until tomorrow. Right now I’m just glad you’re ok.”

Isobel fusses with the blanket covering him for a moment, maternal energy pouring from her even if she doesn’t know how to harness it. When he opens his eyes he sees that her stern mask has crumpled revealing the fear and sadness she had tried to shield. Tears gather in her eyes and as always he feels physically pained at the sight. He grabs her hand giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I love you Michael, and I promise I’m going to be a better sister from now on.”

Her words confuse him and he stares at her with wide eyes trying to make sense of them.

“I love you too. Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about though, you’re the best sister in the universe far as I’m concerned.” He grins up at her, as sincere as he’s ever been but she just shakes her head, holding firm to her statement.

It’s true though. Isobel trusts him, she confides in him. She knows that no matter what she can always come to him for help or even just for someone to talk at until she inevitably solves her own problem. She tries to include him in family events, the ones that don’t include the Evans parents at least, and she has always been quick to bestow hugs or other signs of affection on him, ever since the day he returned to Roswell. There really isn’t much more he could ask for.

Unwilling to argue the issue she simply leans down to press a kiss to his forehead before standing.

“You should get some sleep. Like I said, everything else can wait for tomorrow.” She walks backward towards the door as she continues talking. “Liz took Max home so he could recover but Alex is still here. He refused to leave but he’s smart and didn’t try to fight me on staying in here with you.”

Michael smiles, trying to picture Alex going toe-to-toe with Isobel about anything. The thought of them arguing over who gets to sit with his unconscious ass fills him with a warmth he can’t describe.

There’s a soft knock on the door before it opens revealing Alex standing in the doorway.

“I heard you walking around. I figured that meant he was awake.” Isobel crosses her arms and narrows her eyes, giving him an appraising look. Michael watches closely to make sure she’s not using her powers. He’ll have to remind her that Alex is off limits when it comes to her influencing, even if they’re not together. Alex doesn’t back down and the two of them are suddenly caught in a staring contest that Michael is too tired to make sense of. Eventually Isobel raises an eyebrow, motioning for him to enter the room. Alex goes swiftly.

“I take it you’re spending the night?”

Alex nods but his eyes are now firmly set on Michael, openly watching him in a way that makes Michael’s skin warm again but for very different reasons. Michael couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. He hears Izzy scoff from somewhere off to the side.

“No sex in my house, Michael.”

She closes the door behind her and Michael expects her words to leave an awkward tension between them but Alex just steps closer to the bed, shedding his jacket and jeans before sitting down to remove his prosthetic. Michael makes note for the first time that he is also dressed for bed in a tshirt and pair of pajama pants he knows belong to Noah. He doesn’t even want to know how he got to be that way.

Alex lays down beside him and Michael allows him to manhandle him into being the little spoon. Satisfied, Alex wraps an arm around Michael’s waist and tugs him snugly against his chest. Michael wants to ask how this fits into Alex’s definition of friends but he’s too afraid that those words would break whatever spell they are under.

Sleep calls him back quickly, his breathing slowing to match Alex’s and his eyes closing against the remaining stretches of sunlight, until Alex speaks.

“We need to talk about what happened earlier.” Michael tenses involuntarily in anticipation of his next words. “I’ve seen guys at the VA get hooked on opioids, just wanting to numb the pain. I know what it looks like, Guerin.” Blunt as ever, that’s his Alex.

Michael wants to argue, to deny and deflect. He knows he can’t though, not after the way he was acting this afternoon. He wants to ask Alex what he expected from the kid who grew up surrounded by addicts. Is it really that much of a surprise that this is where he wound up? He’s too tired to have this conversation right now.

“Tomorrow,” Alex speaks softly, nuzzling into Michael’s curls. His breath is warm against his scalp and his lips brush the skin with a simple kiss that is distinctly not friendly.

Michael settles back into the strong, protective hold. Tomorrow is promising to be a long day of painful revelations and explanations. For now he’ll lean into their connection, let Alex’s presence quiet his mind and accept the peace being in his arms always brings him.

#my fic #malex fic #malex #isobel evans #roswell new mexico #i have stared at this for too long and now i hate it

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skamthemuse-blog · 6 years

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Chapter 5: The Tape

8 hours earlier…

“Elias your music is shit,” Adam yelled from the back of Yousef’s car, jammed in between Mikael and Mutta. Elias turned it up louder, flipping his friend off as he did so. Yousef sighed loudly and turned it back down, not taking his eyes off the road.

This had been the tone all trip. They were all so close to jumping down each other’s throats it was as if they were in a pitch-black dynamite factory and someone was walking around blindly with a match. None of them had been in a good mood since the premiere. This was probably due to the severe sleep deprivation the Hei Briskeby boys were facing. The Saturday night they had all gone down to the police station with Even. They had been there all night and all they could get was a “we don’t know” and “we’re looking into it” from the officers. On Monday morning they had decided Even wasn’t going home alone. They had all wanted to be with him, arguing over whose house he was going to stay at. Then, Eskild had shown up. He said that Magnus had called him. Eskild let them know that Noora was gone for the next few days and he would be more than happy to have Even stay with them. The boys knew there was no arguing with Eskild on this matter. When Eskild offered his hospitality, there was no saying no.

They had stayed with their friend at the Collective all Sunday night, taking shifts sleeping, but no one saw Even after they got through the front door. He had locked himself in Noora’s room and refused to let anyone else in. Eskild had made it clear that he could deal with the situation alone after Mikael fell asleep, after his thirty-first hour awake, over a bowl of cereal and almost drowned in the milk. From there, the boys gone to Yousef’s house. Since the moment they had walked through Yousef’s door on Monday, they had been trying to piece together what could have happened but the harder they tried, the more implausible things got. The worst part was that no one would tell them anything. And to them, that translated to no one knew anything.

It was around 3am on Tuesday morning when Elias had loudly exclaimed, “Fuck it! This isn’t working!” He hadn’t really known what would work but he knew he had to get out of the house. They couldn’t just sit around waiting for a phone call that would never come.

Yousef had looked at him with empty eyes, defeated as the rest, “Then what do you want to do?”

“Drive,” Elias replied with the first thing that popped into his head. “We go see where exactly they went missing and we find them.”

“The police are—”

Elias cut Yousef off “The police aren’t doing shit! And we can’t sit around until it’s too late. We have to do something.

No one had argued. No one had the energy to. So, after catching what little sleep they could, the group disembarked on their mission. They had no idea where exactly they were going. They knew the road and that Jonas and Isak had disappeared somewhere between point A and B on a map, but no news coverage had said exactly where. Part of the problem was that the road all looked the same.

“Stop!” Mutta yelled about twenty-six minutes into the trip, startling everyone in the car. Yousef slammed on the breaks. The car behind him narrowly missed crashing into the back of their vehicle. Yousef slunk down slightly as the driver behind sped past, spewing obvious obscenities at him and flipping him off as they went.

“Mutta!” Yousef yelled, turning around. He was giving his best stern dad look. It would have been humorous if they hadn’t almost been part of high-speed collision.

Mutta pointed to a tree beside the road. It looked like all the rest of them, so it took a second to figure out what they were supposed to be looking at. This tree itself wasn’t significant, but the yellow police tape attached to the trunk marked what they were seeking. This was where Isak and Jonas had gone missing.

Yousef pulled over to the side of the road. Everyone got out of the car. The group stood around in silence for a moment. Elias didn’t know what he thought they could find but everything seemed so… normal. As if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. It made Elias sick just thinking about it.

“We’re not going to find anything here,” Adam proclaimed after about ten minutes of the group just standing there. Like the world’s longest moment of silence. They had all been thinking it, but he was the only one brave enough to vocalize it.

“But where next?” Mikael asked.

Yousef turned and walked back to the car. As he opened his door, he called around, “There’s a gas station a few kilometers back. If they stopped anywhere before they got here, it would be there. Maybe they saw them.”

With that, they were off again. Connecting the dots on an empty map. Maybe eventually they’d see the full picture.

***

The gas station was busy. Cars were coming and going faster than Elias could keep up with. Unfortunately, it turned out to be faster than the employees could either.

“Sorry boys,” the attendant at the front counter told them after they had explained the situation, “I just don’t remember your friends. I told the police that too. We see a lot of people in here every day.”

“Please just take one more look,” Mikael pleaded, holding up the photo of Isak and Jonas on his phone once more.

Yousef leaned over the counter, “Do you have a security tape we can check?”

“If I did, the cops would already have it,” the attendant continued. “Ours stopped working about a week ago, before your boys came through here. It just shows static. We have a guy coming to fix it tomorrow, but I guess that won’t help you all that much.”

“Not at all actually,” Elias muttered under his breath. Yousef elbowed him gently in the rib.

“Thanks anyway,” Yousef smiled. He guided his disappointed friends towards the door.

Once outside, all the boys headed in the direction of the vehicle, deflated. Except for Yousef. Yousef walked straight to the road adjacent to the gas station. He didn’t stop and wait for them. He just kept walking. The other boys watched him in confusion.

“Where are you going?” Elias asked, jogging to catch up with his best friend.

“Just because the gas station doesn’t have a camera, doesn’t mean someone else around here won’t.”

“You think someone else saw them driving by?”

“I don’t know. But it’s better than turning around and going home with nothing.”

Yousef was right. Turning back home right now would just make everyone more frustrated and upset. They would repeat the cycle they had been on for the last few days of waiting and hoping. The funny thing about hope was that there was only so much of it one had to run on. Elias didn’t want to know what was left after hope, but he knew that they were all soon to find out if they didn’t find some semblance of an answer.

Elias walked, stride by stride with Yousef down the street. Most of the shops weren’t open yet this early in the morning. They were mostly unassuming mom and pop shops. They weren’t the kind for big security systems. Or most of them weren’t. Yousef stopping in front of the exception: Happily Ever After Wedding Gowns. It wasn’t much, but there was a little camera hanging from inside the window that faced out onto the street. While it wasn’t open, there was a generic looking young man, around their age, steam cleaning a dress inside.

Yousef knocked on the window of the store. The man looked up. He pointed gestured to the closed sign. Yousef took a step back. Elias stepped in, knocking harder this time. The man opened the door.

“Sorry buddy but we’re closed,” the man said, trying to fake confidence that he obviously didn’t possess. He seemed scared of Yousef and Elias. If Elias had to guess, it was racial prejudice showing its face, based on the way he was looking at them.

“Come back in two hours,” the man began closing the door. Elias stuck his foot in it, preventing him from doing so. He didn’t have time for this.

“Look, we’re not here to buy a dress,” Elias said, annoyed.

Yousef explained for his friend, “We think that you can actually help us with a missing persons case.”

“A what?”

Elias pointed to the camera in the window, “The video on that camera may be the last thing to see Isak Valtersen and Jonas Vasquez.”

“I saw them in the paper this morning.”

“Can we please just check.” There was a desperation to Yousef’s question that both boys knew the dress shop man couldn’t ignore.

The man opened the door back up all the way. “Look, the footage from last week is on my laptop at home, but if you want, my fiancé’s there right now. I can get her to show you it. Let me just write you down the address.”

***

Elias and Yousef had gathered their rest of their team and made their way on foot to the apartment complex that the man had written down for them. It wasn’t too far away. The location of the wedding dress shop must have been planned because of the apartment’s location. It couldn’t have been the other way around. It didn’t really seem like the sort of place you would just put a bridal store. To each their own.

Once inside the apartment, the boys climbed up to the second floor. They stopped in front of number 204 and knocked on the door. It didn’t take long for a young woman with blonde hair to open it. As soon as Elias saw his face he recognized her. She was someone who was has always made herself hard to forget.

“Vilde?”

***

The boys sat in Vilde’s living room awkwardly. They had come to find answers to one mystery and found themselves solving another. Elias had never known Vilde well. They had chatted back and forth that one time in high school, flirting a little. He’d always thought she was cute. She still was. But she looked a lot more… tired? Yeah, that was the word he would use. Tired.

Admittedly, he didn’t know much about what had happened between his sister and Vilde. All he really knew is that one moment all the girls were best friends and the next they weren’t. When he had asked Sana about it she just changed the subject. He had asked Even about it once but Even said that he really didn’t know. He knew bits and pieces of gossip from Isak and his other friends, but he couldn’t say any of it was more than just rumours. He also said that what he did know for sure, he couldn’t say, for Magnus’ sake. One thing that was consistent across all the stories that Elias had heard from various people, was that Vilde started drinking a lot more in her senior year. It was getting to dangerous levels. Apparently, alcoholism was something that ran in her family. He remembered Even saying Sarah had helped Vilde get through some of it back before Vilde left. He wondered if she was still drinking.

“Your uh, fiancé seems nice,” Yousef said, trying to alleviate the crushing silence that had a grip on the room.

“Oh, he’s not my fiancé,” Vilde replied quickly. It was almost defensive.

“But he said…”

“He’s asked me a couple times. I’ve never officially said yes. Why put a label on happiness?” Odd.

“But you two own the dress shop, right?” Yousef continued.

“Oh yeah. Well, it was my idea but it’s under his name. And his money too. He’s an entrepreneur.”

“How did you meet him?”

“I don’t really remember,” Vilde replied, holding a steady smile. It was obvious to the boys that she was lying, and they knew she could tell because she changed the subject, “Why did you come here?” It dawned on Elias that she must not know about Isak and Jonas. If she did she would have put two and two together. Or maybe, if she knew, she would come home to her friends.

“Um, it’s kind of a long story,” he started. What do I even say. “Actually,” Elias continued, “it’s about Isak and Jonas.”

“Are they here too?” Vilde looked a little nervous. As if the thought of more people she had known back in her adolescence would see her like this.

“They, uh-” Elias looked over to Yousef. He hated to be the bearer of bad news.

Yousef took the hint, “They’re missing.”

Vilde’s brow furrowed, “Missing?” That obviously hadn’t been what she was expecting. For Elias, it was proof she really hadn’t known.

“Yeah. That,” Elias replied.

“Since when?”

“Friday night,” Yousef replied. “Look, Vilde we think the camera in your shop may have seen them come through here. Then we can pinpoint the exact time it happened. It’s our only lead right now.”

“Why haven’t you told the police?”

“The police haven’t done shit,” Elias said. “It’s been four days and we’ve heard nothing. We don’t have time to wait. Please, Vilde. They were your friends too.”

Vilde stood up and walked into the next room without a word. Elias wasn’t sure for a moment if she was actually intending on helping or running away from answering them. Thankfully, she returned a moment later with the laptop. She set it down in front of them, already on Friday’s video.

“You’ll have to fast-forward to whenever they were here,” Vilde told them. She took a step back but didn’t leave. She was just as interested in what may be on that tape as they were.

Yousef leaned forward, sliding the video bar on the laptop forward. He looked over at Mutta and asked, “What time did Even say that Isak left that voicemail for him?”

“18:16,” Mutta replied.

“It has to be before then, if their car was found after town,” Adam said.

It took just under half hour to reach town from the spot where they had found the police tape. The footage must be in there somewhere. Yousef found the window of time he was looking for. Then, they sat and watched. And watched. And watched. After twenty minutes, they realized it was a lost cause.

“Maybe they took another road,” Mikael offered.

“No,” Yousef shook his head. They wouldn’t have. “It’s got to be here somewhere.”

“Maybe they called before they came in?” Vilde said, from her spot off to the side. Everyone looked at her. The call sounded like that’s where they ended, but if the abruptness of the call’s end was somehow unrelated….

Yousef slid the time bar forward on the video slowly, watching as the frame went by. “There!” Adam yelled as he did, pin pointing the spot they were looking for. There was Mahdi’s car driving past.

“Zoom in,” Mutta said. Yousef did as he was told. That’s when they saw something no one was expecting. The face that popped up on the screen was blurry, but everyone knew it wasn’t Isak or Jonas. Someone else was in the car with their friends. And that someone knew where Isak and Jonas were. “Who’s that in the driver’s seat?”

***

The drive home was much livelier than the ride back. Everyone was on edge, minds racing. Elias was holding a flash drive in his lap with the only bit of hope they had found since their worlds were turned upside down. He checked his phone for the first time since he had got to Vilde’s house. He had a bunch of missed messages from Sana. He needed to tell someone about what had happened, and Sana seemed like the person to tell. He called her.

“Now you call me! What the hell, Elias?” Sana asked.

“Hey, Sana, before you get mad, I really gotta tell you something,” Elias said quickly, trying to get it all out before she stopped him. Yousef took his eyes off the road for a moment, almost cautioning him about what he was about to say. Elias decided to start with the news about Vilde, “I think we just saw your friend.”

“What friend?”

“The ex-one. You know, Vilde.”

“Wait,” Sana asked. “I’m going to put you around speakerphone. Okay, what did you say?”

“We saw Vilde,” Elias repeated. “But that’s not even the biggest thing we found. God, I don’t know how we’re going to tell Even but—”

“Tell me what?” Elias heard a male say on the other end.

“Even?” Elias asked.

“Yeah, I’m here.” Even answered.

Elias moved the phone away from his face. He mouthed to his friends “It’s Even.”

“Don’t tell him,” Mikael replied quickly, leaning forward in his seat.

“No tell him,” Adam argued, pushing Mikael back against his seat. “He needs to know.”

Yousef took his eyes off of the road, turning to Elias, opening his mouth to weigh in on the debate. As he did this, he missed the light at the intersection turning from yellow to red. Elias never got to hear what Yousef was going to say. What happened after was all a blur. Mutta was yelling at Yousef to look out. Yousef jerked the steering wheel to avoid the inevitable impact from the truck speeding towards them from the cross lane. Then, their car spun out into the embankment below. The vehicle rolled once as it descended. It all happened so quick that Elias didn’t have time to process what was happening before the airbags engulfed him. Then, everything went black.

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pezski · 7 years

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Mental Health update

I've had my worst day in some time, since my time off work last year. After returning to work on progressive hours to get me back into the flow, I was finding full time too much; the energy it takes to get through the work, of focusing and the performance of dealing with clients and colleagues, of worrying whether I am up to doing this or should even be trying, was just leaving utterly drained. Outside of work I hardly had the energy or inclination to do anything at all. So, I requested reduced hours, backed by my manager. After initially trying to fob me off with half-hour shorter days, that would have been no help at all, I've gone to a four-day week of normal shifts. I'm only a month and a half in, but I can tell it's helping; the three day day break gives me time to recuperate, so it doesn't just feel like a downward spiral from which I'll never recover. I'm beginning to gain the energy to do things out of work, although it takes a hell of a lot of effort. There are still some really hard days, of course. It's not unusual to have a workday where I feel like I'm struggling early on, where I'm having trouble drowning out the thoughts that I just can't do this and You're fighting an uphill battle that you're going to lose anyway, so why not save the effort? but I push through this and it tends to settle down and I actually end with something of a sense of achievement. Monday was one of these. Right from the start I knew it was going to be tough; I was having problems focusing and felt outside myself and wanted to give up, but stuck with it until these feeling subsided, and it was a good day. On Tuesday I was fine, hammering away at the coalface and getting lots done. In retrospect, perhaps I was having a little trouble concentrating at times, but that might be entirely post hoc. Suddenly, right after a phone call with a client - which was lovely, no issues at all - it was like being hit by a freight train. The volume level in the office had risen suddenly, as it sometimes does, but it seemed so loud I could hardly breathe. Everyone seemed to be shouting into their phones or across the office to each other. I was having trouble writing up my notes, the world spinning around me. I actually thought I was going to throw up. I managed to finish my notes and practically sprinted away from my desk. I just needed to be somewhere away, somewhere quiet. I locked myself away in one of the disabled toilets - a room instead of cubicles, and there's nobody in our organisation that would be more inconvenienced by me blocking this than any other loo. And I couldn't leave. I just had to sit there, on the floor, trying to gather myself. Not even gather my thoughts; when this hits it feels like a tornado in my head, everything whirling around so much that I am aware that thoughts are there but they just flash past like snowflakes, barely visible as individual things, never mind graspable. I must have been there for 45 minutes, by which time it was lunch so I walked around in the fresh air and winter sun for half an hour, went into Waterstones, although I have no idea what I looked at. Back at my desk, I was aware I was away from the phones for the rest of the afternoon - admin and casework I could do at my own pace, but I found myself just staring at the screen. I couldn't make sense of anything. Not like I imagine severe dyslexia or alexia is - I could read the words, but just couldn't hold any meaning in my head. What was I meant to be doing? Even though the office had quieted and it had been almost two hours since I left my desk, I knew I really couldn't do this. The inner voice was right. My manger was away from his desk and the deputy manager seemed in high demand elsewhere - besides, he didn't know about it and I felt suddenly so embarrassed, and didn't feel it was worth troubling him. I just wanted to slip quietly out, but some part of me knew I couldn't so I sent a quick email to the boss - I'm sorry, I'm really struggling today I can't do this. I need to go. I'm sorry - turned off my PC and left. I jumped on my bike and took a circuitous route home to try to clear my head. I curled up in bed for awhile, in the warm womb-like comfort of the duvet. It was a nice afternoon and I'd thought to go for a run, the rhythm and exertion and serotonin release of running is one of the was I keep going, but I was so tired I could hardly move. I felt drained, probably not more drained than I ever have but that bone-deep weariness which, like severe pain or cold, is difficult to comprehend if you've never felt it or to remember accurately when you have. This morning I slept through my alarm (although I'd only slept fitfully during the night, I vaguely remember rising enough from slumber to silence my phone) and woke again after 8.30. I'm not sure whether I'd planned on not going in, but that sealed it, so I texted my manager an apology and curled back up, trying to ignore the light of day. Tomorrow would be the last day of my working week, I guess I'll just have to take it as it comes.

original post: https://pezter.blogspot.co.uk/2018/01/mental-health-update.html

#depression #anxiety #mental health #mental illness

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gallifreyanlibertea · 7 years

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Coincidence

a/n: @inkwells-writing: My AP World History teacher was a loveable asshole and my AP Chemistry teacher was a dork so have this. I’m sorry this didn’t satisfy your toe kink... :(

Arthur woke to the impending doom that was a stack of essays on his nightstand table. The throbbing pain in his temples told him that no, he had not fallen asleep grading them like a good teacher, but had instead obliged to the whims of his coworkers and tossed back a couple of drinks until he’d forgotten his last name. Kirk-something was it?

Arthur turned his gaze toward the conveniently formatted papers, in which, underneath the writer’s name was consistently printed a Mr. Arthur Kirkland.

Kirkland, yes, of course. He blinked his groggy eyes.

There was no harm in letting go once in awhile, yes? It wasn’t often that he’d let himself go to this extent, but it had happened and that was that. No need to go back and lament. Besides, another day behind on reading and he might get the raw satisfaction of making his students wait longer for their grade. Oh, he loved to feel evil, Arthur felt a smile tug on his lips despite the parched, dry state of his throat.

It was easy to blame teachers when grades came in late, Arthur even remembered cursing some of his own to hell and back, but oh boy. Being one was so much different. Torturing his students was as fun as his job got, and if it was another excuse to go out and party like he wouldn’t end up breaking a hip, he would take it.

All in good-natured fun, of course.

He sat up, rubbing at his eyes, blinking to find himself surprisingly unclothed.

It didn’t faze him. One would expect him to… empty the contents of his stomach after, maybe, the fourth drink, naturally. Even his piss-drunk-est self wouldn’t let him sleep in soiled clothes.

His vision blurred for a painful bit before he hissed aloud and held his head in his hands. “Damn.”

“I know a good family recipe for hangovers that I think would be of service to you!”

“I definitely need that service,” Arthur replied with a chuckle, letting himself be pulled into a warm, comforting embrace, fingers under his chin tilting his head up as lips peppered his forehead in kisses.

Oh, the way those arms wrapped around his bare waist, pulling him to a strong, sturdy chest, to hell with the hangover, with those essays. They could wait another few hours, it was hardly ever he got time for himself to enjoy, responsibility-free, stress-free-

Stress-free only to the extent of which those green eyes of his blinked open, wide as saucers, because he hadn't been in a relationship in what felt like forever.

So who was in his bed?

Arthur used every last bit of strength in his arms to push the man far away, holding the bedsheets to his chest like a vice, “Who the hell are you, mate?”

The look he got in response wasn't like something you would expect from a stranger in bed. The man tilted his head, confused. He shifted to prop an elbow up, chin resting in the palm of his hand. “Are you alright?”

Arthur held his breath. “Uh-”

The man turned to the nightstand, slipped a pair of glasses onto the bridge of his nose and Arthur felt every drop of energy drip out of his system. His sheets dropped back down to pool at his waist.

“Mr. Jones?”

“I think at this point, you can call me Alfred.” Mr. Jones said with a dreamy smile, propelling himself forward to no doubt plant another kiss wherever was closest on Arthur’s skin.

Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.

Arthur found himself jerking backward, “What- wh, why are you in my…”

“You don't remember?”

It was a silly question to ask. Taking into consideration of their lack of clothes, of the hangover wracking Arthur's skull, of the fact that they'd woken up in the same bed- Arthur was no Sherlock Holmes but he was pretty damn sure what had happened and he wished with every cell in his body that it hadn't.

Because this man taught the class directly across from him, and Mondays were already hell, but now, to walk into school and see a man he’d spent the night with, to see that face every single day?

Arthur crossed his arms. “Mr. Jones, you need to leave. Now.”

“I-” Mr. Jones sat up and those sheets fell away from his shoulders, making it extremely difficult for Arthur to be stern.

No matter how badly behaved his students were, Arthur could always relentlessly crack the whip. But they had never been naked in his bed, and they had never been built like a tank, with biceps, or triceps, or numerous other -ceps that seemed to come out of nowhere. Arthur had definitely never seen them behind those button-down shirts Mr. Jones would wear to work.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, Mr. Jones-” A furrow of those brows framing those sad, sad blue eyes and Arthur cleared his throat, hand pressing reassuringly against a pectoral before him.

And for other reasons too, of course- “Alfred, I just-”

Oh, that face. The same expression that fell across those features when Alfred caught one of his students cheating on an exam- he was, by many and all definitions, a more empathetic teacher than Arthur could even try to be.

Arthur would watch him as he flitted around his class, blue eyes sparkling with wonder at the thought of being surrounded by atoms, that the whole world’s workings divided down into the subject he so lovingly taught.

“Chemistry!” He would say, loud enough to catch Arthur’s attention as he watched his class silently take a quiz. “You guys, chemistry is everything!”

And Arthur would grumble, resting his chin in his hands because history was quite literally everything as well, yet his students never got hyped up about hunter-gatherer societies undergoing the agricultural revolution.

What was Alfred’s secret? Arthur had always wanted to ask, hell, he vaguely remembered doing so last night- slurring over the rim of his umpteenth drink wondering aloud how anyone could make Coulomb’s Law as interesting as Alfred did. So interesting that Arthur himself would pause his teaching on many an occasion to listen in on Alfred’s lectures, after which he would shut the door and resume with a scowl.

Needless to say, Arthur didn’t remember Alfred’s answer.

“I have quite a few essays to grade that I would be better off doing in an empty house. To avoid distraction, that is.”

Alfred broke out into a grin, “I know you like to hold off grading those!”

Damn. What else had he told him last night?

“If I hold off any longer, I think I might warrant angry letters from parents,” Arthur said with a nervous chuckle, shifting to the far edge of the bed.

Alfred shifted with him and peeked over at the nightstand, crinkling his nose. “The dates on those look fairly recent.”

He then turned back to Arthur with a sunny smile. “Maybe you had them confused?”

“Yes, it’s possible I- oh.”

Alfred had climbed on him. Yes, literally, like a dog craving attention, he had hoisted himself quite literally to hover above Arthur, smirk pushing a dimple into his cheek. “So what say you about a round two?”

“I think I have another set of essays somewhere in the back to, um-”

“God, you make me so hot,” Lips were at Arthur’s ear and green eyes fluttered wide open. “Heh- I guess you could say, you’re quite the exothermic reaction.”

“My parents are coming over in half an hour!”

Alfred paused, expression mimicking the faux-panic on Arthur’s features. “What?”

“Yes, my parents, they-” Arthur sat up straight, hands coaxing Alfred’s warm body off of him- somewhere, anywhere, God, just somewhere that was not above him. “They want to see what I’ve done with the place.”

“You should’ve led with that.” Alfred said naively, blinking as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Gosh, I’d better leave then.”

“Yeah.” Arthur nodded, and damn he was either one good actor or Alfred was just one gullible man. Something told him it was the latter.

Alfred slipped out of bed to hunt for his clothes and Arthur fought the urge to look.

“Say, why don’t you put your number in my phone and I could call you sometime tomorrow?”

Arthur would not be doing that. “Er- yes, of course.”

A man like Alfred- if he were already this attached after one night, Arthur could just imagine how it would be after a date. To top it off, they were coworkers, it wasn’t ethical!

Besides, Alfred could do better than a shifty man like him whose nightmares were commitment itself.

“Phone’s next to your essays. The password is 1776.”

Arthur couldn’t help the smile working its way onto his face. How predictable... He then went back to frowning, feigning the action of plugging his number into Alfred’s phone.

It was for their own good! They weren’t compatible, it wouldn’t work, and this was the only way to ensure their careers would be unaffected by the disaster that would ensue when two very different types of people decided to date.

“I guess I’ll leave then.”

Alfred put on his clothes and Arthur remembered why he’d been so eager to bed him in the first place, drunk or not.

Mr. Jones was a stud.

“And I guess you’ll call me by tomorrow.” Arthur said with a laugh, burrowing under his sheets, “With the number I put in… on your phone.”

“That’s the plan,” Alfred said with a wink and he was gone. Out the front door, with a phone that didn’t have Arthur’s number on it, dropping a two-ton weight on Arthur’s chest as the door clicked shut.

He slipped on his underwear and a pair of reading glasses, deciding to grade an essay before freshening up. It was unfair, truly, to the student who wrote it because Arthur was not in a very forgiving mood.

Nor was he usually ever, but even more so today- Like he always tended to be after trying situations such as these, not that they were quite common either.

He tended to be quite different in class.

Arthur was a man of a gentleman demeanor. One that could lock up any feelings that conflicted with his normal behavior behind it, feelings such as those that would be brought about by a particularly annoying member in his class, or someone telling him they didn’t remember the homework assignment had ever been given.

In those cases, he would keep a straight face and deliver a proper punishment. Not one tinge of red in his cheeks, not one word that hadn’t already been rehearsed in his head minutes before the conversation.

And it had been that way until the fateful day Mr. Jones had begun to work in their school.

He brought with him leagues of distracted students. Girls who spent more time admiring him through the windows of Arthur’s class, taking discreet pictures as if Arthur wouldn’t catch them and force them to move seats far away from the window view.

He did.

It was all so confusing, how childish little teenagers would throw away perfectly good education, perfectly good opportunities to get A’s on every single exam he’d administer, just to gawk at a man who would never give them a second glance.

“Could I borrow a marker? Mine is dry.” Had been the first thing Alfred had said to him though, and forget everything Arthur had just said, because he was gawking. Stuttering for the first time.

“Um, I-” Exposed. Arthur had paused in his movements pacing back and forth the classroom, as he usually did when he lectured. His hands had fumbled on his desk, “What color?”

“Any color you can spare!” Mr. Jones had said with a dazzling smile and Arthur needed to sit.

“Is green alright?”

“Green!” Alfred had taken it from his hands, leaving Arthur nearly shuddering at the touch of those warm, rough fingertips. “Green is perfect! Beautiful.”

And Arthur knew Alfred couldn’t possibly be talking about Arthur’s eyes, or the sweater Arthur had been wearing that day, but it felt like it and Arthur had to sit right down, turning to scowl at his snickering students upon Alfred’s leave.

“I hope you find it funny when I give you a pop quiz right this instant!”

So of course when Francis, the French teacher down the hall, had asked him out for drinks, promising with twinkling eyes that Alfred would be there as well, Arthur had foolishly gone, pretending it was due to a stressful week. Pretending it was due to anything that wasn’t wanting to see Alfred outside of school.

Despite the fact that Alfred had proposed sharing a lunch break the day he returned the green marker, and despite the fact that Arthur rejected not only that offer, but many others that had manifested themselves, he simply had to go get those drinks. For some bloody reason, Arthur was drawn to him, yet at the same time repelling like the wrong end of the magnet nearing another.

He thought about it all weekend, leading to the moment he’d walked right back into school on Monday, a bit late, seeing as the first bell had already rung before he’d walked into class.

He set his bag down behind his desk. “You’ve got a pop quiz on chapter eleven. Prepare as much as you can before I can get out your graded essays.”

The chorus of groans only served to quirk the corner of his mouth up in a sly smile. “And it’s not curved.”

“Mr. Kirkland!”

Arthur had taken a little longer than he would’ve to set the essays on his desk, but when he did, a timer was set and a relatively simple yet lengthy quiz was passed out, giving him a bit of time to leisurely grade the one or two essays left to grade.

He couldn’t fully focus the whole weekend. Not when small tidbits of Friday night came back to him every now and then, putting a nasty red on his cheeks, forcing him to take a break and… once in awhile, relieve the tension they brought him. He was only human!

Which is why he averted his eyes as he unwittingly caught the blue-eyed gaze of the teacher across the hallway, who’d stopped midway in his lesson to cast a rather sad look in Arthur’s direction.

Arthur chewed the inside of his cheek.

“Now if you guys will get to work on your labs, I’ll be right back!” He heard Alfred say and he practically buried himself in the essay in front of him, pretending to be occupied, nonchalant, indifferent, all at once, all to keep Alfred from walking to the threshold of Arthur’s classroom and knocking gently against the wooden door.

Which he did anyway.

“Hey, Mr. Kirkland, can I see you for a second? I’m having problems with my computer.”

“You should ask Mr. Honda in the math hall, he’s far better at technology than I am,” Arthur responded all too quickly, flipping to the next page in the essay and marking a word with a red pen. “Besides, my class is taking a quiz right now, I can’t leave them, sorry.”

Those blue eyes dimmed down even further and Arthur didn’t know Alfred could own an expression so distraught.

And it was all Arthur’s fault.

“Alright, thanks anyway.”

“Yeah, good luck with your computer, mate.”

Arthur was a horrible, horrible person.

He didn’t believe it when he gave out multiple choice quizzes where all the answers were B, he didn’t believe it when he took fifty points off an essay for botched formatting, yet with that look on Alfred’s face, Arthur was ready to have the insult tattooed on his forehead. He deserved it. He was a grade-A ass.

One that couldn’t bring himself to tell Alfred he wasn’t interested, even though he so clearly was. One that couldn’t bring himself to ask Alfred to leave him alone even though it was the last thing Arthur wanted.

Arthur was a mess and Alfred had caught himself in the crossfire.

The dismissal bell rang faster than Arthur would’ve liked, despite the school having a block schedule, and he watched as his students left the room, leaving quizzes at his desk and picking up unsatisfactory essay grades on their way out.

“You know, Arthur-”

A startled jump and Arthur bit his lip, eyeing the surface of his desk as his fingers fumbled with the fabric of his sweater.

Alfred had walked in during Arthur’s free period and there was no excuse coming to Arthur’s mind, not one that would save him from this, frankly inevitable, confrontation.

“The oxygen in the water molecule has two lone pairs of electrons, and electrons always repel each other.”

Arthur pretended he knew that information.

“They push the hydrogen molecules toward each other, and despite one hydrogen desperately wanting to get as far away as possible from the other one, they’re forced together by the lone pairs pushing them down.”

Alfred touched Arthur’s shoulder and Arthur recoiled, just slightly.

“There doesn’t have to be those two lone pairs for us.”

Despite the unnecessary chemistry analogy, Arthur got it. There was no need to be pushed together if Arthur wanted to get as far away as possible. A far-fetched comparison, but he got it.

“Well, I mean, if there weren’t two lone pairs on the oxygen we’d all be nonexistent.”

Arthur glanced up to find Alfred rather flustered. “Not! Not that I’m saying we have to be together for the sake of the human race or anything, er- it was a bad analogy, but if you don’t want me to bug you just let me know.”

A man of admirable quality. Arthur cleared his throat. “Friday night was a mistake I’d never intended to make- I hadn’t been fully conscious.”

“Me neither!” Alfred blurted, “Or else I wouldn’t have let it happen, I mean, because you couldn’t consent. Not that I... didn’t want it to happen.”

“I don’t think it, um, we should be more than that. A mistake.”

“Okay.” Was Alfred’s response, punctuated with a light smile. It was enough closure for Arthur to have gotten back to his work and for Alfred to have gotten back to his, yet for some odd reason, Arthur couldn’t stop.

It was as if he was convincing himself. “I mean, we’re co-workers, what if something went wrong and we brought our feelings into the workplace?”

“Well, if we fought, I think you’d be able to handle it pretty fine, you never seem to lose your cool.” Alfred remarked, “And me? You never gave me your number and despite that, I think I handled my class today just fine.”

Arthur swallowed around the lump in his throat. “There would be rumors.”

“The rumors would be true.” Alfred said with a shrug, “Besides, it’s not like we’d parade it around school. If they ask, we don’t have to tell.”

“We can’t date, though,” Arthur muttered, fists clenched atop the surface of his desk. “We just can’t, I’m sorry.”

“And that’s okay, it’s what I came here to say, don’t feel pressured to comply with what I want,” Alfred said with a grin, and Arthur really could’ve left it at that. Alfred seemed to carry himself well, he would be fine, and everything would be back to normal, but he just… couldn’t.

“Although, I find myself craving a sandwich from that coffee house near the supermarket. It really is quite good.”

“I’ll have to try it out,” Alfred said, and Arthur glanced up to find him plucking a pen from his pocket, scribbling a note onto his wrist to which Arthur had to force himself not to chide him for the habit.

One couldn’t reveal their true colors so quickly.

“I think I’ll be there, what, this evening? Around seven?”

Alfred stilled his motion, clicking his pen so that the point receded back into its shell.

“If you happen to be there around the same time, I can’t do anything about it.”

“Nothing more than a coincidence,” Alfred said with a smile, and Arthur dared not smile back, lest a student saw and discovered that he was not just a shell of a human with not a single emotion inside, as he tended to quite frequently appear.

After all, there would be plenty of smiling in the numerous other coincidences to come.

#IF ANYBODY ROASTS ME FOR USING A CHEM REFERENCE WRONG MEET ME IN THE PIT I LITERALLY DO NOT CARE #I fuckin hate chem so much #usuk #aph america #aph england #literally fuck anyone who's good at chem I'm on team world history #chem whizzes are too powerful and need to be kept far away from me #literally everyone I know who likes chem finds lame excuses to make references and now so does alfred suck it #jk ily all #except you chem whiz #(I'm just jealous I'm joking)#my fanfiction

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maryeemeeh · 7 years

Text

Wolves of Manhattan

Summary: He is the rich kid from the Upper East Side with a troubled past and a dysfunctional family. She is from Greenwich Village who is pulled into the world of the rich and famous when her parents receive promotions. When their paths cross, a spark is ignited and the tables are turned when they learn they are far more connected than they thought. AU.

Originally posted on fanfiction.net

CHAPTER FIVE

It was a typical Monday morning in the Matthews household as Riley stepped out of her room and entered the kitchen for breakfast. Mrs. Matthews was on the phone and making coffee while Mr. Matthews was reading the newspaper. Riley took her usual seat in front of her brother Auggie who was about to fall asleep in his bowl of cereal.

"Did you get enough sleep last night, Aug?" Mr. Matthews inquired of his son.

Auggie shook his head and yawned. "I couldn't sleep last night."

"That's because you took a long nap yesterday, sweetie." Mrs. Matthews explained as she sat down beside him. "Now eat your breakfast. You're going to need the energy."

They ate in silence, Auggie forgoing his manners and scarfing down his food as Riley suppressed her laughter. "Hey, Mom?" He asked, looking up from his cereal bowl. "Can I bring a friend over for dinner tonight?"

"Of course, sweetheart." She answered, reaching over to wipe off the milk mustache from his face. "Ava is always welcome."

"Oh I wasn't talking about her."

Mrs. Matthews arched a brow in surprise. "Dewey?"

"Nope. It's someone from the baseball team. Is that okay?"

She nodded her head and smiled. "Sure. I look forward to meeting this new friend of yours, Auggie."

Just moments later, Riley was snapped out of her thoughts when she heard the intercom buzz.

"Hey. It's Evan."

Riley scurried to the front door and pressed the intercom to respond. "I'll be down in a minute."

She rushed back to the kitchen and downed the rest of her orange juice before grabbing her backpack and grey cardigan from the couch. "Love you, Mom. Bye Auggie! I hope I don't run into you, Dad!" She joked before shutting the door behind.

Riley stepped outside of her apartment building where she found her male companion waiting at the bottom of the concrete stair steps. "Morning, Evan." She smiled and breathed in the cool air, lightly kicking a stone as they walked along the sidewalk in comfortable silence. She looked up at the morning sky to find a beautiful mix of yellow and orange with white clouds lingering overhead.

"So I've been thinking." Evan said softly, breaking the silence between them. "With the money your parents are making now, I'm surprised they haven't gotten you a personal chauffeur and limo to take you around." He teased as they descended the stairs to the subway station. Riley simply rolled her eyes, a smirk appearing on her expressive face.

"They are making just enough to send me to a private school, thank you very much. And besides, even if I had the extra money, I would rather take the subway with you."

He smiled sheepishly at her, looking away briefly to hide the blush on his cheeks. "So…what's it like hanging around with Manhattan's elite?" He asked suddenly, joining a small crowd waiting to catch a ride. "Have they scorned you? Questioned your superior intelligence and your fashion sense?" He nudged her playfully as Riley giggled.

"No." She murmured. "Not yet anyway."

They stood on the platform, waiting for the next subway train to arrive. Riley looked up at the screen above, which showed how much time was left for the subway to come. Luckily, it was only two minutes away until the next one.

"You know, they are not what they appear to be…or what we think they are." She began, shifting her weight from one leg to the other as an incoming train approached them shortly after. "Sure, ninety percent of the girls carry books in their designer handbags and most of them have limo service and ride in expensive cars. But…believe it or not, they have been surprisingly nice. At least the very few I spoke to anyway."

"Like Lucas." Evan blurted out as Riley shot him a look.

"Yea…like Lucas." She gave him an inquiring gaze, catching the annoyed tone in his voice. "Do you not like him or something?" She asked, perking an eyebrow at him. He shrugged his shoulders as the subway eventually comes to a halt. They hastily entered the packed car, squeezing through at the last second as they stood by the door. "Evan?"

"Okay I'm sorry, Riles but the guy walked in wearing a suit at a bakery." He scoffed, shaking his head. "What was I supposed to think?"

"That he was being professional on his first day, trying to make a good impression?" Riley commented, holding onto the bar as the train began to move. "And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that."

Evan frowned, nodding his head apologetically. "You're right. I wasn't even sure how I felt about him. I barely know the guy and I shouldn't make judgments. I'm sorry."

She simply smiled at him in reply, "It's okay."

They stood in silence for a few more stops until the subway stopped at a station and people around them got up, leaving the back of the car clear. "Well, this is me." Riley felt Evan shifting beside her as the doors opened.

"I'll see you after school?" She asked hopefully. "My mom is making dinner."

"I can't. Smackle and I have a science project to work on. But I'll um…I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay." She smiled and watched as Evan turned and left.

By the time Lucas arrived at the school gates that same morning, he was greeted by a few of his friends, most of them from the baseball team. After exchanging a few words, he quietly walked through a loud hallway full of students moving about to their first period classes while overhearing some students gossiping about the latest scandal and their love life. He continued down the direction of his locker, ignoring the flock of girls around him, begging for his attention as he kept moving. He turned at a corner and found Zay, Maya and Farkle standing by his locker waiting for him.

"Luke, my man!" Zay greeted cheerfully. "We missed you this past weekend."

Lucas smiled as he dialed in the combination to his locker and grabbed his books. "What did I miss?"

"We crashed a party at NYU." Farkle grinned, a little mischief showing in his bright eyes.

"You crashed a party?" He questioned, amusement playing across his features as Farkle nodded his head proudly.

"Yup!" He exclaimed, leaning against the lockers with his arms folded across his chest. "I was living pretty dangerously."

Zay and Maya exchanged looks and laughed. "Wish I could have been there to see it." Lucas said, turning to his friends as he slammed his locker door shut.

"You should have seen Maya." Zay smirked, playfully nudging her shoulder. "She was flirting with some college guy."

"Shut up. I was not!" She snapped as she could feel the heat growing in her cheeks, betraying how she may indeed feel for the college sophomore.

"Oh yes you were."

"He was flirting with me." She exclaimed, biting her bottom lip to suppress a smile. Lucas quickly glanced over at Farkle and watched his expression change to one of jealousy. Luckily for him, the others didn't seem to notice.

"So when do you have time to hang out, man?" Zay asked, pulling his broad shouldered best friend in for a one-arm hug. "You've been MIA."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I just…I have a lot going on right now with little league, the bakery…and my Mom getting the penthouse ready before my Dad arrives." He paused briefly, a sigh escaping his lips. "Trust me, I wish I could hang out with you guys more."

"It's okay, Huckleberry. We are here for you no matter what." Maya offered a reassuring smile as Zay and Farkle nodded their heads in agreement.

"Thanks, guys."

The sound of the first bell chimed around the school, signaling that classes will start in ten minutes. The four exchanged high fives before parting ways, agreeing to meet up during lunch period.

As Lucas headed towards his first class, maneuvering his way through the crowd, he was caught off guard when he was suddenly pushed against the lockers to his right. The loud bang resonated the hallways, pulling the attention of a few lingering students nearby. Lucas gazed up, a shocked look on his face when he spotted Thor casually walking away.

"Hey!" He yelled, ignoring Zay's plea to stop as he took a few long strides to reach Thor and gave him a little shove backwards. "What the hell is your problem, man?!"

"Come on, Lucas. Let it go." Zay intervened, creating some separation between the two.

Thor raised his hands up defensively, a mischievous grin plastered on his features. "You were in my way, Friar."

Lucas glared. "When are you gonna get it through your head that Maya doesn't want you. She doesn't like you and will never go out with you."

"Oh because everyone just wants to go out with you, right?"

"Maya is my friend." He corrected, anger fueling in his green eyes. "What will it take for you to stop?"

"Stop?" Thor scoffed, wracking his mind for a better expression, and then suppressed a mirthless laugh. "Oh I'll leave Maya alone all right. She's a great a girl and all. I like her. I don't want to hurt her. No." He said, shaking his head. "That was never my intention." Lucas' eyebrows furrowed, detecting the hurt and anger that has suddenly risen in Thor's voice. His eyes reflected such pain and grief that Lucas knew at once that this was more than a silly feud between them, but something far more personal. He couldn't help, but feel slightly scared. "I was going after you, Friar." Thor declared, his eyes filled with determination as they locked intensely with his. "And I will not stop until you suffer and feel the pain that your family has brought upon mine."

Lucas paused for a moment and swallowed hard, gathering what's left of his composure. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Like hell you don't know!" Thor fired back as his eyes moistened unknowingly, his nostrils flaring up in a huff. "It's been going on for years."

Lucas said nothing at first, wrestling with things he couldn't understand. "That's just it, Thor." He ventured slowly, the pain in his chest growing stronger as secrets and memories of the past flashed before his eyes. "It happened years ago."

"And you honestly believe it stopped?" He blinked, his eyes fuming with rage as Lucas was taken aback by how vulnerable and serious Thor looked. "Do you ever wonder who keeps your mother's bed warm at night when your Dad is away?"

A thick silence filled the hallway as the air around them began to feel tense. The only sound in the space was the muffled voices coming from the other students who stayed and watched the confrontation with wide eyes. Lucas stood rigidly, his chest heaving and hands balled up into fists when suddenly the sound of footsteps cut through the silence, causing him to regain control and relax his muscles.

"That's enough you two." Came a firm voice from behind. They all looked up to see the Dean Mr. Matthews standing before them. "Show is over." He said, looking between Thor and Lucas with a concerned expression. "Everyone go to class. Now."

And just seconds later, the final bell rang as students hurried to their classrooms. Lucas waited for a moment until the hallways cleared out. And when it finally did, he looked up and spotted Riley standing at the other end of the nearly empty hallway. Their eyes connected briefly, Lucas not missing the grave concern that was etched in her features. Swallowing tightly, he watched as she averted her gaze and walked away.

Lucas stared fixedly at the wall watching the clocks hands tick one by one, counting down the minutes and seconds until the final school bell rang. He wasn't having the best day and it seemed like everything was slowly getting worse as the events of what happened earlier continue to occupy his thoughts. What made it even worse was that everyone at school seemed to know as he could feel their eyes trained on him and hear students whispering among themselves as though he wasn't there.

The second the bell rings, Lucas was already on his feet, pushing his way through the crowd and exiting through the school gates where he spotted his driver waiting for him up front. He was then dropped off at a park near Greenwich Village for little league baseball practice as it was another day to serve out his punishment.

With so many emotions running through his head coming into practice, coaching alongside Josh gave him the distraction he needed as his day gradually improved. Seeing the joy on the kids' faces made it worth getting in trouble for as he found comfort and relief from his crazy life. But as time went by and practice drew to a close, Lucas was dreading the thought of going home and facing his mother.

So when one of the boys eagerly invited him and Josh to have dinner at his place, Lucas couldn't find it in his heart to refuse the young lad. It was also the perfect opportunity for him to avoid his mother for a few more hours.

By the time practice ended, the three of them got into Josh's car as he drove a few blocks down the road until they stopped in front of a row of modern, mid-rise apartment buildings.

"Thanks for the ride, Uncle Josh." The boy said as he stepped out of the back seat and shut the car door behind.

"No problem, kiddo."

Lucas furrowed his eyebrows as he followed them up the stairs to the apartment building. "Uncle?" He questioned, a confused expression spreading across his face. "Wait a minute…"

The front door suddenly opened as Lucas looked up and found Mr. Matthews standing before them. "My brotha!"

"My brotha!" Josh greeted back as the two share a hug.

Lucas watched on with an awkward smile, amused by the Dean's goofy and lighthearted nature he never saw coming. His eyes then softened to cautious uncertainty as he began to worry about how Mr. Matthews will receive him. But by the time his friendly gaze turned to his, all his doubts melted away. "Ah, Lucas. You must be the friend Auggie was talking about. Welcome to my home." Mr. Matthews said warmly. "Please come inside."

Lucas nodded his thanks as he allowed Auggie to pull him inside to their livingroom apartment where a woman approached him.

"Hello, I'm Auggie's mother." She greeted, extending her hand and smiling reassuringly at him for a handshake. Lucas looked at her hand for a moment and took it gently.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Matthews." He replied, returning the smile. "My name is Lucas."

"Mom, Dad!" A familiar voice sounded as the light breathlessness of her voice made his heart flip. "Who is—"

She reached the bottom of the small steps that led to the kitchen as she looked up and paused in mid-sentence, a surprised and goofy grin appearing on her face. Her gaze shifted from Auggie to Josh until they landed on Lucas and smiled. "Oh hey…" She spoke softly as Lucas sends her a small smile, his green eyes gleaming with adoration.

"Hi."

Mr. Matthews drew his brows together as he watched the exchange take place between the two of them. His confused face then turned into one of genuine concern, realizing what was happening as a nervous breath escaped him.

"Oh boy…"

#Rucas #rucas fandom #rucas fanfic #rucas fanfiction #riley x lucas #lucas x riley #riley and lucas #lucas and riley #riley matthews #lucas friar #GMW #girl meets world #girl meets world fandom #gmw fanfiction #gmw fandom

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newstfionline · 7 years

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After Irma, Florida prepares for days—and maybe weeks—without power

By Patricia Sullivan, Mark Berman and Katie Zezima, Washington Post, September 13, 2017

CAPE CORAL, Fla.--Millions of Floridians grappled with the aftermath of Hurricane Irma on Wednesday, confronting a sweltering reality: More than 40 percent of Florida still lacked electricity, and for some of them, the lights might not come back on for days or even weeks.

“We understand what it means to be in the dark,” said Robert Gould, vice president and chief communications officer for Florida Power and Light (FPL), the state’s largest utility. “We understand what it means to be hot and without air conditioning. We will be restoring power day and night.”

But, he acknowledged: “This is going to be a very uncomfortable time.”

Across the nation’s third most-populous state, that discomfort played out in homes that were silent without the usual thrum of perpetual air-conditioning. It meant refrigerators were unable to cool milk, laundry machines were unable to clean clothes and, for the particularly young and old, potential danger in a state where the temperatures can range from warm to stifling.

Even for those who had power, some also were struggling to maintain cellphone service or Internet access, sending Floridians into tree-riddled streets in an effort to spot a few precious bars of signal to contact loved ones.

“It’s a mess, a real mess. The biggest issue is power,” said Bill Barnett, mayor of Naples, on Florida’s Gulf Coast. “We just need power. It’s 92 degrees and the sun is out and it’s smoking out there.”

Utility companies made progress as they undertook a massive recovery effort, restoring power to some. At its peak, the Department of Homeland Security said about 15 million Floridians--an astonishing three out of four state residents--lacked power.

By early Wednesday, state officials gradually lowered the number of customers without power, dropping it to about 4.4 million from 6.5 million on Monday. Because each power company account can represent multiple people, the sheer number of residents without electricity was massive: Going by the Homeland Security estimates, at one point Irma had knocked out power to one out of every 22 Americans.

It would take some time before all of them had electricity again. Duke Energy Florida said it would restore power to most customers by Sunday, a week after Irma made its first landfall in Florida. Some harder-hit areas could take longer due to the rebuilding effort.

Gould said that FPL, which powers about half of the state, expected customers on Florida’s East Coast to have power back by the end of the weekend. People in western Florida, closer to Irma’s path, should have it back by Sept. 22. That estimate does not include places with severe flooding or tornado damage, he said, and those areas could also face a longer wait to be able to switch on the lights.

Floridians reacted to the outages eclectically. Some welcomed the absence of perpetual air-conditioners. Others flocked to their local malls for a respite from the heat.

“There’s no power at home, so we might as well just stay here and stay cool,” Amanda Brack, who was with her son, Gavin, said while walking through a Brookstone at the Galleria shopping mall in Fort Lauderdale.

Blake Deerhog had walked to the mall from his powerless and steamy apartment in nearby Victoria Park, trekking some 20 minutes in the stifling heat and humidity after he Googled and learned it would be open.

“This is definitely better than being back at my apartment,” he said, adding that he planned to spend the afternoon there.

The outages also caused rising alarm in some places. Here in Cape Coral, an assisted care facility for patients with dementia and memory impairment that sheltered in place during the storm went without power for three days, as elderly patients suffered in the rising heat.

The southwest Florida facility, Cape Coral Shores, had 20 patients stay during the storm as part of an agreement with state and local officials because the emergency shelters it would normally use were both evacuated as Irma approached. Power at the facility went out, and it stayed out, even as homes and businesses all around it saw their lights come back on.

As the indoor temperature climbed to the mid-80s Wednesday morning, humidity made the hard-surfaced floors slick with condensation. Patients gathered in a small day room to catch a slight breeze from screened windows. A handful of small fans powered by a borrowed generator were all that kept the situation from devolving into a medical emergency, said Dan Nelson, Cape Coral Shores’ chief operating officer.

“People here are fragile,” Nelson said, adding that air-conditioning in such facilities is a medical necessity. “This is not just about comfort, it’s about safety. We have magnet door locks that don’t work, fire suppression equipment whose batteries have run out, assisted bed lifts that don’t work. And the temperatures today and tomorrow are headed back to the mid-90s.”

A state emergency official said Wednesday afternoon he had found a large generator and 50 gallons of gas for the facility, but there was no need: The power came back on.

While the Sunshine State was the hardest hit by the outages, they extended to the other states Irma raked as it headed north. Hundreds of thousands lost power in the Carolinas, Alabama and Georgia, where at one point 800,000 were experiencing outages on Tuesday, though that number declined during the day.

The deteriorating storm once known as Hurricane Irma--classified Tuesday as a post-tropical cyclone--grazed onward through the Mississippi Valley, losing essentially all of its prior strength but still drenching some areas with rainfall.

Across the southeast, even as people acknowledged that they had dodged the worst possible hit from Irma, they were still left to contend with destroyed homes, flooded cities, swollen rivers, canceled flights and debris in the streets.

The city of Jacksonville, Fla., remained flooded after the St. Johns River overflowed so severely the day before that it forced residents from their homes. Charleston, S.C., city officials said the intense flooding there on Monday closed more than 111 roads, most of which had reopened Tuesday.

In Key West, it remained unclear when power, cellphone service or supplies would be available again.

“What you have on hand is rationed to make sure you can get through,” said Todd Palenchar, 48, noting that his supplies of food and water are designed to last for a week. “You don’t know how long it’s going to be.”

Palenchar said he is used to camping and roughing it, but his main concern right now is his property.

“I’ve already posted signs where I’m at, ‘Looters will be shot, no questions asked,’” he said as he pulled up his shirt to reveal a .380 caliber pistol.

As Irma tore through the Caribbean and approached the Keys last week, authorities had ordered millions in Florida to evacuate and, in some cases, ordered them to hit the road again as the storm’s path wobbled. On Tuesday, officials slowly began letting those people return home.

In Monroe County, which includes the Florida Keys, and other places that let residents back, officials warned that many areas are still without power, cellphone reception is questionable and most gas stations remain shut.

Miami-Dade Mayor Carlos Gimenez said about half of the county’s traffic signals were out. Broward County Mayor Barbara Sharief said the number was closer to 45 percent of traffic signals there. Across the state, the explanations for the outages were visible alongside the road.

“It’s a lot of trees and power lines and snapped poles,” said Kate Albers, a spokeswoman for Collier County, which stretches across southwestern Florida and includes Marco Island, where Irma made her second landfall.

“I can tell you from driving around you see lines down all over the place,” Albers said. “You see trees thrown through power lines and you’ll see an occasional pole.”

The high number of outages across Florida were due largely to the storm’s massive size, said Ted Kury, director of energy studies for the Public Utility Research Center at the University of Florida.

“For a significant period of time, the entire state was under a hurricane warning,” Kury said. “Normally it comes through, sometimes it comes through fast and sometimes it comes through slowly. But this one hit pretty much everybody.”

Kury was among those who did not lose power but did lose Internet, cable and cellphone service, so he and his wife had to walk to the next development before his wife got enough signal to text their oldest son and her parents.

Florida utility companies embarked upon a massive response effort to get the lights back on. Gould, the spokesman for FPL, said the company had dispatched 20,000 workers to work day and night restoring power, first to critical care infrastructure--like hospitals and 911 systems--and then to feeders that send juice to the most customers. Finally, they get to individual neighborhoods.

In St. Petersburg, where gas-powered generators had growled through the night, residents lit their way with battery-powered lanterns, flashlights and tea lights.

“We’ve run out of power before,” said Jeanne Isacco, 71, reaching for her walker to stand and punctuate her point. “Why do you think we live here? Excuse me! We know it’s hot.”

#Hurricane Irma #Florida #florida power and light

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