#if i were anything like my self this would be a 7k study but as it turns out writing about grief is exhausting

[flowercrowngods]

🤍🌷 @stevesbipanic and @the-winged-doe asked to see ugly unpolished unrefined words, soo—

cw & tags: past major character death, grief, attempted time-travel fix-it(s), eddie&robin besties || potential wip

Eddie takes a long drag of his cigarette, the biting hot smoke hitting the back of his throat and clawing its way into his lungs, going as deep as he allows and leaving a permanent mark that brings neither relief nor calmness tonight. His fingers shake where they’re pressed to his lips, but the rest of him is unmoving where he sits on the front porch of their new trailer. 

It’s quiet out here. It’s always quiet in Hawkins these days, the city a fucking ghosttown. 

And he knows it’s not because of the one they lost. He knows it’s not because of him. But still the emptiness is stark and the silence oppressivem more so than it ever has been. 

Everyone still looks for him, months later. Dustin still begins to speak, cutting himself off mid-sentence, and Robin still stands with enough space to either side, like she expects him to just show up and invade her space like the home he made for himself in there. 

And somewhere among all that is Eddie. With his very own history. Or, non-history, as it turns out. But history and non-history leave wounds alike, and the memories feel just as real. A small mercy, at the end of the day, for them to feel real when they’re all he has left anymore. 

He takes another drag, not quite exhaling before he obliterates the cigarette and fishes for a new one before the butt even hits the ground. 

Fumbling with the lighter in his pocket, he only gets as far as placing the butt between his lips before a hand snakes into his field of vision to snag it from his mouth. 

“Hey,” he complains halfheartedly but makes no attempt at getting it back, watching instead as Robin comes up to sit beside him, grimacing at the stink of tobacco that must be heavy around him. 

“You’re disgusting,” she says with no real heat behind her words.

Eddie shrugs, because yeah, sure. He’s been called worse things. Robin’s called him worse things. This is her being nice. Her complaininig about his incessant smoking is nothing new. What is new is what she does next, placing the cigarette between her own lips and reaching for the light he’s been holding in a loose grip since she arrived. 

She starts coughing immediately, pulling a face at the disgusting feeling of smoke in her lungs and tobacco on her tongue. But she keeps going. Eddie can only watch in surprise and mild horror. 

“These things’ll kill you,” he says then in an echo of her usual sentiment, aware that he sounds as bewildered as he feels. 

“Well,” Robin says, aiming for casual, but quickly interrupted by a wheeze and a cough that’s almost adorable. “Let them try.” 

Eddie huffs, a pale little smile lingering on his lips as he leans back against the stairs behind him, resting his weight on his forearm to watch her. There is something captivating about her. Eddie always wonders what it is, wants to study her forever. 

Maybe it’s only the lingering traces of Everything Steve Harrington that clings to her every breath, her every move, her every fucking cell, with how much he was a part of her and she of him. Maybe it’s their shared grief that has made Eddie fall a bit in love with her and with the way the moonlight catches in her hair and in the smoke wafting from her cigarette. 

But somehow he refuses to believe that all he loves about her is merely the memory of Steve. 

Robin, in turn, is kind enough to let him stare. Kind enough to let him find out what it is between them. If this friendship is more than a misguided projection of grief and mourning and trauma; more than co-dependence and the obsessive will to keep this one person in your life. This one person who understands. 

After a while of Robin just holding the cigarette between her fingers, becuase no matter how strong her will to self destruct, she never quite got it right with the smoking, Eddie snatches it back before it goes to waste completely. As if pulled in by a string attached to his hollowed out chest, Robin leans back and into him in one smooth motion. It’s too calculated, though, and Eddie can feel how much she sags once she doesn’t have to hold herself up anymore. 

He’ll hold her. It’s fine. She gets to rest if she wants to. God knows she needs it. 

The night is warm for mid-September, but still Robin shakes against him. Eddie holds her closer. 

Silence settles over them, and it’s not an easy one. Silence is never easy anymore, especially with them. He feels so deeply hollow that even the silence echoes in there, creating an ever-present, uncomfortable thrumming of apprehension and anxiety within him. A certain sense of doom, one that can’t quite decide if it’s only an echo itself. 

“I wanna stop time,” Robin says at last, the cigarette long dead between Eddie’s fingers, but he somehow can’t bring himself to flick it away. “I don’t want tomorrow.” 

I don’t ever want a new day. I don’t ever want another tomorrow. I just want Steve. 

They ring in his head still, another echo that only hollows him out further every time it reaches him — Robin, overcome with hysterical grief, screaming and crying, curled up on that hospital floor, her cries quieting down and making Eddie wish she would be loud again, because the quiet was what killed him. The quiet, the whispered words, the declarations that tomorrow could go fuck itself if it came without Steve made him wish, irrationally, desperately, that their roles were reversed. That he could have died and Steve could have lived, and Robin would never have to wish tomorrow never came. 

He’s not entirely sure if she remembers the words, too. If she even said them in this world. 

So he takes a deep breath, breathes away memories and non-histories, feels the heavy weight of his guitar pick hanging around his neck, resting on the scarred flesh of his chest, and tries not to think of the one string left on his acoustic guitar. Tries not to think of his one last attempt. One last try. 

“I know,” he tells her. “Me neither.” 

He peers over her head, lifting his left wrist to check his watch. Ten minutes until midnight. Ten minutes until Steve’s birthday. 

“It’s not tomorrow yet,” he tries lamely, and Robin huffs — the sound wet and bitter and hopeless, making Eddie’s eyes sting. 

“It’s always fucking tomorrow,” she rasps, her voice flat and wavering, and Eddie knows her well enough to know she’s about to cry. And she knows him well enough to do it. 

“I know,” he says again, and reaches for his necklace through his shirt. One more attempt. One more try. One more chance. His eyes burn. 

She turns to him after taking a moment to compose herself, peering up at him through her lashes. 

“Tell me again?” 

His heart falls, the tense apprehension vanishing from the air, bur quickly replaced by something a lot more heavy. Something that looks and smells and feels like grief. 

They both know he’ll do anything she asks. He can’t really bear saying not to her. And not about this, anyway — she’s the only one who knows. 

She’s the one who should have had the chance. 

“Which part?” he asks, holding a new cigarette out for her to light it. She does, and the both follow the flame of the lighter Robin always keeps in her pocket these days. 

She leans forward and takes a drag. Eddie lets her. 

“All of them.“

Eddie sighs, pain welling up inside him, and he closes his eyes against the night sky. “Robbie,” he pleads, but he doesn’t finish his plea. He’ll do it. He’ll do anything she asks. 

But before he starts recounting the tales of how he almost saved Steve Harrington, he finds himself saying something he never thought he’d tell her. 

“There’s one more.” The words hang in the air, and Robin doesn’t react. Has no idea what’s coming; what he’s about to tell her. The guitar pick is heavy on the necklace around his throat. “There’s one more try. One more chance. I’m… I have one more—“ 

He can’t even finish the sentence. Can’t bring himself to say it, lest it all be jinxed forever. He doesn’t want to hope. Wants to carry this weight for all eternity and never think about all those times he failed to save someone he was never meant to save at all. People like Eddie, they’re not made to save anyone. Hell, they can’t even save themselves. 

Steve was supposed to be the one doing the saving. 

And he did. God, he fucking did. But he was never supposed to— 

Cold fingers wrap around his own as Robin fits their hands together. 

“I hate you a little bit for telling me.” 

Eddie nods, trying to focus on the cold hand and the nicotine in his lungs, trying not to let panic and grief and guilt and the heavy weight of one more chance win. “I know.” 

“Hey, Eddie?” Robin says after a while, the silence stretching on, and it’s almost midnight now. “Can you— Would you do something for me?” 

He turns his head, flicking the butt of his cigarette out into the darkness beyond them. “What’s that?” 

“Don’t— Don’t try to, to save him. Don’t— Just… Just maybe, could you celebrate his birthday with him? Make sure he knows he’s… God, make sure he knows he’s loved? Last year, no one really made time on his birthday and we just moved it backwards but God, could you— It’s almost midnight, and—“ 

“Robbie,” Eddie interrupts her, his voice hoarse and wavering, his eyes burning with tears as he tugs her close and holds her to his chest. “You should go. Don’t you wanna…” 

But she’s shaking her head against him with a vehemence that can hardly be misunderstood. 

“No,” she cries, and it’s more of a sob than anything. “I think if I ever saw him again, I’d… I don’t know what I’d do. Burn the whole fucking world to the ground for him or some shit, I can’t— I’d probably just cry all the time and that wouldn’t be helpful, really.” There’s a weak, wet laugh that bubbles out of both of them, and Eddie’s wiping at Robin’s face, drying the tears and making way for new ones to fall. 

“I’d light a fire for you,” Eddie says, the same weak smile on his lips that Robin meets him with now. “Nineteen fucking fires, you hear me?” 

She laughs again, then buries her face in his neck in a way that never quite fit. In a way that Eddie always knew was supposed to be someone else’s neck. 

But he’s not here anymore. And Eddie can’t get him back. No matter how much he aches for it, no matter how much he learned over and over and over again how easy it is to love Steve Harrington and how hard, how fucking impossible it is to lose him. Over and over and over again. 

And to live without him. This one fucking time they all get. It’s not fair. 

And now Robin is asking him to go back one more time and make sure that Steve knows— That he knows. 

Somehow the thought of that feels nobler than any attempt to save him, to bring him back; to rewrite history from a lonely boy’s perspective and hope that no one else is reading along. 

It feels right, too. Fundamentally and suddenly, and with such an intensity that Eddie knows the decision has been made the second he started telling her. 

Still he hesitates. Robin’s sobs have calmed down, and Eddie’s hand finds its way into her hair. 

“Do you really mean it?” 

She nods.

He nods, too, but slower. Like he’s trying to sway himself. Which way, he doesn’t know. 

“Make him happy.” 

“Okay,” he decides after a while, feeling hollow and desperate, but feeling purpose burning underneath his skin again. “One last time.” 

He unwinds his arms from around her and heads inside to grab his acoustic guitar. The last remaining string, badly untuned because he never dared to touch it, stares back at him in both mockery and invitation. A dare. A chance. A promise. 

Outside, Robin is waiting for him, looking anxious. Eddie wants to hug her. He doesn’t, only tightens his grip around the guitar’s neck. 

“Listen, Eddie, if this is goodbye or something—“ 

“It’s a birthday party, Robsie,” he interrupts her, aiming for light, aiming for brave. “I’m coming back right here.” 

“I know,” she rushes to say, taking a step toward him and wringing her hands. It’s endearing. It’s genuine. Eddie really is a little in love with her. “But, y’know, you don’t mess with time, and I don’t know what all you already changed before and I don’t wanna know but… If this is goodbye, if something happens, I just wanna tell you that I’m gonna miss you. And that I think you’re really cool. And that Steve’s— he’s really missing out, okay. Okay?” 

Eddie breathes, taking in her words and letting them soak into his body, his every last fibre. 

“Okay,” he smiles. “Thank you. You’re… I’m kind of in love with you, Robin Buckley. So there had better be no change in the universe, ‘cause that would really suck.” 

They smile at each other, Eddie with his guitar and Robin with her lighter, and somehow this feels like a deja-vu. The antithesis to a moment forever burned into his memory.

Make him pay. 

Make him happy. 

Eddie tugs on his necklace and plays the string before he can think about it too hard; before he can decide otherwise. 

Distantly, he hears the church bells announcing midnight as the world around him fades. 

🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @cryptic-cryptid @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume @steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround @pukner @i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic @bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @awkwardgravity1 @devondespresso @bookworm0690 (lmk if you want on or off, for this story or permanently)

[elwenyere]

AO3 Wrapped

Even though 2024 was my worst year for fic-writing by almost any numerical metric, it was also a year when I wrote some of the pieces I'm most proud of, including stories and ships that the me of several years ago would never have thought were in her wheelhouse.

In order of composition, here are five fics I wrote for five different fandoms that helped me discover something I loved.

-----

Separation (Top Gun, Icemav, 7k, M)

This fic started with me asking what it would look like to write a Top Gun story that leaned into the context of the Reagan 80s and the AIDS crisis rather than bracketing it. It was very different from anything else I'd written, and I feel quite attached to the version of Ice that emerged in this world.

Rope's End (Star Wars, Codywan, 17.8k, E)

a.k.a. the Pirate AU. When I conceived of this WIP, I thought it was going to be a fun, self-indulgent romp to write, and while I did certainly indulge myself, the fic also grew in many directions I hadn't anticipated. I'm very happy with the Cody and Fett family layers it developed.

More Like Misery (TOG, pre Booker/Andy/Quyhn, 1.4k, M)

I love this sad little character study, which was born when I started thinking about Booker and Quyhn dreaming about each other for hundreds of years while she died. Writing it helped me indulge a very particular craving, for which I hope the sequel will offer even more tasty food.

Hypnagogia (Inception, Arthur/Eames, 15.9k, E)

I had such a good time writing this: probably the most unhinged (positive) I've felt while writing this whole goddamn year (derogatory). It started as a note that said "Arthur x Eames sleep paralysis demon?!?" and ended up being a story about what self-concept means to a forger and what happens when they lose it.

However Stern and Iron (MCU, Stony, 19.7k, T)

[movie trailer announcer voice] The fic that took me three whole years to write... I'm hugely relieved I finally found the focus to put in the groundwork for this story: a Victorian AU that led me in unexpected directions and relied on what felt like a fairly risky experiment in style. It was a slow, challenging process, but I'm happy with the result.

-----

Thank you to everyone who shared the joys and struggles of creating with me this year: I appreciate you all very deeply, and I wish you the best energy possible for 2025. <3<3<3

[thatdehydratedmedic]

2024 Reflection and Hopes for 2025

It's been quite a year, a good one at that. As we begin this new journey I would like to take a few minutes to look back on 2024 and reflect on what I believe I've done well and what I can improve on.

Notable achievements

I can say with assurance that I have repeatedly put myself outside of my comfort zone. Some noteworthy examples of this include: having friends home, reaching out and asking for new opportunities, and reaching out and asking for help. In the beginning of the year, these were things I could have only dreamed of doing, but God willing, here I am now. It's become a lot easier.

In addition to reaching out, I have also become a lot more comfortable with taking the opportunities which are presented to me. Such as taking up people's offer to help or even just signing up for workshops. Again, a few years back I would not have ever even dreamed of it. I did always have a tendency to believe I was in other people's way. I would always worry about my existence being offensive to other people; I would believe that I was less worthy than any given person in a room. I've held on to believing I am subhuman for so long, it feels nice to finally start letting go.

Most note-worthy personal achievement - Anki streak of 102 days (the entire length of the semester)

This is special to me because I have not been a consistent person for as long as I can remember. I never used to trust myself to finish anything, but doing Anki consistently has shown me that I can and I do. This has played an important role in my growth and has shifted my perspective. I used to believe change was impossible, or at least difficult, but I have come to realize that once you let go of your own limiting beliefs, a lot of things become easy.

Things I want to carry forward into 2025

Anki streak

Growth mindset

Kindness

Openness to criticism

Regular prayer in time

Things I want to improve in January

sleep schedule

eating habits

drink more water

be on top of my work load

self confidence

workout

pray on time rather than in time

recite Qur'an more often

gain 8kg

Read more (1 book a month)

Specific goals for January

gain 0.11kg

follow meal plan - eat at least 1000 calories a day (no I do not have an eating disorder, I come from a poor background and I am trying my best to adjust to eating a normal amount of food after years of malnutrition, if you don't have anything nice to say don't say anything. Please refrain from commenting on this bit acting like you know better - I promise you, you don't. And if you do say something unnecessary I will block you.)

Be on top of my work load by 9pm on Friday

Weekly reflections on tumblr

Recite at least 1 ayah of Qur'an every day and learn with a YouTube video

Reach out to at least 1 professor weekly and ask for help with something difficult

Sleep before 1AM everyday

10 min workout every day

Walk at least 7k steps on weekdays

Read 1 study and critically appraise it

Finish crime and prejudice

[tpwkmadeline]

hieeee I’m the person who asked for career advice ,firstly a MASSIVE MASSIVE thanks for your response it was really helpful and yes it’d be amazing if you could talk more about financial aspects in fashion school and after you graduate but that isn’t my only thing I wanna do I’ve also been looking into law (fun fact my career counsellor specifically asked me to consider law or management studies also there was a section with various professions on it and it basically tells you if you’d be good, average or bad at that particular job and in my report it said i would be bad at surgery which I want to do but still my dumbass ignored all the signs) back to the point, I really want to explore more options but my parents are dead set on medicine like they won’t even hear me out also I cannot stop going back and forth between not wanting anything to do with medicine at all and also second guessing myself like what if I’m running away now because things are getting tough and real but if I stuck it out a bit things would get better, has that ever happened with you?…besides even if I get past the self doubt i don’t know how much other courses would cost and I really don’t want to spend more of my parents money than I always have.

oh, trust me, fashion has tested my patience a LOT. during school i had many experiences where i would question if i should’ve just stayed in university, etc. even while looking for jobs and not having luck at times i would doubt myself, but i stuck it out! but like…you know yourself and you’ll know if it’s just self doubt or if it actually isn’t for you. that’s how i felt when i was in university.

now at my school there were lots and lots of different factors for pricing, so my total cost changed year to year. but it averaged out around $20k before financial aid. i didn’t get a whole lot of financial aid because of my dads income so i relied on scholarships. i ended up paying i think $7k per semester in like four payments over the course of the semester.

the ONLY year that was drastically different in pricing was my first year because i had a dorm, so it was about 40k before aid that year (went down to about 25k).

you can also, if you really really need to, use loans then pay them off over the course of a few years after you graduate. if you can avoid loans, absolutely do it, but there’s no shame in needing them. i was fortunate enough that may dad helped me so i didn’t need to take out any loans.

[cafedanslanuit]

Allie babes congratulations on 7k aaaa ilysm and im so happy for you ♡ for your event I'd like a self ship please! you can decide who you want to pick bc i literally cant choose sksks

The first one would be me and draken! Our dynamics would definitely be acts of service bf, quality time/physical touch gf so I'd always just cuddle up to him a lot whenever he does something sweet sksks

My second self ship is me and sakusa! I feel like we're quite similar because we're both a bit stubborn and introverted (im ambi but more on the introverted side) so it would be a relationship where we learn to compromise bc we both cant get our way LMAO hed ask me if we can go home during a night out and i say no until my social battery dies an hour later. i think he's a big baby and bc of my love language I'd indulge soft omi so bad he'd be spoiled sksks

Congratulations again babe and thank you sm!!

a/n: IZZY hi mwah mwah love u

★    —    self-ship with draken!

whenever draken knows you've been studying for way too long, he shows up at your place with a bag filled with your favourite take-out

he really intends to just give you the food and leave but oh no, he's fallen into the trap, you have both arms and legs around him. guess he'll have to stay with you for a little while <3

he likes that at least he makes sure you take a break to eat a little c:

the "have you eaten yet?" bf, always worried about if you're taking care of your health or not

when you have free time, you always like to visit his bike shop. you don't really care he's busy working on a client's request, you like to pull a chair and spend time with him while he works

if the shop is already closed, draken will let you change the music if you want to. he will furrow his eyebrows if your music selection is nt what he would choose but he never says anything. he really likes when he catches you softly singing along to whatever song is playing

if he ends up working until really late, he'll ofer to drop you home and then come back working. most of the time you refuse, wanting to spend more time there-- something he really likes, but still feels good about offering you an out in case you were tired

when he eventually finishes, you'll go for a late-night drive on his motorcycle. he can speed as much as he wants and you get to feel the air on your face as he drives around the city

if it gets too late, he likes to drive to the beach so you can watch the sunrise together. he has snapped a picture or two of you watching the sunrise with a smile without you noticing. he keeps those photos to himself <3

→ allie’s 7k event

[britishboystm]

The Goodbye Prank | The Day We Met: A Fred Weasley Mini Series

Inspired by:

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+ (minors dni), oral f receiving, fingering, unprotected vaginal penetration, swearing, lots and lots of crying, deep hand cuts, angst!!

WC: 7k+

Chapter Summary: The boys are ready to move on to bigger and better things. What happens when Y/N finds out?

Series Masterlist

***

March 13th, 1996

“Hold still.” Y/N spoke sternly as Fred jerked his hand away from her, wincing in pain.

George was pacing back and forth in the background, glancing over at the couple every so often, anger filling his entire being.

She had really gone and done it this time. That poor excuse for a professor.

“Ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous.” Y/N seethed through gritted teeth as she concentrated on the task at hand.

“It really isn’t that big of a deal Y/N. It’ll heal on its own.” Fred cried out, not wanting his brother and girlfriend to worry about him.

“No, Fred you don’t understand! That bitch has gone too far this time. Detention is one thing... but this,” She placed a drop of alcohol on the plethora of cuts, making Fred cry in pain. Tears welled his eyes and he kept his lower lip beneath his teeth to quiet himself.

He didn’t want to be a bother.

“This is abuse, she can’t keep getting away with this!” She continued to rant.

“Y/N darling,” He spoke assuringly, slipping his hand away from her tending grasp and placing it on her cheek to calm her down. His eyes were soft and pleading for her to settle.

“She will never hurt me. This is temporary, but she will never truly hurt me.” A tear slipped out of her eye. She couldn’t help but feel that this was all her fault, that she was the reason he had gotten detention in the first place.

The day before, Y/N and Fred had been snogging in a dark corner near the restricted section in the library, and while she was doing her daily lurking, Umbridge came across the couple, threatening punishment immediately.

Before she could get a hold of both of them, Fred pushed Y/N away, demanding for her to run back to her dorm.

He himself hadn’t had the time to escape which led to him getting captured by Umbridge’s evil clutches, even if she only stood at a whopping four foot eleven.

So here he was, bleeding from the hand, all thanks to that pink toad's “special” quill.

In Fred’s chicken scratch writing, his hand read;

I will not coerce with mudbloods.

It had been speculated since she began “teaching” at Hogwarts that she was secretly a death eater. This was strong evidence to support said claim.

“This is all my fault.” Y/N murmured, making both twins shoot their heads up in surprise.

“Godric no! Y/N never say that again! I don’t care what it takes to keep you safe. And I also don’t care about your blood status. You are kind and smart and beautiful and a brilliant witch.” His words were full of hurt, hurt that she would think that of herself.

Fred knew Y/N was self conscious of the fact that she wasn’t raised in a wizarding household. That she had to work twice as hard to be where she was in terms of her studies, all because she had to play catch up with her classmates. It took a toll on her and Fred knew this. George knew this. Everyone knew this.

“I’m sorry Freddie I ju-,” He quickly grabbed her cheeks and kissed her to shut her up.

“Just heal my hand love.” He muttered against her lips.

George looked away, feeling like an intruder during a very personal moment.

“Alright.” She sighed out with a soft giggle and sniffle, resting her forehead against his. He soothed her further with a tender caress of her hands. Something she had grown to appreciate deeply.

“Vulnera Sanentur.” She finally spoke, slightly moving her wand and watching as the venomous words began to vanish from his skin.

“Thank you.” He sighed in relief, feeling the pain dissipate with every passing second.

“You’re welcome Freddie.”

April 2nd, 1996

It was the day of the OWL examinations and Fred and George had only one thing on their mind.

Revenge.

After a quidditch incident in which they knocked Malfoy off of his broom for speaking badly about their mother, Umbridge had made the biased decision to ban the twins from ever playing again. And then on top of that, she confiscated their brooms.

Then it was detention for Dumbledore’s Army along with two of his brothers, his sister, his girlfriend and a bunch of his friends and classmates.

Then he and George got in trouble with Umbridge once again for consoling a crying first year who had been a victim to her cruel and unethical detention practices.

Expulsion was a given for what they were about to do. But they didn’t care.

The boys had decided that after Umbridge ruined everything that was good about Hogwarts (e.g, Dumbledore's Army and Quidditch), education was no longer a beneficial part of their lives. Instead, using the money Harry had so graciously given them from his Triwizard earnings, they decided to finally jump ship and start a joke shop in Diagon Alley. Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes they would call it.

Now all that was left was what they considered to be their most brilliant prank yet.

And this was where Y/N came into the picture.

The three of them strolled down a corridor towards the great hall where Professor Umbridge was administering the OWL examination for the fifth year students.

Y/N was more than happy to help the boys with their prank, often being used as a siren for their sneaky schemes. She didn't, however, know the exact reason for this prank.

She didn’t know this was goodbye.

Fred and George drew a blank when trying to figure out how to tell Y/N about their plans for the future. It killed Fred to think that this could possibly mean leaving his girlfriend behind, even if it had been a dream of his and George’s for so long to start the biggest pranking empire the wizarding world had ever seen.

So while the twins spent weeks and weeks planning their departure, Fred also tried to think of ways to ask Y/N to go with them and leave Hogwarts for good.

Finally at the entrance of the great hall, they quickly went over the plan in secret whispers. Y/N then waited for her cue to enter the large space to create the much needed distraction.

With a tap on the shoulder, Fred and George gave Y/N the go ahead to start her one woman show. She let out a shake of nerves and ran in, coming to a complete stop at Umbridge's feet at the front of the hall.

“There are OWL examinations happening in this room. What is the meaning of this?” Umbridge spoke in a rather agitated but sickly sweet tone.

“There’s a few students playing around with banned Weasley products outside in the halls Professor. Causing a real disruption.” Umbridge clenched her fists. She couldn’t stand the twins.

All eyes were on Y/N. Most students knew she was Fred’s girlfriend so it was quite amusing to see the confusion on their faces.

Umbridge would have also seen through the act if she hadn’t been currently seething to the core.

“Right well, lead me to them Ms L/N.” She said tugging at the bottom of her pink tweed blazer. Y/N nodded, beginning to walk ahead of Umbridge towards the entrance, all the while, giving the boys the countdown for their surprise.

At one, Y/N noticed a gleam in the twins' eyes as Fred tossed a Whiz-bang right in front of Umbridge’s nose. Y/N quickly got out of the way as the Whiz-bang began to wreak its havoc. Umbridge yelped and screeched as she tried to outrun the now fully formed dragon that had emerged from the sparks. The professor was no match for Fred and George Wealsey, that was for certain.

As everything began to escalate, Fred and George mounted their confiscated brooms with conviction.

Fred took a moment to look over at his beaming girlfriend before placing a quick reassuring peck on her lips. The boys then pushed off the ground and zipped through the large room, their hoots and hollers of adrenaline trailing behind them.

Students cheered as examination papers floated about, all caused by the gusts of wind from the speed of the boys brooms. Then once enough students had gathered on to the balcony, the letter W appeared in the sky in the form of fireworks. It stood proudly amongst the clouds that it almost brought a tear to Y/N’s eye. These boys were legends.

It was quite spectacular to say the least.

———

Later that night, Y/N laid awake, feeling slightly concerned about the twins. Neither one of them had contacted her to say where they were or when they would be back.

Feeling uneasy, Y/N pushed her dark maroon sheets off of her body and headed towards the window hoping to see any sign of the twins returning.

Nothing.

She let out a shaky sigh but became startled when she heard a quiet thump behind her.

Once she quickly spinned around she noticed the outline of her boyfriend standing in the darkness, with just a splash of moonlight cascading over his face. Even in the shadow she knew which twin she was dealing with.

“Fred!” She whispered through a smile before jumping from the window seal and running over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He held her with a tightness that she had never felt from anyone else. It was almost as though if he were to let go she would simply slip away into nothing. She frowned over his shoulder and pushed back from the hug to look into his eyes, hoping to find all of the answers to the questions she had in them.

“Fred?” She asked, beginning to notice that sick stomach feeling again within her.

“Y/N, I need to talk to you.” His tone was stern and pointed.

She felt an inkling as to what this was all about.

“Fred don’t worry, If Umbridge tries to expel you I’m sure Dumbledore can override it, right?” His expression didn’t shift.

“Right?” She repeated with an unsure tone, starting to think that the worry of expulsion wasn’t why he was here. The flips and turns in her gut became more and more alive. She could hear her heart beating in her ears. Why wasn’t he saying anything god dammit?

“Did something happen Freddie?” Her voice was shaky, almost as if she couldn’t trust it.

“I need to talk to you about something. Something important that could change the rest of our lives.” Y/N could sense his nervousness from a mile away.

“Bloody hell Fred this doesn’t make me feel good.” He quickly placed a hand on her cheek to calm her nerves. She instinctively leaned into his calloused palm.

“Before you say anything, let me explain and then you can tell me what you think.”

“I’m thinking that the other girls will wake up if we don’t have this conversation somewhere else.” He finally looked at their surroundings noticing the other bodies sleeping soundly within the room.

“Come with me.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the dark dorm and down to the undisturbed common room.

“You’re scaring me Fred. Tell me what’s going on.” She watched him closely as he paced back and forth, clearly thinking about what to say next.

“George and I are leaving.”

“Not if Dumbledore has anything to say about it.” She responded, still very much left in the dark. Fred released a sigh and sat her down on one of the couches. The crackling fire filled the tense void between the two lovers.

“No, Y/N, we are leaving tonight. Getting away from Umbridge, from Hogwarts. We have a storefront in Diagon Alley that we are going to turn into the most wicked joke shop any witch or wizard has ever seen.” Y/N’s face was unreadable.

“Freddie the prank is over now. You don’t need t-” She said with a nervous laugh which he cut off.

“Y/N I’m serious. I know it’s hard to believe, but this time I need you to trust me. We are leaving Hogwarts, for good. George and I are going to be creating one of the biggest wizarding enterprises ever…. and, I want you to come with us…. with me.”

Y/N pulled her hands away from Fred’s. The skin on her neck crawled.

“Fred I- I don’t know what to say.” Her breathing began to quicken. She was panicking. She couldn’t just leave. She had friends, an education, a life here at Hogwarts.

“You don’t have to say anything right now. I just need you to know that I love you and this doesn’t mean that I want us to end.” She shook her head repeatedly, wiping away the tears streaming down her face.

Fred grabbed her cheeks and pushed his lips against hers. He could feel the salty wetness from her eyes transfer from her skin to his, and it broke his heart into a million pieces knowing that he was the cause of it.

Y/N wanted to push him away so badly. He had made the choice to walk away from everything that they had built together. How could she ever forgive him? Instead of conveying this to him, she moved to straddle his lap. He leaned against the back of the couch and placed his hands on her hips, holding on for dear life.

“Please.” He whispered.

She didn’t respond but rather pushed herself deeper against him, slightly grinding her hips.

“I’m sorry.” Was all she said, in a soft shaky tone. They both knew what she was apologizing for.

They took a moment to just look at one another.

Y/N then spoke before she had time to think her words through,

“Show me you really mean what you say. Show me that you truly love me. Show me before you go and forget all about me.” Tears flowed between the two of them.

“I could never forget you.” He said in a hurt whisper. Her eyes trailed down to their connected laps in shame, embarrassed that she was making a huge selfish fuss over his plans of a brighter future. Fred took her face in his hands and made sure to really get a good look at her before swiftly laying her flat on her back against the couch.

“Is this alright?” He asked while softly stroking her thigh. She let out a trapped sigh and nodded as she shimmied herself further into the cushions. Fred gave her a melancholy smile before leaning in and enveloping her mouth with his.

Immediately they began to collectively moan as Fred grazed his hand up and down Y/N’s goose fleshed skin and her clothed pubic bone pushed up against his sensitive groin. Just the feeling of his light feather touch had her trembling to his every will. Once he felt that her legs had gotten enough attention, he removed his lips from hers and moved his hands from her thighs as he looked down at her with a face filled with care and worry.

“Is this okay?” He asked.

His fingers were creeping up her inner thigh and past the fabric of her cotton pyjama shorts. She nodded with a soft hum of approval. She bit down on her swollen bottom lip as he began to circle her clit with his middle and index fingers. Then her hand shot up to grab his forearm at the same time as her legs tensed up with pleasure.

“Please Freddie, m-more.” She whined while using her hand to dictate his speed and movements against her sensitive centre.

Fred watched in amazement as his girlfriend laid submissively beneath him, her hair sprawled out as she shimmed and jerked about, all because of his large strong hand that was currently between her legs.

They had never had sex before. The two of them had talked about it a great deal throughout their relationship, but because they spent so much of their time surrounded by friends during school and family during the holidays, it was difficult to ever get a moment to do so.

Fred never really cared about getting caught or the idea of a quicky. He was Fred Weasley after all. Any way he could feel her skin against his was ideal. Y/N on the other hand, had always wanted her first time to be something meaningful. She wanted it to be thought out, where they wouldn’t be distrubed and could have all the time in the world to express their love for one another.

So never once did Fred imagine that this was how the night would end. In the middle of the warmly lit common room where any insomnia stricken student could walk in unannounced.

Fred wanted her to drop everything. He wanted her to follow in his footsteps. But she was her own person, and she had to make her own choices, no matter how much it pained him. At the very least they were able to say their goodbyes by finally giving themselves to each other, whole heartedly.

“I’m going to put a finger in. Is that alright?” He asked softly in her ear, intentionally making it so his mouth hovered close to her neck. She shivered at the feeling of his breath rolling off of her skin.

“Yes Freddie, more than alright.” She was his to take, anyway he wanted.

“Tell me to stop if you don’t like it, okay love?” She nodded lightly, completely under his spell.

Fred detached his fingers from her hypersensitive bundle and slowly dragged them down to swirl around the wetness that had formed at her entrance. Once she was fully prepped by his digit, he slipped his index finger inside of her. Even with one digit, he could tell just how tight she was.

“Merlin, you��re so fucking tight.” He groaned out his inner thoughts before attacking her neck again with a plethora of horny kisses.

Her jaw slacked open in pleasure and her back arched off of the sticky fabric beneath her. His methodical breathing gave her a pace in which she could thrust herself against his finger.

Fred noticed her clench and speed up her hips movements. Not wanting her to finish so quickly, he slowly pulled his finger out of her warmth, resulting in a whine escaping her lips.

“Freddie, come back. Please!” She cried out, reaching out for him. Instead of giving in to her (no matter how badly he wanted to), he slipped off of the couch and got onto his knees in front of her. Y/N sat up and faced him, looking like the goddess Venus herself.

“Off, darling.” He finally said before tugging at the waistband of her shorts. Y/N happily obliged by lifting her hips up and letting him pull the shorts past the curvature of her bum and down her legs to the floor.

“Can you open up for me darling?’ He asked gently, caressing her knees in a circular motion. Y/N adjusted herself in her seated position, the sound of the leather couch filling their ears as she shifted her hips. She then took a deep inhale before slowly opening her legs more and planting her feet far apart from each other. The draft of the room hit her, making her clench her toes for a moment.

Fred’s face heated up as he took in her glistening inner thighs and centre.

“Absolutely stunning love, really.” He bashfully admitted while stroking her spread apart thighs.

This was not the Fred Wealsey that everyone else knew. The crazy, careless prankster who had everyone wrapped around his finger. The Fred Weasley who constantly told innapropriate jokes and boasted about his pranking achievements along with his party animal ways. As he sat there on his knees, between his girlfriends legs, he came to the conclusion that he was the one wrapped around her finger. He was nothing more than a desperate boy who was hopelessly in love with the girl above him.

“All yours Freddie.” Her voice was like sweet red velvet cake getting sliced into on a warm late spring afternoon. Fred let out a soft groan in response to her inviting words before pushing himself forward slightly, preparing himself to attach his lips to her core. He slowly tilted his head to the side, allowing himself full access. His stomach contracted and he squeezed his thighs together, trying to keep the ache in his trousers at bay.

Once he was able to somewhat pull himself together, he placed a gentle kiss to her clit, resulting in her hole clenching and her hips abruptly bucking forward. She grabbed his short red locks in the process and looked down at him through half lidded eyes.

“Look at me baby.” She whispered seductively. His soft brown irises slowly shifted up along her gorgeous welcoming figure to meet her eyes, a clouded look of lust filling them. Now giving her his full attention, Fred moved on from the light kisses he was administering to fully lapping up her arousal with a new found confidence.

“Fuck.” She groaned out while jutting her hips forward and threading her fingers through his hair harshly. He sighed in contentment as he continued to watch his girlfriend unravel above him. All because of his tongue.

And once more, right before she could finish, Fred removed his mouth from her core, wetness covering most of his lower face, chin and all. Before he could make any witty comments about how spent she looked, Y/N grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him up onto the couch to lay on top of her.

His shoulders rose and fell as he panted, still catching his breath from devouring her seconds ago. His covered torso pressed against hers and they could both feel each other's hearts racing, keeping in time with one another.

“Stay with me. Just for a bit.” She pleaded quietly, sadness evident in her voice and tears sitting in the lower waterline of her eyes. Fred immediately sat up and watched her lay deeper along the couch before straddling her waist. He then unzipped his striped sweater, throwing it behind him absentmindedly. Y/N looked up at the red headed boy on top of her with so much love and admiration, moving her hands up and down his clothed chest and stomach. Fred then pulled off his t-shirt, exposing his bare upper body.

Feeling absolutely feral from seeing his lightly freckled porcelain chest, Y/N yanked Fred down by the neck to press their lips together. Most of the time when they kissed, it would be fairly contained and sweet. Now was not one of those times. Teeth clashed and tongues swirled freely making the kiss messy, sloppy and feverish.

Wanting even more contact, Fred pulled one of his hands out from behind Y/N’s head and tucked it under the button up lounge top she had on. She let out a small gasp as he began messaging one of her breasts. He couldn’t go another second without having them exposed and ready for his tender touch.

Quickly sitting up again, Fred started to unbutton the fabric with shaky hands, prominent pants of lust coming from his throat. Noticing him struggling, Y/N anxiously placed her hands over his and started helping him with the buttons.

Once the final button was undone, Y/N’s supple breasts were finally exposed. The cool air caused her nipples to harden and once Fred had fully taken them in, he brought himself down to her chest, sucking on the flesh happily.

Needy for more of him, Y/N dragged her hand down his stomach, stopping at the buckle of his belt. With a few aggressive tugs of the hand me down leather, Fred brought his hand down to help her unbuckle it, gently grazing her hand in the process.

Once the belt was removed, Y/N feverishly pulled at the zipper of his trousers. She was able to achieve the action on her own fairly quickly and began to feel around his lower section, putting her hand past the elastic band of his striped boxers. When she felt his hardened dick, a multitude of somersaults awoken within her. She was hoping somersaults wouldn’t be the only thing she would feel her gut that night.

She took him in her hand, making sure not to grip his aching member too harshly. He bucked forward and closed his eyes, letting out the most beautiful sound that had ever graced Y/N’s ears. Seeing her effect on the older boy had her stroking him faster and faster. Precome from his red tip began to seep between her fingers.

“Yes, yes!” He let slip out with a gasp, digging his face into her neck. She then slipped her hand out from his boxers and trousers, not letting him finish. It was a small act of defiance for doing the same to her earlier.

He whined quietly, nuzzling his nose further into her skin, begging for any kind of release.

“Lift up love.’ She said sweetly, which he did with very little objection. Her arms came around his waist and she pushed his trouser and boxers down more, giving her a full view of his arse as she looked over his shoulder from where she laid. She couldn’t help but stare.

Getting frustrated with the inconvenience of the material, Fred kicked off his shoes and used his feet to push the constrictive material off his lower half completely, including his socks.

Y/N and Fred were now fully naked and exposed.

“Fred, I need you in me.” Y/N begged, desperate for the feeling of being filled up by the boy above her. Fred brought himself up further on to his elbows and tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ear.

“Yeah?” He asked, needing her to be one hundred percent sure that this was what she wanted.

“Yeah.” She responded, eyes full of wonder. He couldn’t deny her what she wanted, especially when she gave him that look.

He moved his gaze down to his swollen member that was just barely hovering over her pubic bone. With a steady grip, he jerked himself a couple times to bring up a bead of precome before shifting slightly, laying the tip of his length against her lower lips.

Looking up one more time for confirmation, he was met with a soft expression on her face and her hand stroking his hair gently, giving him a sense of reassurance.

That was all he needed to continue.

He moved forward, looking down to watch his aching length disappear past the folds of her pulsing centre.

The feeling made him release a shaky breath and he laid himself flush against her naked chest, knowing deep down that he wouldn’t be able to hold himself up for much longer even if he tried. Y/N hissed when he slowly pushed himself further and further inside of her, his member dragging against her contracting walls. To ease the pain she gripped onto his toned freckles biceps. All those years of swinging his beater bat could be felt underneath her fingertips.

“Freddie,” She cooed, indicating that the pain had started to subside. Her soft words sent sharp bolts of energy through his scalp and all the way down to the soles of his feet. The sensation made him want to move instead of this agonizing stillness they were currently in.

“Ca-can I-I m-move? Fuckin’ ‘ell, can I please move?” He begged, shakiness laced within his words.

“Yeah.” She whispered, tightening her grip on the roots of his hair. He groaned at the tugging sensation and began retracting his hips, watching Y/N tense and hiss as he did so. He waited a moment and then pushed forward again, watching as she let out a prominent sigh, releasing all of the stiffness she was holding. His thrusts were small, only moving slightly back and forth so she could get used to the feeling. Every once and a while she would let out these little mewls that made him want to snap his hips. But he had to have restraint.

For her sake.

It was as if she had read his mind because as he continued his methodically shallow pace, Y/N finally spoke up through her moans.

“More Freddie. I need more.” He lifted his head from the cozy spot he had created upon her chest to look her in the eye.

“Are you sure?’ The last thing he wanted was to hurt her.

“Christ Freddie, you’re being too gentle! Please just fuck me like you mean it!”

He was dumbfounded by her words. Her begging and pleading awoke something within him and he went to grab her thigh, placing it against his hip. He then set his forehead against hers making sure their eyes stayed connected.

“Like this?” He asked confidently with a tinge of a smirk as he began to roll his hips hard against hers. She let out a loud whine and nodded before looking down to their connected bodies, biting her lip as he continued to slowly and deeply fuck into her the best way he could.

“Yeah just like that.” She responded softly, rubbing her hand along his toned and flexed upper back.

Moans and pants filled the room. Y/N was fully laid back, pulling Fred down with her. With their bodies so intimately entangled, Y/N wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing her heels against his tailbone, allowing for a new angle to emerge. He was now hitting her g-spot in this position, though she didn’t know that. To her it just felt euphoric.

It just felt right.

After a while she made it so she was fully wrapped around him when she flung her arms around his neck, clinging to him almost as though she were a koala.

“Oh my merlin, you f-f-feel so fu-fucking amazing Fred!” All he could respond with were low grunts of pleasure.

Fred began to quicken his pace when he started to feel his orgasm creep up like a distant sneeze. This had Y/N holding on to him for dear life, also feeling her own climax slowly approaching.

“I-I think I’m go-going to cum.” He spoke in broken words.

“Me too.” She replied through a gasp, gripping onto his shoulder blades that tensed up every time he pushed forward into her now overly sensitive core.

After a few more deep and needy thrusts, Fred began to pull his hips back so he could finish on Y/N’s stomach.

“No.” She breathed out, tightening the grip she had on him, digging her heels deeper into his sweaty lower back. He looked down at her with a confused but blissed out expression, still thrusting sporadically.

“Finish inside me, so I still have a part of you with me when you leave.” He stopped, completely caught off guard by her words. She wanted him to stay with her that badly. It killed him inside, especially as he watched a single tear run down her flushed cheek.

“If that’s okay.” She continued, beginning to retract into herself. She started to think that she had made him uncomfortable and had ruined the moment with her loose words. She covered her face in embarrassment, wishing she could disappear. It would be difficult though with Fred still very much buried inside of her.

Y/N was about to apologize for stepping out of line when she felt him begin to thrust into her with more vigour than before. She took her hands off of her eyes to see Fred concentrating heavily, his face turning into a light shade of red.

“ ‘m close. Gonna fill you up so well love.” Her heart swelled at his words. He was going to do it.

“Fuck, me too Freddie.” With a few more passionate and hard thrusts and a plethora of I love you’s, Fred let out a guttural groan while sloppily painting her jaw with wet, salvia ridden kisses. Then he finally spilled his seed deep inside of her. She gripped on to him roughly, jutting up against his now partly soft member as her legs shook along with her orgasm.

Fred could watch her do that all day.

They had both mostly come down at this point as Fred collapsed on top of Y/N, their sweaty bodies finding a perfect rhythm through their erratic breaths and heartbeats. No words were spoken. Instead they stared off into space, finding a sense of peacefulness in their collective blissed out state. Only the crackling fire made itself known.

Amongst all this, Y/N drew hearts over Fred’s naked back absentmindedly with her fingers. He had almost fallen asleep at her soothing touch. It was what he would miss the most. The silent recognition of love that the two of them shared.

“Freddie?”

He hummed in response, far too gone at that point to give her a coherent sentence.

“I hate that I’m asking you this but, when are you leaving?” Fred’s eyes widened and he quickly shot up to check the time.

It was one-thirty in the morning. He was supposed to meet George at the front entrance half an hour earlier.

“Shit!” He yelled as he jumped up and ran around the common room, resembling a chicken with its head cut off. He frantically collected his clothes that were scattered on the floor.

“Get dressed and grab some shoes.” He said while hopping around, attempting to get his long lower limbs through the leg holes of his trousers. Y/N didn’t ask any questions as she quickly slipped her pyjamas back on and rushed upstairs to grab an old Gryfindor sweater her aunt passed down to her, along with a pair of worn in white converse.

Once she made it back down to the common room, Fred was lacing up his shoes. He must have heard her come down because once she got to the bottom of the stairs he looked up at her from his crouched position, watching her intently as she sat on the bottom step and concentrated on getting her own shoes on.

This moment reminded him of the night of the Yule Ball and how beautiful she looked when she came down those very same steps.

She took his breath away.

Now sporting a ratty old sweater and wearing no makeup whatsoever, his breath still caught in his throat.

She had always been so beautiful.

After a moment of soaking her in for what may be the last time for a while, Fred walked over and grabbed her hand, leading her out of the common room.

“Where are we going?” Y/N whisper yelled as they stealthily ran through the dark ghostly halls of Hogwarts. The only light source they were gifted came from the full moon that could easily be seen through the plethora of archways adorning the castle’s outer walls. The only sounds being the echo of their shoes slapping against the cobblestone beneath them.

Every once in a while when they came to a turn, Fred would abruptly stop and peak around the corner to make sure Filch wasn’t creeping around in the shadows. A habit he picked up when he first became a student at Hogwarts.

“Almost there.” He stated while swiftly moving around a corner, making a non verbal announcement that the area was clear of any caretaker activity.

Y/N helplessly wanted to tug Fred backwards and have them retreat back into the common room for a second round of passionate love making. Possibly even use the Room of Requirements to spice things up. But unfortunately, things don’t always go the way you want them to. Instead she tried her best to keep up with Fred’s lanky legs as he maneuvered them through the halls of Hogwarts.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally made it to the large grand entrance of the school, surprisingly not having gotten caught in the process. Y/N could feel her legs almost give out as they stopped to look out to the vast land of grass, forest and bodies of water, partially due to the large stretch of running she had just done and partially due to the activities that took place in the common room not that long ago.

Her lungs felt cold and sore as she gasped for breath.

“What are we doing here?” She choked out, not paying much attention to her surroundings. She then stood up fully and noticed a few meters away, the other half of her lover. He turned around, travel bag in hand and Angila behind him in all her bright blue glory. The fact that the car still ran was an absolute miracle. Especially after what Harry and Ron had put her through in Ninety-Two.

Fred took her out of her thoughts as he grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him. George had a beaming smile on his face. He initially thought that the plan had worked and Y/N chose to go with them to help bring their dream to fruition. Then he noticed his older twin shake his head sadly. George’s smile disappeared and his shoulders dropped once he realised what his brother was trying to tell him.

This was goodbye.

“I hear you boys are dropping out?” Y/N called out to George as they got closer and closer to him, an attempt to lighten the mood. He let out a sad laugh as he stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets.

“Yeah, was thinking about it.” He responded leaning against the passenger door. Y/N snickered softly as they finally came face to face. She dropped Fred’s hand and pulled George in for a hug, rubbing his back to console him, feeling bad that she had gotten in the way of their perfect plan.

“You sure you don’t want to come with us?” He asked, words filled with hope.

“I can’t. I need to finish the year and graduate. But this isn’t goodbye Georgie Poorgie.” She said before pulling away from the embrace. He smiled at this and playfully rolled his eyes. He always hated that nickname.

“Will you write?” He didn’t want the last seven years to just go to waste. Neither did she.

“Of course I will.” She moved in closer and whispered,

“Keep an eye on him will you? You were always the more reasonable one of the two.” He chuckled lightly and nodded before leaning in for one more bone crushing hug.

“Bye Y/N.”

“Bye George.” And with that he retreated back into the dodgy Ford to make sure everything was in order for their journey to Diagon Alley.

“So.” Fred said breaking the awkward silence, kicking the stone beneath him, his hands shoved in his sweater pockets.

“So.” Y/N repeated in a light mocking tone. So much had happened in the last few hours that neither one of them really knew what to say.

“I’m never not going to love you, you know that right?” He finally said stepping closer so they were only a couple inches apart from each other.

“Yeah I know. Still wish you weren’t just going and deserting your education but it’s not my place to stomp on your dreams you know.” Y/N let out a sniffle, collecting a couple tears with her fingers.

“I’ll wait for you.” He blurted out. She looked up and gave him a sad smile, taking his hand into hers.

“No you won’t. You will work and work and one day some beautiful girl will walk in and sweep you off of your feet. She will be the perfect girlfriend and one day the perfect wife who will help you and George run the shop and raise your kids while you live out your dream. I know you love me and I love you, more than anything in the world, but Freddie, I cannot and will not hold you back from what I know you can achieve. Be great, focus on that. I’ll always be here for you. But I can’t be who you want me to be. I can’t be a shop owner's wife.” Tears began to trickle down both their faces by the time Y/N had finished her little speech.

“Is this you breaking up with me?” His voice was cracked and hoarse. He had thought about this being a possible outcome but chose to push it to the back of his mind, not wanting to face it.

“Yeah...I think it is.” She replied weakly, feeling absolutely guilty and awful. No, this was what was right. He needed to move on.

“You are the only woman I’ve ever loved! No one else!” He said, his voice raising.

Y/N flinched slightly, not used to seeing him this genuinely angry, not even on the quidditch pitch. How could she? The only other time he got this mad was when she was passed out cold.

“Freddie, please. Not here.” Her voice was quiet and shaky as tears streamed down her face. She then noticed George watching from inside the car with a face full of remorse. Under normal circumstances he would have intervened to protect her but he knew she was safe and this conversation needed to happen sooner or later.

Seeing her scared demeanor, Fred pulled back immediately. He hated to see her frightened and vulnerable.

Slowly, he walked towards her and gently brought her into his chest as she sobbed, placing a plethora of gentle kisses on the top of her head.

“I’m sorry Fred, I just can’t I-” She rambled as her small frame shook with tears.

“Shhh. It’s okay, no need to apologize. I shouldn’t have yelled”. His eyes closed with frustration as he let out a sigh. He was angry at himself for getting so cross with her.

“Fred?” She asked once her tears had finally subsided and she could gather her thoughts.

“Yes love?’ He kept his hands around her waist as he leaned back a touch to look down at her.

“One last kiss? Before you leave?” Both of their hearts broke for what felt like the millionth time that day.

“Y/N please don’t.” He felt as though he could cry now.

“Fred, I don’t want to argue. Just do it” She was tired, emotionally drained and not in the mood to negotiate. He let out a shaky exhale and gently took a hold of the back of her neck, leaning down to capture her lips with his.

It didn’t take long for the kiss to deepen with desperation. It felt nice and warm, but also painful. Fred moaned into Y/N’s mouth and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. In response she placed a hand on his cheek and rubbed her thumb gently back and forth against his soft freckled skin. His hand then came up to lay gently over hers. The size difference of their hands always made his heart swell.

“I love you.” He said against her lips.

“I know. I love you too.” She muttered. And with that, they separated and embraced for a couple more seconds. Neither one of them wanted to let go, but they had to.

“Bye.” She said with a weak wave once he had finally pried himself from her grasp, backing away further and further before getting into the driver seat.

He couldn't even look her in the eye as he started up the bunged up car, it would just be too painful. Merlin knew if he did, there was a good chance he would run back out to her and forget about everything he had worked so hard for.

The headlights shawn brightly, creating a stream of yellow light against the gravel in front of it. The sound of low rumbles, occasional putters and clanks drowned out Y/N’s re-emerging sobs as she watched the boys begin to drive down the path and up into the night sky. The old beat up Ford swiftly flew further and further away. Then it rippled into oblivion.

Gone.

Y/N held her sweater tightly to her shaking body as her teeth chattered, the only sound being the chilly April wind passing by. The wetness of her fresh tears brought an extra sense of coldness to her face. She stood in place far longer than necessary, secretly hoping that piece of junk car would reappear.

It never did.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Kismet {11}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Plot, Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Dialogue Heavy

Words: 7k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

Note: The musical notes emoji 🎶 signifies a song being sung. They are the lyrics.

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🎶 “But I don't wanna give up. Baby, I just want you to get up. Lately, I've been a little fed up. Wish you would just focus on—me. Can you focus on me? Baby, can you focus on me?”

 The sounds of H.E.R filled the semi-rustic kitchen as you moved around it, checking on the multiple things you were making. Her album was one of your go-to things for mellowing out. You sang along and got lost vocalizing along with her. It didn’t take long for you to forget what time it was and that you weren’t exactly alone in the house. As the song ended and the next came on, you held your hands in the air, already feeling the opening of Girls Need Love Too.

  🎶 “Honestly, I'm tryna stay focused. You must think I've got to be joking when I say. I don't think I can wait. I just need it now. Better swing my way.”

 The lyrics were hitting you as right as gospel right about now. Pulling open the oven, you checked on the treats inside, making sure they were rising just the way they needed to. After you were pleased with their progress, you checked your pots on the stove one more time, then went back to the pitcher you were mixing your famous mimosas. That was when DSVN came on, and the hypnotizing sound of the lyrics with the beat made your mind drift back to Henry, especially when the hook came on. It sounded like it was made just for you in this situation.

 For the next few minutes, you focused on trying not to burn breakfast rather than dancing or singing. That was until Santana came on, and you couldn’t help but bust out your best salsa moves to Carlos’ electric guitar and Latin flare. The song was so catchy that you quickly got carried away winding your hips and doing your best Shakira impersonation. If she were standing in front of you, you thought she’d be proud because you gave it everything you had. Before you knew it, the song was almost over, and you’d forgotten about being quiet, and were now singing along to the song as you danced around the kitchen.

 “Someone woke up on the right side of the bed.”

Your scream was loud, so loud it bounced off the walls of the room. Your head nearly snapped off your neck from the force of which you spun around.

 “Oh my god!”

 Henry stood there pinching his lips, trying to stop himself from laughing at you.

 “You scared me half to death.”

 “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I um—I smelled food and heard music, and here you are,” Henry explained.

 “Oh no, no. How long were you standing there?”

 Another smile spread across his face, and it was all you needed to know he’d probably seen the whole thing. Embarrassment filled you.

 “Oh god, no.”

 “Don’t be embarrassed. You can dance and sing. I enjoyed the show.”

 You snorted while shaking your head, trying to overcome your embarrassment. When you met his eyes again, you still saw the amusement there.

 “Good morning,” you began.

 “Good morning. What’s—what’s going on?”

 He motioned to the organized chaos around you.

 “Oh, breakfast.”

 “Did you order?”

 “Nope. One hundred percent handmade but these hands,” you replied, holding up your hands and flexing your fingers for emphasis.

 Henry’s eyebrows shot up as he approached the kitchen island.

 “You cook.”

 Approaching the same island on the opposite side, you nodded. “I cook and bake and mix and clean, iron, and do laundry.”

 Henry snorted and nodded, clearly amused by the sarcasm in your voice.

 “Cute.”

 You smiled and leaned against it, resting your elbows on the wooden island keeping your eyes on him.

 “I know I don’t look it, but they do say never judge a book by its cover,” you replied.

 Henry nodded before he spoke. “For the record, I’ve never judged you.”

 You studied him for several moments before your eyes drifted over him, taking in his tan linen pants and cream shirt. He looked good, and you almost got lost in that before you snapped out of it. Clearing your throat, you pushed off the island and looked around.

 “I’m almost done.”

 “What’s for breakfast, chef Taylor?”

 You smiled, “I’m glad you asked Mr. Cavill. We have lavender vanilla  bean beignets, scrambled eggs, sausages, and of course mimosas.”

 Henry’s eyebrows again shot up. “Wow. How long have you been up?”

 Turning from him, you dropped a few mint leaves into the pitcher you’d just mixed. “Well, I actually haven’t slept yet.”

 “So you’ve been up all night?”

 “Yep.”

 Sliding to the right, you turned off the oven and took out the beignets to place them on the stove to cool.

 “Why? Is everything all right?”

 “Yeah. I’ll be fine. I’m a night—insomniac.”

 He was going to find out one way or another throughout this vacation anyway, you reasoned with yourself.

 “Really?”

 He sounded hesitant but also surprised.

 “Yeah, most of the time.”

 You used the time he stood there in a state of shock to finish up what you were doing before turning back to him.

 “Are you going to pass out later or soon?”

 “Nope. Come on. All done. Can you grab those two?”

 You nodded your head to the two platters on the stove as you took the others walking out of the kitchen to the outdoor dining table he’d shown you yesterday. Once he saw the table that had two other platters and set place settings, he exclaimed.

“Wow.”

 “I know, but I like to cook.”

 “Everything smells incredible,” Henry complimented as he stood at one of the Rattan chairs waiting for you to sit first.

 Once you sat down, you motioned for him to begin. “Dig in.”

 A few minutes passed with the two of you loading your plates with various items. Once you were finished, you took up the pitcher and poured drinks for you both. When he brought one of your beignets to his mouth, you paused and watched him sink his teeth into it. As soon as he did, he moaned so loud it filled the space and drifted off.

 “Holy--,” he began but never finished because he took several more bites finishing his first one. Once he’d swallowed and reached for another, he continued. “How did you learn to make beignets?”

 “Well, it began with my Gramaw, but eventually, it was experimenting.”

 He bit into another and rolled his eyes into the back of his head, and groaned. “These are heaven.”

 “I’m glad you like them.”

 Covering his food-filled mouth, he spoke, “Love them, get it correct.”

 You snorted and nodded as you began to eat. The view before you caught your eye once again, and getting lost was easy. The morning was beautiful, warm, and calm, with a gentle breeze that carried the salt in the air from the nearby sea. You didn’t know who wouldn’t love waking up to this every day. It was then you realized how badly you’d needed a vacation after all.

 “You stare out a lot.”

 Henry’s voice brought your eyes back to him to find his already on you.

 “I’m sorry,” you began with a soft smile. “Another thing about me, I do that—a lot.”

 “What’re you thinking about?”

 You looked out again and nudged your head to the view. “How incredible this view is and that I can’t believe it’s been so long since I’ve taken a vacation,” you confessed.

 “Tell me about it. I was literally running on fumes. I have no idea how I made it this far,” Henry said.

 You continued to eat and fell into a comfortable silence for a few minutes before he spoke again.

 “Was there anything particular you wanted to do today?”

 “Like what?”

 “There’s so much to do. I know a good spa. There’s diving, boat tours of this incredible lagoon, wine tasting, touring, driving along cote d'Azur. You name it, and it can be done,” he listed off.

 “A lot of choices.”

 You brought your legs up and hugged them to your body as you continued to eat while thinking about your options.

 “What do you feel like doing?”

 “I don’t mind either way,” Henry quickly responded.

 That didn’t help you one bit, but you made the decision all the same. “Nothing screams vacation like a bikini, and a beach, so let’s live it up.”

 He smiled as he nodded. “All right. We have a plan then,” he said, clapping his hands.

 The rest of breakfast was comfortable and peaceful. Neither of you seemed to mind that conversation fell to the wayside because you were both lost in the food and scenery before you. After breakfast, you and Henry managed to do the dishes and clean up the kitchen together as you endured his teasing on the multitude of things you’d used to cook. As you cleaned, you caught his eyes on your body a few times, but he kept his physical distance for the most part. After you separated to get yourselves ready for your day in the sun.

 You spent longer than necessary trying to decide on the right bikini. You didn’t know if you should go demure princess or buxom goddess. You were moving and making decisions by reading him. You told yourself the night before that you’d go at his pace and take your cues from him. If he initiated touching, you’d reciprocate. If he kissed you, you’d kiss him back. If he stayed away, you would too. You didn’t want to do the wrong thing or anything, especially since you didn’t know where you stood with him. Letting your self-doubt win, you chose the middle ground on the bikini.

 Thirty minutes later, you stepped outside the villa to find Henry waiting patiently at a white Fiat convertible.  

 “Wow. Is this yours?”

 “Yep.”

 “I don’t know why I’m surprised. We have established that you’re a car man.”

 He smiled as his eyes trailed over you. “Wow. The short shorts come out, huh.”

 You looked over yourself, then back to him. “This is short? Ha, just you wait. I have even shorter.”

 “I bet you do,” Henry chided as he held open the passenger door for you.

 “It’s about a ten-minute drive to the beach, maybe eight if the cliffside isn’t flooded.”

 “Wow, you’re right there, huh.”

 He smiled and nodded as you slipped into the car.

 “All right, let’s go. I have a goal to be kissed plentifully by this French sun, so in two weeks' time, I’m showing every bit of the melanin my ancestors blessed me with,” you joked.

 Henry shut your door and walked around to the driver’s side. Once in, he pressed the start button.

 “Bring it on. I happened to really like yours…it’s sexy,” he slipped in, meeting your eyes for a few moments.

 “Did you just call me sexy, Mr. Cavill?”

 His smile was wide before he slipped on his sunglasses. “Did I? Maybe, maybe not,” he said before he pulled off, beginning the journey.

 As he drove, you relished the breeze and sun on your skin and waved your hands in the air, fully enjoying the carefree vibes you felt. Before long, you’d pulled out your phone and began snapping a multitude of pictures of the scenery, the people, and occasionally even Henry, though he probably had no idea. You didn’t want to miss the chance to see how perfect he looked behind the wheel.

When you got close to the beach, Henry parked along the cliff as plenty other cars had done. According to him, no one made a fuss about small things like that; as long as people could still pass it was all right. The laidback style was already agreeing with you. With him carrying all the bags like the gentleman he was, you allowed him to lead you across the road toward the sands of the beach and then down the shore to find the perfect spot. It took a few minutes, but when you found it, you staked your claim, stomping in the sand, marking it as yours. Henry took the initiative, spreading the oversized beach blanket using the items you’d brought with you as anchors for the corners.

 Once he’d gotten it perfect, you wasted no time pulling off your tank then peeling off the shorts your wore. You tried to keep your eyes away from him, though you really wanted to know if you had his undivided attention. The middle ground bikini you’d chosen was still a look. The cut complimented your curves, while the color complimented your complexion. You wanted to take it at his pace, but you also had to show him you were still hot.

 When you lied back on the blanket, you gawked at the ocean before you and marveled at its sparkle while the sun reflected off of it. Looking beside you to him, you found his eyes on you and his jaw slightly ajar.

 “This is so beautiful.”

 Henry snapped his head away from you and looked at the view you were just staring at. “Very,” he replied, his voice constrained as if his throat were closing. He held your bag out to you, but he didn’t look at you again.

 “Thank you.”

 You dug through it looking for your sunscreen spray. Once you’d found it, you began spraying along your arms and shoulders, rubbing the mist in working your way to your chest.

 “Why France?”

 “Huh? Excuse me?”

 “France. Why France for buying a house?”

 “Well, I have some French blood-ties; the Channel Islands has its history of it, and France is smack in the middle of there and London. I fell in love with it,” he explained.

 “Why Bandol?”

 “Oh, that’s easy. It’s still luxurious enough like St. Tropez but not as high profile. I can be Henry here and not worry someone is taking my picture.”

 You nodded and understood perfectly. It was hard being on all the time. You’d gotten so used to it that you often forgot how to be off.

 “I get it. It’s the same reason why I’ll always choose Australia and Ireland overall,” you explained.

 “I’ve only seen Ireland a few times. I think I need to go back,” Henry added.

 You smiled as fond memories washed over you of your time in Ireland. “You definitely should.”

 You sprayed your shoulder closest to him and began rubbing in the liquid.

 “Ehm, need some help?”

 Your eyes met, and you fought back your smirk. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

 “Yeah, I can help. It’s no problem,” Henry assured.

 You handed him the bottle, then turned your back to him and waited. He didn’t touch you for several moments.

 “How many tattoos do you have?”

 “Um—not sure, seven, eight maybe,” you said while anxiously waiting for him to begin.

 “That’s quite a bit.”

 “Not too much. They’re all strategically placed,” you explained.

 When you felt the sprays on your back, you held your breath and waited for him to touch you. As Soon As he did, you bit your bottom lip, trying to ignore the feeling of completeness that washed over you. You liked the feel of his hands on your skin.

 “Have you—ehm, have you ever thought about tattoos?”

 “I have,” Henry began, his voice deeper than it had been moments before. his hands trailed lower to the small of your back, and you hunched over even more, giving him more access. “I’ve just never gotten around to it,” he finished.

 Turning your head to rest your cheek on the tops of your knees, you smiled. “Too much work?”

 A soft chuckle escaped him, and you felt his thump trail up your spine until he reached the back of your neck. Two sprays hit your skin, and he began rubbing into your shoulders. A weak moan slipped out, but he didn’t pull away. The kneading of his hands became more forceful then. You were quickly losing your nerve and grip on reality. Another moan slipped from your throat, and that was when Henry’s hands stilled and rested at your shoulder blades. You felt his fingertips trace the softest pattern onto your skin before they were gone.

 “All done.”

 By then, your heart was racing, and the butterflies in your gut were fluttering below your waist. Clearing your throat, you turned back to the ocean.

 “Thanks.”

 “No problem,” Henry said before he stood and discarded his shirt.

 The action didn’t help you at all. Your jaw hit the floor as you took in every inch of him you’d spent all night since seeing the sprigs of hair peeking out his shirt. Plenty of dark hair decorated his chest and trailed down his abs until it disappeared behind his pants. A soft gasp drifted out of you, but your eyes refused to stop ogling. So you sat there looking at him and counting each of his eight ab muscles. The man had an eight pack; you thought to yourself as your throat painfully tightened.

“What’s wrong?”

 Jerking your head up to his face, you shook your head, trying to find words.

 “Wrong? Huh, nothing—um—you uh—you’re—you’re--.”

 Henry smiled as he cocked his brow, waiting for you to say something intelligible. You had nothing, though.

 “Cat got your tongue?” The humor in his voice was so obvious, and you felt like an idiot.

 “And my brain cells, it would seem.”

 His smile made you smile while trying to avert your eyes from the rock hard statue that he was.

 “Sorry.”

 Henry scoffed. “It’s okay,” he said.

 “No, it’s not. You’re a person, not a piece of meat,” you clarified, feeling awful. You were doing the same thing to him that you hated men doing to you.

 “Wait, you think I’m a piece of meat?”

 Looking back at him, you spoke, “No, but I’m sure women look at you like you’re a piece of meat and in turn treat you like it.”

 He nodded, “They have in the past.”

 Your eyes again drifted downward, but you caught yourself before they got to his massive pecs. Clearing your throat, you stood.

 “Do you burn easily?”

 “I’m a white British man, of course, I do,” Henry joked, making you snort loudly.

 “Wow, do you want some?”

 He held his hands up as if to shield himself from you. “Are you looking for an excuse to feel me up?”

 “What!?”

 Henry snorted and laughed loudly.

 “You’re kidding,” you surmised.

 “Yes. You should have seen your face.”

 You shook your head while burying your face in your hands. “Wow. That’s not cool.”

 “You were an easy target,” Henry said, turning his back to you. “Oil me up, baby.”

 You had every intention to, but the side of him from the back stopped you in your tracks for a few moments. As you slowly approached him, you accessed the entire meal that was him before you, unsure where to start. You sprayed over his back then slowly began rubbing across his skin. You couldn’t believe that even his back was as toned as an Olympian. Your brain was slowly short-circuiting with every inch of skin you touched. When you brought your hands down his spine to his tailbone, Henry groaned, and you fought the urge to go lower.

 “All—done,” you said slightly above a whisper.

 “Not quite,” Henry said, turning to face you. “My chest burns easily too.”

 Face to face with temptation; you knew you were destined to give in. it was only a matter of time.

 “I thought you could--.”

 “—Nope. You started the job, so you should finish it.”

 Smiling, you bit your bottom lip. “Does that go for my chest too?”

 Henry’s eyes dropped to your breasts and rested there for a few seconds before he looked back into your eyes with a completely cheeky expression on his face. “Well—that is entirely up to you, Ms. Taylor.”

 Like a child, you giggled most uncharacteristically. Slapping your hand across your mouth, Henry laughed at you. “Oh god.”

 You sprayed across his chest and abs but hesitated touching him. Instead, you stood there gawking at the way his chest glistened. It’s not that you didn’t want to feel. You really, really wanted to feel. You just didn’t think you would be able to not come across as a thirsty fiend. Henry waited patiently waited no doubt taking notice of how you were beginning to hyperventilate. After a minute, he took a step back.

 “Here, I’ll finish the job—this time.”

 You dropped to the blanket and laid back, trying to recover. You couldn’t believe this was life right now. You’d never been attracted to anyone like this. You never struggled like this with anyone, and that reality was a little alarming. Peeking up, you watched as Henry finished rubbing the sunscreen into his chest, spreading it along his swollen shoulders and bulging arms. Your mouth ran dry while another part of you was anything but.

 While proving to be a heightened temptation, a day at the beach was just what the vacation doctors ordered. The roaring sun, the breeze with the salt in the air, and the screams and laughs of people enjoying themselves were wonderful. You didn’t think about work not once, or anything beyond the man beside you reading a book and the book you were reading while the soft sounds of jazz drifted between you. It was perfect.

 Every so often, your eyes drifted to Henry and took in different parts of him. Everything you saw you liked, and the fact that you liked it, only helped your brain daydream even more. There were a few times he caught you staring at him just as you caught him staring at you or parts of your body. When you did catch him, it only emboldened you to play up different parts of your body. You were relieved to know he at least still found you attractive.

 When he goaded you into the water, the two of you played in the waves. The first time Henry splashed you and got water in your hair, you made gasped and pretended to make a big deal about it, which prompted him to apologize profusely. You considered it payback until you tackled him in the water, holding him underneath until he lifted you in his arms like he was Goliath. Your eyes locked, and there was a moment you thought he would kiss you, but instead, he tossed you into the water. That one action began a water war that he easily won thanks to his colossal size and overpowering strength. You didn’t mind.

 By the time you’d sat to enjoy the picnic lunch Henry had packed, only a handful of people had recognized the two of you and asked for autographs and pictures. It really was the perfect first day of vacation, and you already didn’t want it to end. After lunch, you and Henry were walking along the shore, enjoying the lull of water crashing onto your ankles like you had no cares in the world.

  ~~~~~~~~

 -Henry-

 You were gorgeous, more gorgeous than you’d ever been. You were drop dead with make-up on, but without you were a knockout. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, and he knew you had to know. There was no way that you didn’t. He didn’t start the day with any expectations because he really didn’t know what to expect, but it had turned out to be a great day. He looked across to you and took in your curled and coiled hair that framed your face and gave you an even more youthful glow.

 “So your hair is naturally curly?”

 You smiled and nodded as you turned to look at him.

 “Curly, coiled, kinky, it’s a bunch of stuff.”

 “So you straighten it.”

 “Yeah,” you confirmed.

 He was confused.  “Why?”

 With your brows knitted together, you took him in. “What do you mean why?”

 “Why? I can imagine it takes a lot of time. So, why do you do it?”

 You scoffed but didn’t speak right away. He allowed you the time to think.

 “Well—in the business, it’s easier. As horrible as it is, there are not many people who will cast the black actress with unruly hair or will have the right people who can do it properly. It’s a huge thing for black actresses, and unfortunately, can be the reason why many don’t get a role. So for me—I guess I got used to directors or photographers preferring the sleek look, so I just—maintain it. No one really cares for this,” you said, motioning to your hair.

 He understood what you were saying. Hollywood was fickle; he was living through it right now but couldn’t believe people's ignorance.

 “I like your hair right now. I like how free and beautiful it is. You don’t look—bound. You look free.”

 Your eyes met his, but he couldn’t read the look in them.

 “Oh uh—thank—you.”

 “You’re welcome,” he replied with a smile. “You should just leave it alone from now on.”

 You snorted. “Oh, is this how you want to see me?”

 He could hear the tease in your tone, “Free and beautiful? Absolutely.”

 Again the look in your eyes stumped him. Before he could ask you what you were thinking, you looked away and back out to the water.

 “What if I want to see you like this from now on?”

 He chuckled, “What, shirtless with bad hair?”

 You laughed with him for a few seconds. “Well, nothing wrong with this view at all,” you said, making him blush.

 “Oh, and for the record, your hair is anything but bad. When it’s all slicked to perfection, you look put together, but—I like the more…distressed you. You look free and boundless.”

 The smile on his lips hadn’t slipped since you’d begun your walk, and staring at you, he didn’t think it would slip. You looked away and cleared your throat, something you’d been doing a lot the entire day.

 “I’ll make a deal with you. You keep this look going, and I’ll keep this look going,” you proposed piquing his interest.

 “Do we have a deal?”

 “All right, we have a deal,” he sealed, holding out his hand for you to shake. When you did, you smiled mischievously.

 “Good,” you said before you pushed him into the water and the incoming wave.

 Shock flooded him though he should have known from the glint in your eye he’d picked up.

 “Did you really?”

 With pride and joy, you nodded, “I sure did.”

 As he stood, he wiped his face of the water and chuckled to himself.

 “As a gentleman, I will give you a four-second head start,” he announced.

 “Four seconds?”

 “Three now.”

 You squealed and ran down the beach, trying to put as much distance between you as possible. It was futile. He was fast. Once he’d counted down, he took off after you. When you looked back to see him coming, you screamed louder and tried to pick up the speed, but as he said, he was fast. In a few short seconds, he caught you and immediately began tickling you, making you scream even louder.

 “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” you shouted through bouts of laughter and screams.

 “No, no, too late for that.”

 With you in his arms, he brought you to the water facing you out so you could see the massive wave coming in. You screamed again while kicking your legs, trying to get him to drop you, but it was no use. Seeing there was no way out, you stopped screaming, but when he tossed you into the wave, you screamed until the water engulfed you. He stepped back and waited for you to wash up on the shore. When you did, he proceeded to tickle you some more until you tripped him and rolled onto him to retaliate.

 Though he hadn’t let on that he was ticklish, you figured it out and exploited it mercilessly. The tickling led to both of you playfully throwing wet sand at each other while waves knocked you down. When he grabbed you, he smeared the wet sand across your chest below your collar, making you scream. That was when you coated his chest down to his waist. He pulled you to him rubbing his chest over yours to make sure you were as lathered as he was.

 “Oh my god!”

 A wave crashed over the two of you, nearly drowning you—nearly. When the water receded, you were still there in his arms, practically underneath him. he took in your beauty, and all he wanted to do was kiss you. he almost did before he stopped remembering what had led you to this point. He was tired of proving and showing you he wanted you—wanted to be with you. It was your turn to prove to him that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. That was when another wave washed over you, dampening the mood. He was thankful for it.

 Once he was standing, he pulled you upright.

 “Ready to go?”

 You nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

   ~~~~~~~~~

-Y/N-

 After leaving the beach, the two of you walked along the shops that decorated the surrounding area. He pointed out all the places he’d visited over the last few days. He knew some of the shop owners by their names, and it was something you liked for some reason. After the first few shops, you decided to pick up something for dinner and spent the next few minutes trying to decide just what to get.

 “Any special requests?”

 Henry’s surprise only lasted a few minutes before the smile you were getting so used to appeared.

 “You’re cooking?”

 “Yep.”

 His surprise turned to awe as he circled you once. “You can pick whatever you want,” he whispered in your ear before he walked to a stack of cans.

 “Are you sure?”

 He nodded, assuring you that you were good to make the decision.

 “Do you eat a lot?”

 “Do you?”

 “Hell yeah, I do,” you said in an exaggerated tone that had Henry laughing.

 As you walked around the store, you placed various items in the basket that Henry carried. Some peppers, scallions, garlic, onions, mushrooms, and plenty of herbs followed before you walked across the way to a seafood shop. You thought about something simple like salmon but changed your mind when you saw lobsters and said what the hell. You were only going to get two, but Henry piped up and tricked you into four, citing your insatiable appetite. Deep down, you wondered what appetite exactly he was referring to, for food or him. A trip to the local spirits shop had you stocked for more than just one night.

 When you made it back to the villa, Henry was the one to carry the bags to the kitchen, not letting you lift anything but the beach bag you’d left with at the start of your day. You met him in the kitchen in time to see him hoist everything onto the island.

 “All right, you’re all set there.”

 “Thank you, Superman.”

 He smiled and helped you unpack the items in the bags, laying them out on the counters and the island. Once that was finished, you made a move to the door.

 “I’m going to take a shower. I can feel sand everywhere.”

 What was to be a relatively quick shower quickly turned long because you needed to wash your hair and treat it, so you didn’t have any residual salt damage. No one liked breaking hair. That alone usually took almost an hour. Instead of going for the full experience, you cut a few corners in the routine but still managed to complete it. After throwing on a pair of shorts and a tank, you made your way back to the kitchen, ready to cook one of the best meals he’d ever have.

 With soft music playing and a towel wrapped around your hair while your leave-in heat treatment did what it was made to, you began prepping the ingredients. The soft music and time alone gave you more time to process the perfect day you’d just had. There was nothing about it that you’d change, even down to the intense tension that was constantly between you. If another day played out the same way, you still would think it was perfect.

 “All right, I’m clean now. Would you like some help?”

 Henry stood behind you in a tank and sweats with his hair full of curls.

 “Sure, you can actually prove to me that you know what you’re doing in here,” you teased as he approached your side.

 “I’m about to knock your knickers off.”

 You snorted and peeped at him. “Promise.”

 The flustered look on his face said he just realized the land mind he’s just stepped into. Pushing it to the side, you focused on the chives you were chopping.

 “What would you like me to do?”

 Looking around the kitchen, you assessed everything that needed to be done then delegated.

 “Those veggies need to be rough diced and washed.”

 “Consider it done,” Henry replied, stepping away to begin prep. Before he began, though, he walked to one of the bottles of wine you’d just gotten, popped it, and poured two glasses.

 “A little vino for you.”

 Smiling, you took the glass. “Thank you.”

 The two of you worked together chopping, dicing, and slicing the vegetables and herbs and the seafood for dinner. Every few minutes, your eyes met, and you giggled. Once the cooking began, Henry teased you about your towel wrapped hair, saying that was how magazine covers should show you. You watched his form and how he handled his knives and liked how he moved. He handled knives like he’d been doing it his whole life.

 When you saw him perfectly Julianne cut the cucumbers you practically drooled and were ready to push him against that island. You loved a man who could handle himself in the kitchen. Pumping iron and weights and a nice body was great, but cooking dinner for someone because you care, was a supreme turn on.

 When the lobster was steaming and the potatoes boiling, you leaned beside him and watched him kneed the dough he was prepping for what he called his famous sugar rolls.

 “So mentioned you have nieces or nephews? I don’t remember which,” you began.

 “Yes. Three nephews, no nieces.”

 “Cool. What’re their names?”

 Henry smiled as he spoke, “James and Peter and Lucas.”

 “Strong names.”

 “Yeah, Nik and Charlie picked them,” he said.

 “Nik—he’s the older brother, right?”

 “Oldest. I’m surprised you remember.”

 “No girl?”

 “Ha, Charlie really wants a girl. He has a son Lucas but dreams about having a daughter.”

 “Nice. I have two nephews, Niko and Milo, and a niece Aloa, my oldest sister Miesha,” you added.

 The way Henry smiled, you could tell he liked kids. “That’s nice. Do you see them a lot?”

 “I try. It’s hard, though, with my schedule.”

 He nodded, then shifted to the sink to rinse off the cucumbers before beginning with the carrots.

 “I understand.”

 With your curiosity piqued, you decided to dive right in. “So you like kids.”

 “Love kids,” he replied. “You?”

 “Uh—yeah. They’re precious.”

 “I’m guessing you’re close to your brothers.”

 “Oh god, yes, really, really close. We talk several times a day. They’re my first call when something good or bad happens, and it’s the same for them.”

 “That’s good. I’m close to mine too. We don’t talk every day, but I try. I do have a twin, so we don’t need to talk. We just know what’s going on with each other,” you explained.

 “How is that having a twin?”

 You shrugged and put a piece of cucumber into your mouth. “It’s everyday like for me. I don’t know what to say,” you said with a small chuckle.

 “Are all the clichés true?”

 You scoffed and went back to keeping yourself busy. “What clichés exactly?”

 “Oh, you know that you feel each other’s pain and feel what the other feels, oh that you know what they’re thinking.”

 You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “It’s not like I fall down the stairs, and he feels me fall. That’s just impossible.”

 Henry nodded and moved to rinse the carrots.

 “Yeah, it’s more like a constant presence I feel. You—you never really feel alone, sort of like this constant connection or feeling like someone always has your back. We can feel what the other feels a lot of the time, but it’s sort of like a gut feeling more than an actual physical feeling. There are times he’ll feel when I’m sad and crying, and it’s incredibly annoying.”

 “I can imagine,” Henry started.

 Feeling his eyes on you, you turned to face him and waited for him to speak.

 “Does he feel everything—your moments of happiness or—pleasure?”

 Snorting, you laughed loudly, unable to keep it in.

 “Happiness, I think there could be valid proof to that. As for pleasure, no idea. It’s never been brought up but kinda creepy to think about that.”

 You both busted out laughing, realizing just how creepy it would be if there were any validity to that. Cooking together turned out to be really fun. Usually, you hated people in your space, but with Henry, you didn’t mind it at all. You didn’t mind the subtle way his body brushed yours whenever he passed you. You didn’t mind the sly looks across the kitchen when he took a sip of his wine. You didn’t mind the flirtation in the air, and when he watched you make your lemon cake for dessert, you didn’t mind that he was learning one of your secret recipes. It was something you felt you could get used to.

 Two hours later, you were bringing out one of the platters to the dining table in the yard just in time to catch Henry putting a clay vase filled with beautiful lavender and rapeseed flowers. The purple and yellow combo was so bright it looked like it belonged with the décor around you.

“Wow, would you look at that,” you began eyeing the perfectly set table. “You can set a table too.”

 His smile was wide. “I sure can.”

 “With the proper place settings. I’m impressed.”

 He ran his fingers through his hair and slowly licked his lips as he shrugged. “I didn’t go to finishing school or anything but--,” Henry trailed off, making you laugh at the sly reference to you.

 “Oh, okay, Mr. Cavill.”

 You backed away with your hands raised, making your way back to the kitchen with him following close behind. You pointed to him the items to go, and he walked with you back outside.

 “I know you think I eat a lot, but--.”

 “Oh, stop it. I am sure you have to have a high-calorie intake to maintain your Superman shape, so—ta-da,” you said, giving him jazz hands in front of the food-filled table.

 “Oh, so you’re looking out for me, huh.”

 “Of course. What else is your girlfriend supposed to do?”

 Henry’s smile slowly slipped before it reappeared but only for a second. “Girlfriend, huh?”

 Just like that, your stomach fell through the floor, fully realizing what you’d said. Now you felt like an idiot especially seeing his reaction.

 “Um—well--.”

 Not waiting for you to respond, Henry walked to your chair and pulled it out for you.

 “Uh—give me a second,” you said, bending forward to pull the towel off of your head.

 It had been well past the forty-five minutes you usually kept it on for, and you didn’t want to eat with this heavy thing on your head. Using your fingers, you combed through your curls then stood up to face him. This was practically the first time you stood before a man that wasn’t part of your family with your hair natural. You hated that you felt self-conscience about it. The look on his face was a lot different this time. His eyes were wide, and his mouth ajar.

 “Sorry. Thanks,” you said, slipping into the chair.

 Once he’d pushed you in, he sat across from you.

 “So I know you love your beer and steak,” you began with a smile. “So the steak is cooked in Guinness—a lot of Guinness.”

 Henry chuckled and assessed the steak on his plate while nodding.

 “Bon appetite.”

 Once henry put a slice of the steak in his mouth, he moaned and gave you the chef’s kiss. You knew exactly what it meant, the good ol seal of approval.

 “This is really good.”

 “I’m glad you like it.”

 After putting another slice of steak into his mouth, he nodded. “I love it. you’re a great cook.”

 “Thank you. I tried to tell you.”

 Henry chuckled, giving you a slight roll of his eyes before he continued eating. He was right dinner was good. While you ate, you enjoyed the setting sun and conversation about music, good food, and good wine. One bottle of wine quickly finished, then you were cracking open another and another. When dinner was finished, you sat there listening to the stories of his childhood where his mother played referee between five boys. The way he talked about her made her sound like a saint. It was clear to see how much he admired and loved her. That made you like him even more.

 By the time you climbed into bed for the night, your mind was racing a mile a minute, and all your thoughts were of Henry and the probability that he just might be the perfect man. That thought scared you even more than there being something wrong with him. If he were perfect, then it meant he was perfect for you, and perfect for you meant commitment, complications, and vulnerability while opening the stage for possible heartbreak. Even through the fear, one constant remained—you wanted him.

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

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[sly-merlin]

killing me- 9

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre :    angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au , smut

warnings of this chapter : smut, drinking ,mention of weapons

words :: 7k

summary : “life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”                                  

or              

                    “  curiousity got the cat hitched”

taglist :: (not tagging the old ones because they have read it already bt if u want , lemme know! )  @yiyi4657​ @sorrywonwoo​ @sillywinnergladiator​​ @suhweo​​ @exfolitae​ @minejungwoo​ @leesalts​  @mal-nakamoto23​ @ro2424​

@kafenetwork​​​​ @neowritingsnet​​​​

K.M masterlist

K.M 8  next

note:: unedited! i’m a bit busy so i’ll try to edit it before sleep!

“yuta.”

“bake up.”

Yuta groaned at the foreign force shaking him repeatedly. He moved, crashing his face further into the sheets, swatting the alien hands away from himself.

“wake up you horse!” this time yuta heard the gurgling voice a bit more clearly. Someone was trying to disturb his sleep. Staying on his stomach and titling his half body to face the uninvited guest, he made out a face that matched johnnys. His face fell flat on the mattress again until he realised what or whom he has seen! He jolted upright, squatting, to face johnny.

“what are you doing here.” He mumbled with eyes still closed, stretching his arms on the sheets.

“it’s 1p.m!why you still sleeping dude?” johnny’s exasperated voice sounded too loud to yuta’s morning self. Or afternoon!

“It’s m-” a long yawn stretched his mouth into an oval shape, that he didn’t mind covering “its my house. I’ll do whatever I want but what are you even doing here?” he completed quietly.

“why are you still sleeping. You weren’t even drunk. Get up and tell me where is y/n!”

“so you are not here for me!” yuta pouted at johnny before throwing himself on the bed again, covering himself with sheets.

“what the fuck yuta! You are not a baby and tell me where is she? Did you even drive her back?” johnny asked sternly, removing his layer of protection.

“the only thing I can assure is that I wanna sleep more. And about your big fat crush! She certainly came back with me but she was crying so I won’t be surprised if she left already.” As soon as yuta’s almost inaudible words reached johnny’s ears, he jogged outside the room, checking the lock of your room. He sighed in relief at the secured lock. You didn’t leave and he was glad.

Johnny noticed your movements when you signed those papers. He was cursing at himself for not interfering but not like it’d have made any difference! The best he could do was to make sure you were fine at the end. Regardless of the fact that your phone was switched off, he was trying it continuously since yesterday night. Countless phone calls and messages but all were futile. His anger on taeyong was just fuelling by your ignorance.

Annoyingly, he fisted his hair before going for yuta’s room again.

“is she in university right now?” he asked yuta, who was looking like a dead body with an open mouth.

“bloody hell nakamoto! Wake up!” he shouted at him, this time the sheets were tossed on the floor.

“johnny babes, just track her. Don’t shout at me. I didn’t do anything this time.”

“you seriously ate your ethics yuta. I’m not needed there so I’m staying until she’s back.” Johnny declared, making his way outside on the couches.

“not needed my ass john suh. Ate my ethics! Says the one who’s seducing his own sister-in-law.” He only muttered before drifting back into paradise.

johnny just sat there in front of the t.v, mindlessly waiting for you, unknown guilt corroding his mind and heart.

***************

Doyeon and mingi’s whispering felt like a hammer to your head. The incessant pounding was the result of some expensive alcohol and the stupid tears. If exams were not approaching in two weeks, you’d have stayed longer to sulk but their future was as important as yours and only one more week was left so you just sucked it up. Now you were eating the lunch brought by mingi while testing them for exam.

“civil laws suck.” Mingi exclaimed, hitting doyeon on the arm.

“no! your brain sucks.” Doyeon reiterated, poking his head with her pencil.

“wtf doyie! My brain is totally packed up to the brim. if you love it so much, then tell me the answer of question 6!” a smug smile made its way to mingi’s lips.

“what’s wrong with no.6 mingi?” you questioned, perplexed as there was no difficulty in the paper yet he was still looking here and there.

“umm. Non bis in idem! It’s not given anywhere. Right?” he hesitantly asked for he knew he was wrong, somewhere.

“what was the paper you wrote last time?” you tried not to unleash your anger on them, so you kept your voice as low as possible.

“double jeopardy!”

“and?”

“and?”

“what the heck mingi! Didn’t you mention the legal maxim of dj?”

“maybe not!”

“what kind of law student forgets about legal maxims duffus! Non bis in idem means double jeopardy.” You reprimanded him tiredly, not in the mood to put up much fight with him.

“sorry” he said, head hung low.

“don’t be mingi. I won’t gain anything from this. you need to study for yourself. now complete this before I give you a subjective test. Double prep is always good. Hurry up!”

A collective musical groan leaves them both, as they tend to their paper again, you drowning yourself in your own books.

*******************

Johnny and yuta were engrossed in a football match when you entered the hallway. Upon noticing you, johnny sighed in disbelief, before making his way to you.

“why is your phone switched off?” he fumed at you, hands on his waist as you poured water for yourself.

“It wasn’t charged so I left it here.” he knew he wasn’t doing his utmost in containing his irritation and your casual tone just took him off guard.

“you jus- you should have charged it dammit. I was fucking worried that something happened to you and what kind of girl travels without a phone these days!” his hand ruined his already messy hair as he ranted, the reason of which was beyond your understanding.

“it’s not that big of an issue besides I’m not clearly out of reach right!” you scoffed at him, pointing to your arm where the bracelet was hidden, under the sleeves. You didn’t mean to sound rude at his concern but his position was no better .You had every right to be querulous!

“i-you don’t understand. i just wanted a reply from you. it’s the least I deserve! Or don’t i?” his voice went down as his face lost the previous stern expression.

“I saw my phone only this morning and I was getting late so didn’t bother!” you shrugged your shoulders at him, making your way for the room.

“where are you going?” his voice rose a bit as he held onto your arm.

“in my room!” you replied, matter of factly.

“yeah! I thought you were going to greet your dear husband!” he joked, tilting his head towards the couches where yuta sat previously but he was not there anymore.

“I don’t wanna talk johnny!” you said curtly, jerking your hand away. But he was quicker as he pulled you into him, backing you into a counter.

“just leav-

“no tell me what’s the matter with you. what have I even done?” his voice was barely above a whisper, meant only to be heard by you. the rise and fall in his speech was already shaking your resolution.

“nothing! just turned a normal student into a deadly underground member. But it’s nothing big so yeah!” you replied, mock evident in your words. As you tried to leave again, his hands caught your waist as he picked you up, stationing you on the counter. He secured you against his body, restricting your movements. His hard orbs found yours as he hands tightened around your waist, making you gulp in the process. You stared back with same intensity, as if reading his next step. He lowered his front, demanding eyes never leaving yours,

“this is the first and last time I’ll be explaining myself. I don’t know a shit about why he did that. But those papers won’t be used against you. I won’t let that happen. Ever. I promise that with my life. Just have some faith in me” He whispered. Besides it being the precise validation you sought, suspicion couldn’t be helped!

“and why would you do that. Do you also have some hidden agen-

his lips felt soft as they collided with yours with urgent need to shut you up. You froze, so did he. The only movement in your control was of your hands that were tightly gripped to the counter. The silence in the air being tense, his lips stayed still and contrary to yours, his eyes were completely shut. Johnny’s light breaths fanned your upper lip as his chest heaved up and down. Neither of you made any effort to further it nor any to pull apart. Few more seconds passed and he finally detached himself, the bodies still connected. Your lashes fluttered as he palmed your left cheek, speaking in a low husky whisper.

“I promise. Just believe me and when I say taeyong won’t hurt you, I mean it. With all my heart. Can you trust me on this please?”

He was insisting yet pleading and you merely nodded, lowering your head. His delicate fingers brushed the line formed between your brows, smiling softly.

“you have nothing to worry about. with unparalleled record that we have! You ain’t getting rid of me anytime soon. Yeah?”

His breathy laugh tingled your insides and something like awe transformed his face as he felt the warmness of your cheeks under his hand.

“by any chance, are you flustered?” your face went blank at his shameless comment when he was the very reason for your current state.

“n-no!” you pushed him hard while standing straight. He staggered a bit, giggling uncontrollably at you.

“lying suits you y/n. just like your soulmate jaehyun.” You scrunched your nose at the mention.

“don’t talk about him! He’s so annoying, i’m gonna hang him upside down someday o-or turn him into a stew!”

“and feed him to yuta!” he completed. You gawked at him for a moment before joining him in his laughing session.

“there is food?” yuta entered the kitchen, dimming the commotion.

“not for you!” you snarked.

“we have food y/n?” it was johnny this time. you had almost forgot about the sandwiches that were now probably rotting in your bag. As realisation dawned, you hurriedly retrieved your bag from counter, opening the plastics from the sandwiches with a last hope to save them.

“do you know that you don’t have to be ramsey to stuff cucumber and tomatoes in a bread?” johnny shifted, taking the packages to heat them up.

“I was out of bread. So I just took the easy route.”

“lame excuse! Work better!”

“not everyone got time john!”

You strolled for your room, passing yuta in the way, totally missing the frown and cute smile on yuta and johnny respectively. Though yuta’s internals were screaming at him to open his shitty mouth, his main focus was on his empty stomach that was growling like never before.

“pass me one john!” he whisper yelled to johnny, purposely stretching the last word to satisfy himself.

“no! it’s her lunch or snack or whatever it is.” He warned, hiding the oven with his front.

“oh so you have turned a part time servant for her!” he spewed, crossing his arms against his chest.

“no dude. She’s actual-

he was about to tell yuta but he halted his train of words for he was not in the place to tell any of your secrets to anyone , especially yuta.

“she’s what? Your girlfriend?”

“I swear I’m gonna fry you someday!”

“whatever. Now give me a sandwich before she comes out. Hurry up!” yuta looked over johnny’s shoulders to count the stacked portion in the device.

“one, two-

“three. They are just three yuta! Fuck off.” Johnny knew throwing abuses wouldn’t work but hitting him with his shoulder wasn’t either! He glanced at yuta and he seriously looked miserable. Hungry miserable!

“come on-

“are you done john?” your voice echoed from the hall as you approached wearing your famous tank top and cotton shorts. Yuta cursed under his breath, opening the fridge to get himself something.

“here” johnny handed you the plate. He hit yuta’s arm to grab his attention who was practically trying to sit in the fridge.

“renjun and jaemin are cooking their special ramyeon. We’ll eat there, come on!”

“huh!” he excitedly passed johnny to pick his things up.

With yuta out of sight, his focus shifted again on you. “don’t you get sick after eating takeouts?”

“yup I do! My gut is not the healthiest one in the world. But I’ve fewer options and I do check their health certificates so no need to worry.” Your humorous reply didn’t get more than a shit face from him. He leaned again causing you to take a step backwards.

“your hair!” He pointed and you rolled your eyes like you’d see what was happening up there.

“what my hair?”

“umm. Nothing kiddo!” he said before ruffling your hair.

“aah. I’m not a kid johnny!” you shouted at him though he was just standing by your shoulder.

“oh yes you are!” he pouted dramatically and ran but not forgetting to throw a flying kiss your way. “charge your phone, I’ll call again.”

“eww!” you snapped your head to catch yuta standing behind, making faces at johnny who was standing at the front of hallway.

“oh come on you shit.”

At johnny’s comment , yuta just followed and you totally missed the way he scoffed at both of you.

****************

You were truly jumbled by johnny’s actions, innocent yet calculated. You had maintained your calm but he was aware that you were not blind towards his growing attraction. why didn’t you push him away! What was he aiming at? Questions, questions! From the very first day, all you have are questions with no concrete answers.

But Johnny was not the sole occupier of your worries, taeyong held a significant part of it. If what johnny said was true, if his intentions were not so malafide then he’d easily have skipped it. Despite johnny’s assurance, you couldn’t afford trusting him anymore. Not like you could protect yourself from losing anything but your walls would always be enclosed for him.

Your wandering mind was pulled back into reality by a message from your classmate. The date of thesis topic submission was moved to an earlier one, a week earlier to be specific. In reality, you were all starting it a few months earlier just so the pressure could be minimised but it instead felt like a strategy for your doom. You all were supposed to submit the topic and a little introduction even before the qualification exam! And obviously you were behind the so called ahead-of-time schedule. You could have wrote a ph.d worthy book on mafia and their ploys but sadly criminal law was not the option available for it. So that’s how you ended up in the small balcony, sitting on the cold floor, enjoying the evening cool breeze. Search results on both naver and google had varied from “50 best topics of dissertation in international law” to “how to know what is my area of interest?” but every try had gone to a blank page.

************

By late evening, you got bored of sitting in the balcony and room, so you decided to study with a change of setting and the only place available apart from your room was the hall. After computing various possibilities, you dragged the single seater towards the hall windows and angling the book on the window still, a much comfy makeshift study space was ready. With the newfound determination to complete the task at hand, your eyes browsed every means of information to stumble upon anything you missed earlier, ignoring the blue skies switching to the darker ones.

***********

Yuta noticed the way he was experiencing more fatigue as the days passed by. He never trained this much until he was suspended. He looked forward for it to end so he could feel the same thrill again but two weeks wouldn’t just pass in a blink! He claimed the basement as his new home trying to ignore the activities transpiring upstairs. The desire to stay with his dear roommate jungwoo was irrepressible but his ego didn’t allow him to give in so easily. He wanted to show his anger to taeyong and that was the only reason he found himself coming back to the new home more often.

He languidly passed the kitchen to use the washroom. Only when he was about to enter his room, he noticed the lightening in the kitchen and living room. He groaned at the thought of your imprudent habit of multiplying the electricity bill which eventually he had to pay! Or maybe you were just trying to instigate him! When he was about to put out the lights, he spotted the sofa and a pair of legs perched on the widow still. He took light steps to reach your sleeping figure and suddenly he felt his annoyance melting into astonishment. Your face was covered with the open, visibly heavy hardcover book whilst your half body was on the seat and half in the air with feet placed on the window still for balance that was clearly very very comfortable place for napping at midnight. unconsciously, his hand extended for the book and as he picked it up, you stirred. Panic took over him as he lost the hold leading the book to fell on your face instead. He ducked, cupping his mouth with both hands to stifle the laugh that was about to escape. Luckily you were dead to the world. Hearing no movement, he crawled for the room , getting up only when he was at a safe distance. Without wasting another moment, he did what he was there for in the first place and went to sleep, with a thumping heart that was probably due to the initial dread he felt or that’s what he thought!

**********

The bus stop being far away, you began the long trudge for neos’ house. Taeil had requested your presence two days ago , but being too busy with studying on the first few days of the week ,it was delayed. You’d have never accepted the offer if it was taeyong but taeil suggested you to take your time even though what he wanted to ask or said was important. His readiness to prioritise your convenience warmed you and it were the emotions of the moment that you agreed to him. And now the heat was burning your exposed legs and you were cursing his sweet tongue.

You knocked on the opened door to announce your arrival despite the fact that the main door had automatically detected you to lead you in. you stood there like a statue, moving your neck like an owl, waiting for an invitation but nothing. you banged it again only to hear someone’s cursing from inside.

“who the fuck knocks when it’s op-

A screeched scream met your ears as a man came into your sight. He abruptly started bowing, apologising profusely.

“I’m so sorry noona. I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry. This won’t happen again. I-

“hey, it’s totally fine. I didn’t even hear you in the first place.” You lied, saving him the mortification.

“can I come in?”

“this is your own place. You don’t need to ask or knock noona!” you entered as he gestured you to sit.

“can you call tae-

But before you could say it, he ran inside. You didn’t know or remembered his name but his face looked familiar. Maybe he was sicheng or hyuck or someone else cause you were sure you had met hyuck before!

“I was making coffee for taeil hyung. But he’s late so it’s yours now!” he exclaimed with his eye smile. it was cute and friendly.

“what was your name again?” you asked smiling back at him, noticing the little red on his neck.

“jeno.” He immediately settled on a seat, his focus fixed on you. “I’m making snacks. Do you wanna join?”

You chuckled at his innocent suggestion, “If you meant joining for eating, then I’m all in but if you want my help in actual process, then you’d die hungry today!”

“I’m aware of that but you are never late to learn anything right!”

“wow. Your enthusiasm is admirable but I don’t wanna burn your kitchen.” Your eyes were blessed with another series of his eye smile. it was contagious.

“you are here!” you saw taeil sprinting towards you.

“I’m sorry. I got caught up in the office.” His words came out breathy as he was still panting from the jog.

“no worries but I don’t have much time. I have to study for exams.”

“yes, studying is important.” He nodded before requesting jeno to get him the coffee and water, to which the boy grumpily complied.

“why the fuck is air con off! I’m gonna roast!” He whined and got up again to close the front door.

“now. I’ve two things to tell you or rather order you. you wanna eat first orr-

“no I’m fine really. Just tell me what taeyong ordered this time!” you had no doubt that it was taeyong’s doing.

“forget about that shit. Here, veto power is mine. JENO, STOP MELTING THE ICE AND GIVE ME SOME WATER!” he screamed at jeno who came out hurriedly with both water and coffee.

Jeno took a seat beside taeil but his one glare made him go back. Sighing in relief after quenching his thirst, he continued in a polite voice. “yuta told me about the card. Why didn’t you take it?”

“because I don’t want his money. I’m good with what I have. Besides every transaction related to him would lead me in trouble so why take the risk!” you sounded harsher than you intended but it wasn’t in your control anymore. Mention yuta and you’ll obviously bite!

“the account is already open. Yuta’s gonna transfer same amount of money every month so why don’t spend his money or better, give him a heart attack by paying everything with the card. He’s gonna pay and I promise, he has no say in this so he won’t even scold you!” he sounded quite cheerful which clearly indicated that none of them understood your language.

“no thanks taeil. staying away from his shadow is much safer.”

“shadow runs with the man y/n.”

“the man himself avoids me like a plague so it’s a win win here.”

“what you see is present. Nobody can ever escape a tomorrow! You are evading it today, but one day you’ll eventually face it.”

“I don’t speak quotes!”

“simple! You both collide only to cause harm to each other. For how long do you think this can work. You’ll get tired and I suppose he’d too. when you’ll stop to rest, you’d find him there but at that time you won’t have enough energy to fight off anymore. Placebo is deadly y/n!”

You absorbed his vague statement full of philosophy but your mind couldn’t harmonise with what he meant!

“honestly, I stopped hearing the moment you mentioned yuta so can we continue!”

“yeah sure. Take the card, keep it for emergencies and I’m not taking no anymore. You aren’t hearing me so I’m doing the same. and secondly, can you defend yourself?”

“defend from who exactly?”

“drunken bastards, thieves, goons or whoever comes at you with a knife!” you were puzzled at the sudden mention.

“my personality repels violence and I’ve two strong best friends.” You declared the obvious. The only drunkards you met were outside the clubs and you never went alone so the thought never crossed your mind.

“first is a lie and second is insignificant here. I need you to learn some basics so you won’t need anyone else or just to hold until help comes.”

“what the! Are you actually recruiting me or something? I don’t wanna be a party in your gang wars.” you announced, now clearly understanding what he meant in the first place.

“I’m not telling you to fight with us. You don’t have an ounce of brain do you? it’s for your own safety.”

“safety from what? I live in a rich and peaceful neighbourhood, my dear husband is a corporate of first class, I myself never even go for a simple stroll in a park then who would I even fight?”

“here ,we all are used to the danger that we face everyday. Each and every man you see here is able to dodge anything that comes their way but you.are.not. Just because they are acting like school kids with no care in life doesn’t mean they are any safer. Jeno was making coffee a few minutes ago but after dinner, he’d be going for protection fee collection with others. If shit goes down, you might not even see him again but we won’t let that happen in the first place. It’s not same with you though. god forbid if you attract the attention of wrong people for all the reasons you stated, then how are we going to help you. even if you press the bracelet , it’d take us some time to get there. till then what would you do? You can’t even probably run for more than a mile! can you?”

You just shook your head at him, too baffled to form any words.

“do you devote any time to exercise?”

“I walk enough I guess and some planks when my stomach is out too much.”

“you are no better than these boys seriously.” She rolled his eyes at your statement.

“but despite the exercise or whatever, my strength is nothing against jeno or johhny. I’ll never b-

“if you fail in strength , atleast you can be swift. Or better you can learn to handle a gun or a knife. When do you get free?”

So, that’s why he called you!

“I don’t have a minute to spare for the next 15 days. Prep and exams are more important for me.”

“no worries. We can start after that. But don’t remove the bracelet band under any condition. Some rival mafia has hired a contract killer for you. so run fast if you notice someone following you, press it and we’ll be there. till then just hang on.” Nervousness got hold of your senses as you heard his warning.

“you are fucking kidding right! was I being followe-

“yes, I’m kidding.” he chuckled dryly. “You should see your face. If it was outside the parameters of the room, you’d have passed out already. Panic only leads to death and I don’t want you to die. so do it just for my peace of mind.” You released the breath you were holding till now, feeling relaxed again.

You just nodded at his words. He sounded like some motivational speaker luring you into his lifetime guarantee program but you knew he was right somewhere. you couldn’t depend on the boys to save you from creeps for whole life.

he was good at reading minds, you thought but despite that you wanted to pour the coffee on his head for the heart attack he’d gave you a minute ago.

“it’s risk free and beneficial. What you say?”

“ok. but I don’t wanna spar with the 6 feet ones. I’ll rather learn from you.” it was your turn to cackle!

“we’ll see about that.” He rolled his eyes to the back at your obvious attempt of poking fun at his short stature

JENO, I DIDN’T ASK FOR A COLD COFFEE. MAKE ME A NEW ONE.”

********

Meeting with taeil had benefitted you in every way. The most useful presently was the topic of the thesis he randomly suggested you. “ effect and consequences of veto power in relation to international peace and human rights”.  even mr. kwang, your thesis mentor liked it as it was almost near original. Now you were just left with exams that were just a week away. Fortune was playing in your favour as yuta had been missing from past few days that saved you some extra energy and headaches that you got with his repulsive energy towards you. then there was your newfound love for the sofa that you had permanently dragged by the windows. It helped a lot in relaxing and studying and you ended up sleeping on it, nearly getting used to the cramped neck.

Unbeknownst to you, he did come back, daily. But you were just so occupied that you never noticed the slight shuffling in the midnight. it went on for days until you woke up with a blanket covering your bare legs, evidently not yours!

****************

How to start the finals? By getting wasted? No. certainly not. But birthdays are important, sometimes more than those stupid grades!

The venue for yeong’s b’day celebration was a night club, as expected from yugyeom! He need no reason to get drunk and when his s/o was herself cutting the chains, then it’s the finest deal one could get!

Loaded with university students, the party at the first floor was thundering. The hoots and roars of slightly drunk adults became deafening as soon as the cake was consumed.

“why your classmates are so fucking loud” you screamed in yeong’s ear. You both were seated at the corner on leather seats, drinking away the reality.

“with your dolphin voice, you are in no place to judge them bitch!”

“lets blame this on your drunkard mumbo jumbo!” she jumped in joy at your lame attempt, alcohol speaking out for you.

“btw where’s your boyfriend?” she questioned leaning into your ear.

“who?” you wondered who she was referring to.

“wonwoo! Who else dumbo. His whole army was invited by gyeom but I haven’t seen him yet!”

You just shrugged in response, not wanting to face him. The farther, the better. His possessiveness only elevated your fears. Now that you were bound on taeyong’s mercy, wonwoo would be calling for a danger by being with you, especially when you were incapable of returning his love.

But fate had some cruel plans stored for you. when you were ordering another drink, strong hands gripped your waist. Though beyond tipsy, the moment you touched the protective hold, you knew it was wonwoo. It was always him afterall.

“you could burn me while wearing white and I’d say thank you baby” He whispered, nibbling on your ear, shivers running down to your bare thighs at the sudden action. everyone knew how much you loved white and that’s why yeong had designed this short white satin dress which just screamed “you” and barely left anything to the imagination of the viewer. “and nothing turns me on more than your covered arms.” He continued as his fingers slowly traced the collarbones down to the cleavage, your drunken self melting into his chest. His hands worked swiftly and he guided you into a secluded part to drown the excessive noise. Your back hit a wall as his nose brushed against yours, his slender fingers siding your sling bag to hook at your hips. He bent into your lips, love filled kisses slowly smoothening into hungry ones. The taste he left on yours was of the infamous vodka that he sure had consumed in plenty of amount ,leading him to you. the pledge to keep yourself away from him broke down in figures as he rolled his hips into yours, lips syncing with the movements. His grip bruised your body, hunger lowering from lips to the bare neck. Throwing your head back, savouring his touch, you clutched his shoulders for some control. Scheduled moans became more filthy as his one hand gripped your thigh in a try to hike up your dress. He didn’t do much work as it was already climbing up your hips. A Single move and his fingers graced against your core, tingling sensation burning your whole body. The open mouthed kisses left marks on your cleavage and neck as he fingers fucked you mercilessly.

“I missed you so much baby.”  His wavering yet soft tone met your ears but everything seemed hazy as he drove in and out of you. you felt euphoria in your stomach hitting you once again as he rambled on. “ don’t ever leave me again. you are my only lu-luxury. Don’t you ever dare snatch away the only hope I have! I love you. i fucking love you!” his sped up his actions under the dress but before he could provide you the final pleasure, you came back to the reality he  had divorced you from. you didn’t love him and never would. To his disbelief, you separated yourself from his body, him staggering back with the push.

“wha-

��I don’t love you woo. This-

Your hands filled the space between you two.

“this was never about love. We need to stop. I don’t love you woo. And don’t expect anything better from me. We are over. This is over.”

Your drunken slurs made evident that though you were loaded, the senses were still intact somehow.

“no y/n. don’t do this to me. I’ll wait more if you want. A lifetime if you say. But don’t say you are done with us. I’d die without you.” his words rang like a bell as you attempted to corrected the panties and dress, waving slightly.

You jumped away from him as his words got registered in your head. Ignoring him completely, you turned to enter the blast again but his strong hold on your arm stopped you. you squirmed under him, requesting him to let you go but his confession never halted.

“let go of her wonwoo!” you circled to see jungkook standing there , anger clear in his eyes. “I am not gonna repeat.” Jungkook was indeed dangerous when he was boiling.

“why was he enough and NOT ME!” you shuddered at the raise in his voice as he jerked you away. Timely, jungkook caught you and instructed you to go inside to wait for him. And you complied but not completely.

you were hot, bothered, angry and helpless at the same time so you did what you felt like. It felt like eternity when jungkook found you gulping some shorts in the bar. His brain went haywire for he realised you would’ve reached your peak by now. He cautiously approached you, checking the level of warmness on your cheeks. You were gone and so was he.

“what did you do with woo?” you asked him in the delightfully lovable voice that he found nothing but scary. You acting cute meant it was end of the life for anyone who would witness it. He had tried to record you a few times before in the said condition but it never ended up well with the screen of his phone meeting your wrath everytime. He helplessly dragged you from the bar towards the parking area, ignoring your initial question and the urge to scold you for the whole ruckus with wonwoo.

“I’ll drop you home cutie” he exclaimed, checking the level.

“I’m no cutie! And what about minjunie. And I don’t wanna go with you. I wanna be alone.” He giggled as you pouted at him, a rare sight to behold.

“yeah yeah I know you wanna be alone and blah blah but its past 11 already -

“soooooo. The protocol shall be followed despite the severi-

“shut up! You are not in a class dude. N hurry up, I’ve to pick minjun’s drunk ass as well!”

The discontent in his tone was apparent while he showed you the way forward. continuously wrestling against his strong hands, he finally gave up when you almost tripped over nothing.  

“stop annoying me y/n!”

“am i?” you pouted at him. “I don’t wanna go with you. don’t you understand!” he rubbed his temples in desperation.

“fine I’ll call someone else. But you can’t go alone.” But as he was fishing out his phone, you were gone.

After five minutes he spotted you outside, waving for a taxi.

“why are you so difficult?” his words fell to deaf ears. Watching you continue your frolics, he thought about giving up as a scheme formed in his head. Stopping a taxi , he ushered you in the back seat, moving to talk to the driver instead.

“no you aren’t coming!” you cried, showing your head out of the window. He grabbed his hair in annoyance, narrowing his eyes at you, “I’m not coming with you my mother! Let me give the address to the driver or else you’ll end up nowhere.” He pleaded, clasping his hands, bowing at you.

You giggled pleasantly at his gesture, hands flailing at him. “I don’t live in campus. I’ll give you the address. Wait!” after searching for your phone, you showed him the address saved in the notes app. That indeed surprised him for he wasn’t aware that you changed but decided against asking you. if it was not your new address, it could be trusted enough to be safer as it was saved under “my home”. Commanding the driver with an extreme firmness, he went away. Even in the drunk state, you were sure to some extent that maybe car was not moving.

“let’s go uncle!”

“your friend told me to wait.” you threw your head back realising that kook was upto something. A loud horn heightened your senses as the car moved.

Asshole, you muttered, grasping that he was clearly following you.

***************

“bop bop!” an eternity has passed for you in a futile try of remembering the password. The digits were changing their positions, as you regarded them.

“bop bop!” you tried again, mumbling to yourself, not knowing that you were not even banging the door in the first place. Standing still in your intoxicated state, arms crossed, the daggers you were throwing at the door would give any passer by a food to laugh but unluckily, there was noone there.

Bobbing your head from side to side, you started walking down the corridor, coming back at the your own door every few minutes. Curiously you pressed random button near the keypad. It was a bell, that you didn’t noticed earlier.

“wh- noona! You are here!” it was jaemin. He hugged you tightly before letting you in.

“duh! I’m waiting from last ten years but you won’t open.” Another giggle let jaemin known that you were in inebriated state.

“you are drunk.” He whispered.

“shhhh” you said , throwing your heels.

With jelly legs, you wobbled to the kitchen, catching attention of each and every presence in the living room and there were many of them.

“oh hiya! Home tweet home.” You chanted, hands waving like the wipers of a car. Hyuck and mark greeted you while jaehyun just sat down again, shaking his head in disbelief. However yuta was stunned and hooked to his place. He saw you navigating to the fridge, dropping the bottle, picking it up again, gulping it down, jaemin snatching it from you, apparently for you own benefit.

Jaemin guided you for your room before you got distracted by yuta’s figure staring you down.

“moshi moshi. Don’t you have any Japanese to throw at me today.” Yuta heard jaemin and others snickering as you slurred, walking unsteadily to him. He simply rolled his eyes, waiting for you to complete your attack.

“oh hi hyuck. I heard you don’t change your underwear for years. Go and take a bath right now. Asap” the liquid jaehyun was drinking, came out as a spray from his nose at the insult. Everyone was laughing at your antics except yuta. He scanned you up and down, eyes fixating on the fresh hickies on your visible neck.

“and you moshi moshi. You a-act like an angry young man all the damn ti-time,” hiccups started in between, “ but answer me with your half braincell- what kind of criminal you are! Atleast hid your face while shooting people dude.”

Yuta’s jaw cletched at your use of words, tension rising in the room. His neutral face changed into an angry one as you went on and on, all while poking his chest with your forefinger. “and that knife of yours! What are you? a street goon who hires little kids to scan cctvs for the-

And your body lunged forward, head resting where your finger was, passed out. Yuta’s red eyes didn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Anger radiated his body as he removed hands from his pockets to push you off but mark scooped your sleeping figure in his arms, signalling jaemin to open the door. After finding the key in your purse, mark laid you on the bed, rolling you to the side as jaemin placed a pillow behind to save you from falling.

They arrived in the hall only to find yuta already waiting for them.

“what was the need to baby her? She’s an adult and got drunk at her own expense. Didn’-

“so what hyung? Why are you making it a big deal!” mark replied.

“she is the one who makes everything a big deal. Didn’t you just hear how she was just trash talking about you all! She never fucking leaves a chance to spit at my face that I am a criminal –

“that’s what we are! We are damn criminals and she doesn’t know anything about us”

“but she says it like we are not even humans-

“I don’t understand why are you always throwing her under the bus hyung! Drunk people speak shit and she was totally hammered. Just let it go! Your punishment is over after two days, don’t spoil your mood over something so silly.”

“you can’t ord-

“yes I can and will order you because I agree with her. You do own just a half braincell that is not letting you think properly. Now don’t you dare mention all this to her in the morning.” Several pairs of eyes wandered between yuta and mark as the air became more pressured.

“so you do admit she is in wrong here hmm”

“she was just acting with her pure conscious. She saw a man dying and went to police. Tae hyung just made sure that she isn’t leaving anytime soon. She is trapped with criminals. What else do you expect from her? I know exactly what you want.” Suddenly mark’s eyes softened as he went on.  “You are craving empathy hyung. This is what I have seen in your eyes from the first day. You want everyone to realise that you are also wounded. You don’t despise her in actual but just the sympathy that wasn’t given to you in the first place. Stop acting like a stone. While blaming her you shouldn’t be forgetting that it was supposed to be me. You filled my spot as the killer. It started with me-

“no ma-

“it all started coz I was dammit feeling too sleepy to finish that contract killer. It was supposed to be a sniper attack but you had to go instead-

“I forgot my cover mark. How are you the cause when the problem was my own stupidity in the first place!” yuta shouted, tense silence following. Mark smiled a bit at him before continuing.

“then why do you hate her so much. shouldn’t you be hating me for sending you there or yourself for being careless. We should be compromising, not her. Just stop fighting with running water.”

He quietly said before picking up his jacket, going out. Everyone took that as a cue for leaving as well. Nobody uttered anything. The house was empty but mark’s words echoed in the space for entirety of the night, squeezing yuta into the reality he wasn’t ready to face.

*************

Your head felt like it was carrying all the weight of the world. Light harmed your vision, footsteps made you dizzy as you treaded for the door. Kitchen was suddenly too far away, everything looking too large for the squinted eyes. Water and sugar! two things circled in your head like a mantra, only until you felt a sharp pain in your waist. You slightly cursed the counter for bumping into you and stepped further to get water. the water soothed only your throat, stomach still craved sugar so you placed the large bottle on the counter, returning to open the fridge.

Some shuffling around the corner woke up yuta, who was resting on the couch. It hasn’t been more than few hours that he finally let himself immersed into the dreamland. His night and half of the day was spent in unearthing the deep hole that mark had thrown him into. He got annoyed at himself for failing in reaching a conclusion that would led to mark being wrong and it was the result of this constant thought provoking activity that he was having a persistent headache. He grumbled at the stiff neck as he got up. 13:03. Another sound came from somewhere, stimulating his body to check. With droopy eyes, he noticed you. actually half of you as the other half was searching for gold in the fridge. The hiked up dress was enough to give a free show of your bare legs without any strain. The thought of you eating his food wiped up all the drowsiness, making him go to kitchen.

“its not your bedroom. Close it.” He criticised, yawns escaping simultaneously. You didn’t move for his voice didn’t reach you in the first place. He tsked at your lack of senses as he neared you. but as soon as your figure got larger, his body met the floor brutally, several groans of pain leaving him. You turned around at the noise to see yuta struggling as his knee hit the polished hardwood. His other hand went to the counter for some support but it slipped causing his elbow to hit the cabinet handle more violently. His shout of anguish striked through your sensitive ears, making you swear in irritation.

Your eyes slowly traced the liquid under his body to the top of the counter. the water bottle. It was tilted and empty by the time you noticed and the water was what made yuta slipped in first place.

“fuck it!” he growled, discomfort contorting his features.

Slowly he moved himself to the other side, bruised elbow secured in his hand, grunts exiting him. You knew you were fucked up as soon as his cold eyes fell upon you.

“I guess it’s my time to call taeyong.”

[adam-memeleri]

Rainbow

Rosie’s always liked rainbows. Liked the beauty, the wonder, the ethereal, indescribable nature of the array of colours painted on the sky and clouds. She’s always liked the possibilities held within those colours, always liked what they meant, always liked the way the world seems to stand still when you find one after a storm, frozen for something so magical.

Hope reminds Rosie of rainbows.

-

okay so i actually really like this one and i think it shows. also thank you @bubblelaureno for proofing and fixing my feeble attempt at past tense you are so very lovely

tagging - @bubblelaureno @lookingforsomethingcuzimbored

if you wanna be tagged

Masterlists shameless self promotion lmao

T Rating (its mostly fluff, but there's sick if youre not cool with that)

Hope x MC (Rosie) or rope if youre chichi

~7k words this took an alarming amount of time to finally fucking finish, so take it for what it is

-

Like the sweater that blocked Rosie’s view of a lecture one morning, red. Like the tapping nails she couldn’t stop watching, red. Like the sensation of being mesmerized, hypnotized more deeply than when watching the sun slowly creep higher above the horizon, red.

Her eyes roved over the carefully organised materials - pens, notebook, laptop - all set in a specific place. She watched the nails halt their tapping, scribbling out notes in what she could only assume was perfect handwriting. She couldn’t imagine this girl doing anything less than perfect, less than meticulously planned, less than plain stunning.

Although her face was obscured, Rosie could picture the expression painted across it. Could picture a focus that could knock you down and heal your bruises all at once. And it intrigued her, left her wanting to see it for herself, and she angled her head to glimpse as much as she could.

The red sweater rose abruptly, just as Rosie was about to peek, and Rosie knew she should as well, knew that the drone of the professor had disappeared and she had another lecture not too soon, but she couldn’t manage it. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her, her stupid desire to see if she was right about this girl.

The red sweater rose abruptly, just as Rosie was about to peek, and Rosie knew she should as well, knew that the drone of the professor had disappeared and she had another lecture not too soon, but she couldn’t manage it. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her, her stupid desire to see if she was right about this girl.

She turned, her eyes landing on Rosie’s, and Rosie could have sworn her heart stopped. She was surprised more than anything, to find eyes boring into her own so fiercely, her eyebrows knitted together in momentary confusion. Before she whisked herself away, with a bag thrown over her shoulder and Rosie left behind, simply gawking after her.

After all coherent thought had left her mind, Rosie jumped to her feet and scrambled to collect her belongings, haphazardly she shoved them in her own bag and scooped them in her arms before darting out the room. She found that red sweater as it exited the building, nearly lost in the sea of students.

Elbowing her way through the crowd, Rosie managed to nearly catch up, stumbling a little ways behind as she called out, “Hey, wait up!”

The girl’s eyes searched over her shoulder before she slowed, peering over at Rosie curiously as she fell into step beside her.

“Sorry, I, uh…” Rosie fumbled over her words, gesturing awkwardly as she sought to clear the air, a blush staining her face. “I didn’t - That wasn’t - I wasn’t staring.”

The girl side-eyed Rosie, lips quirked in a tiny bemused smile at her feeble attempt. Her fingers toyed with a ring, spinning it around one finger in a steady rhythm as her free hand held the strap of her bag.

“Really! I wasn’t!” Rosie insisted uselessly.

Her grin grew as she hummed teasingly, “Mmhmm.”

“Look, just -” Rosie’s shoulders sank in a sigh, shaking her head in exasperation, but with a smile of her own. “I’m Rosie.” She tried, her voice having steadied.

The girl smiled invitingly, in the type of way that drew Rosie in, left her wanting more as dazzling eyes crinkled enticingly. “Hope,” her sweet voice rang, with all the power of a declaration but none of the demand.

Rosie nodded mutely, her braids shifting with each shake of her head. She opened her mouth to say smoothing, but, at a loss, she clamped her jaw shut.

Hope didn’t seem to mind, her eyes adjusting forward as they walked side by side, the gap between them like a canyon to Rosie. She swallowed, fixing the book under her arm, “So, uh, have you always been in that class?”

“Yes,” Hope nodded coolly, “Someone stole my usual seat today, though.”

“That… That sucks.” Rosie’s lips purse to the side as she nods along.

“Actually,” Hope’s voice drawled as she peered up at Rosie out of the corner of her eye. “I seem to recall there was an open seat beside you.”

“Oh! Yeah, I keep it open for a special someone,” Rosie’s lips quirked in a crooked grin, her typical playfulness finding its way back to her.

“And who would that be?”

Bolstered by Hope’s own teasing, she winked, her cheeks dimpled from her smile. “I’m hoping I’ll find out soon enough.”

“Maybe you will.” The pair fell into a companionable silence as they walked, neither a word exchanged or a beat of awkwardness filling the space. Rosie’s eyes roved distractedly, sneaking glances at Hope every chance she got and darting away when she got caught.

And every time Hope smiled to herself, and every time Rosie’s cheeks heated just a little more. It was quickly becoming a game, to see how long it took for Rosie to get caught, and with each glance she found herself hoping they'd continue the game on a later date.

Hope paused in her tracks suddenly, turning to face Rosie more fully as she adjusted her bag on her shoulder. “This is my stop,” she gestured to the lecture hall they were standing outside of, students filing inside. “It was nice to meet you, Rosie,” she grinned, stretching her hand out in offering.

Rosie’s own eagerly clasped it, shaking the offered hand perhaps too forcefully. “You too!” She promptly dropped Hope’s hand, a flush on the back of her neck as she shifted from foot to foot, gaze dropping to stare at the floor. “Um, see you next week?” she tried, glancing up from beneath her lashes.

“As long as you keep my seat available,” Hope teased easily, as if this was a common occurrence in her daily life. And Rosie supposed it may be, that maybe there’s always someone following her around with wide eyes like a lost puppy.

In response, Rosie nodded vehemently, mouth curved in a barely suppressed grin as Hope laughed lightly, already turning away. She stalked inside, head held high and shoulders thrown back with a confidence that can’t help but catch your eye and one that Rosie couldn’t tear her gaze away from.

Like the sweater that disappeared into the hall, red. Like the heart that berated Rosie’s ribcage, red. Like the lips pulled into an impossibly wide smile, as much as she fought it, red.

Orange

Like the socks that covered kicking feet, orange. Like the setting sun outside, the watercolour of clouds, orange. Like the pen that scrawled on paper, jotting down notes and doodling when the words wouldn’t come, orange.

“Pop quiz!” Hope announced, flourishing a card and adjusting upright. Open textbooks, loose papers, a discarded laptop, and a dozen markers litter the bedspread around her.

Rosie groaned, faceplanting into her notes and sending a multitude of colourful pens scattering. “You’re incorrigible!” she whined into the paper, her hand that had been previously writing limp by the notebook.

“You asked to study! I’m studying!” Hope defended with a slight laugh, motioning with the brightly coloured flashcards in her hands.

Rosie’s head flopped to the side, cheek pressed into still-damp orange inked scribbles. “Clearly by study I meant halfarse rereading notes so we had an excuse to hang out.”

Hope paused for a beat, scrutinising Rosie from across the bed. “You needed an excuse to hang out with me?”

“Would you have agreed otherwise?”

“No,” she slowly answered. “But that’s just because I needed to study.”

“There is not a doubt in my mind that you were the most extreme teacher’s pet,” Rosie teased, pushing upright just to slump backwards, elbows positioned to support her weight. “I can picture it now, little Hope avoiding recess to do menial tasks.”

With a wistful sigh, Hope abandoned her flashcards, leaning back herself. “Oh, those were the good ol’ days.”

“Nerd.”

Hope clicked her tongue, fond exasperation etched in her face and soaked into her posture. “Well,” she drawled, climbing off the bed and popping to her feet. “Since we’re already taking an impromptu break, I’ll be right back.”

She disappeared out the door, leaving it wide open and lightly swinging on its hinges. A heavy sigh melts Rosie’s muscles as she stretched out on the bed in her absence, legs nudging the multitude of study supplies surrounding her.

She glanced about, eyes bouncing around curiously at the array of objects held in Hope’s bedroom. From the vanity, to the assortment of bottles and items splayed atop the dresser, to the meticulously organized bookshelf of textbooks and fiction, it was as if Rosie was getting a glimpse into the girl.

And somehow she felt there was more to uncover than ever before. From the tattered jacket full of memories draped over a chair, to the photo frames littering every available surface, to the picture book given prime shelf space, there’s so much life in the room that she’d never even heard about.

Hope stepped back into the room before her imagination could run truly wild, juggling a water bottle dotted in flower stickers and a few oranges. She dumps them all on the bed, tossing one of the small oranges to Rosie.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, catching it lightly.

“Mmhmm,” Hope hummed out of reflex as she jumped up to the bed, kicking her legs over the edge and toying with the lid of her water bottle. “You know, I don’t get why you of all people are a business major,” she commented, glancing up as she takes a drink.

Rosie chuckled, picking at the stubborn peel and pulling off chunks. “What makes you say that?”

“You just seem… not… businesslike? I don’t know,” she groaned, dipping her head to hide her face as Rosie laughed beside her.

“I think I’m plenty businesslike.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s cheeto dust on the edge of your notes.”

“Ah-ah-ah,” Rosie waggled her index finger, “Cheetos are made by a business, therefore, they are businesslike.”

Hope’s mouth curved in a grin, lips pressed together to try and stop it’s spread. “You should be an attorney instead.”

“Nah, it just wouldn’t be fair to the other lawyers,” Rosie’s tone was casual as she popped an orange slice in her mouth, speaking through it. “Like a pro athlete playing with a kiddie team.”

Hope snorted, her hand clapped up to her mouth as she fought a loud laugh. “You'd be a force to be reckoned with in a courtroom, I’m sure.”

“I’m telling you, I’d be unstoppable. Just sue everyone else before they can sue me!”

“I don’t think that’s how that works.”

“Well, you’re not a lawyer, are you?”

Hope’s hands raised placatingly, but the smile on her face was evident of her amusement. “Alright, alright you win.”

“What’s my prize?”

Hope’s face scrunched up as she considered, one nail rising to tap at her chin. “What do you want?” she finally responded.

“To not study.”

“Alright, I get it.” She closed the textbook she had been reading from and tossed it onto a nearby desk chair, sitting straight and peering about for a distraction. “You want to watch something instead?”

“Yes! No books! No words! No unreadable handwriting!” Rosie cheered, shoving her own notebooks and laptop across the bedspread in a dramatic show.

“That’s your handwriting that you can’t read.”

“Exactly!” her hands waved, eyes wild before her palms slapped down onto the duvet, “Do you see how mad this has driven me?”

Hope rolled her eyes, tossing a pale orange blanket over Rosie to quiet her, “Every day you get more over the top.”

Snickering, Rosie pulled the blanket off her head and scooted backwards until she hit the headboard. “Stick around and maybe you’ll find my limit.”

“Trust me, I don’t plan on going anywhere,” Hope joined her on the bed, tugging her laptop to rest before them. “Now here, since you’re sticking around too, let’s watch something.”

She started scrolling through a streaming service, clicking on random descriptions but never staying long enough for Rosie to catch up. She moved fast, but with more purpose than anyone Rosie had ever met. Every sharp action was backed by a precise thought, every decisive selection marked by careful consideration.

She finally clicked on some random sitcom, beginning to settle against the headrest and Rosie’s side. The blanket only exacerbated the heat between them, and Rosie found herself spending more time attempting glimpses of Rosie than she spent watching the show.

Like the scattered peels and smudged ink of abandoned pens, orange. Like the blanket draped over their laps, orange. Like the sensation of sunlight blasting away all your worries, orange.

Yellow

Like the sunshine on Hope’s skin as they laughed in the park, hours disappearing under the sun, yellow. Like the water bottles filled with too-sweet lemonade, yellow. Like the checkered blanket they lay on, sprawled across it and speaking softly beneath the sky, yellow.

“Ooh, look at that one!” Hope pointed at the sky, index finger outstretched toward a cloud floating in the distance. It was filled with them, the white blending with pale blue as they floated above the world, unbothered by the affairs of the ground.

Rosie’s eyes scanned futilely, following Hope’s finger to the expansive sky, “Where?”

“There!”

“Hope,” Rosie laughed, a lightness in her heart, “there’s like a hundred clouds, I need specifics.”

With a sigh, Hope’s hand wrapped around Rosie’s, their fingers tangled together as she gestured above and to the left. She angled Rosie’s finger, slipping closer on the picnic blanket to direct her line of sight. “That one,” her voice was quieter as she squeezed the hand in hers.

The breath left Rosie’s lungs at their proximity, at the gentleness always present in Hope’s voice, but especially so now. She tore her gaze from the warmth in Hope’s cheeks to search the sky, finally finding the shaped cloud. “A heart?”

“Mmhmm,” Hope hummed, squeezing her hand once more.

“Cute.”

“I know, right?” Hope turned briefly, her face still set in a bright grin before she was back to staring at the sky and all it held within it.

But Rosie wasn’t paying attention to the sky anymore, she hadn’t been for a while. Her eyes were glued to the smile on Hope’s face, the way her eyes flitted from cloud to cloud, the way her bottom lip slipped between her teeth, the way she refused to release Rosie’s hand.

“Do you come here often?” she supplied to fill the silence, breaking a tension only she may have felt.

Hope’s gaze flicked back to her, sparkled with amusement.“Is that a line?”

“Just making conversation.”

Hope chuckled beneath her breath, turning back to the puffs in the painted sky. “Not really. Used to when I was younger, but you know… Classes, work, responsibilities… They don’t really leave time for an afternoon of watching clouds float past.”

“Do you wish you could do this more?”

“Always.”

“Then I’m glad I could help, even just a little,” Rosie grinned, easy and relaxed as she nudged Hope’s shoulder with her own.

“Me too.”

Rosie settled back, letting the blues and whites and greys and yellows of the day fill her eyesight, a collision of pastel colours before her dark eyes. Occasionally, Hope’s hand would brush her own, or her elbow would nudge Rosie as she shifted, and every time it was like a shot of sunshine right into her veins, stronger than pure adrenaline.

“It’s getting kind of dark,” Hope mumbled after a long stretch of silence, a quiet only disrupted by the occasional murmur.

Rosie’s lashes had fluttered shut, the soft breeze and noise of the park enough to lose herself in. “The forecast said no rain,” she answered, followed by a groan as she stretched her limbs on the checkered blanket.

“You sure?”

Rosie shrugged, “That’s what the weather girl said.”

“Which weather girl?”

“That annoying one, Blaire or something.”

“You trust the annoying weather girl?”

“I trust science,” Rosie retorted. “Also that Swedish news anchor. He trusts her, and I trust him. He’s very trustworthy, I’ll have you know,” she elbowed Hope to accentuate her point.

Hope sighed, reluctantly mumbling out an agreement, “Alright.”

Everything stilled once more, their little corner of the park unbothered by the rest of the whirring world. Rosie’s arm rose to cover her face and block out the lessening sunlight, the day seeming to have spent both her energy and the available sunlight.

A drop pinged Rosie’s forearm as it lay overtop her face, a prick on her skin. Then another. And another. Until raindrops began to soak her skin, her clothes, the blanket that was beneath her and Hope.

“Shit!” Rosie sprung to her feet blindly, scrambling as the onslaught of water kept coming, and coming.

Hope was in a struggle to get to her feet as well, grabbing wildly at discarded water bottles, phones, a jacket - whatever lay in her reach. “Get the stuff! Get the stuff!”

“I am, I am!” Rosie grabbed the checkered blanket, shoved it into the backpack she had brought along as Hope piled up the little containers of snacks.

Digging in her own bag, Hope blinked up at Rosie in a brief panic, “Hurry!”

“Would you -?” Rosie swatted at her with the edge of the blanket, her words dying as she dissolved into laughter.

“Rosie!” she chided, waving away the swat as she finally found what she was looking for. She stood straight, shrugging her bag over her shoulder and fiddling with the object she pulled from it.

“C’mon!” the taller woman laughed, “This is funny! We get one afternoon to ourselves and it literally rains on our parade!” she gestured around, spinning to encompass the whole park in the motion, every drop of rain spilling down on it. “That’s funny!”

Hope’s lips pressed together in a smile as she stepped forward, opening an umbrella and bringing it up to cover their heads. The bright yellow fabric echoed with each falling drop, but it was enough to prevent their soaked clothing from worsening.

“A little late for that,” Rosie chuckled from within her chest, heaving her hefty bag up her shoulder.

“Better late than never.” Hope paused, pursing her lips to the side as her free hand rose, brushing off a piece of wet grass from Rosie’s chest. Her touch lingered, the heel of her hand resting lightly.

“Hmm?” Rosie questioned wordlessly.

Hope’s fingers tightened in the front of her shirt, determination sparking in her eyes. “You want to go out sometime? For coffee, or lunch, or dinner?”

“I thought we already did that?” Rosie teased with a small smile.

“We do… But I was thinking it’d be a little different this time.” Hope’s eyes shimmered as they met Rosie’s from beneath heavy lashes, rain still shining like diamonds on them, on every part of her face.

Rosie smiled at the suggestive tone of the words, her expression so wide and bright, brighter than the umbrella held over their heads. “That sounds nice,” she feigned a casualty that wasn’t there, the smile lines around her mouth a dead giveaway.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, wet hair framing her face.

Hope’s face broke out in a smile to match Rosie’s, unrestrained under the transparent yellow umbrella over their heads. “Come on, then,” her hand slipped into the other girl’s, and she tugged Rosie towards a nearby awning, hands swinging lightly between them.

Like the shirt plastered to Rosie’s skin, soaked and damp, yellow. Like the umbrella that sheltered them from the storm, a brilliant, shining safety net, yellow. Like the happiness in her chest, bubbling and pounding inside her, yellow.

Green

Like the smile on Hope’s lips, as lively as a budding flower, green. Like the backdrop behind her, the painted walls and masses of house plants, green. Like the nausea that swirled in Rosie’s gut, foul and unsettling, green.

She lurched forward, stumbling to her feet before she darted across the flat towards the bathroom, slamming the door shut just as she collapsed to her knees. She retched, fingers gripping the edge of the toilet as bile stung at her throat.

With a moan, she slumped against the seat, eyes fluttered shut as a pounding in her head drowned out most of the flat. The brief ordeal weighed down her limbs, left her exhausted and drained on the bathroom floor.

“Hey, Rosie?” broke through her haze, a gentle question from the other side of the door.

She sighed, groaning out a “Hmm?”

“You okay in there?”

“Just peachy,” she chuckled weakly.

There was a brief pause before Hope’s voice returned, hesitant but laced with a caring that warmed Rosie’s heart, cleared her head momentarily. “I’m going to come in,” she announced, the knob twisting.

Rosie groaned once more in response, slumped against the toilet with her hair spilled over her shoulder in a messy flow. Her shirt now hung off her body awkwardly, a thin sweat having begun to coat her skin.

A cautious hand found her shoulder, squeezing lightly as Hope settled beside her, careful not to jostle her. “Are you sick?” her fingers delicately brushed over Rosie’s face as she spoke, tucking a stray braid behind her ear, her thumb running lightly over her cheek.

“No, I’m healthy as a horse, that’s why I’m voluntarily sitting with my face in the toilet,” Rosie bit back, more heat in the tone than ever before.

Hope huffed, her hand retracting from Rosie’s face and the taller woman immediately regretting the harshness of her previous words. “Quit with that for a second, would you?”

“Sorry,” she mumbled, turning to press her cheek in the crook of her elbow.

“It’s okay, just…” a sigh drooped Hope’s shoulders as she softly pressed the back of her hand to Rosie’s forehead. “What happened? Did you eat something bad? Were you sick earlier?” Her hand brushed over Rosie’s face repeatedly until she was swatted away.

“I don’t know,” Rosie brushed her off, pushing upright and slumping forward. “I was fine, I swear.”

“Do you need anything?” the smaller of the two continued to fuss, eyes searching for a visible cause of the crease between Rosie’s brows. “Oh - I’ll get water, I’ll go -” She awkwardly jumped up, bouncing back and forth on her feet in uncertainty for the girl on the floor before darting out the door.

She returned a few moments later, dropping back to the tile floor with a bottle of water and damp washcloth in her hands. “Rinse,” she instructed gently, pressing the bottle into Rosie’s grasp.

And she did as told, taking a swig and swishing it around her mouth before she spat into the toilet bowl. She repeated it a few more times before she scooted away, her thigh brushing Hope’s as her head dropped to Hope’s shoulder.

With her palm softly tracing Rosie’s spine, Hope didn’t dare move for a long moment. “You okay there?” she whispered, exhale brushing along Rosie’s forehead.

“Except for the spinning…” her head rolled in a tiny circle gesture, “everything, yes.”

“Can you stand?” Hope shifted onto her knees, still supporting Rosie’s weight carefully.

“I vomited, I didn’t break a leg.”

“What did I say about the sarcasm?” she sighed, “I’m just trying to help.”

“I know,” a groan fell from Rosie’s mouth, from deep in her throat as she slumped forward, head landing in her hands. “And I’m being an arse. Yes, I can stand.” She finally opened her eyes, looking up at Hope with a strained gaze.

Hope stood fully, offering her hands with a wiggle of her fingers, “Come on, then,” she urged.

Rosie moaned again, but placed her palms on Hope’s all the same. She let herself be gently tugged to her feet and led back into the living room of Hope’s flat, let herself be pushed into sitting back down and laying back, her eyelids fluttering shut.

Hope’s palm on her shoulder was a steady weight, a warmth soaking through to her skin. “Stay put,” and all too soon that weight disappeared as Hope stepped away from the sofa.

“Can I just go home?” Rosie asked, knowing full well she would never be granted permission to leave when she could barely keep her eyes open.

“No, you live alone,” Hope called over her shoulder, striding in the direction of the kitchen. “If you leave I can’t take care of you.”

“I’m not a baby.”

“You’re right. Babies don’t complain as much.”

“Are you saying you’d trade me for a baby?”

“Oh, never. You don’t have snot running down your face at the very least,” her voice echoed from the kitchen, familiar and playful in Rosie’s ears. “...If I come in there and there’s snot -!”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Rosie!” Hope’s chiding voice rang from the kitchen, alongside a loud, panicked clatter, which only served to provide Rosie with a brief laughing fit.

“I’d never,” her laughter died, replaced by an amused smile grounded in the comfort of the situation. “I think you’d break my nose before I got the chance.”

“Don’t even think about it and you’ll never have to find out.”

“Mmm,” Rosie hummed in acknowledgment, sinking further into the cushions of the sofa as Hope’s pleasant voice occasionally called out to her, alongside clatters and thuds.

Her lashes flickered open, blinking to clear the fleeting sleep from them as Hope stood over her, hands on her hips. “I was trying to make you soup, but you’re going right to bed.”

“I don’t live here,” she murmured without a thought, the imposing woman above her having stripped her of them.

“I know. Now, up.”

Hope pulled her to her feet again, let Rosie lean her bodyweight against her in her sick and sleepy haze as she was guided to Hope’s bedroom and directed to the bed. Hope yanked back the neatly made duvet, allowing Rosie to slip beneath it.

The bed dipped as Hope joined her on the edge, tracing her nail over her scalp, the hinge of her jaw, the length of her neck. Over, and over again, until the sleep that weighed Rosie down stole her again, until she could only manage a mumbled, “Thank you.”

Like the soft explosion of colour on her shut eyelids, flowing in whatever direction the light is pulled in, green. Like the doting nails as they ghosted along her skin, sweet and full of love, green. Like the peace now swirling in her once foul gut, green.

Blue

Like the rain falling from the dark clouds outside, blue. Like the melancholy that permeated the air as Rosie opened the door, blue. Like the tears in the corners of Hope’s eyes as she fought against the pressure behind them, blue.

Hope shouldered her way into the flat and into the living room, dropping herself onto the sofa before she sucked in a deep breath. “You can’t move,” her voice cracked as it escaped from her, each syllable heavy with sorrow.

Crossing the room, Rosie collapsed beside her, gaze stuck to her hands as she felt Hope’s bored into the side of her face. “Why not?” she mumbled beneath her breath, one nail picking the woven bracelet resting on her wrist.

“‘Cause I’ll miss you.”

She sighed heavily, twitching beneath Hope’s piercing eyes. “I’ll miss you too, but I kinda have to,” she shrugged, everything feeling useless in the moment. Everything had felt useless since that morning, since she had first told Hope and they had first begun this odd dance.

“It’s not the same.”

“Sure it is.”

“No, no it’s not,” Hope insisted, a spark in her voice as her own hands fidgeted wildly, unease seeping in every corner of the flat. “You’ll - You’ll be doing your thing, without me there, and I’ll be doing my thing without you here, and we’ll be in our little worlds and won’t - won’t realise until it’s too late and we… you know.” She fell off at the end, her bottom lip slipping between her teeth to worry it.

“Hope,” Rosie sighed, a hand dragging down her face, “We’re not gonna break up.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“How? How can you possibly know what’ll happen if you leave?” Hope’s features crumpled, deep creases marking worry lines.

“Hope…”

“Rosie, look at me.” She took Rosie’s hands, thumbs nervously circling her knuckles as her eyes poured into the dark irises across from her. “I know you, and I know me. I know I’m not good at being apart, and I know you get caught up in the moment. I adore that about you, I really do, but it’s also the most annoying thing imaginable.”

“Wha - Hey!” A surprised laugh bubbled out of Rosie, a bright smile gracing her features for the first time in the night.

“See?” A small smile illuminated Hope’s own expression, “Now you can’t go ‘cause you have to stay to get back at me.” The smile dissipated, replaced by a tight grip on Rosie’s hands. “Please don’t go.”

“I have to. Seriously,” Rosie squeezed back. “My mum… she needs me back home right now.”

Hope sagged, disheartened, letting her forehead bump into Rosie’s shoulder. “You’re too stubborn.”

Rosie snorted, “Says you. You showed up at my door at three in the morning.” Her arm wrapped around Hope without a thought, unconsciously urging her closer.

“I’m not stubborn, I’m romantic.”

“Yeah?” a chuckle vibrated throughout Rosie’s chest, “Then romance me.”

Hope visibly brightened, turning her head to smile into Rosie’s neck. “I’ll buy you roses tomorrow. Roses for my Rose,” she giggled radiantly.

“Cute,” Rosie hummed, her palm circling along her partner’s back.

“I thought so,” she preened.

Rosie inhaled deeply, rolling her neck to crack it before she fell backward suddenly. She held out her hands, making a grabbing motion at a slightly confused Hope. “C’mere,” waved relentlessly, until Hope gave in with a grin.

She shuffled forward, collapsing atop Rosie with a contented sigh, her head on the taller woman’s chest, right above her softly beating heart. She dragged her fingers up and down Rosie’s ribs, every breath of Hope’s a whisper along her skin.

“I didn’t think you ever wanted to leave London anyhow?” she exhaled after they settled, inquiring with nudge to Rosie’s chin.

“I didn’t. Not for forever, at least.”

“So you’ll come back to me?”

Rosie stalled, avoiding eye contact as she stared up at the ceiling. “...At some point.”

A frown dipped Hope’s lips almost instantaneously, “I don’t like the sound of that. That sounds like - like…” she struggled for words, her features pinched. “Like a goodbye with extra steps.”

“Nope,” Rosie’s head shook adamantly, finally meeting Hope’s gaze with a resolve in her own. “We’re not saying goodbye, I promise you that.”

That quieted Hope, her lashes fluttered shut as her hand on Rosie’s abdomen stilled. The flat went still as well, undisturbed in the late hour as light, nimble fingers traced a circle around her hip.

“What if I went with you?” Hope’s voice cracked the silence in half, shattering it like glass and simultaneously freezing it deeper into her bones.

There was no response, and she glanced up to find Rosie gawking, blinking upwards in surprise. Her jaw hung open, mouth working to form words that won’t come, no matter how hard she may try. Finally, her voice squeaked out, breathless with her disbelief, “You’d… move cities… for me?”

“Yes,” Hope answered in a heartbeat, not a second of hesitation.

“Why?”

“You know why.”

At that Rosie exploded back to life, her crooked grin lifting her lips. “Nuh-uh, you gotta say it,” she teased, her eyes burning with excitement.

“You’re the worst, you know that?” Hope laughed, fond exasperation filling her as she shook her head.

“Say it,” Rosie urged, pestering Hope with pokes to her sides. “Say it, say it, say it.”

“The worst!” A full laugh spilled from her lips, and Rosie pressed for more and more of it, the sound addictive to her. Hope freed herself from Rosie’s grasp, from her playful jabs, and kneeled above her, taking her face in her hands.

Hope’s thumbs brushed over her cheekbones, caress delicate and soothing. “I love you and don’t want to be without you, okay?” she whispered into the space between them, a clash of brilliant eyes alighting the gap like metal sparking.

“I love you too,” she murmured back, rising to peck Hope on the nose before she settled back down. “But you don’t have to move.”

“But I want to.”

“Hope…”

“Rosie…”

Rosie shook her head, incredulous at the persistence staring her down. “You’re going to change your mind in the morning,” she warned carefully.

“I won’t.”

“And how could you know that? How could you possibly know that?” Rosie teased, repeating Hope’s previous words.

“How many times do I have to tell you I love you for you to get it?”

“I won’t complain if you say it a few more times,” Rosie joked, languidly relaxed as she danced her fingers along Hope’s skin wherever she could reach, noting the twist in the dance between them. It was as if they stuck the landing, poised and graceful, rather than on their arse like they had been earlier in the day.

“So it’s settled, then?” Hope livened, “I’m coming with you?”

Mumbling under her breath, Rosie rolled her eyes, “Incorrigible…”

The shorter woman stretched out, her body overlapping with Rosie’s as she buried herself in her side. “I’m coming whether you agree or not, you can just make this easier for the both of us.”

“Fine,” Rosie grumbled. “If you really, truly, absolutely want to move to Margate with me, I don’t think I can do much to stop you.”

“Damn right you can’t.”

Like the cushions their bodies have melted into together, blue. Like the rain streaked down window panes right outside, blue. Like the waves of calm rolling through the flat, a gentle rhythm to match their exhales as they were carefully lulled to sleep, blue.

Purple

Like the cardigan wrapped around her body, the slightest amount too big, purple. Like the sandals padding along sand, feet running down the length of the beach, purple. Like the sky as the sun sets on the horizon, fading watercolours painted across the clouds, purple.

“Slow down, slow down!” Hope lamely chased after Rosie on the beach, her shoes sinking into the sand with each step.

“Not my fault you wore heels,” Rosie called over her shoulder, walking quickly down the shoreline as she tugged her cardigan closer to her body. A breeze swept over the waves, cold grazing her skin.

Hope’s bottom lip popped out in a pout, her legs working to free the sharp heels stuck in sand. “I was trying to look nice for date night.”

“You always look nice, you don’t need heels.”

“Aw,” Hope cooed, grinning at the taller woman. “Wait, seriously, stop,” she forced Rosie to retrace a few steps, her hand gripped in Rosie’s sleeve for balancing. She bounced on one foot as she tugged her heels off one by one, burying her toes in the smooth sand when they were freed. “Okay, now you get to hold them,” Hope smiled, jutting her arm out as the shoes dangled from her fingers.

“What? Why me?”

“You brought me here, it’s your fault I can’t walk anymore.” Hope swung the shoes, imploring them to be taken from her grasp.

“I brought you here to be romantic and you’ve spent the whole time complaining about your feet,” Rosie grumbled, but despite her protests, she took the outstretched shoes in one hand and offered Hope her other, tugging her along as soon as their palms met.

With her feet bare, Hope matched pace, sidling up to Rosie’s side and linking their arms. “Thank you, by the way,” she sighed softly, her cheek pressing to the woven fabric of Rosie’s cardigan. “It’s gorgeous out here.”

Rosie grinned cheekily, her chest puffed out for a joke, “Not as -”

“Gorgeous as me?” Hope interjected, head tilted as she peered up bemusedly.

“I was going to say the heels, but you too.”

“I can’t believe I’m dating you,” Hope groaned, burying her face further in pale purple fabric.

“Yeah, that was a really bad call on your part,” Rosie laughed loudly, squeezing the arm looped in hers tightly.

“I guess you have some good moments. Like when you buy me flowers, or take me to dinner on my night off, or bring me to the beach,” Hope emphasised her point by kicking up a small cloud of sand. “And that was only tonight. Are you up to something?” she joked, squinting up in faux suspicion.

Rosie avoided her gaze, turning to the horizon and softly setting sun instead. It’s rays stretched as far as the eye can see, basking the world in brilliant colour and reflecting off the rolling waves of the sea.

Hope’s jaw fell open, eyes scanning Rosie for any semblance of an answer, “Oh my god, you are. What is it? What’s this all about?”

With a halfhearted shrug, Rosie feigned nonchalance, “Just… setting the mood.”

Hope planted her feet, burying her toes in the sand and pulled on her partner’s sleeve as she continued walking, yanking her back. “Tell me or I’m not moving.”

“I had this whole thing planned, and now you’re trying to blackmail me into spoiling it?” Rosie chuckled, letting herself be reeled in by her baggy sleeve.

“Yep. Now tell me.”

A sigh broke from Rosie’s lips, “And you always called me stubborn. Okay, just -” she shook out her shoulders, rolling her neck. “Give me a minute, I thought I’d have more time.”

With a slight frown, Hope crossed her arms over her chest, but she obliged nevertheless. She watched Rosie drop the heels in her hand and fidget restlessly, fingers adjusting her cardigan, her dress, her hair. Until they slipped into her purse, digging around for a brief second before drawing out a small box.

It’s rolled in Rosie’s palms, her hands never stilling as long as it's in her grasp. She takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “The day I met you was… honestly, it was pretty embarrassing,” Rosie grinned, as crooked as ever. “But you didn’t hold it against me. And… that’s probably the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Probably?” Hope’s eyebrow quirked, her hip jutting out to the side in objection.

The taller woman glared up from beneath her long lashes, “You want the heartfelt speech or not?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Hope’s hands waved placatingly. “Please, continue.”

“Right, okay,” Rosie nodded, rebuilding her courage. “You are more than I ever expected and more special than I first thought. Every day I’ve known you has been better than the last, and it’s like - like brighter? Like everything’s just more colourful now, and I don’t know what you did, but I love you for it,” she grinned, bashful for once, with a blush dusting her cheeks.

“And I know this is a long time coming, but better late than never right?” she chuckled softly beneath her breath, eyes trained on the sand as the flush in her cheeks grew. “So I just have to ask, if after everything, you’d be willing to stick around and keep making everything brighter?”

Tears glittered in Hope’s eyes, a shine coating them as she sucked in a trembling breath. Her fingers carefully covered Rosie’s, a thumb traced the small rock embedded in the ring as she watched it shine in the low light.

Rosie shifted from foot to foot, staring down at the ring with a miniscule frown. “It’s not much, but…”

“It’s perfect,” Hope cut her off before she could finish, voice as sweet as ever. “Perfect,” she repeated as she gently took it from Rosie’s hands, slipping it on her finger. She turned it over carefully, movements as graceful as ever to Rosie’s peering gaze.

Abruptly, Hope’s arms curled around her waist, face burying in her shoulder. Rosie reciprocated without a thought, squeezing tight. “You know, I think I need an answer,” she breathed into Hope’s skin, lips slowly split into a smile.

“Oh!” Hope darted backwards, hands aimlessly fumbling until they landed on Rosie’s jaw, cupping her face warmly. “Yes! God, yes. I’m - I’m here to stay,” she beamed. “Always.”

Rosie’s forehead bumped against Hope’s, arms wound around her torso. “I told you no goodbyes, didn’t I?”

“You are ever true to your word,” she tapped the side of Rosie’s nose teasingly before retracting, rubbing her arms to warm them. “Come on, let’s go; I’m freezing out here,” she bounced on her feet expectantly.

“Yeah, the beach was more romantic in my head,” Rosie chuckled, tugging her cardigan off her body to drape it over Hope’s shoulders.

Taking the gifted cardigan, Hope turned on her heel, leading the way from the chilling breeze sweeping over the sea. She hooked her arm through Rosie’s once again as they walked in silence, a comfortable silence. It’s carried along the breeze, relaxed as the lapping waves that grow more and more distant.

“I still appreciate it,” Hope commented as they came to a stop by their car, folding her arms as she leaned against it, lavender wool dripping from her arms.

“The beach or the ring?”

“I can appreciate both.

Rosie laughed brightly, hooking an arm around Hope’s waist to draw her in. Her smile softened, from a burning wildfire to a fireplace, there to keep you warm and safe more than anything. Hope’s arms snaked around her neck in response, their bodies melding in a way that was more natural to them than breathing.

“Look at you,” Rosie whispered in private awe, her breath ghosted along Hope’s lips as one nail traced the curves shaping them.

Hope’s own smile was serene, full of her own hominess, “What do you see?”

With her gaze filled with nothing but the face before her, tracing over every bump and dip in skin, every line and colour in gleaming irises, she breathed, “Everything.”

Like the deep of the creeping night, stars glittering within the gradient of the sky, purple. Like the future laid out before them, infinite possibilities but an amethyst sitting at the centre of it all, purple. Like the feeling of contentment, peace swirling in the pit of your stomach, purple.

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

Master Post

My Master Post for Sanders Sides fanfiction! These are arranged chronologically from newest to oldest, measured by the date they were completed and uploaded in full, so that will reflect the quality here. (there’s a ton more under the cut btw).

Fast Friends - ao3... (15k Remus-centric intruality, lopsided enemies to friends to lovers, humor and a bit of angst with a happy ending. tw; emetophobes beware!) Patton doesn't like Remus, until one day, he does! Well, Remus isn't buying it. So Remus is not about to be friends with him just because he wants to (no matter how much it maybe, kind of wouldn't mind that).

I’m Not Sorry - ao3... (6k remus-centric intrulogical. continuation of Did You Miss Me. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.)  Remus just wanted to get home safe to his wonderful, loving boyfriend. If some greaseball guy thinks he can screw that up, then Remus is perfectly willing to let the night take a turn for the vengeful.

Redamancy - ao3... (5k romantic prinxiety, fluffy friends to lovers with a smidgen of misunderstanding.) Virgil is undoubtedly excited about Nico. The thing is, that’s not the only person he’s excited about. 

Did You Miss Me? - ao3... (13k romantic intrulogical, unhealthy relationship and mutual stalking treated light-heartedly. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat). Logan and Remus haven’t spoken in years. But that doesn’t stop them from keeping up with each other, through... various means. 

The Down (and up)-side of Individual Expression - ao3... (8k romantic logince, angst w/ a happy ending, prosey and dealing w/ some kinda touchy subject matter vis a vis body image). As the sides have taken on vastly differing appearances over the years, Roman and Logan find themselves incredibly attracted in body and mind to each other. The issue is, Logan still has some trouble believing it.

Tree Bark and Fresh Fruit - ao3... (Fusion AU part six! romantic royality fusion returns for some prose and a lil bit of h/c). Patron doesn't come around often, getting lost in the excitement of Patton and Roman's new romantic relationship- so when she gets a shot to exist again, he's determined to make the most of it by figuring out just what the heck he's supposed to be. 

Bitter Licorice and Bright-Blue Bubblegum - ao3... (Fusion AU part five! analogical fusion is back!)  Logan and Virgil end up fusing much more regularly, much to Livril's satisfaction at getting to exist, and virtually every other side's chagrin at having to put up with them. Everyone, it seems, but Patton.

Scary Monsters and Family Bonds - ao3... (Fusion AU part four! Platonic anxceitmus with romantic dukeceit, short and mostly meaningless.) Rennet, freshly born like five seconds ago, is desperate to find some people to bother and/or amaze. But instead, Rennet finds an attachment that nobody quite expected to be so intense, but hey, it's not complaining, and neither is Virgil. 

Acceptable Behavior - ao3... Remus is surprisingly concerned about his boyfriend's boundaries. (short & sweet intruality drabble. p/ much just cuddling)

On Truth and Untruth - ao3... Janus is allowed to participate in the group, and that is more than enough for them. Not too bad of a change up, really, and they aren't going to complain about it any time soon. Patton, however, insists on throwing a wrench into their system- their perfectly functioning, if maybe hypothetically a bit lonely, system. (28k word janus-centric romantic moceit and platonic dlampr, lots of angst and lots of yearning, with a happy ending. something of a character study.)

I Taste Honey but I Haven’t Seen the Hive - Chap.1, Chap.2, Chap.3, Chap.4, Chap.5, Chap.6, Chap.7, Chap.8, Chap.9 - ao3... (Finished!) Patton doesn't think of himself as misunderstood. More accurately, he's not very good at explaining himself. Remus explains himself perfectly well, succinct, confident. People are just bad at listening. Patton is lonely. He'd never say it out loud. No one knows. Remus is lonely. He says it in everything he does. No one knows. They're similar. They're different as can be. Contradictory, maybe; complimentary, definitely. They could be good for each other- they just need to explain it right. (hurt/comfort, eventual queer-platonic intruality, a healthy amount of angst).

Sharp Spikes and Glamour - ao3... (part three of my Fusion AU! a little angstier and racier than the others, but that’s thanks to the dukeceit dynamic, and its nothing too bad). Now, just a month ago, Remus could very confidently say that his and Janus’ relationship was perfect. And it still was, really, but that was before Roman and Patton had pulled some cartoon fusion bullshit that exactly no one had known was possible. There was no question. Remus was going to learn to do that.

Squishy, Precious Lil’ Baby! - ao3...  Very short, platonic intruality fluff. Remus turns into a rat for a scare, but Patton is very unafraid of him in the new form.

Black Cloth and Star Systems - ao3...   (Almost 4k fluff, part two of my Fusion AU! Very heavy on the descriptions, and also the Love that these two Have.) After Patton and Roman fuse, Logan can't help but feel desperately curious about this new discovery, and the possibilities of fusion between sides. But, his interest is a little more personal than he could stand to admit... Because what if- what if he could try it, too?

more under the cut

Flare Up - ao3... Human au drabble. Romantic sleepxiety. They are soft and in the rain.

Soft Walls and Roses - ao3... (Part one of my Fusion AU! Fluffy, sweet, and prose-y. Abt 3k.) On a nice, cheery day, Roman and Patton get a little lost in a dance <3.

Communication Issues (Alternative Title: Three Touch-Starved, Insecure, Metaphysical Beings Constantly Misinterpreting Each Other and Yet Somehow Falling in Love)- Chap.1, Chap.2, Chap.3, Chap.4 + Epilogue - ao3... (Finished!)  What do you do when you find someone crying, and it’s all your fault? What do you say when you hear the muffled sobs and frantic words behind the blood-red door? When you know that, no matter how much you never wanted to hurt him- never wanted to hurt anyone- you still did. Is there anything you can do to fix it, when you’ve spent so long pretending that nothing was broken? When you’ve spent so long pretending that you didn’t care if things were broken or not? (Second Person, Present Tense. H/C slowburn. romantic analogince. Note: this is not an ‘x reader’ fic, it’s just 2nd person pov.)

A Study in the Pains of Romance as a Genre - ao3... Logan wasn’t 'insecure', by most measures. Sure, he wasn't exactly in love with himself, but he knew the harm that came of self-deprecation, and was careful to avoid it. At the worst of times, he could solidly be called 'self-neutral'. Therefore, it followed that Logan was being entirely objective when he said that he would not be a good enough romantic partner for Roman. (Friends to Lovers, abt 4k, romantic logince).

I Like You, Say It Back. - ao3... Short, sweet, slightly angsty first ‘I Love You’ between Virgil and Remus. romantic dukexiety.

A Misplaced Imbalance of Fear - ao3... almost 7k friends to lovers fastburn, in that this happens in a day. Set during/right after Putting Others First, a little peak into what Virgil and Remus were doing. Hint; being a little sad and very gay. romantic dukexiety.

The Ballroom - ao3... Every side has a room, but they also come with a special domain, completely individualized to each one. Of these Extensions, the only room that no side (other than its owner) has ever seen is Janus’. At least, until he falls head-over-heels for Roman and finally lets him in. (romantic roceit).

Hypothetically, - ao3... Nearly 7k friends to lovers, with a hearty helping of platonic logince. Logan likes to use the Imagination for experiments, but he can’t manage to use it on his own. The solution is obvious. (romantic intrulogical).

No Other Version of Me - ao3... Patton isn’t very happy about his new froggy features, but Janus finds him gorgeous all the same. Hurt/comfort! romantic moceit.

Complexities Unknowable- Chap.1, chap.2, chap.3, chap.4, chap.5, chap.6, chap.7 - ao3... (Finished!) Slowburn with pre-established Dukeceit, rivals to friends to lovers, with Background Analogince (plus some platonic anxceit and Creativitwins thrown in for funsies). romantic deintruality.

I’d Like To Stand By Him - ao3... Roman and Virgil listen to each other’s playlists. romantic prinxiety.

An Open and Honest Conversation About Our Feelings - ao3... hurt/comfort, shamelessly self-indulgent. Patton doesn’t come out of his room all day, so Virgil goes to check up on him. romantic moxiety.

Something to Uplift Us - ao3... Roman-centric (and Remus-centric) DLAMPR (platonic Creativitwins!). Quarantine shenanigans; the boys put on a show for their boyfriends!

Thursday Nights - ao3... Short fluff where Remus and Patton watch a horror flick together and cuddle. romantic intruality.

5 Times Logan Helped His Partners Get Their Shit Together +1 Time They Returned The Favor - ao3... Summary’s in the title on this one, Bud. Logan-centric romantic DLAMPR (platonic p & r), very hurt/comfort.

[particularemu]

Insanity | A Hwang Hyunjin Series | Part 5

Parts: [Prologue] [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Epilogue]

Word Count: 4605

Type: ANGST, FLUFF

Warnings: insanity, self-harm, suicide, drugs, mentions of rape, nightmares, depression, anxiety, panic attacks, physical violence

Tag List: @alightiny​​ @cheonsali​, @jisungsjheekies​, @channiesmixtape​

Author’s Note: Okay, so this chapter was originally 13K words, but it felt ridiculous to post a chapter that long when all the others are around 4-7K. I decided to split that giant ass chapter up into 3 chapters, so you guys are going to get pretty regular updates over the next few days. 

WARNING: I know I have this up in the warnings, but I want to make it VERY CLEAR in case this is triggering for people. This series is very dark and very horror based and since we’re starting to dive deep into the plot, very triggering topics are going to start popping up in the future chapters. 

THIS CHAPTER MENTIONS RAPE. It is very brief, and it passes in conversation, but I feel like this needs to be said in case it’s triggering for some people. 

“I love you!” 

Hyunjin’s heart skipped a beat at your sudden confession. Surely you didn’t love love him right? There was no way…

Hyunjin pursed his lips as his mind swarmed with possibilities. There was a real chance that you didn’t actually love him. 

There’s this thing called The Suspension Bridge Effect — where trauma victims mistake the feeling of trust, security, and admiration for a feeling of love. All of your small confessions — your little phrases, “I trust you,” “I adore you,” and “I care about you,” could be a HUGE sign that you just felt safe with him. Odds are… you’ve fallen into this trap.

But if you really did love him…

God, if you really did love him, Hyunjin would have to admit to himself that he loves you. Then he could finally kiss you, hold you, and love you the way you should be loved but… it would also force the two of you to keep your relationship hidden from the institution — which would be really difficult judging by the nosey people who work in the building. You two would either have to keep your relationship a secret, or he would have to work hard and come up with an escape plan, so the two of you could finally be happy out in the real world. 

But what if this feeling wasn’t love? What if Hyunjin loved you as a friend? The boy never truly experienced love the way many other people do when they’re younger. His family didn’t take care of him — he took care of himself. He didn’t fall in love as a teenager — he studied to become a doctor. 

After thinking a bit longer Hyunjin decided that no — no he didn’t love you in that way. You were his friend — a patient, not a lover. Besides, you were probably just telling him you loved him as a friend. “I love you too sweetheart.” Hyunjin smiled softly. “I’m glad you trust me. I promise I won’t let anything else happen to you.” Hyunjin ran his thumb across your cheek. “You’re the best patient I’ve ever had.” 

Oh…

Did you just get friend-zoned? Well actually, the two of you had a professional relationship, so you technically got patient-zoned. 

You were still just a patient in his eyes. Every fiber of your being was fighting the urge to facepalm and yet… you were completely and utterly embarrassed about blurting out your love for the beautiful man. Hyunjin clearly didn’t understand what you were telling him. That boy was a genius but he’s got to be the world’s most dense guy.

Well, you couldn’t fault him for it. From what Hyunjin has told you, he’s been alone most of his life. He was either taking care of his mother or studying to be a doctor so he could dedicate his life to helping those who suffer from mental illnesses. Hyunjin was such an amazing guy. He was so relatable, yet — so untouchable. You wouldn't be surprised if Hyunjin confessed that he wasn’t interested in romantic relationships. 

You would still love him anyway. 

Sure… you could just confess once more — hold his cheeks in your hands, plant a kiss on his lips, tell the boy that you loved him more than life itself — tell him that he’s the reason you’re alive to see the moon rise and the stars sparkle. You could do all of that but… you wouldn’t dare ruin the soft moment. You enjoyed the feeling of his arms around your body, the feeling of his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your arm, listening to the soft thumping of his heart as you curled up in his chest. You didn’t want to ruin that. Besides, if he didn’t love you back, you just dodged a bullet. 

“Can we just talk?” You mumbled, suddenly feeling awkward at the silence. “Your voice sounds nice.” 

As if you could be more obvious…

“Sure. What do you want to talk about?” Hyunjin smiled and ran his fingers through your hair. The soft strands slipped effortlessly through his fingers, making his heart swell. 

You sighed, searching your brain for any answers. No particular topics came to mind — you really just wanted to hear his soft voice as he talked about everything and anything. “Anything.” You leaned closer in his embrace as you grabbed his other hand, tracing one of the veins with the tip of your finger. 

Hyunjin couldn’t help but smile as you fiddled with his hand. It felt oddly nice, being this close with someone. Throughout his life, Hyunjin never really felt physical affection. His father was out of the picture from a young age, having committed suicide when he was a young boy, and his mother lost her mind soon after. Most of his childhood was spent taking care of his mother, and/or making sure she doesn’t kill herself. When he wasn’t taking care of others, he had his nose in a book. Feeling soft touches, hugs, and small caresses were brand new to him — and he enjoyed it more than he was willing to admit. 

In fact — the boy was practically touch-starved. Every single time you had your arms around him, Hyunjin felt safe, cared for, and loved. When your arms weren’t on him, he felt lost. “I want to hear about you.” Hyunjin smiled softly. “What can you tell me about yourself?”

You paused for a second, fingers stilling on Hyunjin’s hands as you tried to remember something — anything that would give him an idea of who you were. Unfortunately, your mind was blank. There was nothing. You couldn’t remember a single thing about yourself. “I don’t remember much.” You sighed. “I guess there is one thing.”  Your fingers started to move against Hyunjin’s hand once more. Wait... was that weird? You quickly dropped his hand, mumbling a quick, “Sorry.” 

“Hm?” Hyunjin’s brow raised as he looked down at your hands. “No, keep going. It feels nice.” Hyunjin slid his hand back into yours as he asked, “What do you remember?”

You pressed your thumb into Hyunjin’s palm gently as you kept talking. “I keep seeing flashes of something.” You sighed. “I think it’s a kidnapping…” You trailed off, trying to find the right words. “It might be mine.” 

Hyunjin’s breath hitched as the words left your lips. 

So you were kidnapped… 

Of course, there was a chance that this was just a frequent recurring nightmare you were having, but… Hyunjin always had a feeling you didn’t belong in the institution. Someone at the asylum kidnapped you and brought you to the hospital… Who could that be?

“I always get a really bad headache and I get scared when I think about it.” You paused, taking a deep breath to control your emotions. “Hyunjin… I’m scared to find the truth.” 

You were terrified. What if you found out your entire life was a lie? Your mind was filled with memories of the institution — almost none were from your past. You could remember meeting Minho, Chan, and Changbin. You also remembered the day your eyes met Hyunjin’s — the chocolate orbs driving deep within your soul immediately. 

“That’s understandable sweetheart.” Hyunjin’s arms tightened around your frame. “Do you…” The boy paused, wondering if he should even ask. “Do you remember murdering someone?”

“No.” Your eyes welled up with tears. “No, I don’t.” Your breathing started to speed up as you wiped your eyes, hoping to hide any traces of tears. You were so sick of crying, sick of being afraid, of being alone… You just wanted to get out of Rosewood so you could live a normal life. That wouldn’t be possible if you were a murderer — and if you were a murderer… God, that means you’re a horrible person. “Hyunjin what if I did?” 

Hyunjin rested his chin on your head. “Shh, it’s okay sweetheart. You aren’t a horrible person.” Hyunjin rubbed soothing circles on your back with his thumb, hoping the small gesture would make you feel less afraid. “We don’t know anything right now. There’s no use in worrying about it until we figure out what happened. For all we know, Dr. Douglas could have been lying.” 

“Can we please talk about something else?” You mumbled into his chest. You needed to change the subject before you wound up having another attack. “Tell me something about you.” You paused, wondering what to ask him. “Something deep.” 

Wait… would he even want to talk to you about his life? Sure, you tell Hyunjin everything but, he was your doctor. Maybe it’s weird for a doctor to share their stories with a patient… Fuck, you never should have asked. “Only if you want to though.” 

“No, I don’t mind.” Hyunjin smiled. “It’s only fair. I’m always in your business.” Hyunjin chuckled, the deep laughter sending a wave of calm over your being. 

“Yeah, but you’re my doctor.” You giggled, “I’m just nosey.” 

Hyunjin smiled softly, eyes crinkling as he mentally snapped a picture of your bright smile. Ah, but you were right. He was your DOCTOR. Nothing more, nothing less. Hyunjin needed to start treating you more like a patient. 

But was it that wrong to be close with your patient? You were getting so much better thanks to the way he treated you. But was he treating you like this because he cared about your mental stability? Or was it something deeper? Perhaps it was just pure instinct. Hyunjin couldn’t tell. 

No… Hyunjin knew exactly what this was, he was just in denial about it. He loved you with all his heart. He trusted you with all this information. Something deep inside him WANTED to tell you everything. 

“You’re not nosey.” Hyunjin chuckled. “I guess I’ll tell you about me and my family.” Hyunjin took a deep breath, scanning his brain for memories worth sharing. “When I was young, my mother discovered that I was a bit different from all the other kids.” Hyunjin smiled. “I was reading at a much higher level, I could solve complex math problems in my head, and I knew the entire English dictionary back to front.” Hyunjin’s eyes crinkled as he grinned at you. “That was when we found out that I was classified as a genius.” 

“Wow.” You smiled. “That must have made school pretty easy.” 

You couldn’t remember anything about your school days. Perhaps you were a closet genius? Nah, that wasn’t possible. Judging by how complacent you are in the institution, you were probably one of those kids who went through the motions just so they could get out of school. 

“Yeah…” Hyunjin paused. “It comes with its own set of problems. My father worked in a dead-end job. From what I heard, he was always unhappy.” The boy sighed. “One day he just decided to end it all.” Hyunjin pursed his lips. “I was five-years-old when I found him dead on the bathroom floor surrounded by tons of pills.” Hyunjin’s hand ran across his jaw as if to wipe away any emotion from his face. “He always smiled when he was around me, so it felt like his death was out of the blue.” 

“God, Hyunjin.” You looked up at him, noticing the faraway look in his eyes. “I’m so sorry.” You adjusted your position, straddling his hips so you could hug him. 

“Thank you.” Hyunjin wrapped his arms around your frame. “But don’t worry. This happened such a long time ago. It doesn’t really bother me now. Besides, I don’t really think he was my real father. I didn’t look like him at all.” Hyunjin chuckled darkly. 

“Jinnie, he was still your father.” You pulled away to look him in the eyes. “That shit doesn’t just go away. It always sticks with you.” 

Hyunjin’s cheeks flushed slightly as he pulled you closer. “Thank you. I still had my mother at the time.” 

“Had?” Your face fell. “Is your mother?”

“No.” Hyunjin interrupted you. “My mother is alive.” He smiled. “I miss her very much.” 

“How did she handle your father’s death?” You asked. 

Hyunjin’s eyes shifted away from your gaze. “Not well.” He sighed. “Her anxiety slowly started to eat her away. When I was young, I didn’t really have any friends because I was either studying or taking care of my mom. It was my job to make sure she didn’t kill herself.” 

Oh, God…

That shouldn’t have been Hyunjin’s job. Your heart broke for the boy. He never had a chance to be a kid — to go fall out of a tree and break his arm, to play tag with all the kids on the playground, to enjoy a bunch of toys during Christmas. The poor boy was trying to keep what was left of his family together. 

“Hyunjin, you’re such a good person.” You rested your hands on his cheeks. “Please remember that.” God, you wanted to kiss him right now. “Minho and I couldn’t imagine a life without you.”

Hyunjin froze. Sure, Minho had been a good friend to him so far, until… Until it really mattered. Until he was about to risk it all to break you out of the padded room — then Minho decided to bail. Suddenly his reputation at the institution mattered more than justice. 

Was Minho really trustworthy? At this point, Hyunjin didn’t know. Anxiety was slowly bubbling in his chest. If Minho really wanted to break out of the asylum, he wouldn’t care about his reputation. What if the older boy was planning to rat Hyunjin out?

Part of Hyunjin knew he was being unreasonable. Of course, it would look suspicious if all the doctors started to act out. They need someone on the inside to help them escape that godforsaken place. Still…

What were Minho’s intentions?

For the first time in his life, Hyunjin had a friend — someone he trusted with his life. He’d be devastated if Minho decided to rat them out. At Rosewood, who knew what would happen. With all the trouble Hyunjin has caused, he wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up dead in a ditch. 

“Hey, you okay?” You tilted your head, the cute movement shaking Hyunjin out of his negative thoughts. 

A sad smile took over Hyunjin’s features. “Minho and I just had a little spat.” 

“I’m sure you two will figure it out.” You hugged Hyunjin once more. “Anyone can tell that the two of you care about each other.” 

“I hope you’re right.” Hyunjin couldn’t help but smile as your body grew heavy on top of him. “Did you fall asleep on me?” Hyunjin chuckled when he heard no response. His eyes drifted shut as he held you close, exhaustion making him pass out underneath you. 

---------------------

After having back-to-back shifts, Hyunjin was exhausted. He slowly trudged back to the dorms, ready to plop in bed and sleep for a whole damn day. Thank God Chan agreed to cover him for the night shift so he could get some much-needed sleep. 

Hyunjin opened the door to the dorms and headed down the hallway, eyes widening when he spotted Minho unlocking his door. The older boy looked worn out, stressed, and upset — like he’d break down and cry any minute. If Hyunjin wasn’t so tired, he’d consider hiding behind the corner until Minho disappeared in his room, but frankly… Hyunjin was ready to drop any second. The boy strolled down the hall, heart dropping when Minho’s eyes landed on him. “Hey.” Minho waved, a fake smile taking over his features as he turned towards Hyunjin. “Long day?”

“Long day and night.” Hyunjin chuckled as he entered the code to his room, mentally cursing at himself when his index finger pressed the wrong number. “I stayed for the day shift after breaking her out of solitary confinement.” 

“Wow.” Minho’s brows creased as he fiddled with his thumbs. “Do you mind if I come in for a bit.” Minho paused. “I know you’re tired… I won’t stay long.”  

“Sure.” Hyunjin entered the correct code to his room, sighing as he pushed the heavy door open.

Minho walked in and plopped on the bed, ruffling the neat blankets — something that would have seriously irked Hyunjin if he wasn’t so tired. The boy was known for keeping things nice and neat. Every single morning, he made the bed, put his clothes in the hamper, tidied up, and then every night Minho would pop in and disrupt the clean environment by bouncing on the bed and checking out every picture frame Hyunjin had in the room. Oh, but Hyunjin enjoyed the boy’s company. 

“Yeah, make yourself at home.” Hyunjin chuckled as he neatly hung his jacket in the closet. “I wasn’t planning on sleeping tonight anyways.” 

Minho smiled — a genuine smile that made Hyunjin feel a little bit better. “Don’t be salty.” Minho’s face dropped as his gaze shifted to his hands. “I wanted to make sure we’re good.” 

“What do you mean?” Hyunjin figured it’d be best to play dumb vs. telling the boy how frustrated he was. 

“Don’t be an idiot.” Minho scoffed. “You left the room all pissed off. I didn’t want to upset you but —” 

“I get it.” Hyunjin pulled his uniform shirt off, tossing the garment into the laundry hamper neatly tucked in the corner. 

“No, you —” Minho paused, eyes widening as he scanned Hyunjin’s body. “Hey, are you taking care of yourself?” 

Hyunjin frowned as he looked down at his body. Sure he’s thinned out a bit, but he’s had a lot going on. “Yeah.” 

“No, you’re not.” Minho rolled his eyes and stood up. “I’ll be right back.” Hyunjin sighed as Minho ran out the door, cocking it open with one of Hyunjin’s shoes so the boy wouldn’t have to let him in again. 

Hyunjin quickly pulled on one of his hoodies, yanking the hood off his head before he slipped out of his work trousers. After throwing on some sweats, Hyunjin plopped in bed, fighting to keep his eyes open while he waited for Minho to get back from doing… whatever he was doing. 

Hyunjin was fighting a losing battle. 

“Oi, wake up.” Minho smacked Hyunjin’s shoulder, startling the boy awake. 

“I wasn’t asleep, I was just resting my eyes.” Hyunjin chuckled as he sat up, yawning. 

“Eat this.” Minho handed Hyunjin a bowl of ramen, decorated with various seasonings, hard-boiled eggs, and tons of vegetables and meat. 

“Did you seriously cook this for me?” Hyunjin took a big bite of the noodles, closing his eyes at the delicious taste. “It’s really good, thank you.” 

“Well, I put it together, but don’t give me too much credit. I just fancied up the packaged stuff.” Minho waved off Hyunjin’s compliment. He sat beside Hyunjin as the younger boy devoured the food. “I know you want to take care of her, but you need to make sure you’re eating properly. You’ll drop dead on the ground if you don’t take care of yourself.” 

Hyunjin sighed. “I know. You’re right.” Hyunjin set the empty bowl on his night-table, instantly dropping his head on Minho’s shoulder. “I just feel like something bad will happen if I leave her side — even for one second.” 

“If you need a break, come get me.” Minho leaned his head on top of Hyunjin’s. “I’ll watch her for you. You can trust me.” 

“Can I?” Hyunjin’s heart shattered as he sat up. “Oh my God, I didn’t —” 

“No, I get it.” Minho chuckled at Hyunjin’s pure panic. “I get it. It looks bad.” Minho sighed. “This institution is more fucked up than you know.”

“What do you know?” Hyunjin’s eyes bore into Minho’s. 

“When I first started working there, Jisung was my best friend.” Minho sighed. 

“Wait… Like your new patient Jisung?” Hyunjin’s eyes widened. 

Minho nodded. “Actually, Jisung has been my main patient for years. I took over David’s care as well because his caretaker disappeared.” Minho pursed his lips. “Jisung and I found one of our coworkers, Dr. Greg, arguing with Dr. Henry in the hallway. Dr. Greg was trying to quit and Dr. Henry told him that wasn’t an option.” Minho sighed. “Security came in and took out his knees Hyunjin. They almost beat him to death.” 

“Oh my God.” Hyunjin rested his hand on Minho’s shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” 

“The next week, Dr. Greg was a patient in a wheelchair.” Minho chuckled darkly. “No one fucking questioned it. Jisung and I decided that the institution was fucked up and we needed to leave.” He sighed. “We knew quitting and walking out wasn’t an option, based off what happened to Dr. Greg, so we came up with a plan to escape and we set a date to leave.” 

“Jisung found another doctor who wanted to get out of there, so he met with us a week before we left and changed up our plan a little bit.” Minho sighed. “I didn’t really trust him, and he changed our plan…” Minho trailed off. “I was afraid that he was sharing our plan with security or something. I couldn’t stop seeing flashbacks of Dr. Greg getting beat near death.” Minho’s hands shook as he grabbed Hyunjin’s forearm. “I decided I wasn’t going to go with them.” 

“You were scared you’d get killed.” Hyunjin held the boy’s hand. “That’s understandable.” 

“Jisung didn’t think so.” Minho scoffed. “He got upset and he said that he’d leave without me. I told him that was fine.” Minho started to tear up a bit. “I tried to look out for him the best I could, but when he tried to climb the gate, the guards found him.” 

“Oh, God…” Hyunjin trailed off. He knew this story wasn’t going to have a happy ending.

“I watched my best friend get beaten and I couldn’t find the courage to go help him.” Tears ran down Minho’s face. 

“No.” Hyunjin grabbed the boy’s shoulders. “Don’t you do that to yourself. If you went down there, you could have gotten killed.” 

“Even that would have been better than me standing there and watching him take all those punches.” Minho wiped the tears off his cheeks. 

“No. Don’t say shit like that.” Hyunjin pulled the boy into his chest, comforting him the best he could. “I would have been murdered the first week if I didn’t have you.” 

Minho couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah probably.” 

“So don’t say stuff like that.” Hyunjin rubbed soothing circles on Minho’s back, making the boy’s eyes drift shut. 

“You’re a natural comforter aren’t you?” Minho chuckled, trying to change the subject. “You’re good at this.” 

“I’ve had to be.” Hyunjin smiled sadly. “I used to have to do this for my mother when I was a kid…” Hyunjin trailed off. “If I didn’t, she’d lose her mind.” Hyunjin paused. “She’d get violent and hurt me…” He couldn’t find the right words. “But it wasn’t her fault. She had PTSD from the time she was raped.”

“Oh my God, Hyunjin I’m sorry.” Minho sat up, looking the younger boy in the eyes. Hyunjin looked lost, sad, and afraid. 

Hyunjin’s eyes dropped down to his lap. “I think I’m a rape baby.” 

Minho’s eyes widened. “What? No that can’t be true.” 

“There were so many signs Minho.” Hyunjin pursed his lips. “I don’t look like my father, my dad wanted nothing to do with me, my mother was afraid of me.” He scoffed. “I had to put her in a home because she tried to kill me one day.” Hyunjin leaned back against the headboard. “I must look just like him.” 

“Is that why you took this job?” Minho’s brows creased.  

“Yep,” Hyunjin mumbled. “I could work anywhere, but I couldn’t afford rent since they were all entry-level jobs.” He sighed. “This one gave me room and board and enough money to survive.” 

“Fuck.” Minho sighed. “We’re both fucked up but you take the cake.” 

“What a fucked up competition to win.” Hyunjin chuckled darkly. 

“You know you’re nothing like your father, right?” Minho rested his hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder. “If your theory is true, you’re nothing like him.” 

Hyunjin smiled at Minho. “Thanks.” 

“Seriously. You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met, you care so much about others, you’re the prettiest guy on earth, and you’re super smart.” Minho tried to comfort the boy the best he could. 

“So are we going to kiss now or what?” Hyunjin burst out into a fit of giggles when Minho pushed him off the bed. 

“I try to be nice and you gotta do me dirty.” Minho crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Thank you.” Hyunjin smiled and hopped back on the bed. “Can you stay the night?” He felt awkward asking the boy to stay over, but he really didn’t want to be alone. “I feel…” 

“You don’t need to give me a reason.” Minho chuckled. “Just give me clothes to wear and I’ll stay the night.” 

Hyunjin laughed. “Just go through that dresser over there and pick out whatever you want lazy bones.” 

Minho panned through the dresser before picking a pair of shorts and a hoodie. After changing Minho plopped next to Hyunjin. “I hope you know that you’re a ray of hope in that damn hospital.” 

“Hm?” Hyunjin cocked his brow. “How so? It feels like all I’ve done is fuck everything up.”

“I always figured I’d stay at the institution until I died, but you gave me hope. After you showed up I started to think that maybe, we have a chance. Maybe we can live normal lives outside this place.” Minho sighed. “I miss my family.” 

“I bet.” Hyunjin sighed. “I’m scared too.” 

“Who said I was afraid?” Minho scoffed. 

“Your eyes.” Hyunjin laughed. “Your eyes are the windows to your soul. I can always tell how you’re feeling through your eyes.” 

“Well damn.” Minho chuckled. “That was straight-up poetic.” 

“I try.” Hyunjin shrugged. “But when it comes to Y/N, I fumble like an idiot.” 

“Oh?” Minho leaned forward and wiggled his eyebrows. “Did something happen?”

“Well, she told me she loves me.” Hyunjin grinned, a light blush coating his cheeks. “I don’t think she meant it in that way though. I’m happy she trusts me.” 

Minho physically facepalmed. “You’re kidding me right?” 

“What?” Hyunjin chuckled. 

“You realize she like, love loves you right? Like, she wants to make out with you under the stars and marry your dumb-ass and live the rest of her life with you.” Minho rolled his eyes and leaned back into the headboard. “Oh my God, you seriously don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?” Hyunjin flushed darker. “She doesn’t love me like that.” 

Minho grabbed Hyunjin’s shoulders and shook him. “Yes, she does!” 

“Well, it doesn’t matter.” Hyunjin sighed. “I don’t love her in that way.” 

“Bullshit,” Minho smirked. “You grin like an idiot every time you talk about her. Plus, what you do for her isn’t normal.” 

“I would do those things for any patient.” Hyunjin chuckled. 

“Nope. I doubt you would.” Minho laughed. “Please just admit that you love her so Chan and I can stop trying to get you guys together.” 

“Oh my God, please tell me you haven’t —” Hyunjin groaned. 

“Yep.” Minho chuckled. “I’ve been telling her how awesome you are during my shifts.” He laughed. “I’ve hyped you up, so grow some balls and kiss her or something.” 

“It’s complicated.” Hyunjin giggled. “But thank you.” 

A comfortable silence passed, until Minho asked, “Do you want to meet Jisung?” 

Hyunjin smiled. “Of course. Can she come?”

Minho chuckled. “Yes, the love of your life can come too.” 

“Hey, she’s not the love of my life.” Hyunjin couldn’t stop the stupid grin that took over his face. 

“Mhmm. Keep telling yourself that.” Minho chuckled as he laid down, turning his back to Hyunjin. “Get some sleep so we can function tomorrow.” 

Hyunjin laid beside Minho, the feeling of the older boy’s back against his being oddly comforting. He couldn’t help but wonder if Minho was right. Did he love you? 

Yes — yes he did, but how on earth was he going to tell you? Before Hyunjin could come up with an answer, exhaustion took over, putting the boy to sleep instantly. 

[shulto-masusdesus]

The Cryptid Machine [BNHA AU: Chapter 1]

Time for the cryptid machine to go wild

(this is my writing sideblog btw)

i havent written anything else in days. i pushed for it so hard. 7k in three days and its just one chapter lol, fuck (i mean i wasnt writing anything else anyway so im glad i was productive at least thanks for giving me something to do lol)

But it was also fun

I accidentally really made them into the scooby-doo gang and honestly its the best thing ive ever done unintentionally. They just fit so well

@kawaiipotatuh @vango-bango and @sooske yo hi yall said you wanted to read it so i wrote it

sorry sooske i didnt get to shiga in this chapter but hes comin,,,,this is gonna be chaptered so he’ll definitely be in this soon. definitely plot relevant because i love shiggy. 

anyway A/N over time for the story

Rating: T for language and fantasy violence (no nsfw this time this is group friend story)

tags in the tags. some body horror because cryptid-related creepiness yknow. and major character death later on so yknow

if i missed anything tell me, okay now time for the story <3

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Izuku, frankly, was stunned.

“I thought it was just a hobby!”

“A hobby?” Shouto threw back what looked to be his thirtieth Five-Hour Energy, pouring syrup on the pancakes Izuku brought without paying much attention. They were more syrup than pancake at this point, but that was hardly priority at the moment. “A hobby?”

The giant frog sitting on the table between them blinked its left eye, and then the right, after a little delay. Izuku shuddered. Too much frog, too close, too much detail. Very scaly and slimy and bumpy. Frogs were not supposed to be big. But it was easily bigger than his head, almost the size of his torso.

“How did you get it in here?”

“Thawed crickets.” Shouto raised an eyebrow, as if having frozen crickets stored for a time such as this was normal and expected. Like a madman consumed by his own craft, he picked up a syrup-coated pancake with his own two hands, and bit into it. Then he looked at the mess with mild surprise, a gaze that read “What the fuck is this? Where did all this syrup come from?” Izuku didn’t have the heart to answer him. “…You’re underestimating me.”

Izuku shut his eyes, sucked in a breath, rubbing his temples. “So. You found this frog in the woods behind your house. You just so happened to have a pack of frozen crickets-”

“No, that’s not what happened,” Shouto leaned forward, elbows on the table, the plate of pancakes Izuku brought ruined and pushed to the side, with that damned cursed light in his eyes he got when he was about to tell a story, dive head-first into a theory, or conjure up a new way to ditch work. “I’ve been hunting this frog for months. I learn about many creatures when researching,”

Scrolling r/cryptids, Izuku thought. And various other unspeakable 2chan threads and dark web sites. He sighed. Those pancakes were better than usual, too...he managed to remember to use less butter…he forgot that all the time…if he was going to make pancakes in the middle of the night, they may as well be good...what was Shouto talking about? Oh yeah, the frog.

“-and I encountered this post about a kappa sighting. It was confusing, and I almost wrote it off as another incident of someone just seeing something very mundane in the wrong light - until I recognized the location of the sighting.” There it was, Shouto’s rare grin, a look very reminiscent of the cat that finally caught the mouse. “…Heartstone Lake, on the park side of the woods.”

The giant frog grumbled. Loudly. Its chest puffed a little and Izuku felt a wild fear for what a real croak would sound like. This thing was huge. “Uhm, yeah? And?”

“So I went and checked it out.” He went over to his Wall, pointing to photo after photo, and Izuku hummed along, suddenly very, very worried about this frog in the Todoroki’s basement. This could end in many ways, and a very loud croak waking up his dad would be one of the worse ones. “Found tracks. Tracks, Izuku. You have to understand - nobody ever finds tracks.”

Izuku nodded. “Crazy.” He said, noticing how the frog’s eye was starting to slowly roll around, as if looking, scanning its surroundings. He was a little bit more than freaked out. He really had thought that this was just an interest of Shouto’s. Not something he was actually going to pursue, and that it produced a very crypid-like thing, a real result? A part of him wanted to go home and go back to bed, before Shouto decided to find a demon from hell or something. Or before the frog turned out to be a demon from hell. “…Did you do a steak-out?”

“Yes. Many steak-outs.” Shouto sighed, rubbing his face. “For…six weeks. Every night and every spare minute I could get. Along with a camera live feed setup. Only today did I actually see something, and once I did, I didn’t let it get away.” His smile was so wholesome, but the fruit of his labor was probably a harbinger of the void. Izuku was torn between supporting his friend and self-preservation.

Izuku decided to call the two people who would help back him up in whatever answer was the right one. The guardian angels, Tenya and Ochako. Because he needed help.

“I’m gonna call Tenya and Ochako.”

To Izuku’s bewilderment, Shouto deflated, smile dying, abruptly concerned. Izuku sputtered, pausing in pulling his phone out of his pocket. “What?! Do you not want them to know, or-?!”

With a sigh, Shouto grumbled, “Tenya…You know what he’d say.”

Izuku rolled his eyes. “It’s probably what you need to hear, really. Monster or not, this frog doesn’t belong indoors. We could get money for it, and what if it’s a new species or something-”

The other boy sighed. “Fine, whatever-”

The underside of the frog’s throat started expanding. Izuku watched in mute horror as it opened its mouth, and released a croak.

It was louder than Izuku expected. Very much so. His ears were left ringing from the rumbling warble, but that was hardly the biggest problem. There was a lot of thudding and yelling going on upstairs, in the upper levels of the Todoroki household; the family converging in on Shouto’s basement for whatever that definitely inhumane noise was.

Shouto’s dad was the strictest father around, and didn’t allow Shouto to have friends over on weeknights, nevermind late at night; since Izuku, an unapproved friend, basically snuck into the house on a weeknight at the unholy hour of three in the morning, he was breaking many, many rules.

And a giant fucking frog on the table in the middle of the room also would do more than raise a few eyebrows.

Shouto, however, was prepared. He pushed a mysterious white jar across the table to him, and pointed to the basement awning window. “I’ll help,” He said. “It’s actually not all that heavy.”

“Shouto! What was that?! What are you doing in there, it’s three in the morning on a school night-!”

There was his father. However, aside from the actual basement door lock, Shouto secretly installed about six extra locks, so he wasn’t getting in any time soon. “Studying, Dad,” Shouto said, heaving the massive, slimy frog off the table. He nailed he tired, annoyed, exasperated tone perfectly. Izuku opened the jar, and forced down a squeak - mushy, wet, dead crickets. “There’s a science tomorrow, I want to make sure I’m ready.”

His dad went quiet, which was his “you’re probably lying, but finding out the truth is more effort than I’m willing to put in at the moment” response. Izuku’s been witness to it a lot, as this is far from the first time he’s been a Master Lock away from getting caught. Shouto gave Izuku a look, frog in hand, as he opened the small window.

“Studying at such an…early hour is counter-productive. Get to bed, Shouto.”

“Alright.” Izuku shimmied out the window, onto the grass outside, and cringed as he opened the jar and gently picked up a soggy cricket corpse. With some difficulty, Shouto shoved the fat mass of jiggling skin through the awning, and Izuku pulled it the rest of the way out.

“Don’t let it out of your sight,” Shouto mouthed, scowling a little. Most likely because he was forced to get rid of his first find. Weird giant frog or not, it was really important to Shouto, so he couldn’t lose track of it-

The frog grumbled, and started hopping off.

“Get it!” Shouto hissed, and Izuku ran after it.

It wasn’t as fast as he thought. He caught up to it easily, and offered it a few crickets to bribe it into sitting still for a moment. Shouto’s window shut, and tense yelling ensued; Shouto buying time so he could hide incriminating evidence. His dad probably heard them.

An awkward ten minutes passed. Routinely, Izuku dropped a cricket or two, and the frog stayed put. Eventually, Shouto opened the window again, glaring.

“Take it to your house,” He said. “God knows I’m not gonna get away with hiding it here.” And he shut the window.

“So,” Izuku said, to the monster frog, dropping a couple more crickets. Its tongue flicked out to grab them, and honestly, Izuku feared for his safety. “I guess you’re coming to my place?”

 _______________________________________________________________

 Step one; get it onto his bike.

His basket was definitely big enough for the frog. He could probably stop every couple minutes to feed it a cricket so it wouldn’t struggle too much while he was on the road. It wouldn’t end well for either of them if it decided to upset the balance of the bike on the road.

He lugged the frog into the basket - it really wasn’t as heavy as it looked - and gave it a few crickets before locking the lid. Step two; get it home. That was the easy part.

The ride was mostly uneventful. The route was mostly muscle memory, so it wasn’t hard to hyperfocus on every odd rustle and bump on the back of his bike. He stopped to feed it about five times, and each time its tongue lashed out harder and faster. His fight-or-flight instinct begged him to run away from the very real monster frog on the back of his bike. He channeled the energy into maintaining cadence. If Shouto wasn’t his best friend, and wouldn’t probably murder him if he lost it, he would’ve let the frog hop into the woods when it tried to.

Finally, he reached his plain suburban neighborhood. He considered stopping at Kacchan’s house, but he’d probably kill the frog on sight, so he couldn’t rely on him for moral support. Time to call Ochako up for an early-morning napover. She said “anytime”, right?

Step three; get it to his room. His backyard didn’t have a fence, and he didn’t have a basement, and even if his mom didn’t have a panic attack when she saw the frog, she would definitely tell him to get it out of the house. Any rational person would, really. So. Hiding it in his bedroom was the only choice.

Mom never got out of bed past midnight, so it was easy to trudge inside, to his room, and to lock the door behind him. Then the frog leapt from his arms, and hopped its slimy body onto his bed. Ew. Time to call Ochako.

As promised, she answered by the fourth ring. “…Yaeah…Deku…?”

“Uhm, come to my house?” Izuku chuckled nervously. “Shouto found…uh, a giant frog, but he couldn’t keep it at his house, so I’m keeping it at mine. I need a little moral support?”

“...” Ochako sighed, a very, very long sigh. “...”

“Ochako?”

“What?”

“Shouto found a giant frog-”

“A WHAT?!”

It took Ochako all of fifteen minutes to get to his place, on foot. She took the short route to his room - through his window - and gawked at the frog for another five minutes, school backpack and sleeping bag falling from her hands.

“He - really?!”

“Yeah…”

She stared at it for a long, long time. It grumbled again. Izuku felt a sinking feeling.

“It’s - a giant frog.”

“...Yeah.”

“And…he just…?”

“No, he said he’d been looking for it for the past six weeks.”

“So that’s why he’s been passing out in class?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Ochako stared at the frog. “I thought it was all…”

“He flipped out a little when I said I thought it was just a hobby.” He ran his fingers through his hair with a huff. “This is really important to him.”

“Well…” She mumbled, eyes wide. “We may as well…take good care of it. H…how do you get a frog to go to sleep? Don’t frogs need heat lamps? How do we take care of a frog - a giant frog-” She stomped her foot. “Did Shouto think about this at all?”

She looked at Izuku. He raised an eyebrow in return. And she fell into giggles. “Yeah,” She said. “Let’s get it in front of a heater?”

Izuku left the room, running down to the hall closet to get a heater; on his way back, Ochako suddenly screamed.

He ran to his room, and to his horror, the frog was, for lack of a better term, erupting. Blowing up like a balloon. Ochako shoved him out of the doorway, into the hall, and slammed the door shut.

“What is going on here?” Oh, his mom was up now, rushing down the hall with concern. “What happened? Ochako, very…nice to see you, but at this hour? What’s happening?”

The two teens were speechless. They looked to each other for answers, but found nothing there but shock and general horror. Tentatively, Ochako cracked the door back open.

The frog was splayed about thinly like a shed bag. Sitting on Izuku’s bed now, instead, was a girl with long green hair. And also very naked, the frog broke open and was now a naked girl-

Confusion ensued. Mom screamed a little, shocked by the frog flash bag, and Ochako and Deku screamed because the frog was gone and Shouto was now on the list of people who wanted them dead; then his mom ran in, bringing the blanket up around the girl with shaking hands and firing off questions one after another, and Izuku screamed louder because he realized that somehow the frog became the girl - Ochako screamed louder, because she realized that with Shouto’s internet skill and wide range of information sources, there was no way to hide from him.

“Izuku, who is this?! Why is she naked?!” Mom turned to him with an unfamiliar demanding tone. “Explain! Now!”

“I don’t…!” Izuku was, completely, lost. “I don’t know…! I think - she was-!?”

Ochako stopped screaming, and said, “We don’t know! She - the frog - it exploded and - it was a frog before-!”

“A frog!?” Mom shouted - his mom never shouted. Izuku felt like reality was fraying at the seams. “What-”

“RIBBIT.”

Everything stopped. Ochako stopped. His mom stopped. Izuku felt like he suddenly lost the ability to breathe, like someone clicked ‘end task’ on his lungs and his panicking head.

The girl’s eyes were very, very big, an expression of pure confusion and shock on her face. “RIBBIT!” She screeched, again.

“R…’ribbit’…?” Mom said, weakly. “What do you mean…?”

“...” The girl stared at Mom with a wild lack of recognition. Not just that she didn’t know who Mom was; she had no idea what she was seeing at all and was completely lost. Izuku was almost as lost, really. “Ribbit…”

Ochako swayed lightly, gripping Izuku’s arm. “S-so - the frog was there before - did she come out of the frog…?!”

Izuku looked at the frog flesh and slime splayed on his bed. “…P…probably…”

His mom’s expression faded from extreme shock and confusion, to general surprise. “Izuku, Ochako, please explain - what is this mess - who is she-”

“I don’t know!” Izuku burst, shaking a little. “I don’t know! It was a frog before and now its a girl and Shouto didn’t tell me and I don’t know-”

“Izuku-”

“Izuku, baby, calm down,” Mom quickly crossed the room to him, softly taking his hands. “It’s okay, I’m sorry I yelled. I’m sorry. Let’s have some tea, and we’ll talk about it, okay?”

“...O…okay.”

 _______________________________________________________________

 Tea with a splash of honey was always good. It warmed him down to his core. The girl seemed to also be enjoying it, if her regular sips were any indicator. Even if she was a bit tentative, slow, testing about it, each time.

His mom sighed heavily. “So, according to your story, she’s…”

Ochako hummed. “Yeah. I don’t believe it either. We should call Shouto.”

“He’d love this,” Izuku mumbled, staring into his tea. “He probably knows what…she is. I certainly don’t.”

“...Well,” Mom glanced at the girl. She had a permanent frown on her face. “We’ll deal with this tomorrow. Today, we’ll…well, It’s already five, isn’t it?”

Izuku dropped his head onto the table. “One hour. Please. I want sleep. I didn’t sleep at all.”

“Ditto,” Ochako also dropped her head, with a heavy thud. “No sleep. At all. I almost was asleep, but then Deku called…”

“Sorry…”

“’S alright….I wouldn’t wanna miss this.” She huffed a laugh. “Somehow, I’m glad I saw it live.”

Mom sighed again, sounding old. “Okay,” She said. “You only have about two hours, though. Remember, you both promised you would ride to school this year.”

Izuku groaned, muffling himself on the wood table. Ochako also whined. The girl watched the both of them curiously.

His mom agreed to watch the girl while they napped; Izuku was so not sleeping in his bed, so he took Mom’s bed instead. Ochako splayed out over one half of the king-sized bed while Izuku took up one third, sharing it because his mom’s bed was wonderful.

It was, without a doubt, the worst nap of his life. Because just as he was getting settled in and kind of almost sleeping, the six o’clock alarm on Mom’s bedside table buzzed loudly. Along with the knee Ochako unconsciously jammed halfway up his ass and her loud drool-snore-choke-drowning, he kind of wanted to die, to get some real sleep. The reason why he stopped sleeping in the same bed as Uraraka Ochako came back to him. Violently, in the form of a foot mysteriously journeying its way up his pants. She was just the weirdest sleeper.

He untangled himself from the covers and Ochako and trudged down the hall. He went to his room, intent on grabbing a shower before school.

He grabbed his clothes from his closet and was on his way to the bathroom before he suddenly recalled what happened last night. Where the fuck was that girl-

He ran around the house, looking for her and Mom - the car was gone from the driveway. His mom had work early in the day, so that was normal, but the girl was still nowhere to be seen. Where was she?!

He texted his mom urgently, and she responded, I left her at home. She should be there with you. Have a good day at school <3

One, was he really going to just leave her at home all day? And two, she was absolutely nowhere to be seen. He checked the kitchen, the living room, all the closets, both bedrooms, and their house was one floor and small as fuck, so there wasn’t many places to hide. She was gone.

And then Ochako screamed. Izuku could probably guess where frog girl was.

He ran to Mom’s room, and there she was, Ochako standing on the bed in a martial arts defensive position with frog girl sitting on the floor, blinking cluelessly, now dressed in spare clothes Ochako left here. But she still had such an alien air around her that it felt like the clothes didn’t quite fit her. She confounded Izuku on every level.

Izuku was cobbling together some way to react to the situation when his phone started ringing. He answered.

“H-hello?!”

“Is the frog okay?”

Shouto. Izuku felt a range of emotions, from relief to joy to murderous intent to numbness. “…It turned into a person, Shouto. A girl. Did you know this would happen!?”

A silence passed.

“Shouto?”

“...S-sorry, I…”

“Shouto, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just…” He sniffed faintly. “I wanted to see it.”

“You knew it would happen?!”

“No, but I had a feeling. Part of the witness reports described a frog standing on two legs like a person, and even people with frog-like features, y’know, like a person, but a frog.” Shouto sighed. “So either it was just one creature that could shapeshift to varying levels of frog to humanoid, or it was many creatures that were all varying levels of frog to humanoid. Like kappas or something.” Something tapped rhythmically in the background. “I wished I could’ve seen the shift. Do you still have the shed skin?”

“For what, Shouto,” Izuku was, frankly, pretty fed up. The frog girl was now on top of Ochako and very closely watching her, scanning her features. “What are you going to do with a giant frog flesh bag, Shouto.”

“Research.”

“Shouto.”

“Testing.”

“Shouto! You’re missing the-”

“Fine!” The other boy huffed roughly. “I’m gonna call Mei and cash in a debt to use her research facilities.”

“Shouto, I love you, but you have a C in chemistry. But that’s beside the-”

“She’s going to examine the frog skin, okay?! That’s it! Sorry I don’t have a genetics lab in my fucking basement!”

Izuku tried to be exasperated, but he ended up fighting back a smile. “N-no, Shouto, that’s not - I - whatever Mei has to do with it, it’s a nasty sack of frog skin, Shouto. I was talking more as in, ‘it’s absurd that you would want it, so why’, not ‘you don’t have the means to do anything with it, so why’.”

Shouto went quiet. “…” It was a long, self-depreciating quiet.

“Look,” Izuku said, smile fading, because fuck, Shouto drove him crazy sometimes. “Get your ass over here and help me decide what we’re going to do about her. She can’t stay here while we’re at school all day, can she?”

“I don’t see why not,” Shouto mumbled. “Can’t take her to school. Can’t let her loose.”

“Shouto, you have the skin, basically, so you have a model of what the crypid frog looks like, right? And proof?”

“Yeah. That’s the best part.”

“So do we really need to keep her?” Izuku watched as the girl tried to lick Ochako with a freakishly long tongue. Being a reasonable human being, the brown-haired girl was scrambling away before she made contact. “She’s…well, I mean, endangered species preservation, right? And - I dunno, what’re we gonna keep her for? She looks like a person, kind of…it’d be weird. Morally.”

“...How human does she seem?”

“One hundred percent. She has big eyes, but that can be passed off as a feature, y’know?” Ochako ran to the doorway - the girl opened her mouth wide, tongue flicking out, and it reached all the way across the room, wrapping around Ochako’s waist and pulling her back in. Izuku flinched as his friend shrieked. “…But her tongue is super long and weird, like a frog’s, and she currently has captured Ochako with it.”

“...Well, human meat doesn’t sit well with frogs, so she isn’t going to try to eat her. Unless she’s an adventurous type or something. I mean, she is a monster, so she’s probably full of surprises. Don’t trust her.” Shouto laughed, like this was a joke. Izuku didn’t find it very funny...How did he know that human meat doesn’t sit well with frogs…?

Ochako was released once she was dragged close enough for the girl to grab her. “So we’re just gonna leave her in my house for the day.”

“Yeah.”

“There are hazards everywhere, Shouto.”

“She’ll probably be fine.”

“But what if my Xbox isn’t, Shouto? What if she burns my house down, Shouto? What if she breaks my Xbox Shouto-”

“Forget about your Xbox,” Shouto snapped. Izuku gasped loudly. “It’ll be fine. She won’t mess with anything. I think. And like you said, if she escapes, it isn’t that bad. As long as the skin is still there, she exists. That’s all I need. I have to take a shower before school, I smell like black coffee and steroids. Later.”

And there he went. Almost angrily, Izuku pocketed his phone and said, “H-hey!”

Frog girl looked at Izuku boredly. “Help me,” Ochako begged, held captive by the two arms around her waist. Izuku debated the pros and cons of tearing her away from the literally mutant creature. What was the likelihood of survival?

“We have an hour before we meet up with Shouto,” Izuku stated flatly. “I’m taking a shower first.”

“No!” In a flash, Ochako twisted free of her bindings and was out of the room, and zooming down the hall. “You take all the hot water!”

Izuku sighed. Frog girl, covered in her own hair like she was drowning in it, stared at him with wide green eyes. He averted his gaze, nervously.

“U-uh, hi,” He said. Wow, could he be any more awkward? Well, she wasn’t human, so it wasn’t like she’d pick up on any of human societal nuances-

“Hi.”

She said. She fucking said. She said?! She said. She talked. She said words. She said ‘hi’. Whoawhoawhoa - it had to be simple parroting, it had to be just-

“Where did she go.”

Izuku felt the inexplicable urge to cry. “Wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-”

Frog girl stared at Izuku, eyes peeking between strands of hair with a strange light. “Where is she.”

“I-I-I-I-I-d-d-d-d-on’t-”

She stood up, and walked past him with halting, almost jerking steps. She left the room, and looked one way, then the other. “…”

“O-O-Ochako?!” Izuku felt like curling up in a corner and sobbing wildly. He felt like he just looked into the void and it talked back to him. He felt a number of things, and all of them involved some level of existential terror. “Sh-she’s i-in the sh-shower…D-don’t-”

She was already on her way down the hallway. Izuku didn’t really think upsetting this being of mysterious and potentially reality-breaking power was a good idea. Technically, she was another girl, so it wouldn’t be that weird for her to walk in on Ochako, right? Uh.

Right on cue, Ochako screamed. Izuku groaned. By finding this cursed being, Shouto effectively turned his life upside down. For better or worse was yet to be seen. But from how Ochako was currently fighting frog girl out of her shower, it was probably for worse. Would his life ever go back to normal?

 _______________________________________________________________

 By some miracle, they managed to get on the road on time, meeting up with Shouto on the way. While he and Ochako rode very practical bikes, he rode a skateboard. Why, he refused to really tell. If he wasn’t wearing his school uniform, he’d look like he was in the wrong decade. And somehow the uniform made it look even tackier. But it was alright. It wasn’t like he was bad at it; in fact, he pulled many moves that were reminiscent of a certain famous skateboarder, but he was also from the wrong decade. Somehow, it suited him. He, to a concerning level, didn’t care what other people thought of him, so it was okay. Just weird.

“So,” Shouto said, cruising along with Ochako, keeping up easily despite having much smaller wheels. Also weird. “Show me a pic of her.”

“A what?” Izuku blinked.

“A picture.” Shouto raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you didn’t take a picture.”

“...”

Ochako shrugged, rhythmically tapping her bell. “Didn’t think to.”

The boy huffed. “You guys are the worst,” He said. “How are we supposed to get proof that she shapeshifted if we didn’t get the after picture?”

“Shouto, I’m tired,” Izuku sighed. “I’m sorry. But this is way over my head. I’m not good at…this paranormal cryptid stuff. It’s fun when it’s just creepy stories, but - I dunno, this is too much.” He shuddered. “She talked. Just, started saying words. Like a normal person - super blunt and to the point, but it was like she said it like that on purpose. She knew. Just like that. And she was a frog before-”

“She talked?!” Shouto’s eyes lit up. “What did she say? What did her voice sound like? Ugh, I wish we got it on tape-”

“Shouto!” Izuku snapped. “Pay attention! Forget that stuff - I don’t want any part in it anymore! I’m scared! After school, we’re gonna let her go, and that’s gonna be the end of it! Okay!?” If there’s even a home to return to, Izuku thought bitterly.

Shouto stared at him, blankly. Then he looked away. “…Alright.”

Ochako whistled. “You guys fall out hard,” She said. “I give it…three days before one of you starts apologizing.”

Izuku’s face burned. He was the one apologizing, most of the time. But not this time, He thought resolutely. He wasn’t at fault here. Shouto was going to apologize to him, for dragging him into this mess in the first place.

 _______________________________________________________________

 [10:25 A.M.]

nessie: im dying. im actually dying

shouto: why

nessie: what the fuck is a lamange

nessie: mange is a disease

nessie: in french it means what??? food???? kill me

shouto: it means eat

shouto: pay attention in class and you might get it

nessie: fuck you

nessie: youre the last person i want to hear that from

shouto: ow

nessie: Rip Believe It Or Not

shouto: Ripley’s I Know This Stuff Is Real, But I Can’t Handle It, Dog

nessie: nibyguvtfcu

nessie: so you do get it

shouto: get what

shouto: what

nessie: oh my god

nessie: Oh My God

nessie: you are a national treasure

nessie: you know that

shouto: ??????

shouto: ?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!!what am I missing now

nessie: shut up for a minute teach coming

shouto: well I hope not thats a little inappropriate

---

[10:30 A.M.]

nessie: shouto holy shit what the fuck oh my god what the fuck

nessie: dude

shouto: yeah I sent that without thinking

shouto: and then I couldnt send a correction because

shouto: and yeah

nessie: dude

pppppppppppink: whats happening

pppppppppppink: oh wow what was that shouto hahahahha

shouto: oh my god look it was an accident

tenya: ochako its hardly fair to make fun of him for that

tenya: it was an honest mistake

nessie: tenya coughs, “unfortunately”

shouto: say that shit to my face deku

shouto: whos on the football team huh

nessie: surprised you caught that

nessie: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

shouto: i am going to kill you,

pppppppppppink: hey no death threats on my friendly christian minecraft server

nessie: deadmeme

tenya: yes, death threats are not the way to handle strife between friends

tenya: but neither were those insults, izuku

tenya: you know shouto’s skill does not warrant comments such as those

nessie: hes gonna get a coma i know it

tenya: what does that have to do with anything

nessie: football

nessie: caveman sport

tenya: that is inappropriate

shouto: dudedudedude look man

shouto: im sorry okay

nessie: FOR WHAT SHOUTO

shouto: I DONT KNOW

pppppppppppink: wow that was fast

tenya: please quiet teacher

------

[10:35 A.M.]

shouto: look man I dont know what youre so angry about

nessie: im not angry

pppppppppppink: izuku coughs, “im furious”

nessie: im n o t

tenya: izuku i believe you are, in fact, angry

nessie: im not angry

shouto: youre angry

nessie: SHOUTO WHAT THE FUCK MAN

nessie: EXCUSE ME IF IM A LITTLE SHAKEN UP ABOUT YOU DROPPING A FUCKING FROG DEMON ONTO ME

shouto: i wouldve kept it if i could

shouto: but i forced it onto you without asking

shouto: sorry

nessie: “sorry if i valued a mythical creature above my friends feelings”

shouto: well fuck

shouto: i tried

shouto: yeah fuck you

shouto: i wouldve loved to have it

shouto: you love it when i talk to you about it so what the fuck is the difference

nessie: THEYRE JUST STORIES

nessie: S T O R I E S

nessie: I DONT WANT THEM TO BE REAL

nessie: ITS TOO MUCH

nessie: ITS SCARY

shouto: dude theres always a chance of the stories being real

shouto: you didnt know that

nessie: dontdothat

nessie: i dont want to think of them like that

nessie: no one wants them to be real

shouto: i do

nessie: yeah but ur a weirdo

tenya: foul

pppppppppppink: yeah try again

pppppppppppink: stay within bounds

nessie: are you reffing our fight

tenya: yes

tenya: go on

shouto: dude if you dont want any part of it then ill take her okay

shouto: okay?

nessie: that isnt it

nessie: because ur gonna be all weird about it and be all offended

nessie: bullshit

nessie: were gonna straighten this out here

nessie: rn

tenya: as a distraction in class.

nessie: sure

shouto: im not gonna be offended

pppppppppppink: hahahahhahahhha

shouto: im not

tenya: you will be offended

nessie: you will be offended

nessie: you dont think my fear is valid

shouto: being scared of it and pushing it away isnt going to make it disappear

shouto: theres a monster under your bed whether you want it to be there or not

nessie: oh my FUCKING GOD SHOUTO

nessie: THIS IS WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT

nessie: YOU DONT LISTEN TO ME

shouto: i am

shouto: im doing nothing but listening to you

shouto: im getting on aizawas nerves

tenya: he means respect

tenya: you arent respecting him

tenya: as evidenced by you “twisting the knife”, for lack of a better term

tenya: you understand that stories of paranormal activities entertain him?

shouto: yes

tenya: the rift seems to lay in the fact that although he enjoys them as stories, he does not wish them to be real, intimate experiences

tenya: this is where you two seem to split

tenya: because you strive to live the stories

pppppppppppink: *is eating popcorn* marriage counseling :D

shouto: i mean who wouldnt

nessie: I DONT I DONT I DONT I DONT I DONT

nessie: NONONONONONONONO

nessie: UCK AMN DO YOU THIINK I WANNA FUCKING

nessie: THAT IS

nessie: NOOONONONONOONONO

shouto: shit man calm down

shouto: so it scares you

nessie: fuck yess??? you get it????finally????

shouto: why

[nessie has left the group chat.]

pppppppppppink: dude you messed up

shouto: .

tenya: i advise understanding

tenya: not everyone feels the same way you do

shouto: well duh

shouto: but it isnt scary

shouto: .

pppppppppppink: are you hearing yourself? finally?

pppppppppppink: not to be mean, ur just

pppppppppppink: really dense :D

tenya: to him, it is scary.

tenya: and thats just how he works

tenya: youll have to respect that

shouto: but its not scary

tenya: that is an opinion, shouto

tenya: not fact. it varies from person to person

tenya: you have to respect his opinion, shouto

shouto: .

shouto: god

shouto: fine

tenya: now what’s this about a “frog demon”?

pppppppppppink: ohohoohooho

shouto: first of all, it isnt a demon

pppppppppppink: do i have a story for you!

 _______________________________________________________________

 Izuku settled on giving Shouto the cold shoulder. It lasted out of school and on the way home, even as they pulled up to his house. Even as he kept pestering him with his constant, creepy, begging stare. Fuck him. Because if he talked first, he’d end up apologizing. And he couldn’t do that. He wasn’t the one at fault.

The frog girl was gone. They searched high and low, all over his house, but she was nowhere to be seen. Izuku found the frog skin wrapped up in the dumpster outside, and threw it at Shouto without a word. Shouto didn’t say anything, either.

“Hm,” Ochako popped a sucker into her mouth. “I changed my mind. Two days.”

Izuku grumbled, flushing bright red.

“I find this whole story a little hard to believe,” Tenya said, and Izuku felt a wild urge to punch him. “You mean to tell me that this so-called giant frog split open and turned out to be a young girl? Who is now missing?”

“Tenya, I wish it didn’t happen,” Izuku crossed the driveway, grabbing the taller boy by his quarterback shoulders. “I wish desperately that it didn’t happen. But it did.”

“Oh yeah,” Ochako said, nodding. “It was crazy. I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t been there.” With a shrug, she added, “Still kinda in doubt. It was super late.”

“Maybe it was a dream?”

“No,” Shouto said, coming up to show Tenya something on his phone. “Pictures. Video. It’s real. The frog, at least. I also have samples at home. I did some research - actually, there are some frogs that can grow up to about the size of our frog, but they can only live in equatorial Guinea. Without the girl, the skin only proves that a new species of giant frog lives in the area unless they map its genome or something.” He shrugged. “Not the story I was looking for, but cool nonetheless.”

“’Story’?” Izuku bristled. “What are you even looking for, Shouto? Why are you doing this at all?” Whoops. But he couldn’t help it. He’d been wondering it for a while, but this was the breaking point. Would he just hand the girl over to scientists for testing if he did have her? Would they take advantage of the fact that she isn’t human to do whatever they wanted? What was Shouto getting from this? Money? Fame? He wasn’t the type who would search out stuff like that, so what-?!

“Huh?” Shouto tilted his head. “...Why not? It’s fun.”

He could scream. Angrily, he stomped back to the porch, yanking open his door and ready to lock it behind him-

-and the kitchen was a mess, like a tornado whizzed around in the few moments they went outside. The dining table was on its side, chairs thrown around, cabinets raided and foodstuffs everywhere. The fridge was open, and judging from the aggressive clinking going on, someone was there. Izuku could probably guess who it was. But why now? She barely touched anything, earlier.

And then she peeked above the fridge door. Izuku screamed.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

if anyone knows how to color text please tell me because i spent a lot of time coloring the chat messages in the original doc and im sad it didnt carry so please and thank you tell me,

[larryfanfiction]

New Year’s Eve AU

🎆 One Minute to Midnight by QuickedWeen (29k)

Louis Tomlinson is at the height of his game in Boston’s financial scene. He’s got the instinct, and he’s got the guts to take calculated risks that make everyone around him a lot of money. Everything is going well until the day after he gets promoted when he wakes up forty years older than his actual age.

Two years later he’s adapted to his new life as a retiree, but he’s lonely and desperate for company closer to his real age during the rigorous holiday party season. He gets some questionable advice from Niall and turns to the Seeking Arrangement app where he finds Harry Styles, a local actor he’s been a fan of since they had an undergraduate class together. But what happens when a few dates here and there isn’t enough?

🎆 And Touch Me Like You Never by runaway_train (35k)

“Lets move back a bit yeah?” Harry clutches at his waist with a free hand and tugs him to move through the crowd until they are almost at the back of the group and settles them both beside the far wall. “There. That better?”

Louis looks up at him, as if he’s a tad dazed. “Uh, yeah, thanks. Can’t really see much from back here either though.”

Harry lifts a shoulder and grins at him, placing a hand on the wall behind Louis to pen him in. “We’ll just have to create our own fireworks then, won’t we?” He says it jokingly with a wink, and Louis laughs but he seems nervous. He must know that Harry is harmlessly flirting. Harry flirts with everyone after all, including Louis.

“Do you think this is a good idea Haz?” Louis asks quietly, almost too quietly in the clamour of the room, his head bowed as he scuffs his shoe on the carpet.

“Stop over thinking it Lou, it’s one kiss. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Or

The one where Harry and Louis agree to be each other’s New Year’s kiss and it ends up being a lot more than they bargained for.

🎆 The Stories That I Can’t Explain by kikikryslee (6k)

“Are you closing?” the woman asked, rushing into Louis’ store. “I just have to pick something up!” “I’m really sorry, but if you come back on Tuesday, we’ll be opening again at normal time,” Louis told her, trying to get her out of the shop. “No, please! I-” The woman dropped her head, and Louis watched in horror as she started crying. He didn’t do well with tears. “Please, I just have to pick up a ring, it’s- It’s for my brother, and he’s well… He’s dying. And it’s really important that I get it.” Louis could feel his mouth drop open even farther than it already had been. “Um…” Just then, a man walked into the store. He took one look at the woman and rolled his eyes. “Gemma, you haven’t told another stranger that I’m dying, have you?” he asked. The woman, Gemma apparently, turned to face him. “Of course I didn’t, Harry,” she said. — Or, the one where no one is actually dying, but Gemma likes to lie about Harry’s livelihood to get what she wants. Harry isn’t amused. Louis kind of is, though.

🎆 A Dream is a Soft Place to Land by lululawrence (4k)

“It’ll be like a perpetual sleepover, Lou,” Harry had said. “It’ll be great.”

And it was…except it also meant that Louis’ long time, barely there crush on Harry had only grown into a full fledged, real life version of playing house where Louis all too often found himself pretending he and Harry really were together when they definitely were not.

Or the one where Harry might have told his friends that he was dating someone and has to show proof for their party on New Year’s Eve. His best friend and roommate Louis is the obvious choice…but things don’t exactly go as planned.

🎆 2018 and The Rest of Forever by StayTillTheAM (4k)

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

One of these days Louis will take Liam’s annoying analog clock from the wall and smash it to the ground. He might even make it his new year’s resolution.

Louis’ been sat on the couch for the past hour, trying to focus on the cooking show playing but instead he got distracted by the damn ticking object on the wall in front of him. It just hangs there, mocking Louis and seemingly ticking as loudly as possible just to remind Louis that she and Time are in control. To remind him that they won’t wait for him. To remind him that the closer they get to midnight, the closer Louis gets to having another year wasted.

Because 2017 is almost over and Louis still hasn’t found his soulmate.

- - - - - - - -

Or the New Year’s Eve fic where 2017 refused to give Louis his soulmate, and 2018 might change that for him.

🎆 LoveJoy by Snowy38 (13k)

“Dance-mat!” Liam voted.

“Guitar hero,” Zayn chirped up.

“What about a game of Trivial Pursuit?”

The voice was deeply serious and even Louis grinned as Harry leaned forward in his seat.

Three faces scoffed.

“Jesus, Hazza, live a little,” Niall teased.

“Is that what a wild night is like for geeks?” Zayn wondered.

“No, that would be more along the lines of driving out to the middle of nowhere and camping in a field to study the interstellar medium of the Orion Nebula,” Harry quipped with a little, happy smile.

��� Never Walk Away (A Man Can Be Kind) by LiveLaughLoveLarry (8k)

Louis and Harry have recently ended their three year relationship. But maybe a little holiday magic can bring them back together.

~*~*~

“I don’t know why you’re so nice to that louse,” Oli says as the taxi pulls away from the curb.

Louis glances back through the window. Harry is still standing on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, watching them go. “He’s not a louse,” he says absently.

“He hurt you.”

“I hurt him,” Louis replies. “And he didn’t mean to. It was inevitable. It’s not his fault. It is what it is.”

Oli is silent for a long moment. At last, he sighs. “Someday you’re going to have to stop being afraid.”

🎆 haven’t you heard by allwaswell16 (8k)

Harry Styles has been in love with Louis Tomlinson since they were eighteen. After six years together, Harry is ready to propose to the love of his life. The holidays strike him as the perfect time for a romantic proposal, but his well-meaning friends and family (including his self-appointed best friend, Niall) seem to thwart him at every turn.

Or the four times Harry tries to propose, and the one time he gets it right.

🎆 Yours In Fractions by FullOnLarrie (23k)

Louis and Harry are strangers who, because of a mix up, share their mutual friend’s apartment and bed over the holidays.

🎆 till our wide eyes burn blind by wonderously (7k)

au. harry and louis get snowed in together on new year’s eve.

🎆 I Think I’m Addicted to Your Light by supernope (9k)

Louis is just zipping back up when the door swings open with a swell of noise and someone shuffles up next to him, shoes tapping loudly against the tile floor. Louis turns to see who’s walked in and just violated the code of the men’s toilet by taking the urinal next to him and is met with wide, green eyes and red lips stretched into a brilliant smile.

“Happy new year,” the guy grins, shaking long, curly hair away from his face. “You look sharp. Sorry, do you mind holding this for a minute? I don’t really have any place to keep it and it’s kind of a hassle, getting out of these things. Don’t want it to fall in.”

He indicates his legs with the hand clutching a pale pink phone, and Louis’ gaze drops. Speechless, Louis takes the phone, eyes locked on the guy’s legs. His gorgeous legs, clad only in a pair of black thigh-highs held up by a silky black garter belt.

🎆 Running Down To The Riptide by sweaterpawstyles (4k)

“I can’t give you your present yet, Lou.”

Louis furrowed his brows. “And why is that, my love?”

Harry smiled at his lap. “Because your present is under my sweater,” he pulled his free hand that wasn’t laced with Louis’ and gently laid it on his stomach. “I’m pregnant.”

Or

It’s New Year’s Eve and Harry has a surprise under his sweater

🎆 So Baby Tonight Just Be the Death of Me by crimsontheory (12k)

He hasn’t had much to drink, just enough to make everything feel warm and soft, kind of like the boy currently pressed up against his side.

Louis glances around the room and thinks that even though there is a couple leaning against the wall, a little too close to him, very heatedly making out, and he can hear the faint sounds of someone throwing up in the kitchen sink, and that the whole house smells of sweat and stale alcohol, there is no other place he’d rather be than on this couch with Harry curled into his side.

An AU where Louis is new in town and Harry invites him to a New Year’s party.

🎆 the clock is ticking, ticking by smokinglarry (2k)

Louis’ timer is about to hit zero in a few seconds and he’s stood at Westminster Bridge because it’s New Year’s Eve and here are so many people, how is Louis supposed to find his soulmate ? He’s lost.

(people have timers engraved into their skin that show them when they’re going to meet their soulmate.)

🎆 six feet beneath the moon by starseas (25k)

AU. takes place over one night. harry and louis meet at a going away party.

🎆 How Would You Feel (If I Told You I Loved You) by Only_angel_28 (81k)

An AU inspired by the music video for Ed Sheeran’s song Perfect featuring two idiots who are too thick to see that their friendship is anything but platonic, lots of pining, too many terms of endearment to count, a wedding, slow dancing, a couple of steamy hot tub moments, karaoke, snow, a healthy dose of cuddling, love confessions, and Harry and Louis being quite generous to each other.

*Or the one where Harry has been in love with his best friend for four years, and New Year’s Eve at his family’s holiday home in Switzerland is perfect for finally telling Louis how he feels.

More Masterposts

[klanstability]

Updated Fic Recs!

It’s been literally a thousand years since I last updated my fic rec page (as always), but I’ve finally gotten my shit together. These go all the way back to mid-August, and I was really bad at keeping track of what I read and I don’t use bookmarks on AO3 like an idiot, so I’m definitely missing a few good ones, but I’ll get to that some other day.

"Fractal Glances Beyond a Shattered Plane" by 2towels

Teen | 30k

“Our containment study of that magic isn’t giving us a lot of information but what we can tell is that it was nasty, and it targets. You remembering stuff that didn’t seem important enough to erase—like Clarabelle Cow, or how to milk Kaltenecker, or simple stuff—is normal because it never reached the husk stage Coran keeps talking about.” Distantly, Lance echoes, “Husk stage.” -- All he has is a cow, a ship, and a rockin' tattoo, but boy howdy if he's going to let that keep him from getting his memories in order.

"meteoric" by zukos

Teen | 7k

It doesn't matter how good-looking the son of Aphrodite thinks he is. Keith isn't going to sleep with Lance. Ever.

"best friends?" by Lynn1998

Explicit | 9k

Lance and Keith have been friends for a long time, but what happens when hormones start to get in the mix?

"Hang the DJ" by Ehlihr (Elihaha)

Teen | 13k

“Lance can't get along with someone who likes the Smiths, he tells himself, after Allura rejects him and his Michael-Jackson-esque proposal for a date because she "prefers the Smiths".

Then, Keith (the boy who Lance does nothing but compete with in gym class) gives him a mixtape of his 'favourite Smiths' songs', to which Lance promises he won't listen to any of them. Proceeded by Lance listening to the tape on repeat for an entire weekend.

[Inspired by 80s music, high school life, and riddled with their awful slang.]

"life after death" by taylortot

Teen | 40k

Fear clambers into his mouth and tastes bitter on his tongue. “Who are you?” It takes him a moment to register the sound of his own voice. She stares at him. Blinks. “Lance, please, this isn’t time for one of your jokes--” He furrows his eyebrows and struggles to sit up, to stop leaning into the cradle of her arms. “I’m not--I’m not...joking.” * After sacrificing himself to save Allura, Lance wakes up in a strange new world where the only thing he knows is a deep connection to a boy he doesn't remember.

"The Futures Full of Clones" by jilliancares

Explicit | 20k

Keith accidentally winds up in his future self’s body, who he then has to pretend to actually be because apparently the future is full of clones who will say or do anything to trick Team Voltron. In the future, anyone acting out of the ordinary is a suspect, and Keith can't afford to get his future-self killed by being incompetent. This is only made harder by the fact that he has to pretend to know what it’s like to be a boyfriend, because in the future, he and Lance are dating.

"To Catch A Thief" by orphan_account

Teen | 5k

“You’re him,” said Keith, hardly able to believe it himself. “The Collector.” He laughed, grin wide. “That’s what you guys call me? Classic.” Eyeing Keith up and down, the man leaned against the gallery wall, next to Van Gogh’s Blossoming Almond Tree, with a coy grin. “That’s too formal, though, so call me Lance.”

"baby, you're a haunted house" by seabear 

Teen | 6k

The thing is? Lance doesn’t even really like Halloween.

"dynamic" by kagshina

Teen | 17k

“So, uh,” Keith starts, and Lance notices the way he shifts, like he’s not quite sure how to say what he wants to say. “How are we gonna...do this?” Before answering the question, Lance makes a quick list in his head of things he should never do: 1. Ask the boy he has a huge crush on to be his fake boyfriend for the sake of proving a point (even if Lance thinks he’s going to say no, because apparently he might actually say yes!)

"I just wanna make love to you" by DairyFarmer

Explicit | 26k

Both Paladin and Blade stood in silence for almost a full minute, staring at each other with indiscernible expressions (or at least Lance thinks the latter is, can’t really tell with the identity protecting mask adorning their face.) Before he can stop himself, he opens his mouth with a smirk curling at his lips. “You come here often?” Lance asks, tilting his head coyly. XxX In which Lance hooks up with a masked Marmora member, unaware he might know the person a little better than he thinks.

"Jealousy Thy Name is Lance" by RandyDowager

Teen | 8k

“I heard that you like someone,” he admitted. Wow, it hurt to say it out loud.

"when the lights go out" by dimpleforyourthoughts

Teen | 18k

Date and a Fifth: a type of party in which everyone must come with a date and a 750 ML bottle of hard alcohol (fifth). However, you must stay zip tied to your date until the two of you finish the entire bottle together. // (In which Lance needs a date, Keith needs cash, and maybe they fall in love along the way.)

"Feel me, I'm running through your veins" by Queerklancing

Explicit | 2k

“Hunk?” Lance pulls a face at the hoarse sound of his voice. “What’s this smell?” “Uh, yeah,” Hunk says and rubs the back of his neck. “Keith … asked me to give this to you.” He takes a few more steps towards Lance’s bed and hands him a dark cloth. Lance can feel how his body reacts the moment he realizes what he’s holding in his hands. It’s Keith’s shirt.

"three minutes to closing" by Yuisaki

General | 1.5k

“So you don’t know his name,” Pidge says slowly. “And he says meme-y things. And he always comes in three minutes before closing, and—” “Always leaves on the dot,” Keith adds. “And uh, he never orders the same thing twice in a row.” Pidge’s face is blank. “A customer who leaves at nine on the dot and never orders the same thing twice in a row,” she repeats. She opens her mouth, closes it, and taps at the screen of her tablet, hopping off the counter. “I’ll just tell everyone I didn’t get the answer out of you.” “Pidge,” Keith protests. “I mean it.” “And I think you have a cryptid customer,” Pidge says. (or: eccentricities in a small coffee shop where a cuban boy with cute dimples only exists three minutes to closing.)

"sweep him off his feet" by hcneylesbian

Teen | 25k

“I win.” Lance’s rapid breath hit his face, and that’s when Keith realized how close he was. He was close enough to see small freckles dotting across Lance’s cheeks, and to see his eyes taking him in. After a moment, he was just surprised Lance hadn’t pushed him away. “What were you down here for in the first place?” Lance’s face was red—Keith presumed he was flushed from the workout. “Hunk made lunch, I thought you might be hungry. Plus, I hadn’t really seen you all day.” And Keith was pissed that something in that sentence made his face fall of all cockiness, replaced with surprise. “Oh,” he said simply. Lance’s breath was finally evening out, but he still hadn’t shoved Keith off his waist. -- In which Keith and Lance keep having bonding moments until it's almost too late.

"i don't wanna let you love somebody else but me" by ericawrites, killproof

Teen | 16k

A stellar collision is the coming together of two stars caused by gravity, gravitational radiation, or other mechanisms not well understood. Any stars in the universe can collide. Keith and Lance do.

"Cereal Sweepstakes and Other Bad Ideas ft. Lance McClain" by ruralfishingcat

Teen | 50k

After winning a free session from a cereal contest, Lance decides to visit Voltron Skydiving. Unfortunately, there's only one employee working at the time and he has a stupid mullet. And to make matters worse, Lance seemingly can't escape interactions with him.

"flesh and blood (you deserved to be loved)" by rosedvst

Teen | 12k

Lance is melting under the intensity of Keith’s words, the sincerity of his voice, the softness of his heart. Falling for him all over again, but in different ways--not just for his smiles and his hands and his iridescent eyes, but for his heart and his voice and the way he makes Lance feel--tender and warm and deeply, deeply in love. Keith is like the ocean, Lance thinks, in that he is incredibly deep and beautiful and dangerous and dark. And when you get too close, he pulls you in like the sinking tides. Whether or not you embrace him is up to you. ☆ﾟ. * ･ ｡ﾟ Or, Lance dreams of Earth's oceans to put out the fire raging within him. Falling in love with Keith happens somewhere along the way.

"put the stars in our eyes" by keithkin

Teen | 7k

Keith turns his body and brings his legs onto his bed, sitting criss cross with his shoulders hunched up near his ears. He wants to say something, and he can tell that Lance is waiting patiently for him to find the words, but he isn’t sure that it’s possible to form something eloquent. So, he says, “are you disappointed?” He doesn’t look at Lance when he speaks. He doesn’t know that he’d like what he would find on the other’s face. “Well, I’d rather not be glowing right now.” Lance responds. or: after years of Keith not having a soulmate, something changes.

"Nightmares" by Trashness

Teen | 15k

Lance's nightmares are getting out of control. It's effecting his and the team's performance, but he's at a loss for how to fix this. Apparently sleeping next to a warm body helps.

"fit the crown to my head" by aknightley

Teen | 76k

“What’s the fun in a masquerade if you don’t flirt outrageously with the prettiest person in the room?” the young man says flippantly, and then winks at Keith. Keith huffs a laugh, amused. “You keep saying things like that, but you haven’t seen my face,” he says, gesturing to his mask. “I could have warts under here. I could have spots, or scars.” “You’d be lovely even with all of those,” the young man says, and he suddenly sounds serious. It takes Keith by surprise, makes his heart twist along with his stomach. “Your eyes,” he continues, tilting his head. “I’ve never seen eyes like yours before.”

"Everybody's Got a Hungry Heart" by 2towels

Teen | 3k

“I’m Lance! Nice to meet you! Can I ask you something? Just fielding here, no funny business!” No, Keith wants to say as he glances at Pidge’s circle again and sees her throw her head back and scream something victorious at the ceiling. He doesn’t even think they’re playing flip-cup anymore. “Shoot.” He says instead, peering mysteriously into his drink as he moves his hand from over the lip of it. It’s just water, but clearly something has afflicted him if he’s going to indulge the guy. Maybe Pidge’s enthusiasm is infectious from across the way. Lance’s lips quirk very wide before he seems to be able to calm his expression. “Well, I am a sharpshooter!” He blurts, blinking when Keith blinks in turn at him. His shoulders bunch, then, and he barrels on, “Nevermind. Anyway, uh, would you ever date a zombie? Quick survey.”

[theaggresivepacifist]

and you, my oldest friend

For the lovely @thegoldensoundtwice, based on this amazing post.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Since I moved home from college in May, I’ve kind of lost contact with a lot of good friends and colleagues, and your amazing blog has been a little bit like having a friend to chat with – especially about the wonderful world of Redwall. Even though we don’t really know each other, your kindness, sense of humor, and incredible eloquence (I will NEVER be over the fic you wrote for me!!!) has been such a gift, and so instead of studying for the GRE I wanted to write you this tale as an early Christmas present and a heartfelt thank-you. Surprise!!!

It is un-beta’d, massive af (I think almost 7K words, so let me know if you’d like a .pdf!), and a tad bit angstier than I was going for at first, but hopefully still an entertaining yarn.

Cheers!!!

It was a glorious midsummer’s evening when she saw Redwall Abbey for the first time.

Her grandfather, a silver-furred old badger named Buckthorn, had told her stories about it, of course, promising to take her there the next time they held one of their fabled feastdays. He was a good storyteller, perhaps the best in Mossflower. But even he couldn’t do it justice.

The Abbey stood tall and proud and majestic at the border of the woodlands, battlements and belltower of ruddy sandstone soaring to the sky. The setting sun gilded the myriad ivy leaves that crept across the stone, turned the climbing roses to an incandescent shade of ruby red. The broad main gates stood open to all comers, and inside she could see colored lanterns glowing in the branches of the trees, reflecting in swirls of red and yellow on the surface of a tranquil pond.

Constance had never before seen anything quite so beautiful.

  A motely group of squirrels, mice, hedgehogs, otters and moles welcomed them to table at once, as if they were old friends, and loaded their plates with the most delicious-looking foods a creature could imagine: breads and cheeses, salads and pasties, puddings and berries and flans. All of them were talking at the same time.

“Welcome, both of you! You look famished! Here, this plum cake goes perfect with clotted cream.”

“How about some of this hotroot soup?”

“Don’t be shy, take a few more of these nunnymolers.”

They were given places of honor at a table of Abbey Brothers and Sisters, pleasant mice in cowled brown robes.  Being  rather solitary by nature, Constance spoke with them only when spoken to, preferring to let her grandfather hold the conversation. She devoted the rest of her attention to eating serving after serving of the scrumptious food and watching the other jolly creatures with interest.

As supper was winding down, with everyone sipping their favorite drinks and nibbling at their favorite sweets, some of the woodland guests, the two badgers included, took it upon themselves to provide entertainment for their kindly hosts. A troupe of voles played reels and jigs on a battered bodhran and sweet-toned reed flutes; a family of harvest mice performed several comedic skits. But Constance and Buckthorn’s act was the most anticipated of the evening. Many Redwallers had never even seen a badger in the fur before, as old Mara, Redwall’s last badger mother, had gone to her rest many seasons ago. The pair of them performed feats of marksmanship with yew longbows, and Constance obligingly wrestled stout waterhogs and burly otter champions, shaking them off like raindrops as the Redwallers shouted words of advice and encouragement.

“That’s the stuff, missie!”

“Hohoho, ole Skip’ll be sore for a full season!”

“Hurr, moind the choild don’t toss ’im into yon pudden!”

She enjoyed the competition, the adrenaline, the feeling of her own strength. The attention was slightly overwhelming. Having humored her hosts, she left her grandfather deep in conversation with old Abbot Cedric and slunk off to the orchards with a pawful of mushroom and leek turnovers, throwing herself down on the cool grass to eat. The night air was velvety-soft, sweet with the perfume of rose and blackberry and late blossoms, and she snuffed appreciatively at it between bites of savory pastry.

“Peaceful, isn’t it?” said a quiet voice, surprisingly close at paw.

Constance bristled slightly, but then relaxed when she spotted the creature, resting against the trunk of a neighboring plum tree. He was just a young mouse, dusky brown, wearing the sandals and sage-green habit of a novice. His eyes were wise and kind.

“I always like to come here in the evenings,” he continued. “It’s nice to sit and watch the sun set over the Abbey. And it’s especially nice to be surrounded by all these good creatures, and hear them laughing and enjoying the feast.”

“I live with my grandfather in Mossflower. I’ve never seen so many creatures all at once,” Constance said. It was unlike her to admit something like that to a strangebeast, but the mouse’s gentle manner somehow put her at ease.

“Do you have many friends in Mossflower?”

“Not really.”

“Well, now you’ve got lots of them here.”

Constance had to smile at that. She extended a broad black paw and gave his a gingerly shake.

“I’m Constance. Pleased to make your acquaintance, friend.”

The mouse made a grave gesture in return, bowing his head over his own folded paws.

“My name is Mortimer,” he said.

  By the end of the feast Mortimer and Constance were inseparable; the one’s serious nature perfectly complemented the other’s slight shyness. When she and her grandfather returned for the autumn harvest he showed her around the interior of the Abbey: the dizzying height of the belltower, the best places to sit in Great Hall, the labyrinthine aisles of the cellars where their resident Cellarhog kept special firkins of mulled wine and flowery mead.

Of course, they were both still young creatures, so these sights were soon followed by a tour of the spookiest corners of the attic, the hallways with the best curtains to shelter behind during games of hide-and-seek, and the kitchen larders that held the best snacks. They played in the crisp autumn leaves and dared each other to step paw in the icy pond. He also introduced her to Martin the Warrior, explaining the legend to her as she gazed, transfixed, at the richly embroidered tapestry.

“A mouse fighting a wildcat,” she marveled aloud. “I can’t wait to tell my granddad about this.”

“I thought you’d like to know about Martin,” said Mortimer. “He was brave and strong like you.”

“And then a mouse of peace, like you,” she replied thoughtfully.

  Buckthorn was growing too old to make the journey to Redwall as often as Constance would have liked, and so in the springtide she argued and pleaded with him until, finally, he gave her permission to make the trip on her own. She woke well before dawn, packed a generous haversack of supplies, and set out through the woodlands at a steady pace, already full of excitement for the day she had planned. The miles passed swiftly. She arrived at the Abbey by midmorning, just as the Redwallers were finishing their breakfast, and stealthily motioned for Mortimer to leave Great Hall and join her in the orchard. He was thrilled by the surprise, but also full of questions.

“Why are you being so secretive? Where’s your grandfather? How in the name of seasons did you get here so early?”

“I’m here to take you on an adventure,” she told him in a stage whisper. “Think you can sneak out to Mossflower for the day?”

“I’m not sure I’m allowed,” said Mortimer. “I have to help with the washing for the dormitories and –”

“Come on! I’ve been to Redwall lots of times, now you should see where I live. Just tell them you can’t do it! Make something up!”

“I’ll try. Wait here.”

He disappeared for several minutes, leaving Constance to sample some of the early gooseberries. Finally he returned with a subdued expression and a heavy green travelling cloak draped over his Redwall habit.

“I told Brother Oswin I was gathering herbs for the infirmary,” he said, already self-reproachful.

“Don’t worry, it won’t be a fib. We can find some on the way back.”

He cheered up as soon as they set paw in the emerald forest, where new leaves were budding and a kaleidoscope of varicolored wildflowers were blooming. He had never been so far into Mossflower Wood before. Constance named the many birds for him by their plumage and their dulcet voices, and Mortimer paused often to admire fuzzy bumblebees and jewel-toned dragonflies, or flitting butterflies with wings like stained glass.

After a few hours’ march they sat down on the riverbank to rest, shaded by the boughs of an ancient willow. Mortimer said a simple grace over their midday meal. Constance watched the way his eyes closed, his shoulders relaxed, his paws steepled.

“What is it like, being in the Order?” she asked him, around a mouthful of strawberry preserves.

“Well, there’s a lot of book learning.” He brushed oatcake crumbs from his lap and cut a wedge of yellow cheese studded with hazelnuts, whiskers twitching thoughtfully. “Lots of history. We learn about the founders of Redwall and where they came from, and about the rules and vows that all Abbeymice live by. But our most important duty is to provide help and healing and charity to any creature in need of our assistance. Just a few days ago there was a poor weasel with a racking cough –”

“You mean you let vermin into the Abbey?” Constance interrupted.

“He was an honest creature. Sister Teazle and I made him a draught of strong herbs. He was as good as new by the next morning, and gave us some beautiful mussel shells in token of his thanks.”

“He probably came by those while he was off pirating at sea,” she replied dryly. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but you can’t trust just anyone. There are a lot of dishonest creatures who would try to take advantage, even here in Mossflower. We’ve had quite a few brushes with robber foxes and ferrets.”

“Trust them or not, my duty is to help them if they require it,” Mortimer said patiently. “But I suppose it’s safer living at Redwall than out here in the forest.”

“I don’t know. It’s not so bad.”

“Oh dear, I didn’t mean it that way at all, truly. Mossflower is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen. I think I could stay here by the riverside forever.”

“Well, I think Redwall’s got to be the best place I’ve ever seen,” said Constance, pleased by her friend’s compliment.

“Who knows! Maybe you could come and live there someday.”

  After luncheon they crossed the stream, picking a careful path over the slippery stones, and made their way at last to at the badgers’ cottage. It was a snug little house of smooth clay, built back against a rock shelf so that the soft-mossed surface served as the fourth and largest wall. Trailing nasturtiums wove over the doorway and windowsills, their flowers like bright medallions of orange and sun gold. Inside were tables and chairs of Buckthorn’s making, carved out of honey-colored wood, and little trinkets from his many travels: pressed mountain flowers, many-colored stones, bits of seaglass worn smooth as silk.

“It reminds me of our Cavern Hole at Redwall,” said Mortimer, his eyes aglow.

“A neighbor helped me to build this place, a clever old beaver, when I first came to this part of the woods.” Buckthorn straightened from stoking up the hearthfire. “That were when young Constance here was but a tiny badgermaid. Her gran was still with us then.”

“She must have planted that wonderful herb garden of yours.”

“Aye, that’s right. She was a healer like you are, y’know. There’s some rare plants growing there that might interest you.”

The old badger and the young mouse were kindred spirits. Over the course of the afternoon Buckthorn swapped stories with Mortimer and shared with him some of the badger lore that Constance had known since she was a cub, the workings of the tide and the secret phases of the moon, the way to sense the first changings of the season – even old fireside tales, like that of the great snow badger who brought deep winter to Mossflower Wood. Constance was just about to remind them that they needed to get back to the Abbey before nightfall when a sudden spring rain began to lash through the trees, obscuring the woodlands with a heavy sheet of silver.

“Not travelin’ weather, I’m afraid, young ’un,” said Buckthorn, shaking his grizzled head. “You’ll have to stay here for the night.”

“Oh, no,” Mortimer groaned. “I’m going to be in a lot of trouble when I get home.”

“Don’t worry. We can leave as soon as the sun rises,” said Constance, secretly ecstatic that the elements had intervened. “Let’s have a cup of tea, and then I’ll show you how to make a seafaring dish my granddad taught me. Skilly and duff!”

In the morning, as promised, they set out at a run with the first rays of dawn, slipping and squelching on the muddy road. Though they made it to the Abbey in record time, Mortimer’s prediction was soon proved correct. Brother Oswin was waiting for them at the gate with a face like yesterday’s thunder. Without hesitation he took hold of Mortimer’s habit sleeve and began lecturing the young mouse severely.

“We were up all night worrying about you. Abbot Cedric was about to send out a search party! And where in the fur is the sanicle and valerian you were supposed to be gathering?”

Constance blushed at the Brother’s righteous fury, beginning to feel sorry for the part she had played in the whole affair. But Mortimer, recalling the sleepless night they had spent telling tales and playing games while the rain drummed on the cottage roof, could only smile.

  For many happy seasons they visited back and forth in this way, growing up and growing ever closer, Constance trekking to the Abbey for feastdays and bringing Mortimer back to the cottage to enjoy languid spring and summer evenings by the riverside. She eventually taught him how to find his way through the woodlands unaccompanied by reading the signs of moss and leaves, and after much effort prevailed upon him to carry a stout ash staff with him on the road (“Someday I won’t be there, and you might have to defend yourself!”), though only because he decided he could use it as a walking stick.

Mortimer made his way to the den often in the winter days when Buckthorn’s health began to fail him, brewing soothing teas and medicines, keeping him company while Constance slept. When the old badger went to his final rest it was Mortimer who said the funeral service, tenderly placing a bundle of early quince on the grave Constance had hacked from frozen ground.

Several days had passed since then, and the two of them sat at table together, sharing a jug of blackcurrant wine to drive off the icy chill. Constance was red-eyed but composed.

“I was thinking of taking some time to myself. Travelling someplace new, like my granddad liked to do.”

“Outside of Mossflower?”

“Perhaps.” She drained the last dregs of her cup, set it carefully back down on the tabletop. “He told me a lot of stories about Salamandastron, the mountain of the fire lizard, where his father and brothers ruled. Maybe it’s time for me to pay a visit there.”

“But surely not until the springtide, friend.”

“No. No, I’ll wait until the snow melts.”  Seeking to reassure him, she gave Mortimer a tired smile. He had taken his final vows and now wore the wide-sleeved brown robe of an Abbey Brother, which made him look, if possible, more solemn than ever. “But the sooner the better. I don’t think I’m meant to spend the rest of my life as a farmer. You’ve already found your path, you old fogey, and I’m glad for you. I don’t have that yet.”

For a moment silence fell. It was an end and a beginning. They always had known it might come to this, but hoped it never would. 

“You’ll come back to us, won’t you?” Mortimer asked her.

“Of course I will.”

  ***

  It had been a long struggle across shifting sands, chilled and buffeted by the wind. Her mouth was full of grit and her paws stinging from the many tiny cuts left by jagged rocks and sharp blades of spiky sea grass. She was hungry and thirsty and weary to the bone.

But at last, after weeks of travel, the great mountain was in her sights.

A military hare in a buff-colored coat was waiting her at its base; curiously, he seemed to have been expecting her for some time. He swept off his jaunty feathered hat and made a low bow, to which she responded in kind.

“Is this Salamandastron, the mountain of the fire lizard?”

“The very place! And surely you must be the charming Lady Constance, daughter of Iris and Birchstripe, grand-niece to Lord Oakpaw the Valiant, eh wot! By the left! My pater’s pater served under your great uncle!”

“Just Constance, thank you,” she replied firmly, shaking his paw with a grip that made him wince.

“Just Constance, what an odd moniker! Right-o, I’ll give you the full tour. Please to jolly well follow me, madam!”

He led her upwards through a warren of stone corridors, grey and bleak, but fresh with bracing sea air and the tangy smell of salt and seaweed. He was chattering all the way.

“This, dear gel, is the ancestral home of badgers such as your good self, although it’s a few seasons since our valiant Lord went off questing after some wicked corsairs to the south—vile creatures, nasty tatty rats, all of ’em, need a lesson in cold steel. And so but a few of us gallant and handsome hares, such as myself, the humble Corporal Merriwether, remain here, guardin’ his domicile while he’s away, keep the home fires lit, so to speak. I’ll show you the common areas, dormitories and kitchens of course, the forge room, the terrace gardens, perchance even the entrance to the sacred jolly hall of badgers itself…but here’s the ticket, just the place to start. The mess hall!”

As they approached Constance could hear a commotion – at first what she thought was the sound of several creatures shouting, but then recognized as one creature doing three or four different voices, as the mood suited him. Corporal Merriwether sighed.

“That’ll be one of our new recruits. My apologies for the disturbance, marm.”

They rounded the corner and found themselves abruptly in the Salamandastron dining hall: brightly lit by westward-facing windows, with a crackling fire along one wall and long wooden tables and benches arranged in the center of the room. A slightly bucktoothed grey hare in regimental red was leaping and bounding from table to table, his long ears flopping comically about as he berated his lunching comrades, each of whom ignored him steadfastly. Constance had never in her life seen a creature behaving in such an outrageous manner.

“Cowards! Bounders! Fiends! Yah boo, ya rotters, I can outscoff any three of you with my paws behind me back, so there!”

“Steady in the ranks there! What’s all this about, you young terror?” barked the Corporal. The mad hare came smartly to attention and threw him a swift salute.

“Sah! Was simply interested in a little pie-scoffin’ competition, sah! First beast to finish their pie jolly well wins, sah!”

“You ’orrible animal, what on earth for?”

“Simply a spirit-raisin’ game, sah, fun for the troops, good for the morale, eh wot!”

“I could eat,” said Constance mildly, to general surprise. Several of the Long Patrol hares instinctively stood upon seeing the badger in their midst, and the red-coated hare made an elegant leg.

“By Jove! Honored to have such a worthy opponent, I’m sure! May we commence with the challenge, sah?”

The Corporal looked doubtful, but turned on his heel to shout in the direction of the kitchens.

“Oh, dash it all, if the badger Lady wants to humor the lower orders…Cook! A mushroom ’n’ tater pie for the young badgermiss, wot!”

Constance took a seat on a comfortable bench across from her challenger, who sat poised with wooden fork and knife hovering over a massive golden-crusted pie. In a twinkling a stout hare came hurrying over to place before her a pie of similar size, tugging respectfully at one of his ears.

“With the compliments of me goodself, Cook an’ Colonel Puffscut, marm. Rules for a Long Patrol scoffin’ competition are simple: on the count of three, start eatin’. First beast to finish their plate’s the winnah. One…two…three!”

Without further ado the hare across the table began shoveling down forkfuls of pie, gravy dripping from the corners of his mouth. All eyes were on Constance, who in turn was watching her challenger with great amusement. She waited until he had almost finished his portion before locking eyes with him, opening her massive jaws, and wedging the entire pie into her mouth. After three leisurely chews and a draught of nettle beer she swallowed and shrugged at him, wiping her paws fastidiously on a napkin.

“What was that you were saying about outscoffing three creatures at once?”

There was a smattering of applause from the Long Patrol hares, most of whom were glad to see their eccentric comrade taken down a peg.

“Good show, marm!” the strange creature cried sportingly, still covered in mushroom gravy, as he extended a paw for her to shake. “The name’s Basil Stag Hare, doncha know. I think we two fellow faminechops would make awfully good pals!”

“I certainly ’ope not,” the Corporal remarked despairingly to the Colonel. Constance had to hide a sudden grin.

  She soon fit in at the mountain fortress: she was a badger in her prime. The hares kitted her up with a runner’s pack and sling, and she took to galloping alongside the patrols in daylight, telling jokes and gulping nutbrown ale by firesides at night. She spent hours in the forge room, smashing metal into arrowheads and sword blades, although she still preferred a simple javelin or the strength of her own limbs above all else. Basil, the renowned, if ridiculous, fur ’n’ foot fighter, taught her to box, a pursuit in which she excelled. A single right cross from one of her massive paws was enough to lay low a ferret or stoat (or once, by accident, an unprepared Lieutenant Swiftscut) for half a season.

A few of her most impressive feats became the stuff of legends in later days, such as the time when Basil convinced her to skip kitchen duty for an unauthorized day of leisure on the shore. It was a baking-hot summer’s morn, and they had unbelted their weapons so that they could swim in the cool green sea. They then sat wolfing down purloined fruit salad and honeyed damson tartlets, using a massive chunk of driftwood – perhaps the wreckage of a lost corsair ship – as a table. It was the badger who heard the approaching pawsteps first, and turned to see two weasels and a fox trying to sneak towards them, toying with their bladehilts.

“I say, chaps,” Basil said, feigning indignance. “This is a private party, d’you mind?”

“Shaddup, rabbit!” snarled the fox. “Don’t try to go fer yer weapons, they’re too far. Wot kind of vittles have ye got there?”

“Oh, a smidgen of this, a smidgen of that. ’Fraid there’s not enough left to share.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Hand ’em over, or I’ll gut ye!”

With eye-blurring speed the fox drew his rusted cutlass and slashed at the air a hairsbreadth in front of Basil. The hare sidestepped and moved swiftly to stop him, but Constance was faster. With a mighty heave and a sky-shattering roar she levered their picnic table out of the sand, sending food flying and swinging the heavy spar in one fluid motion in the direction of their assailants.

“Blood ’n’ vinegarrrrr!”

CRACK!

All three vermin were knocked poleaxed to the ground, stricken completely senseless. Constance tossed the spar aside with a snort of satisfaction, only to see Basil dancing about on the sand about like a madbeast.

“What’s the matter? Are you wounded?” she demanded, but the hare was merely overcome with awe.

“Absoballylutely spiffin’, wot! Strewth, I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“Well, I thought I heard him ask you to pass the damson tartlet,” she said modestly.

  Then there was another incident that aroused much mess-hall gossip later, not all of it friendly. Corporal Merriwether, driven half mad after several seasons’ of Basil and the badger’s endless capacity for trouble, had allowed the pair of them out on a weeklong patrol, accompanied by two companions. They were a few days’ journey from Salamandastron, in the last hours of their assigned mission, when a runner named Gurdee spotted a shabby lean-to built precariously against the cliffs. A mangy grey and white rat was crouched outside at a feeble fire. He did not appear to be armed, but Gurdee’s fellow runner, a hare named Bayberry, was taking no chances.

“Paws where we can see ’em, laddie buck! Just what d’ye think you’re doing on these shores?”

“Tryin’ to keep warm,” the rat said dully.

“Wouldn’t happen to be one of Zivka Bluesnout’s scummy corsairs, would you?”

“A deserter, probably,” Basil suggested, in a voice that seemed to propose moderation, but the rat made no reply, and Bayberry ground his teeth together at the slight. With a nod to Gurdee the pair of them drew their rapiers, perhaps seeking to intimidate him into an answer. Bayberry cut the ropes holding together the rat’s dilapidated tent, and Gurdee stirred up the seacoal with the point of his sword, extinguishing the last frail sparks of the fire.

“Stay mum if you wish, but we can’t have questionable characters campin’ out on our Badgerlord’s territory. You’ll need to clear out by nightfall.”

The rat had not made one move to stop this destruction, but instead sat watching listlessly from the sand, one grubby paw splayed protectively over a deep wound in his foreleg. When she saw it Constance barked out a sharp order, her voice echoing off of the cliff walls like a thunderclap.

“Hares, leave that creature alone!”

Obediently they froze, but there was surprise and perhaps even slight resentment in their eyes. Constance ignored them and turned her attention back to the rat.

“How did you injure your leg?”

“Slipped,” he said hollowly. “On the sea rocks, foragin’ the tide pools.”

“When?”

“Few days ago.”

Constance tugged her haversack from her shoulders and began rummaging through it, coming up with a clean strip of bandage and pawful of pungent leaves and mosses.  

“Clean the wound in sea water, and then bind it with these herbs. It may sting, but it’ll heal. In the meantime, you’ll want to stay off it as much as you can. Do you have enough food here to last you a day or two?”

The rat shook his head. Constance dug through the haversack again and then set the last of her field rations, a strong wheat loaf and some good mountain cheese, atop the empty cask that served him as a table.

“Take these and move once when you’ve had time to rest. We’re sorry to have bothered you.”

Then without waiting for a word of thanks she turned on her heel and marched away from the scene, accompanied swiftly by Basil. Gurdee and Bayberry sheathed their blades with a last warning look at the rat before jogging to the badger’s side. They disapproved and did not try to disguise it.

“Not entirely sure I understand you, marm, givin’ away healing medsuns like that to a rat, of all creatures.”

“Rather, wot! An’ beggin’ your pardon, but it sticks in my gizzard to see proper gentlebeasts’ tucker wasted on a villain like that!”

Basil, seeing the strange look in her eyes, was the only one who remained silent. Constance continued to stride ahead at a purposeful double-march.

  On the journey back to Salamandastron she seemed somehow a changed creature, moody and withdrawn. She no longer hungered after battle and danger the way the young hares did. Even the ballads and marching songs, rousing tales of glory and peril and heroism, had lost their charm. She trusted only Basil for counsel, sitting up to talk with him late into the night.

She missed the new green of oak leaves in the woodlands, the ruddy rose of sandstone in the setting sun, the stillness and sweet fragrance of the Abbey orchards. She missed a gentle, kindly mouse in the habit of his Order, cooling his footpaws with her on the banks of the River Moss.

One morning she left the mountain behind and went home to Mossflower Country.

  ***

  She could hear the ringing of the Joseph Bell even from a distance, clear and strong and exultant, and almost in spite of herself began to run, paws churning up the pathsoil. Through the lacework of budding beech and elm leaves she soon saw flashes of pink stone, and then she found herself before the gate. She had to pause for a moment to catch her breath and calm her emotions. She had dreamed of this moment every evening of her journey back; perhaps she would wake up to find that this too had been nothing but her imagination.

Then she stepped forward and rapped at the door.

After a few moments a chubby little dormouse heaved the doors open, peeking cautiously around the corner. At the sight of her his mouth fell open, and he nearly dropped his bunch of gatekeys in surprise.

“May a weary traveler enter?”

“Heavens above!” the dormouse said breathlessly. “You must be that badger our Abbot talks about so much! Come inside, come inside and rest yourself. My name is Brother Abel. I think I remember you from a midsummer’s feast.”

No sooner had the gatekeeper let her into the Abbey grounds than another mouse materialized as if from thin air. Before she could say a word he flung his paws around her, laughing and weeping all at once.

“Constance! Constance!”

“Mortimer!”

“Constance, my dear, dear friend!”

Mortimer was a young mouse still, but his fur was already taking on a tinge of silvery grey. His face was alight with joy. He stepped back to get a better look at her, awed by her obvious strength and size.

“You’re as tall as an oak! Where have you been all these long seasons?”

“You’re the same height as you always were. I’ve been traveling, like I said I would.”

“You must tell me all about it! Let’s go for a walk in the cloister gardens. Thank you, Brother Abel, you can close the gate.”

Brother Abel made a respectful bow, a gesture which surprised Constance. But she soon forgot about it as she related to Mortimer the story of her travels. For what felt like hours she told him of the mountain and the great gray-green sea, the hares she had befriended and the dangers she had faced. With every step they took through the familiar gardens, every time Mortimer laughed at a funny story or gasped at a tale of a narrow victory over vicious foebeasts, her heart felt a little lighter.  

“Well, that’s about it,” she finished at last, wanting to hear about what he’d been doing all this time.  “I’ve had plenty of adventure, like I wanted to. And now I don’t know what to do.”

“So does this mean you’re here to stay?” he asked hopefully. Constance let out a sigh.

“Oh, I don’t know. Does Abbot Cedric have a use for a large, grouchy badger like me?”

“Good old Abbot Cedric. I’m sure he would have, but he went to his rest two seasons ago, I’m afraid.”

“I’m sorry, Mortimer. I know you were close to him.”

“He was a wise and compassionate soul. I hope I am serving well in his stead.”

“What do you mean?” asked Constance. Then, suddenly, she understood Brother Abel’s bow. Mortimer seemed to draw himself up a little, a creature fulfilled and fully at peace.

“Just before Abbot Cedric passed on, he told me that he’d decided to leave Redwall Abbey and all its creatures in my care. I am Abbot Mortimer now.”

  Constance was still grappling with this news when she felt somebeast step on her footpaw. A mousebabe and a small squirrel, both clad in the linen smocks of Abbey young ones, had attached themselves to the hem of her tunic, tugging and pushing. They were addressing her in what they imagined was their best imitation of a badgers’ voice, trying to make themselves sound gruff and fearsome.

“I’mma bigga strong badger, make you falla down!”

“We’re not scareded of anybeast!”

Constance was not used to little ones, but she felt her heart soften. With a wink to Mortimer she scooped the pair of them up single-pawed, tumbling dramatically into a patch of clover and coming to rest with a bump.

“Phew, what fierce warriors! You’ve slain me, you little rogues!”

“Yee hee! Again! Again again again!”

“These little scallawags are Holly and Jessamine, two of our most ferocious Dibbuns,” Mortimer said, smiling. Constance looked aghast.

“Dibbuns? What in the world is that?”

“It’s what we call the young ones here at Redwall.”

“Nonsense. I’ve never heard something so ridiculous.”

“Again again again!” interrupted the squirrelbabe Jessamine, trying to clamber up onto Constance’s head. Constance struggled to her feet in mock exhaustion and bent to take each of them by the paw.

“How about you two ruffians show me and Mor – the Father Abbot to the kitchens first? I’m famished!”

“What does badgers likes to eat?” Holly demanded.

“Naughty little mice and squirrels!” Constance said, raising her eyebrows and showing off her shining canine teeth.

“No!” shrieked Holly in terrified delight, while Jessamine giggled. “They likes chesknutters an’ strawbee cordial!”

“Oh, that’s right! I forgot. I bet you like chestnuts and strawberry cordial too. Here, let’s wash our paws off in the pond first.”

“I think we may have a use for a large, grouchy badger after all,” said Mortimer, with proper Father Abbot-like sobriety.  

  She did not go back to the cottage where she had grown up. Mortimer had tended it for her while she was away, but she felt that with a new chapter of her life should come new lodgings, and had him find a family of poor fieldmice to live there instead. Nights she slept out on the soft grass of the Abbey lawn, waking up drenched in dew. In the early mornings, recalling her Salamandastron routine, she let herself out through the side gate and took long rambles through Mossflower Wood, running, swimming, testing her strength against heavy boulders, practicing with spears, javelins and her grandfather’s longbow, which she kept stored in a mossy log, away from Mortimer’s slightly rueful glances and the peaceful Redwallers’ fearful ones.

But she was always back at the Abbey before luncheon, helping with chores and, mostly, keeping a weather eye on the mischievous young ones, who soon began to call her “Muvver Constance,” just as the grown-ups respectfully referred to her as “the Badgermum.” She had an unexpected gift for caring for the Abbeybabes, and eventually she knew she wouldn’t dream of doing anything else. She traded her woodland homespun for an apron and stout gown, with deep pockets to hold clean handkerchiefs and found toys and coltsfoot pastilles. At mealtimes she could often be found sitting at the young ones’ table, spoon-feeding the smallest of the babes, convincing middle-aged ones to eat their turnips and rutabagas, cuddling and rocking fractious infants to sleep while their older siblings perched on her shoulders. At bedtime she tucked the little ones in, one by one, and hummed old badgerwives’ lullabies or related Martin-the-Warrior legends until the dormitories echoed with the sound of gentle snoring.

Mortimer’s heart gladdened the first time she spoke of Redwall as home.

  ***

  Constance was several seasons his elder, but it was Mortimer who grew old and fragile first. His eyesight grew blurry, necessitating a pair of crystal spectacles. In the winters, when the orchard trees were brown and brittle, and the Abbey grounds sparkled white with snow, his joints sometimes grew stiff and painful. But untiringly he watched over his beloved Redwall, through many peaceful years, as any good Father should: patient, wise, just, kind, with the badger as his strong right paw.

Then came the seasons of Cluny the Scourge.

  In the seconds before she picked up the Cavern Hall table and threatened to smash it over the warlord’s head, she chanced a glance at her friend and saw on his face an expression she’d never seen there before: rage.

In the days afterwards, as Martin was lost to the enemy, as creatures were wounded and killed, this was soon followed by another first, one that startled her even more: uncertainty.

  Constance was bleeding freely from some half a dozen gashes along her flanks and on her paws, wounds earned during a vicious skirmish with several of Cluny’s scouts. Abbot Mortimer worked by candlelight to clean the deep cuts and treat them with herbs. He was unusually silent, not speaking until his work was finished.

“Please try to take better care of yourself, Constance,” he said at last, rather shortly. “You put yourself in danger far too often.”

“I only do what I must, Father Abbot.”

“But if something were to happen to you –”

“You have Matthias and Basil, Jess and Winifred. Redwall would survive.”

“I am asking you as a friend,” said Abbot Mortimer. “My dearest and wisest friend. If we win this war tomorrow it will already have been at too great a price. Do not ask me to suffer your loss on top of everything that has already come to pass.”

Constance was stunned by the emotion in his voice. After a moment she laid a heavy paw on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry to have upset you, Abbot. I’ll try my best.”

It would never have occurred to her to ask him the same. He was as ever the careful, noncombatant Mortimer, a healer and a stretcher-bearer, a creature of peace, and the battle would never breach the Abbey walls to reach him. She would see to it.

  The Father Abbot was awakened by a sword-point at his throat.

  The poison barb on Cluny’s tail had done its deadly work. The Father Abbot was dying.

  ***

  There was much work to be done, after the war ended, but for a while she thought again of flight. Of sandy windswept shores and austere halls of mountain stone. Of the borderlands, of the northlands. Even of the sea. Anywhere but here, where the crimson laterose was still in fragrant bloom, and the big carved chair at the head of Great Hall sat empty, and the verdant gardens were full of mice in wide-sleeved brown robes gathering berries and talking with the Sparra, but none of them was Mortimer.

Yet every time she decided that the wound was just too deep, that she’d go mad with grief if she didn’t get away from here, something – or someone – changed her mind.

Matthias, still victory-stunned: “Constance, what should we do about the Joseph Bell?”

Mordalfus, solemn and deferential: “Constance, where do you think we should house the Guosim warriors who’d like to stay here till the springtide?”

The Redwallers at large, surprising her in Cavern Hole one day with a badger-sized marchpane cake: “Hurrah for Constance! We’d have been lost without you.”

And the young ones, clinging to her apron: “Muvver Constance, don’t be sad.”

  *****************************************

  Slowly summer gave way to autumn, autumn to winter, and winter to a spring whose beauty was beyond compare. John Churchmouse had suggested a season-name upon which they had all agreed.

It was the Springtide of the Warriors’ Wedding!

Constance had spent the preceding week tugging a hay cart far and wide through Mossflower Wood, ferrying creatures to the Abbey for the ceremony that would take place today. Now the Sisters of the order and all her woodland friends had spirited Cornflower away to the dormitories to dress her in cream-colored gown and veil, and Matthias was waiting anxiously in the gatehouse that would become their home, with Log-a-Log and Basil fussing over his tunic, to which he had tied a certain flowered headband that a certain maiden had bestowed upon him, what felt like years ago.

Therefore, Constance was enjoying a rare moment of rest out on the sunwarmed steps overlooking the orchards, as the blossoms danced and the pond rippled gently in a playful breeze. It reminded her of something Mortimer had said. 

I have seen it all before, many times, and yet I never cease to wonder. Life is good, my friends. I leave it to you...

In the kitchens Friar Hugo was making a trifle as tall as two mice, heaping with raspberries, meadowcream, and honey-soaked sponge. Foremole and his crew were filling Great Hall and Cavern Hole with bunches of purple irises, butter-colored daffodils and, of course, cerulean-blue cornflower, while Winifred and her otters lined the cloisters and outside corridors with sweet alyssum and pale pink and white water lilies. Ambrose Spike was shepherding a herd of little ones as they rolled barrels of strawberry fizz, October ale and dandelion-burdock cup to the tables out under the shade. Jess Squirrel and Silent Sam were leaping bough to bough amongst the fruit trees, affixing colored lanterns to the branches.

The friends I know and love are all about me.

Constance remembered another feastday many seasons ago, and a wise young mouse marveling with her at the splendor of the Abbey and the goodness of its creatures, and she felt, for the first time in long memory, entirely at peace.

“Today is a good day, my old friend,” the badger said.

[tattooednursewrites]

Reckless

Masterlist

Summary:  One of my favorite tropes. Near death experience leads to a confession of feelings.

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Prompt:     I considered that option, but you know what happens when I try to be careful.

Word Count:   1502

Warnings: language

A/N:     So, I wrote this for Mee’s MCU Canon Challenge. Many congratulations @imhereforbvcky 7k followers is impressive as hell! The prompt actually spawned two different fics. The basic idea for the Scott Lang (aka Antman) one happened first, and when I sat down to write it, the Bucky one came out. The Scott idea wouldn’t leave me alone, so I wrote it, too. Here’s Bucky’s. Hope y’all enjoy!

Reckless

The first thing you noticed was the beeping. It was loud, rhythmic, and bloody annoying. You opened your mouth to tell it to shut up - and felt your lips crack. Ouch. You tried to wet them, and realized your was mouth dry, too.  Frustrated, you cracked your eyes. The light was torture. You added your eyes to the list of ‘in need of hydration’ and blinked. Oh, well that explained it. No wonder you were pissy – you hated hospitals. You noticed the water pitcher on the bedside table and began to sit up, stopping with a gasp when pain tore through your right side. Ow, ow, fucking ow. Fuck.

Your right arm had an IV with fluids running into it. That should help the hydration issue, at least. You glanced around for a call button, deciding you needed water enough to deal with whoever would answer it. That’s when you saw him. Bucky. He was slumped in a straight-back chair, his arms crossed, his head leaning back against the wall. He was between you and the door. You’d like to think that was a coincidence, but you knew better. Bucky was methodical. He was trying to protect you - or trap you. Possibly both. Strike that… it was definitely both.

 You didn’t want to wake him, really. But you knew hitting the call button would do it anyway. You might as well just wake him and ask him to pour you some water. At least then you could avoid the medical team a bit longer. You sighed, straightening as best you could without aggravating your injured side.

 “Bucky,” you croaked, you tried to swallow, and were about to continue speaking when he moved, his arms uncrossing. You watched as his eyes opened, his head still tilted back, giving the illusion of him looking down on you. Then he startled, sitting up fully, and his face flooded with relief.

 “Thank fuck you’re awake,” Bucky breathed, rising and moving to the side of the bed. You watched him move toward you  distracted, as usual, by the way his body made even the most benign movements sinful.  

 “Not really sure I’d call it awake,” you whispered, trying not to irritate your throat. You nodded toward the pitcher. “Can I…” Before you finished the request, Bucky was pouring a cup for you and setting a straw in it. He held it out to you, and you reached for it with your right hand before wincing, the pain in your side flaring again. And of course, Bucky noticed. You took the cup with your left hand, sipping slowly and reveling in the relief the water brought you. Bucky eyed you as you drank, waiting. Once you had finished half the cup, you handed it back to him, mumbling your thanks.

 Bucky stared at you, and you tried to keep from squirming. He still looked relieved, but now it was tempered with annoyance. That couldn’t be good. Although the details were fuzzy, you knew you were injured on a mission, and you recognized the room – you were in the medical wing at the up-state base. But the middle part, the part with how and why, that was… unclear.

 As you waited for Bucky to speak, and tried to remember what happened, the door slid open. Steve took up the entire doorway, before smiling and moving inside. “You’re awake!” he grinned, pulling the door shut. “That’s great! I told Bucky you’d be up soon. He’s been a bit…”

 “Steve!” Bucky bit out, silencing his friend. “She just woke up, she doesn’t need to hear about it.” Was he blushing? Couldn’t be, right? But fuck if it wasn’t intriguing.

 “Right,” Steve said, shaking his head slightly before turning his eyes back to you. “I’m really glad to see you up though. Do you need anything? Maybe something for pain?” he said, adding the last when you shook your head and winced.

 Bucky looked back at you quickly, studying you. “Yeah, I should let the nurse know you’re awake. Get you something for pain.”

 Bucky was gone before you had a chance to argue. You turned to Steve. “Was that really necessary, Steve?” He grinned. Bastard.

 “Just want to make sure you have everything you need. I owe you,” Steve said, chuckling when he saw your brows drawn in confusion. “I take it you don’t remember?”

 “Not exactly. I know we were at the creepy villa… but it’s still pretty fuzzy.”

 Steve nodded. “Nat and I were getting into position to breach the front entrance. You and Buck were doing the same at the back, so I didn’t see what happened. But Bucky told me.”

 He paused and you made a continue motion with your left hand... “And?”

 “And…” he took a deep breath. “Sam was covering the air… saw a glimmer. Turned out to be a sniper. He warned us and was trying to get to him when the sniper fired.” Steve watched you for reaction.

 “So, a sniper got me with a lucky shot? Bucky isn’t mad at Sam, right? It wasn’t his fault.”

 “That’s… not exactly it.”

 “Just spit it out, Steve.”

 “The sniper was aiming for Bucky.”

 You froze. “Is he okay? The sniper was obviously a shit shot.”

 Steve’s lips twitched and he shook his head. “The shot would’ve hit its mark. Bucky was crouched by the door, ready to breach. It would’ve been a head shot,” Steve explained, wincing. He watched you blink and take a breath before continuing.

 “But,” Bucky cut Steve off, walking toward you, his eyes locked on yours. “Your reckless ass dove in front of a fucking high powered fucking sniper round. I thought I told you to be careful! Did that even cross your mind?”

 All at once you remembered. Sam notifying the team of the sniper. Your realization that Bucky might be a target… the target. You hadn’t even known a shot had been fired when you moved to cover him. Your only thought was that Bucky might be in danger, and you moved to protect him. Of course you did.

 “I considered that option, but you know what happens when I try to be careful?” you asked, watching him blink in confusion. “In this case, I would’ve had to watch you die in front of me. You can’t expect me to…”

 “You’re more important! You could have died, I could’ve had to watch you die!” Bucky broke in, eyes downcast. “And it would’ve been my fault,” he added in a grumble.

 “No, Bucky. It wouldn’t. I didn’t even have to think about it. I couldn’t just do nothing, not with how I feel about you.”

 Bucky’s head jerked up, looking at you, his lips parted and working futilely to form words. Steve cleared his throat avoiding looking at either of us as he left the room. He intercepted the nurse, shutting the door quietly behind them, leaving you alone with Bucky.

 “How…how you feel?” Bucky whispered, his voice wavering. He was staring at you, his eyes wide.

 “I… I didn’t mean to say that. Shit. I planned to keep how I feel to myself. I didn’t want to make things awkward between us… you’re one of my best friends… you are my best friend. I didn’t want to burden you with this.”

 “Burden me with what?” Bucky asked, stalking closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours.

 “I love you, Bucky,” you whispered, watching his eyes close at your confession. “I’m in love with you. Have been for… well, how long have we known each other now?” You gave him a self-deprecating smile. “So, you see why I couldn’t lose you. I didn’t think – I just acted to protect my heart. That would be you, by the way,” you added, touching his hand.

 Bucky looked at your hand touching his, then back at you. He didn’t speak. After counting to sixty in your head, you pulled your hand back. When he still hadn’t spoken when you made it to sixty again, you sighed. “I’m sorry. I… I shouldn’t have said…”

 And then your thoughts stopped. Your words were smothered by Bucky’s mouth on yours. Bliss. You wrapped your left arm around him, pulling him onto the bed beside you, and deepening the kiss. When you finally pulled back both of you were breathless. Bucky rested his forehead against yours before leaning down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I love you, too.” He pulled back and looked into your eyes with a soft smile, before kissing you again. “Always have,” he murmured against your lips. You deepened the kiss again - and groaned when you heard the door open.

 You looked toward the door, seeing Steve who was grinning as he looked at you and Bucky. He was followed in by a flustered looking nurse. “He certainly shouldn’t be in bed with her. With that injury she needs to be careful,” she tutted at Steve, making her way toward you.

 “He’s exactly where I want him to be,” you said, not taking your eyes from Bucky’s. “Haven’t you heard? I’m not good at careful.”