#nevermind me and my silly ramblings i have just been thinking about this too hard lmao

[ivypond11]

i've been obsesing over a tlt twilight au solely because of the silly edit with harrow seeing alecto alla bella seeing edward and.

it's so silly and dumb but gideon being the vampire and ianthe being the werewolf and they both obsessively pin over the weird loner wet rat harrow that just moved into town. i wanna say camilla, palamedes, dulcinea (the real one), protesilaus, jeannemary and isaac are part of the same family, all vampires, with abigail and magnus being the parental figures (basically the cullens). the third and second houses i'm thinking are all the werewolves, maybe the eight too. i just love the idea of ianthe and coronabeth being raised to maybe one day both take over the pack until they find out coronabeth is in fact not a werewolf. john and all the remaining of the first would be the volturi ofc but all the cavaliers would actually be alive? i haven't thought that far.

[leam1983]

Narcolepsy's always been a problem in the family. Humans get it too, occasionally, from what I understand. In my case, it means you sit down at the bottom of the ocean to have a think and the next thing you know a hundred million years have passed. Not only that, but a weird bit of convergent evolution makes the land-monkeys receptive to your own species' telepathy, and you wake up realizing that you've, oh, driven a few hundred thousand people insane across History. They've seen your back yard, but you've dreamt of their cities, too. Their lives, their civilizations, their bad habits...

The poor cultists; they think I got up from the Atlantic's seabed for them, when what really got me out of my funk was how irrational their economists were. Their scholars accuse me of spreading madness, but what about the factory bosses and landlords that actually break these minds I'd happen to unfortunately innoculate?

Of course, there's a flipside, too. When I'm awake, I can slip all sorts of thoughts in other people's heads. Tacky Pulp Fiction authors would say I'd make a homely woman behave as though she were possessed by the soul of her ancestor, but all I really did was show poor Asenath that she didn't really need to make do with self-absorbed scholars, nevermind so-called propriety! She's a grown woman; she doesn't need some hoity-toity scholars from Miskatonic to sign off on her research!

Excuse me, I, er, got slightly sidetracked, here... My ability also makes everything else easier, too. As I am how others perceive me to be, all I needed was to imagine myself as person-sized, easily clothed and not too squamous, with tentacles that could curve into a smile, three-fingered and clawed hands you'd still want to handshake, and a silly pair of vestigial wings that serve more as emotional markers, now. I climbed up Providence's beachfront with a singlet and a straw hat on, kicked an old rubber ball back at a few kids and spent a few minutes convincing the locals that seeing a dumpy man in a dripping singlet saunter over to the closest haberdashery really was nothing special. Green skin? What green skin? There's nothing there, isn't there? By the time I had clothes on, nobody cared about my wings anymore.

I knew the risks, of course. By day, I'd pick up the local cannery, hire workers and keep them fed and lodged, but as soon as I'd lay down to rest my subconscious would wage war against the sleeping minds that surrounded me. The only way I could muffle out my call was by keeping a consistent sleep schedule, but a fair and flexible factory boss doesn't get the benefit of consistency.

I napped a few times. I fell asleep at my desk a few times. Only one worker died - poor old Johanssen - but he already wasn't quite right, back when I hired him. What was I supposed to do, leave a drunk ship's captain without a ship who couldn't speak more than three words of English before defaulting to Swedish ramblings alone on the docks?! Alone, with no place to stay?!

I may be Eldritch, but I'm no monster!

I try and console myself with the study grants I've financed, the houses I've bought, the marriages I've covered, the baby showers I attended - or the fact that our count of workplace injuries is far, far lower than what you'd find out of an outfit helmed by just any other profit-motivated human, but it's hard not to feel responsible when they call you by your assumed human first name and wonder why you don't have a wife or a family of your own.

I would, believe me; but my call is the one injustice I can't fix. Besides, I can consider my workers' union to be a family of sorts, right? We certainly have enough professional dinner dates together and enough arguments on how the factory needs to be run. All civil, of course - not that it stops outsiders from asking questions.

They say Christopher Thülen is an occultist, a cult leader. They say he comes to people in their dreams. Nope, that's just Chtulhu - what I'm stuck being. Like you never chose to have eyes that couldn't see into the infrared spectrum, for instance. Did you know mantis shrimp actually have jokes about human eyesight? I'd translate a few, but I'm afraid the punches wouldn't land. Get it - mantis shrimps, punches?

Oy. Tough crowd, huh?

No, what I'd like to know, Nodens, is why you, the purported protector of all Reality in the face of my myriad perversions, come to me in the guise of a Federal investigator - after planting scabs in the factory I helped unionize over in Brattleboro...

“When the Old Gods returned, they were surprised how easy it was to amass an army of followers. Turned out all they had to do was offer fair wages and good benefits, with reasonable deadlines and working conditions”

[jobean12-blog]

Booyah!

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,725

Summary: You and Bucky use Tony’s time machine to take a trip back to NYC 1995 and visit Fao Schwarz and have a fun night out. 

Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ 24 hour surprise drabble challenge and Traveling Through Time (which was my idea haha) I decided to do something really sort of ridiculous and silly. Tony built a time machine bc we know he can and the team gets to just have fun with it. It was hard to decide when to go back to but I picked the 90s because it’s part of my childhood. Although, I was way too young to be clubbing then- but I definitely went to Fao Schwarz! haha Anyway, hope you enjoy this. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Silly and fun fluff! Kisses! Some implied sexy fun! It’s just you and Bucky checking out 1995 for a few days, a few fun 90s slang phrases that I hopefully used right HAHA ;) 

“Doll, are you sure this is a good idea?” Bucky looks at you before his eyes scan the time machine in Tony’s lab, the lights blinking sporadically and a low hum echoing off the walls. “I mean, what if we get stuck in 1995?” You give him a good once-over, letting your eyes linger at how nicely his white tee fits across his chest, “listen, you’re gonna love it and you’ll fit right in.” You let your gaze drop to his ass in the tight high waisted jeans before giving your belt a tug and pulling your jean jacket over your shoulders, “let’s go!”

He takes your hand and follows you inside, still unsure about the idea, “I wish this thing looked more like the DeLorean. At least we’d arrive in style. Well, here goes nothing.” Bucky closes the door and takes you in his arms, pulling down the lever and squeezing his eyes shut. For a second it feels like you’re free falling and you shriek, clinging to Bucky in a death grip. When the feeling subsides, you open your eyes and give Bucky a nervous glance. “You ok?” he asks quietly, smoothing some hair from your face. “Yes, you?”

Bucky nods, grasping your hand and pushing open the door of the time machine. “Woah.” You look outside and you’re greeted by the bright billboards of 1995’s times square. The Sony and Panasonic brand names stream across the skyline. “Hey, look at the Coca Cola symbol! That’s so cool!” You start pointing out all the fun things you recognize as Bucky just spins around in a circle, admiring the flashing lights and noises of the city streets.

After turning on the cloaking device for the machine he finally speaks, “ok, this is da bomb! I mean Times Square our time is cool, but this just feels different, lots of energy.” You narrow your eyes at his use of the 90s slang phrase, “are you making fun?” It’s hard to hide your smile when he takes your hand and holds it tightly in his own, exclaiming, “as if! It’s hella good!” You let your laughter loose and clutch your belly, trying to calm your breathing before saying, “let’s start with some toys!” Bucky’s eyebrows raise at the mention of toys and you smack his arm, “not those kinds of toys Buck. Although, we can definitely find some fun shops around here later if you want.”

He winks and lets you lead him away from the crowd to hail a cab. “Are you gonna tell me where we’re going baby girl?” You shake your head and slide into the car, giving the man an address with no name. The driver smiles and takes off, Bucky’s arm sliding around your shoulders so he can pull you close. “Ok, so this is totally fun. Who knew time travel would ever be a real thing?” You giggle and snuggle closer, “only for Tony and a lucky select few.”

When you pull up in front of FAO Schwarz, Bucky nearly jumps out of the cab, “no way! What a perfect idea! I haven’t been here in forever.” He takes your hand and rushes toward the door, stopping so abruptly you smash into his solid back. “Shit doll. I’m so sorry, I just wanted to ask if you had an extra hair tie?” Forgetting all about your dizziness you give him a mischievous smirk, “do I have a hair tie?” Your eyebrows wiggle so fast he starts to fidget nervously, “oh no. I’m definitely sorry I asked.”

You reach into your backpack and pull out a bright blue velvet scrunchie, “here you go Buck.” He first glares at the scrunchie before gracing you with the same look, “fine. Just. Don’t tell anyone.” He gathers his hair between his long fingers and pulls it to the base of his neck, securing it in messy bun with the bright blue velvet. “You. Look. Amazing.”

Bucky rolls his eyes but starts jogging toward the door, holding it open before dashing in behind you. The moment you enter the store you’re hit with a buzz of electricity from all the energy. It’s mobbed and there’s so much to look at you can barely focus your eyes. You hold tight to Bucky’s hand as you two start to wander around, acting like two kids every time you discover something new.

Bucky spots these giant bouncy Earth balls and grabs one, throwing it straight at your head. “Good catch,” he shouts, laughing when you launch it back at him as hard as you can. “And nice throw.” He picks up a basketball next and throws it at the hoop standing nearby, getting a clean shot in. “Now you’re just showing off.” He slides up next to you and pulls you in for a kiss. “Is it working?” he teases against your lips, deepening the kiss.

You nibble his bottom lip and reluctantly drag yourself away, “definitely.” With a giggle you head off toward the stuffed animal section, nearly screeching when you find the biggest stuffed teddy bear you’ve ever seen. “OH MY GOD BUCKY! I neeeeeed him!” When he doesn’t answer you turn around and can barely see his large frame hidden behind the biggest stuffed dog ever. “EEEEEE nevermind! I want him.”

Bucky somehow manages to get you into his arms while still holding the dog, “I think he needs to come home with us. You can hug him when I’m away on missions and you miss me.” You cuddle them both and nod into his chest, “yes please.” Bucky puts him back on the shelf so you can get him on the way out and heads up the escalator. You both smile big when you pass the iconic clock with the train and Bucky leans in close, tucking a stray hair behind your ear, “I love you.”

When you reach the second floor his eyes nearly bug out of his head at the sight of the Lego section. “Holy shit, this is insane!” You watch as he runs from set to set, gawking over how amazing each one is, “doll, you have to see this!” Following him around you can’t help but feel like a giddy kid, helping him pick out some sets to take home, “get whatever you want Buck. It will be fun to do these together.”

By the time you reach the checkout you’ve got the giant dog, several Lego sets and a few other trinkets you couldn’t resist. You stow everything away in the hidden time machine and laugh when your stomach growls, “I need to eat!” Bucky enthusiastically agrees, “let’s bounce!” You laugh while hailing another cab, at this point almost getting used to his usage of the fun 90s phrases, “aiiiiiight, Buck.”

Bucky’s stomach grumbles again and you pat it, dancing your fingers up to his jaw, “we’re almost there.” The food at Nobu does not disappoint and by the time you guys leave you’re full of delicious Japanese inspired cuisine. Bucky rubs his stomach, “I want to eat there every day!” You laugh, “me too! Ok, so let’s head to the hotel and nap and then get changed for our night out.”

You walk along the streets, your pace slow and easy as you enjoy the sights and sounds of everything around you. Once you reach the Plaza hotel you check in and head upstairs to your room, immediately toeing off your shoes and running a bath in the jacuzzi tub. Bucky watches as you remove your clothes and step into the hot water, sighing as it covers your body.

He quickly strips and gets in, situating himself behind you and pulling you between his legs. “If this is what every day in 1995 is like I’m not sure we should go back.” You rest your head back against his chest and moan when he lathers the soap into his hands and starts massaging your head. “I know right. But what about your home skillet, Steve? He’ll miss you so much!”

Bucky quietly repeats the term home skillet, clearly questioning its meaning while you keep going on about the time machine and why you have to go back. It isn’t until Bucky’s metal fingers dip between your legs that you’re ripped from your rambling thoughts.  “Fuck,” you gasp, instantly on fire for him. The next hour goes by in a haze of soft touches, mingled breaths and tangled limbs. By the time you leave the bath your body feels like jelly and you’re more than ready for some rest.

After a nice nap you get up to get ready, changing into a look more suited for the club scene. Bucky eyes you appreciatively when you step out of the bathroom in your crop top and short skirt, “wow you look fly.” You take in his tight jeans and crisp tee shirt, the whole look completed with his leather jacket, “so do you. Ready to party?”

When the cab pulls up to Limelight you can already hear the loud thump of the bass and the line is down the street. “Woah, this place is hoppin’!” You laugh at his choice of words and get on the line, moving your hips and shimming against Bucky while you wait. “If you don’t cut it out I’m gonna have to drag you into a dark corner the second we get in there.” You don’t stop and the closer you get to the door the more you grind yourself over him. “Doll, you’re asking for it.” You turn around and throw him a million-dollar smile, “whatever.”

The instant you step into the club you can feel the air around you shift, the music vibrating through your body as strongly as the energy that radiates off the crowd. Bucky keeps you close as you make your way across the sea of writhing bodies and find yourselves a spot on the dance floor. The dancers on the platforms leave little to the imagination and the rhythm of the music just sets the mood for play. Bucky’s hands roam over every inch of your skin as you lose yourselves in the rowdy debauchery, finding it almost impossible to resist. Bucky’s lips meet your ear in a husky promise, “if you keep moving like this we’re gonna get jiggy with it right here on the dance floor.”

@addikted-2-dopamine​ @bugsbucky​ @buckstaybucky​ @bisousbucky​ @breezy1415​ @buckys-henley​ @book-dragon-13​ @chuuulip​ @eurynome827​ @hiddles-rose​ @hailmary-yramliah​ @hawksmagnolia​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @ikaris-whore​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​ @jhangelface0523​ @jewels2876​ @loricameback​ @lorilane33​ @littledarlinhavefaithinme​ @lookiamtrying​ @littleredstarfish​ @lokilvrr​ @marvelandotherfandomimagines​ @marvelgirl7​ @nano--raptor​ @nerdypinupcrystal​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @randomfandompenguin​ @sallycanwait68​ @tuiccim​ @the-wayward-robot​ @this-kitten-is-smitten​ @yansi1923​

[gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights]

Rating: T

Summary: Ladybug shows up to return his lucky charm. Adrien should've put on something other than a towel. (Ladrien identity reveal fic)

Word Count: 2600

XXX

“When you walk away, you don’t hear me say, pleeeeeease, oh baaaaaaaaaby, don’t go!”  he sang over the spray of the shower.  The acoustics in his bathroom made his voice bearable.  He knew his singing wasn’t the greatest, but there was nothing like being able to let lose and caterwaul in the comfort of a warm bubblebath.

“Simple and clean is the waaaaay that you’re making me feeeeeeeeel tonight, it’s hard to let it go—” 

“Hey, kid—don’t scream, it’s just me—”

Adrien swallowed his shout as he dove under the bathwater.  Soap went up his nose, and he coughed it back out.

“Plagg!  What did I tell you about barging in while I’m in the shower?”  He hugged his knees and scowled.

The kwami lounged on top of a bubble, his paws crossed behind his head.

“Relax, I’m thousands of years old.  I’ve seen plenty of naked Chat Noirs before.  And keep your voice down.”

“What?  Is there an akuma?  Plagg, claws—!”

Plagg flew up to his face, pressing a tiny paw to his lips.  “Shhh!  You’d be better off with her seeing you naked than suited up!”

Wait.  Her?

“Why didn’t you tell me someone was here?”  he hissed.

Plagg rolled his eyes.  “I was trying to.  Someone was too busy screaming and hiding in a pile of bubbles to listen.”

“Who is it?”

“Oh, no one important.  Just your little lovebug.”  He grinned.

“Ladybug?” 

Oops.  He probably shouldn’t have shouted that.

“Oh, uh—I’m sorry!”  Her unmistakable voice filtered through the door.  “I can come back later if this is a bad time!”

“N-no!  It’s never a bad time to see you!”  Even if he did want to just sink into the bathwater and drown at the thought of her hearing his wailing earlier.  “Just give me a second!”

Plagg cackled as Adrien turned off the shower and hastily wrapped a black towel around his waist.

“Oh no,” he groaned, scanning the empty counter.  “I didn’t bring my pajamas in.”  From now on he’d always keep a change of clothes on him, just in case Ladybug ever decided to drop in.  

“Eh, it’s not like she’ll complain at seeing you in a towel.”  Plagg shrugged.

Adrien flushed from head to toe.  Unfortunately, it wasn’t like he had much of a choice.  If Ladybug was here, it had to be for something important.

Making sure his towel was tied securely, he cracked open the door.

“Ladybug?”

“A-Adrien!”  She leaped back from his bed.  Had she been… sniffing his pillow?  Ugh, Plagg must have left his Camembert to ferment under there again.  She probably thought he was a disgusting slob.  He could only hope she’d catch a whiff of his freshly-showered scent and change her mind.

“Do you mind passing me my clothes?”  he asked with a nervous grin.

“Oh, er—yes, of course!  Clothes!  That’s what people wear after showering…”

Was she okay?  He couldn’t remember ever seeing her so flustered.

Before he could tell her where his pajamas were, she was rummaging in his dresser...  and then she was pulling out his red-and-black-spotted underwear. 

Was drowning in the bathtub still an option?

“Nevermind!”  He stepped out from behind the door.  “I’ll just, uh, wear this towel.  It’s more comfortable anyway.”

She dropped his underwear back in the drawer.  “Er, if you insist!”  She grinned widely.

For a moment they just stood there, staring at each other, while Adrien slowly died inside.  Then he noticed her eyes flicker to something on his shoulder.

“Huh?”  He tried to turn his neck at angle to see whatever it was.  He’d just showered; what could be stuck to him?

“Let me,” Ladybug said, rushing forward to brush off his shoulder.  A red rose petal drifted to the ground.

“Oh, haha, where did that come from?”  He ruffled his wet hair.  There was no way he’d admit that he enjoyed bathing in rosewater.  She’d think he was just a snobby rich boy for sure.

(Even if at least half the reason was so that he could smell nice for her.)

He cleared his throat loudly.  “So, um, what can I do for you?”

“Right!”  She smacked her face, and then she flipped open her yo-yo. “I just noticed that you left this behind at your photoshoot when the akuma attacked today…”

She pulled out a red string of pink, blue, and green beads.

“My lucky charm!”  He nearly dropped his towel in his rush to take the charm.  “Thank you so much, my—Ladybug.  I don’t know how I lost it.  This charm is so special to me.”

He cradled it to his chest in relief.  Though at least part of it was probably silly superstition, he always felt better with the charm on him.  

“R-really?”  Her face reddened.  “Why’s that?”

“A really good friend of mine gave it to me.  I always take it to my photoshoots for a bit of extra luck.”  He rubbed the beads between his fingers.  He didn’t have any pockets to put the charm in, so he tied it around his wrist.  “But… how did you know it was mine?”

“Oh!  I must have… ah… seen it fall out of your pocket?”  She ruffled the back of her hair, disheveling her pigtails.

He leaned in closer.  Why did her nervous face look familiar?  His Lady usually seemed so composed.

“Are you lying?”  He grinned, a bit of his Chat slipping out.  

“What?  Psh, no.  It’s not like I know you in real life or anything—that would be crazy!  I’m just—I’m a fan of fashion, so I might have been watching your totoshoot glosely before that akuma attacked—”

“Totoshoot?”  His brow furrowed.

“Exactly, the grotoshoot.  So—you’re charming, I mean—you’ve got your charm back, so I should put a shirt on—I mean—YOU should put a shirt on, and pants, and underwater—underwear!  Which I’m not going to touch again, so.  So I’ll—BYE!”

Adrien should’ve cut off her ramble sooner.  But each garbled word out of her mouth felt so familiar. He couldn’t help trying to place it.

“Wait, Marinette!”  He grabbed her wrist before she could unhook her yo-yo.

“What?  Is something else wrong?  Or did I just sound like such an idiot you don’t trust me to protect Paris anymore—”

His heart sped up as he enfolded her spazzing hands in his.  Marinette.  That’s who her frantic stammering had reminded him of.  And she’d responded to his slip without missing a beat.

“Of course not, my—Marinette.  I’ll always trust you.”

Her eyes blew wide beneath her mask.

“Wha… what did you just call me…?” 

“Marinette,” he repeated, the name sweet in his mouth.  “You’re Marinette.”

“N-no, of course I’m not!  Marinette’s waaaay too clumsy to be a superhero, psh.”

“You gave her the mouse miraculous.  You obviously didn’t think so.”  He smirked and crossed his arms.  The beads on his charm clinked together in her stunned silence.

“You—what—nobody knows about that!  Nobody except—Chat?”

Oh.  Crap.

“Hehe.  Oops?”

She smacked her forehead again.

“Careful, bugaboo, I wouldn’t want you to hurt your mewtiful face.”  He grinned against the rising panic.  Why did he say that?  Why was his gut instinct to pun in times of emotional crisis?  Ladybug knew his identity!  And from the blue-screening look on her face, she wasn’t thrilled about it.

“Oh yeah, you’re Chat Noir alright.”  She groaned and pressed the heels of her palms to her forehead.  “I can’t believe I’ve been staring at Chat Noir’s chest!”

“You—you were?”  He giggled hysterically.  “Like, staring because it’s a nice chest?  Or because it’s just kind of there and I should really put a shirt on because this is weird, isn’t it—?”

“Adrien, your chest is more than nice.  But it might be a good idea for you to put on a shirt before I drool all over your floor.”

They both locked eyes, equally shocked that she’d said that.

“I—you wouldn’t happen to have a bathtub I could drown in, would you?”  she croaked out.

He laughed.  “Not a chance, bugaboo.”   

“Maybe he could kill you with his singing instead,” Plagg said from where he was hovering by the bathroom door.

Adrien and Ladybug both jumped.  Of course Plagg had overheard all of that.  Adrien found himself turning the same color as his Lady’s suit.

“Excuse you, Adrien has a wonderful singing voice,” she said with a pout.

“I—I do?”  He blinked.  “You’re sure you actually heard me?” 

Chloé had always made fun of his voice.  His father wouldn’t let him audition for voice acting positions with singing roles.  Even Plagg, who had an… interesting voice himself, could hardly stand Adrien’s singing.

“Of course I did!  I mean, um… what’s the answer that makes me sound the least weird?”

He laughed, shaking so hard the towel almost fell off.  Again.  He tucked the corner of it more securely against his waist.  He should really go ahead and get dressed, but he was afraid Ladybug—Marinette!—would disappear the second he took his eyes off of her.

“I’m the one standing here in a towel, and you think you’re weird?”

At that, she laughed back.  “I’m the one who didn’t let you get dressed!”

“I’m the one who didn’t let you get my clothes because I was too embarrassed about you seeing my Ladybug underwear!”

She collapsed back in his computer chair cackling.  Both of them were redder than her suit by that point.

“Yeah, yeah, you guys are both disgustingly in love.  Unless you’re going to smooch my kid while he’s practically naked, you should let him get dressed.”

“In—love?”  Adrien squeaked out.  “Ladybug?  In love—me?”

“Can dish it but can’t take it, huh?”  She stood and smirked while leaning into his space. 

He licked his dry lips.  If Marinette wanted to play that game, he wasn’t going to back down now.

“I can take it,” he said quietly, his lips centimeters from hers.  “As long as it’s you doing the dishing.”

“The only dish I want is a nice dish of camembert,” Plagg complained.  But for now, Adrien ignored him.

“Hmm.  Let’s see about that.”  Her arms wrapped around the back of his neck, leaving tingling trails where her suit brushed bare skin.  He was going to pay for procrastinating getting dressed.  If he was unraveling already, there was no way he could handle whatever else she planned to throw at him.

Her lips brushed his.  It was just the faintest touch, but it set his heart pounding.

“Is this okay?”  She asked quietly, her voice suddenly turning shy.  “I know we always joke together, but if this is too weird, or—”

“Marinette.”  It came out as a rasp.  “If you don’t kiss me right now, I might actually die.”

Her laugh fanned out across his collarbone.  “Well, we can’t have that.”

She kissed him.  Really kissed him, her lips interlocking with his, hands roaming down his bare back, and oh man he was wrong.  He might have died if she didn’t kiss him, but he was definitely going to die now that she did.

He held her tighter, tilting his head to allow her better access.

To think that just minutes ago, he hadn’t known his Lady was Marinette, or that she was in love with him.  And now this.

He finally pulled back, needing to breathe before he melted into a vaguely Adrien-colored puddle.  Another jolt of ecstasy shot through him when Marinette continued to chase his lips.  She pouted when he laughed.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who might die without kisses,” he teased.

“If you’re trying to embarrass me, you’re going to have to work a lot harder than that,” she said even though her face was still bright red.  “You already heard me say totoshoot.  And you saw me sniff your pillow!”

“That’s just today.  Don’t forget the time you kissed me while I was pretending to be a statue.”

Her eyes widened, and she pushed him back.  His chest felt cold where she was no longer pressed to him.

“Too soon?”  He asked, though he couldn’t help grinning.  He should’ve known she was in love with him.  Why else would she have acted like that?

“It will always be too soon.  I vote we pretend that never happened.”

“But Marinette, don’t you want to be molded together in the plaster of destiny?”  He batted his eyes innocently.

She dropped her head into her hands, hiding the adorable blush there.  “That’s it.  I’m leaving.”

“But I thought we were going to be entwined for eternity!”

She looked torn between laughing and punching him.  He would’ve welcomed either.

“It sounds like someone doesn’t want any more kisses.”  She crossed her arms instead, turning her back to him.

“Nooooo, Marinette!  Anything but that!”  He draped himself over her back, arms dangling over her shoulders.  “I hope I didn’t upset you.  I just think hindsight made it hilarious, but I’ll shut up if you really want me to.”

“I don’t think you could shut up if you tried.  But that’s okay.  I love you just the way you are.”  She pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Warmth spread through him from head to toe.  “Really?”

“Yes, really.  You think I’d make out with just any shirtless guy?”

“Hmmm.  I guess you have a point.”  His hands played with the string of her yo-yo around her waist.  “But I wouldn’t complain if you wanted to prove it again.”

She took hold of one of his hands, spinning him so they were face to face again.  “Go put on some clothes so I don’t have to worry about knocking your towel off, and then we’ll see.”

He blushed again.  He’d better get used to that though.  If he got any more kisses from Marinette, the color of her suit would rub off on him permanently.

“I can live with that.”

He dug out his pajamas—including his Ladybug underwear—and darted into the bathroom.  

“Are you happy now?”  Plagg asked.  It took a second for Adrien to spot him, snuggled up in one of Adrien’s black hand towels next to the sink. “I sure heard a lot of gross smooching noises back there.  You think I can use this to plug my ears?”

The kwami held up a q-tip and snapped it in half.

Adrien cast a glance back at the door, where he heard Marinette giggling on the other side.

“Could you keep your voice down?”  He hissed.  “And no, don’t do that.  You’ll hurt yourself.”  He took the broken q-tip and tossed it in the trash.

“You better get me some real earplugs if you’re gonna keep this up, then.”

“Done,” Adrien said while pulling his shirt on over his head.  “I’ll do that and get you that special sprucewood cheese if you leave us alone for the next hour.”

“Deal!  Good luck, loverboy!”  Plagg waved.  “I think you’re forgetting something, though.”

“Huh?”  Adrien’s hand was already on the doorknob, but he turned around and saw his pants still lying on the counter.  That would’ve been awkward.  “Thanks, Plagg.  I’m kind of surprised you didn’t let me just embarrass myself though.”

“Nah.  You can do that plenty well on your own.”  The kwami grinned.  “I still think she’s lying about your singing voice.  You could scare off akumas with that.”

Adrien stuck out his tongue.  It didn’t matter what Plagg thought.

On the other side of the door, Marinette was waiting.  And no matter how embarrassing he was, she still loved him.

[tamcitrus]

Iwaizumi x Oikawa x Reader - Confessions.

A time ago I got stuck with this dynamic, I wrote a little story and I finally could write something else for them. Here's part one. I fell so hard for these dumbs. Maybe I'll work in a third part to get some spicy content for them, I don't know.

IwaOi + reader fluff.

Part III - nsfw.

Word count: 1900.

You got to the restaurant first and sat alone at the table for three you reserved. You chose the place because you knew the owners, they were a guy from your university and his father.

“Goodnight to my favorite boys!” Hajime and Tooru arrived on time, for the first time ever, and they were amazed that it was actually a restaurant and not just a ramen shop. “Told you it was a great place! Here are the menus, choose whatever. As I said in the group chat, dinner’s on me.”

You ended up ordering a pork cutlet bowl, the boys ordered shoyu ramen. The owner himself came to serve your plates, just to say hi to you. Iwa and Oikawa looked at you in disbelief.

“Y/n-san! We’ve missed you around here! Let me invite you and your companions a great wine to your dinner,” the old man smiled and shake the boys hands.

“Ichiraku-san, there’s no need to do that! I’ll pay for it, please. It’s good to see you well,” you smiled and shaked his hand before he left and sent someone with the wine. “Don’t look at me like that! He’s the father of a guy I know.”

“Oh I bet he’s waiting for you to date his son~” Tooru practically sang.

“I’m not his type. I’m sure he would prefer to date one of you, he likes every fucking picture I post with you two,” you laughed.

“Ok, let’s make a toast,” Haji said and poured wine to everyone. “For everyone passing their finals and for more movie nights,” he raised his glass, Tooru and you did the same.

The dinner was nice. You talked about little nothings and Tooru was happy for being with you two alone, you were his call down to earth after all. When you were about to leave, Iwaizumi ran to the bathroom first.

“We’ll wait outside Iwa-chan!” Tooru gently took your waist guiding you out. “It’s nice to see you acting normal again,” he smiled. His voice was so low that you almost didn’t hear him.

“I’m always normal,” you answered. You couldn’t look at him. “You’re just used to everyone treating you too nice, because… well you’re you, y’know?”

“I just want you and Iwa to treat me nice,” he said. He wasn’t playing, he meant it. “You both have been acting strange. I thought it was just my imagination but…”

“I’m sorry,” you looked at him this time, you couldn’t lie. “I’m just trying to get some shit together. I didn’t mean to push you away.”

“And what about Iwa-chan?”

“What about him? I can’t tell you what he feels or thinks. You should ask him.”

“You two meet today. Alone.”

“I’ve met you alone a thousand times before too. Are you jealous of him?” you were defensive. “Sorry, that sounded harsh. I didn’t-”

“Maybe I am…” he took a strand of hair out of your face and you blushed. “I don’t know from who really.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying Tooru,” you looked at the street to avoid his gaze. Your heart beated so strong you were afraid he could listen to it.

Silence took the control of the situation. You could see his face, he was thinking how to fix the talk you two just had.

“Do you want to come home to sleep? We can watch a movie and-”

“I don’t want to bother you guys…” you interrupted.

“You don’t,” Hajime was behind you, you never heard him arrive. “Come on, let’s go home, it’s freezing. We can borrow you some clothes to sleep.”

You sighed and they were already walking ahead you. “Wait for me you assholes,” you mumbled. You catched them and took one arm of each one with yours. You were almost hanging between them the whole walk to their apartment.

When you arrived, Hajime gave you a shirt and Tooru his training shorts. Oikawa laughed at you and how the clothes seemed to be swallowing you. You posed for a picture he would definitely use to extort you later.

“Oh my gosh, when you become a famous scientist I’m so gonna publish this,” Oikawa ruffled your hair and walked past you. “I’m taking a shower, pick a good movie please. Don’t let Iwa to put Godzilla again,” he whispered loud enough for him to hear.

Hajime throw him a pillow but Oikawa was already gone. You sat with Haji in the couch and when you heard the shower, you sighed.

“I’m so fucking nervous, I feel stupid. This is your fault, you left us alone!” you whispered. Your companion laughed. “I don’t know how you handle it, you live with him for fucks sake.”

“We’re not around long enough for me to act silly,” he took your hand and squeeze it to give you some kind of confort. “We kissed one or two times. We were drunk so I don’t know if he really remembers but…”

“You WHAT,” you gasped. Iwaizumi laughed again. "You're fucking pining each other you little fu-"

“Shut up, he’ll hear you,” he put a hand on your mouth and you were talking against it.

“My my, you get along pretty well, I’m jealous,” Tooru was standing at the bathroom door, observing. His tone was playful but he wasn’t smiling.

“Just shut up and come here, Trashykawa,” Iwa let you go and made space between you to let Oikawa sit there.

“I’ll make popcorn!” you said and smiled at your friends. You left them alone and made yourself busy in the kitchen you knew as your own. 

"I do remember," Oikawa said. He wasn't whispering but he talked low enough for the tv to cover his words for you and only Iwaizumi to hear.

"It's rude to overhear others talk," the green eyed man said.

"You were talking about me Iwa-chan, so we're even. I feel we're chasing each other in circles. You, me and her, and never getting anywhere," Oikawa smiled. It was a sincere smile, one he didn't let anyone see. It was reserved for Iwa only and now for you too. "I don't really know what to do or how to act and it pisses me off," he looked aside and saw you were still doing things in the kitchen.

"Oh the cool perfect guy doesn't know," Iwaizumi was teasing. "Just don't hurt her."

"And what about you?"

"Guys do you want caramel on… oh shit, I'm sorry to interrupt," you walked to the living room and it was obvious they were talking. "Nevermind, I'll choose for you!"

"Y/N come here," Hajime called for you. You made a reluctant face and took a chair to sit in front of them and the couch. Don't do this right now that's what your face told him but he was tired of pretending.

"Why are you acting weird again? You're dating, don't you? Jeez I knew!" Oikawa was rambling.

"Just stop talking for a second," Hajime took his hand. "I love you, but you already know that. And we both like y/n, she has become a great part of our lives here in the city."

"Please don't talk about me like I'm not here, it's awkward," you felt like about to puke butterflies.

"You stop talking too. Please," he smiled. "I'm saying this once so pay attention Sillykawa," Tooru pouted. "You like her and she likes you. And I care about you two. Please just stop being idiots and be together."

"This isn't what we talked about today, Haji," your face was hot, you imagined your cheeks were the color of the nekoma jacket Kuroo has in his room.

"I'm flattered!" Oikawa was blushing too. He was acting as usual, but his smile was wider than ever. "I'm here worrying about you and you are plotting about who is going to be with me. What if I can't choose?" Tooru's smile faded. He was really worried, he didn't want to hurt anyone or turn things weird between you. "Am I being selfish?"

"You don't have to and you're not," you kneeled between them and put your hands over theirs, they were still holding each other. "We can try something else. We can try to still be the three of us, just a new kind of relationship," you smiled at them and squeezed their hands. "It’s totally valid to love more than a person," you repeated.

"Oh, so you meant something else today," Iwaizumi's face lit in realization. You let their hands go and went to get the popcorn. When you were back, you put a few in your hand and give it to them in their mouths.

"I want to do something but Iwa will probably hit me," Oikawa was his cheerful self again.

You sat between them and looked at him with curiosity. He took your face between his hands and kissed you. His lips crashed against yours firmly but at the same time in a soft way.

"Iwa-chan come here and look at her," Tooru was laughing at your flustered expression, calling Hajime to his end of the couch. "I think if you kiss her now she'll pass away."

"Don't be mean to her please," he sat at Oikawa's lap, so naturally as he breath. He kissed him quickly and Tooru's face matched yours perfectly. "Can I kiss you, y/n?"

"How the fuck are you such a gentleman and Tooru is a dick?" you throw yourself over them, kissing Hajime in the way.

You stood there for a minute. Oikawa was trying to hug you both from the bottom of the human pile, all the tension in the air finally gone. A stupid comedy was playing in the background.

"I love you but you're crushing me," Tooru said after a few minutes and you moved, you were all sitting again. "I'm just so happy for tonight. I can brag about having two beautiful partners now," he cheerfully hummed.

"Great, you ruined the moment," Iwaizumi laughed.

"I'm sorry..." you started and they looked at you confused, "I know it's one in the morning but I really want ice cream."

"Oh yes, me too!" Oikawa second you. "Pretty please, Iwa-chan?"

"Oh I'm going to be the adult in this relationship?"

"You always were, Haji," you giggled and he sighed.

"Get dressed, y/n, we're not going anywhere with you looking like this. I'll get the car outside the garage. If you're not in the downstairs in five minutes, we're not going anywhere," he tried to glare at you but his look was sweet.

"Yes sir!" you both said at unison.

After the ice cream you drove back the apartment. You changed again into the boys clothes and watched the last Godzilla movie to pamper Iwaizumi for driving at one in the morning.

The next day you woke up in one of their king size beds and you were convinced you were in heaven. Oikawa's soft body was curled against you, his face at your chest and you could feel Iwaizumi's strong arms around your waist, his face buried in your hair. You looked at the clock in the nightstand: nine in the morning.

"Go back to sleep, Oikawa won't be up in another hour," Hajime whispered at your ear, his voice so deep it sounded like a growl.

"Only if you don't get up," you said.

"I'm not leaving this bed without any of you," he answered.

"Shh, I'm trying to sleep here," Tooru complained.

[ofwolvesandbutterflies]

strawberry ice cream

Pairing: Kim Doyoung x Reader

Genre: fluff

Tags: university!au, shyboy!doyoung

Warnings: none

day 13 of 30 days with NCT

Synopsis: in which you find there is only one thing in the world sweeter than ice cream.

// and I just cannot figure out why you give me butterflies // (x) 

--

[14:09]

Surely, this was the most perfect day of the year. The clouds - though hardly there - rested overhead in light pastel pink mounds. A perfect azure hue painted early afternoon sky. Every other day in spring had been drab and grey, as if mocking the anxiety stirring about in your mind regarding the date you had today. Yet, the day came, the day was here, and you couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful 24 hours. 

The light flush dusting your cheeks matched the giddy smile on your freshly glossed lips. The pretty plastic spoon between your fingers twitched nervously as you stole frequent glances up at the handsome, dark haired man sitting across from you. Part of you still couldn’t believe he had asked you all of five days ago if you had wanted to go out today. After all, you had been 90 percent sure the stares you’d steal at him during Advanced Composition weren’t at all that noticeable. 

Still, the passing conversations Doyoung had started to feel more intimate than those exchanged between strangers and the way he’d always come to sit by you. His mere presence was calming and though it brought your heart racing faster than anything else could, there was just something about him and his gentle smile, soft words, and shy glances that drew you in. Then he asked if you liked ice cream, to which you nodded eagerly.  

And so you sat across from him in the quiet, dainty little ice cream parlor with a perfectly garnished bowl of strawberry ice cream sitting, waiting��between the two of you. As happy as you were to be on this date, to be spending time with him, a strange timidness had set itself deep in your chest. There was a silence between the two of you. It wasn’t uncomfortable, silences with Doyoung had never been uncomfortable. No, this silence was heavy with words that had yet to be said. What do you say in an instance like this? you wracked your mind for any silly conversation starter. Conversations with your ebony haired classmate had never been this difficult in class. 

Raising your head up from the pristine bowl of ice cream to look at him, you opened your mouth, ready to say something, anything and break the inaudible tension that really shouldn’t have existed between the two of you in the first place. But, Doyoung beat you to it. 

“Y/N..” he looked up to meet your gaze, bottom lip pulled taut between his teeth. 

“Yes, Doyoung?” A shy smile painted itself on your lips and something, some part of you sighed with relief. You had no idea how much longer you could have held the silence. 

Tearing his gaze away from yours, he glanced down at his fingers before looking back up at you. “Why’d you say ‘yes’?”

The question had your brows furrowing in an instant. “What do you mean?” 

“I don’t- I don’t know,” he stuttered, eyes widening at the notion he might have offended you. He looked back down at his lap, cursing under his breath. Why was it so hard to talk to you, now? “I guess I just meant, like… why did you say ‘yes’ to coming on this date with me?” 

Oh. The confused frown melted from your features and back into the same bashful smile Doyoung had fallen for the first time he saw you. His heart rate skyrocketed and the blush he had tried so hard to push down threatened to paint itself right back over his face. Reaching forward with the spoon, he took a bite of ice cream. 

“I’ll answer that as long as you answer me one question.” Something new sparkled in your eyes as you leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand. 

“Alright,” he agreed readily. That was fair. “Why, is it something embarrassing?” 

“No, no, not at all. I just- nevermind.” You waved off the questions playfully and shrugged. “But anyways, to answer your question-” you paused. An airy laugh trickled from your lips, bringing a smile to his. “-I just, I thought it was obvious.”

“What was obvious?” Had this been anyone else, Doyoung would have been embarrassed at all the simple questions that dropped, purely unfiltered, from his befuddled mind to his stumbling lips. But it was you and you had a certain way of jumbling his words before they found their way into actual conversation. You just smiled down into your lap before tilting your head to look at him through your wispy lashes. 

“The fact that I like you, Doyoung.”

If he had the power to stop time, Doyoung would most definitely have stopped it right then and there. Because the way your lips shaped the smallest smile brought upon a new wave of butterflies in his stomach and the tint of pink in your cheeks had his mind reeling. You were too perfect for this world. But alas, he could not pause time just to stare at you a little while longer, so you continued. 

“You’re so kind, Doyoung. You’re polite. You always make time for conversation with me, even if it’s about the strangest things like your pet rabbit’s dislike of carrots or your roommate’s inability to wash his dishes and put away his laundry.” He ran a slow hand through his hair in awe and released a slow chuckle. You even remembered the silliest things he’d bring up in conversation just to make you laugh. And still you went on. 

“You’re handsome and every time you smile, I can’t help but smile, too. I know so many other people who would jump at the chance to spend even just a single class period sitting by you, but I’ve never seen it go to your head. I love the time we spend together. Being around you… it’s comforting, it’s a breath of fresh air after a long day and I-I… I never thought I would say this out loud, but I really like you, Doyoung. Like in the way that I’m glad I got the chance to spend this day and every other day with you.” There was really nothing but genuine, adulterated affection in your voice. The gentle smile that graced your lovely features left him awestruck. 

“I- thank you. I’m… I don’t know what to say.” The weight of what you had just confessed out loud hit you like a brick through a glass window. Panic rose in your system. Had you really just said all that? Goodness, Y/N. He probably thinks you’re crazy. But the second your eyes met his and your mind processed the brightest smile you had ever seen on his face, any worry you had melted into nothing.

“It’s okay,” you murmured, finally mustering the courage to scoop a bite of strawberry ice cream up. A satisfied moan escaped your mouth when the flavor hit your tongue. There couldn’t be anything in the world sweeter than this- oh right, you had a question for him, too. Shoving the spoon back down, you resituated yourself on the chair. “Oh yeah, the question I had for you was… well, I just wanted to ask you why you asked me to spend time with you today.” 

“You mean you never noticed?” It was your turn to study him curiously and it took you a moment to realize the pink tint on his cheeks had yet to disappear. 

You shook your head, ‘no’. “Noticed what?” 

Another awkward chuckle fell from his lips as he cleared his throat and did his best to look you in the eye. “God, I-I thought I was the most obvious thing in the world, staring at you when I thought you weren’t looking during class, offering to walk you to your next class, striking up conversations with you about Mr. Nibbles and how frustrating Taeyong is when he doesn’t put away his clothes… I- I guess I’m rambling at this point, aren’t I?” 

“No,” you smiled, reaching out with one of your hands to cover one of his. A small smile appeared on his lips. “Not at all.”

“Well, I guess I should come outright and say it.” With his free hand, Doyoung enveloped your much smaller hands with his and took a deep breath. When his dark eyes finally met yours, you almost gasped with how much more confidence radiated off him. “I like you, too, Y/N. Being with you gives me like the worst case of butterflies. And… finding the right words to talk to you about things that should be simple like the weather and how beautiful you look every day... it’s so. Damn. Hard. My mind goes blank every time I try to approach you an-and - oh my god, I’m doing it again!” 

A small giggle escaped your lips the moment his serious facade cracked. Back was the same, adorable, bumbling boy caught in a man’s body that you had fallen in love with at the beginning of the semester. He mumbled on, something along the lines of how sorry he was that none of his words were making sense anymore. But, with a newfound stroke of confidence, you slipped one of your hands out of his, cupped his cheek, and closed the gap between your lips, effectively silencing the unending stream of words falling from his mouth. 

It only took a moment for him to respond and when he did… you realized there just might be one thing in the world sweeter than strawberry ice cream. 

[lucastheunlucky]

sense of touch| noah&lucas

Summary: Noah comes over Luke’s. The two talk werewolf abilities, the intensity of their senses, and Luke still thinks Noah & Winn are a bunch of idiots. It’s nice having friends for the werewolf though, and the two veg out and relax. Triggers: drug use (marijuana) @noah-kalani

Standing there 6 pack tucked under his arm Noah wrapped the knuckles of his good hand against Luke’s door, hoping it was loud enough. He never quite knew how hard he should knock, but then again Luke was a werewolf so he probably already knew Noah was there anyway. He hadn’t exactly wanted to do this at first, their whole ‘last time we messaged I was so angry we talked in circles at each other’ a bit cringe worthy. But after, well almost drowning (again) and then reuniting with Winn, Noah knew he needed to at least rekindle something with the other boy. Luke had had a valid point after all, even if Noah was loath to admit it at the time. Plus Luke has said the B word in his last text message, which was intriguing to say the least. Because Noah didn’t really know many bisexuals, least of all ones who played football.

Luke had the uncanny ability to let shit bothering him go when he needed it to not ruin a night. He was pretty private anyway about most stuff, and he’s not even told anyone about what happened with Salva and Gotch. Which, he knew he’d probably get yelled at about that, but he couldn’t think about it. This one text erased his mind of it. Willing to throw his phone in the loft, and make sure he actually did have something in the fridge to drink (he did). The moment he heard the other, Luke quickly swung the door open and reached out quickly for Noah’s shirt to yank him in. Hoping to scare him a little-- because Luke was ridiculously playful and loved the chance to be silly. “Noah,” Luke stuck his tongue out playfully. “You got here in 16 minutes, speeding much?” 

The last thing Noah expected from this night was to be forcibly yanked into Lukes apartment. But then again, here he was, being forcibly yanked into Luke’s apartment. Things were already off to a great start. “I'm sorry officer,” Noah started holding up his good hand “I must have a lead foot.” Smiling wide he jabbed Luke playfully in the side, the bro-ish comradery code demanding he up ‘minor bodily harm’ ante. It was funny just how much Noah missed this playful roughhousing with the “boys” mentality that was so prevalent in football culture. And ok yes their locker room talk and general passive misogyny left much to be desired, but there were still moments that Noah wouldn’t trade for the world, and he was glad that Luke understood all of these antics. 

“Or, you are just bad at guessing timing,” Lucas locked the door, and latched it out of safety when he received the jab. Everything in him wanted to turn and tackle the other, but he noticed his hand right away-- even the smell on him faintly off to bring his attention to it. The wolves were filled with injury this week. He playfully snapped his teeth, and wrapped his arm heavily over his shoulder to lead him into the small, modest apartment. “What, brings you to see lil o’l me? Did you get in trouble? Did you want us to look each other in the eye and apologize for being losers over text? Cause--” He waved it off, and stepped into the kitchen. “We can have a difference of opinion. All’s good.” 

Letting Luke lead him further into the apartment Noah rolled his eyes playful at the other. Well until Luke pinpointed exactly why Noah was here. Setting down the 6 pack Noah reached for a bottle handing one to the other man  “It’s partly that. But its also partly” Noah paused trying to figure out how to phrase what he was going to say next. He didn’t think this part of the meeting was going to happen till he was at least a beer and half in so the script he’d had in his head was definitely all outta whack “Ok so I’ve had to do a lot of emotional heavy lifting and like refocusing this week so I figured I might as well address this too while I’m at it.” He continued before taking his own beer from the package  “Cuz you know like I know we can have a difference of opinion, but part of growth is being open to listen to other’s points of view.” Fishing out his keyes from his pocket he popped the top off of his own beer before handing them to Luke “So I guess what I am here to say is. I’ve seen Winn, I’m not angry anymore, I am simply here to listen. If you want to talk, we can, if you don’t we can just drink beer and blow shit up on Call of Duty or something. Your call.” Noah shrugged. 

Lucas accepted the beer and leaned on the counter while Noah spoke. He could see the wheels turning in the other, and he made his way over to the living room with a gesture so they were at least comfortable. Plopping on the couch, his feet bare, Luke dressed in a cotton shirt and workout sweats looked quite at home and comfortable, his arm not bandaged, but the wound had been aggravated open from the fight. “Ah, we don’t have to linger on it if you feel okay about everything. Growing up with three other siblings and being in the middle has given me a lot of training in forgiving people, and also in saying sorry, so I am-- sorry,” Luke said easily. “I do, really have to ask you.” He lifted his brow a little, smile blinding in his cheeky tone. “You and Winn-- still a bro relationship? Or… you know, finally upgrading?”

Noah shrugged slightly as he made himself comfortable on the couch. “I mean the fact you even feel the need to say sorry is something I think we should probably talk about” he started taking another swig of his beer. “But I will follow your lead” Because if Lucas truly didn’t want to talk about it then he wasn’t going to force the other boy. But of course, that was before Lucas decided to play dirty. If Noah had been in the middle of drinking he’d have spat it all out on the couch, the older man insinuating that he an Winn were together  “Oh we’re not like-” Noah quickly corrected, nervous words now flowing freely from his mouth “I-I mean I’m like all for the cause and everything but I’m just not-” Oh no Noah stop. “Ok let me start over. Winn and I-” He stopped trying to figure out how to phrase his relationship with Winn. Friendship didn’t quite cover everything that Noah wanted it to but he was definitely not. Upgrading. Like he was not, totally not, 100 percent not pursuing a relationship with Winn alright. Like he might have thought about letting Winn kiss him that one time, and then cried in his arms, and generally didn’t want to live without him, but that was normal right? “Winn and I are just friends” Noah finished. Yea there was something about that word that didn't sit right, but he didn't have the mental capacity to deal with it now, much less in front of Lucas. 

Oh man. Okay. That was a harmless tease-- in that Luke really enjoyed pushing buttons and being a total butt sometimes, however, Noah’s reaction was actually pretty surprising. His eyes were wide as he rambled off, and Luke was stunned just a little bit in silence (which was really hard to do), his mouth open comically and holding his beer an inch from it. “Oh, bro-- it’s chill,” he actually giggled, and hid it with a deep swig from his beer. “I was just teasing. You know-- you argue then make up-- you know, then have-- nevermind.” He laughed a little, shaking his head with a wide smile and waved his beer between them as if to brush it off. “You are funny, man. Don’t have a panic.” Lord. Shit. Do these two shit heads even get it? Luke wasn’t sure if he wanted to be in the middle of this, but also felt like he totally wanted to be in the middle of this. He quieted, and inhaled to try to clear his shipping thoughts. “So, alright. We need to start over,” his smile was wide, still welcoming and not combative. “You smoke? I’ll roll us one. If you don’t like it, we can put it out.” He reached over towards the side table and pulled over a small marble box into his lap. Bringing his legs up to criss cross them, he got comfortable situating everything on his thighs, opening the box with a waft of marijuana. He hummed, rolling out a joint. “Tell me, in all seriousness-- just so I can understand better. Why is the concept of hiding or running away so bad for you?”

Downing the rest of his beer, Noah tried not to let the blood rise to his cheeks. Because of course Luke was just teasing. Because of course there was nothing going on between him and Winn whatsoever. Shrugging it all off though for a better subject he shook his head when Luke asked if he smoked. “Not religiously. Football had a pretty strict drug testing policy. Which of course was hilarious to me considering my performance enhancer of choice was a werewolf kidney” He grinned. But the grin slowly turned back to somberness as the older boy started asking the real questions.  “It's a bit hard to explain,” Noah started with a sigh. Because again, there was his tragic backstory, rearing its ugly head. Looking over at the casual way that Luke was rolling the joint though Noah figured that maybe now was time to rip off the bandaid “So I lost my mom, my dad, and my little brother in a boating accident when I was 13. And before you begin, you don’t have to apologize. Life happened, I’ve dealt with it, still actively healing the whole shebang” Noah waved off the other man, not really wanting a repeat of the emotional evening he had with Simon. “But i guess to actually answer your question, running bothers me because yea it seems like an easy choice to make at the moment, but it hurts so many people that care about you. Like my family didn't even leave me on purpose, but I’ve had to deal with so many ramifications of that. So I guess-” Noah paused cocking his head a little staring down into his beer bottle “Like if the shoe was on the other foot, and I had a choice. I still would choose to stay, mostly because I know what it feels like to be left.” 

Lucas didn’t need to be told to interrupt, but the wave between them spoke volumes to how this subject was approached by others, or the very act was Noah putting up a wall between them without realizing it. He licked the paper, sealing the edges with practiced motions, and set the stuff on the table to pull out a lighter. Luke felt terrible about the tale, and could definitely understand a lot more why such a thing was difficult for Noah. He, however, was on the other side of it. The one who left, the one who always leaves, hides, or keeps away. He never did hear from Miles on how it felt-- Miles seemed so relieved to have him back that it honestly never came up. Luke struck the lighter and lit the end until it caught, drawing the smoke in and passed it to Noah. With a careful release, the burn, pleasant and familiar, “thanks for sharing that man.” Lucas said honestly, “I’m still sorry you suffered, but I do get it. I think most people who leave don’t always want to leave. It was lonely for me, and I felt awful the entire time, but it also felt like the only path in front of me or the only one I could see. It’s hard to explain.” 

Taking the joint from Luke, Noah took a long inhale, letting the smoke sit in his lungs for a few moments before exhaling. He knew what Luke was trying to say but….. “But that's the thing, it's not the only path.” Noah replied, passing the joint back to Luke and setting his beer down on the coffee table.“I mean I don't claim to know anything about your situation. But from what I know about Winn’s and well running in general” Noah shook his head. He wanted to figure out how to put everything he wanted to say delicately but it didn't seem like there really wasn’t a way to do that so he just came out and said it.  “It's not the only path. It's just more often than not the easiest one.” Because to Noah’s eyes it was. Running was easy. Staying was harder. 

Lucas slid down in the couch, and relaxed. It was already late anyway and he was in clothes he could sleep in, so the mood was comfortable. He took the joint back, and huffed a laugh at the word easy. “Exactly, it’s not. In that moment though, it’s like the only one illuminated,” Lucas enjoyed the smoke for a few seconds, pondering the best way to put it. It really was difficult to explain, and when he thought about how he convinced Winston all those years ago he’d not even sure if it would make sense to him now. “Easy-- isn’t the word I’d use for me, at least. I was recovering from three bullet wounds laced with silver. Shit fucked up my organs, my brain-- crawling from a damn grave by myself. I didn’t even exist for a couple months. I don’t remember healing or how I did, or who was always there. All I knew,” he passed the joint, voice deeper as he spoke from it, and swirled his beer giving Noah all the attention. “All I knew was that this person existed and had me murdered and watched it. So my reasoning was-- well I’ll stay dead then, so he can’t hurt me anymore. Then shit, years went by so fast. I regret it though. Now-- I regret being alone.”

“I dunno about that.” Noah shook his head before grabbing a pillow and placing it casually on his lap legs sprawling out a bit between them. It was too early to feel the effects of the joint but he was prepared for his body to loosen nevertheless. “I think, and maybe this is just my brain, but like. I’d rather take a second and assess my options before I just blindly choose one. That way I know it's a decision I won't regret” He shrugged out taking the joint back from the other man. “I do get it though.” Noah started after another drag. Because he did in some way. Healing from his kidney procedure and the aftermath of well everything had put him in a very weird headspace that was hard to get out of. “Like not all of it obviously, but yea. Shits not fair. And I know from experience that this really doesn't help but, sorry you had to go through that.” He nudged Luke gently with his foot hoping the other took the touch as sincere and heartfelt. 

Luke hummed in response. He’s promised himself after the last attack, the glaring one up his arm and scarred over, that he would make sure the people around him had a version of Luke that wasn’t like his past self. When he was in his twenties, it was different. He was selfish, he partied, and got into trouble to hide from the fact what was happening to him was happening at all. Everything Gotch has instilled in him had to be unraveled, unlearned, and it had to start with him listening a little more carefully. “Thanks-- before I met you all, I considered just leaving with him. But that was just because he was in my head, still is mind you-- but it’s getting better.” Lucas’ hand rested on his legs, fingers easily toying with the skin just above Noah’s shoe. “Well, I’m not going anywhere. If Gotch wants me, he has to kill me cause I won’t go without a serious fight.” Lucas wanted that fight more than anything, even if he probably couldn’t handle it mentally yet. “Hrmm, come here-- you are too far away.” Lucas pouted just a little bit, but it was with a smile as he tucked his head back on the couch and drank his beer. “What do you want from family Noah? What does that look like for you?” 

Noah nodded solemnly as he handed the joint back to Luke “Glad you didn’t” Lukes touch on his foot was nice, Noah wouldn’t deny it. “Too far away for what?” Noah asked playfully poking Luke again with his toe before repositioning so he was fully on the couch now, legs folded underneath him. There was still a good few inches between the boys but Noah was closer than before. “Cuz If you lure me in with a hug just to kidney punch me Imma be mad bro.” He didn't think that's really what Luke was going to do but he had to jest any way, especially as Lucas hit him with the family question. “Oh god, thats a loaded question” Noah ran a hand through his hair as he thought “I guess i really just want loyalty, and love, and people who care”  

“I won’t punch you,” he laughed, “I might be bigger, but your arms are no joke.” Lucas knew he was asking a lot of personal shit, but he really did want to know. Family was important for anyone, and he hoped Noah hadn’t forgotten that feeling after losing his. Lucas slid down on the couch, all six foot two of him taking over most of the thing, forcing his legs and feet around Noah’s criss crossed position so he didn’t kick him off. The joint played easily on his lips, taking soft inhales and holding it near his mouth when Noah explained further. “It’s not that loaded,” he let a low swirl of smoke. “I was curious-- I want to see you find that. I’m a sap though, totally sensitive, it’s why--” He stopped himself from saying it, that's why he’s always the one fucked up by people who take advantage of him. The high rolled pleasantly in a way that made his mind linger in thought a little deeper. “Alright, ask me anything. No matter how crazy or invasive, I’ll answer it honestly.” Luke looked at the joint almost gone, handing the very last bit to Noah to finish. 

“Bruh you are a literal werewolf. You could knock me out easily” Noah huffed simply accepting his fate between Lucas’ outstretched legs. In any other situation he’d be panicking, mostly because positions like this were reserved for the boys and the boys only, not people he barely knew. But he was relaxed enough right now that he kinda didn’t care. Which was new. But ultimately nice. “No problem with being sensitive bro,” Noah clucked as Luke stopped mid sentence patting the other’s leg gently.   “You’re a born wolf right?” Noah scrunched his eyebrow slightly trying to remember what he’d been told as he took the last hit off the joint “So is touching like a wolf thing? I know Winn likes to touch me a lot, and then there’s this” He motioned to Lucas’ legs around his middle, blowing out the last bit of smoke out of his lungs “To which I don’t mind or anything, but just thought I’d ask, for like reference you know”

“I am,” he confirmed, sipping his beer and closing his eyes to let his high roll into something relaxing and not paranoid. “Touching is just nice. Men never let themselves experience it so easily-- thinks it's taking shit too far with their friends, but being a wolf trait? Hmmmm, probably. The last guy I was with for a night-- his scent, that smallest touch. God. I still think about him, want him.” He huffed a laugh-- his mind didn’t need to linger in kissing Otto right now even though his fingers lingered on his lips. “Maybe touch is too, all our senses are heightened, hearing, smell, taste, sight, so it might be.” Lucas shrugged, glancing down at his position and grinned cheekily. “Ah, that’s probably more me. I can move if you don’t like it, but since I’m being honest. You seem very snuggable, do people hold you enough? It’s ‘probably’ why Winn hangs all over you. You have that vibe, my dude.”

The last guy. Noah made a mental note of the gender. Not that it mattered to him, he was fine with Lucas being bisexual after all, but still that was interesting. “I agree about the men thing” Noah nodded with a sigh “My best friends and I are pretty touchy, but it took a long time to get to that point. Or at least it did for me. Being the weird new kid in their group and all” Noah shrugged looking down at lucas’ leg. He was tempted to poke it again, but stopped when the conversation turned to about him being touched and snuggled. “No, they don’t” It was out of his mouth before he could stop himself, the mixture of weed and the alcohol lowering his brain to mouth filter. “I mean, I’m just usually the one doing the emotional support snuggling, not the one being snuggled I guess. Goes with the vibe” Noah shrugged out, hoping that wasn’t too much of a noticeable backtrack, though he could already feel the red tinge to his cheeks. He knew he shouldn’t be embarrassed to admit he wanted to be touched and held, but it still was hard. Noah wasn’t exactly the type to ask for what he needed after all. “You’re good though, like with me and touching and things.” He was rambling now, and probably really needed to stop talking, but hey, in for a penny in for a pound. “Like I’ll for sure tell you if you cross a line” 

Lucas frowned a little, surprised people didn’t bother giving Noah something so simple. Luke didn’t overly think about werewolf traits, but those around him now that were either bitten, or in a special case like Noah, they kept reminding him that he might take it all for granted. “I’ll leave this out there for you, but if you ever need to just cuddle up and not even talk about shit, just hit me up, man. Everyone needs to feel comfort, and I really don’t always need an explanation.” He pulled out his phone, and started ordering them cheesesteak subs and fries from a nearby place. “You don’t mind? Good-- its free real estate then,” he chuckled at himself, “I’m glad you told me the stuff about your family.” The sensitive side of Luke always surfaced while he drank and smoked, “I think I get you a little more. I’m sure I’ll piss you off again, but at least you know you totally come fight me and you won’t hurt me too much-- weakling--” He winked in tease. “I ordered us food.” 

“You say that noooow,” Noah drawlled “but in 6 months when me and my dog are always here, wrapped around you like spaghetti noodles, I have a feeling you’re gonna regret it.” He grinned at the other boy. It was reassuring to know that Luke would do that for him, even if part of Noah knew he probably would hesitate before seriously taking him up on it. Or maybe he wouldn’t. He was here after all, already settled in a comfortable and weed induced pretzel. Nodding along gently to the other Noah settled back further into the couch pulling lucas’s legs into a little bit more comfortable position. “Oh yea Catch me a couple days before a full moon asshole and we’ll see who's weakling” Noah started with a playful huff flicking the other man’s leg with a grin. It was safe to say Noah had really missed this kind of close brotherly ‘I’m gonna love you but first I’m going to threaten to hurt you’ vibe he’d had with his football team, as well as his own brother. “Good.” Noah’s ears perked up at the mention of food “I was about to die of absolute starvation. What did you get us?”

“Cheesesteaks, fries, and brownies,” Lucas snorted in amusement, for whatever reason that was funny to him, and tossed his phone on the coffee table rougher than he should have. “I’d take you on--” Luke challenged, but with his dopey grin and relaxed body it really wasn’t threatening. His mind wandered easily while he was high, and he couldn’t help but find himself happy right now. Just staring at Noah, and finding it just so damn nice. He’s almost had everyone over now, a few more people in his life needed to come over. This place-- he refused to let it be touched by Gotch, or anything negative. Even with the ghost attached to his soul, feeding on what was so easily bright and happy in a world that played him bad hands. He rolled up in an impressive crunch and grabbed Noah into a wrestling hold, kicking the pillows everywhere, even the cushions. He laughed loud, comfortable-- happy. 

“Nicceeeeeee” Noah breathed out with a happy grin, easing into his mellow. Yelping slightly as the other boy grabbed him though Noah couldn’t help but feel this surge of belonging, even as the cushions went flying, and laughter filled the room. They hadn’t known each other for long but yet wrestling with Luke on the couch just felt so normal, and so right. While they didn’t always see eye to eye Luke was becoming a brother figure he hadn’t had in a long time, and Noah wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

[hillnerd]

Romione au headcanon where they date and break up ootp and hbp happens same as it is

Sorry this took so long to write!  Ended up being 8k+ words! Hope you like it! :) 

Valentine’s day was the next day, but that meant very little to Ron. He had no romantic plans. He never had in the past, and this Valentine’s day was looking quite bleak. Angelina had scheduled a quidditch practice that day, and he knew he needed it. He was the worst player on the team- perhaps the worst player in all of history. What had he been thinking, trying out in the first place? The looks on everyone’s faces at the end of each scrimmage was enough to make him sick with nerves. He was always an eternal disappointment, he knew- but now the whole school knew.

He was moping by the common room fire, fingers pressed into his eyes when something miraculous happened. Angelina had gotten sick to her stomach in a nearby planter. She was ushered up to the hospital wing and diagnosed with Fwooper Flu, which had been going around the castle. Her getting sick wasn’t miraculous, but the rest of the team coming down with the Flu, and thus canceling practice? That was probably considered miracle worthy of Merlin himself.

Suddenly free, he realized the possibility of Valentine’s Day meaning more than just discount chocolate. It could mean spending the day with Hermione! On Valentine’s day!

Truth be told he’d spent every Valentine’s day with Hermione since he’d been in Hogwarts, but he’d never realized how much he fancied Hermione then. Maybe he had always fancied her on some level. Either way, he was fully smitten now and hadn’t a clue as to how to close the deal.

He’d given her perfume at Christmas, but she didn’t act any differently afterwards. She’d politely thanked him, and he’d not gotten anything special from her. She gave him and Harry the exact same, rather horrible, talking homework planners.

But she HAD kissed him earlier that year. It was only on the cheek, but maybe… Maybe that meant something? He couldn’t remember her ever kissing Harry.

Then again, maybe it was all in his head. Maybe she didn’t fancy him at all. Maybe it would be better to skip Hogsmeade and practice flying, official practice or no. Maybe he should give up on Hermione altogether.

After all, she was beautiful, and smart, and had people like Viktor Krum after her. Compared to all that, Ron had little to offer. He was a skinny freckled ginger, who was poor, horrible at quidditch, and got average grades. Sure he was good at chess and kind of funny- but that was not exactly heartthrob material, was it?

Feeling thoroughly down on himself, Ron was ready to turn in to bed when Hermione stepped through the portrait hole, arms laden with books that looked ready to topple. He quickly got up, took them from her, and guided her to the seat beside his own.

“Thank you,” she said with a smile. Thoughts of his lameness fell behind him as he took in her countenance, and her hair got all huge and staticky as she removed her scarf.

“What’s all this?” he asked, pointing to a stack of books impressively large for a Friday evening.

“Well, we have quite a few papers coming up, and I wanted first dibs on these for our papers. And of course I have Arithmancy and Runes on top of our regular classes. The Runes texts are perfect for my new translating assignment. We get to choose our own epic poems to translate, and I’ve been torn between two poems for ages, so I think I’ll just translate both, then choose whichever one I translated better. I also have a few books you might want to use on our Transfiguration essay that you can borrow when I’m finished.”

“Sure, thanks.” Half the time he didn’t really listen if she got deep into it on studies, but he always loved to watch her animatedly ramble. She had such a breathless flush to her when she went on about something, and he found it charming most of the time. Sometimes he would exasperatedly sigh at her, but it was mostly so he could get her to glare at him. Her glares were practically pouts, and she’d scrunch up her little sharp eyes at him, and somehow it made him smile even wider. She was the cutest indignant person he’d ever met.

“What have you been up to?” she asked, sorting through her books and laying them out.

“Basking in my luck. The team is all sick with flu, except me and Gin- so practice got cancelled!” he said with a smile, putting his long legs up on top of some of Hermione’s books. She made her usual glare and he grinned at her before he gave a rough swallow. “So… I was thinking we could maybe go to Hogsmeade together then, since I’m not busy anymore… I mean, if you don’t have plans or anything.”

“Well, I do have something going on midday—”

“Oh! Ok, well then nevermind—”

“But! I think we could manage to spend some time together before it,” Hermione finished, shooting him a twinkly little smile.

“Oh yeah?” Ron said, perking back up. “Ok then! Erm… Meet you at breakfast around nine and we’ll go together from there?”

“Sounds good.”

It was perfect! Ron had a date with Hermione! Well… No it wasn’t a date. She didn’t even look all that excited. She was looking through her bag for a quill, and not even looking at him. Should he push it and make it clear he wanted it to be a date? It was loads safer to not say anything. She’d probably laugh herself silly if he tried. But…

“Well, then…” Ron said, standing up and taking a centering breath.

“It’s-a-date! See-you-tomorrow!” he blurted out.

He said it all very fast, and before she could say a word, and before he could check to see her face, he bolted up the stairs.

“Oh bleeding hell,” Ron cursed himself halfway to his dorm. What had he been thinking? Well… Perhaps she hadn’t understood him? Or thought he didn’t mean it that way? Merlin’s hairy bumhole! What an idiot he was.

As he got to his dorm he found Harry staring at a pile of clothes on his bed, as if they were a particularly difficult riddle that needed solving. He looked up at Ron with relief.

“What am I supposed to wear?” Harry asked gesturing to the pile.

“Start with pants and work your way outward.”

“Really helpful, that. Thanks,” Harry said shortly, giving Ron a two fingered salute. He looked grim and pale faced.

“Is this for… er… Hogsmeade?” Ron asked, putting his hands in his pockets. He and Harry never much talked about girls. He didn’t particularly want to start now.

“Yeah…” Harry groused, putting a hand through his hair. Ron found a sudden reeling sensation twisting in his stomach, knowing he’d have to make the same sort of decision.

Luckily for them both, Dean, Neville and Seamus came in.

“Boys,” Ron said stoutly, gesturing them over with as much bravado as he could. “Harry’s not a clue what to wear for his date with Cho. Thoughts?”

The other boys looked over and laughed a bit but finally, after they all stared at the mound of Harry’s clothes for a good ten minutes, they decided on his nicest jeans and one of his jumpers that fit alright. Something that was nice, but not too nice.

“Don’t want to look like you’re trying too hard, yeah?” Seamus had said.

Late that night, when everyone else was asleep, Ron did a similar dive through all his clothes. He had nothing that could even remotely fall into the category of ‘too nice.’ Did he have anything at all that was even nice? It took a lot of digging, but he finally found the pair of jeans he’d received from Percy that summer, not a week before the prat had abandoned their family. Percy rarely wore anything as casual as jeans, so they were in a respectable state and fit Ron better than any other trousers he owned. He settled on the one jumper he had that didn’t clash with his hair. It was a little knobby with pills of fabric in the armpits- but not enough he thought Hermione would mind. Yes… Hopefully he would look alright for his first Valentine’s date.

_______________________________________________________

“It’s-a-date! See-you-tomorrow!” Ron blurted out before practically sprinting away from Hermione.

Hermione stared after him, her mouth agape as she processed what he’d said.

Surely he didn’t mean… Did he really say date? He couldn’t have possibly meant it as a real date, could he? But then why would Ron say anything like that? She’d hoped he would take some initiative and show interest in her, but wasn’t sure what to make of this. Did this count as him asking her out? Or were they just going to Hogsmeade together because he had nothing better to do?

She hastily gathered her books, not able to think of anything as trivial as runes when she was on the crux of a possible first date with the boy she had fancied for two years!

Oh! Ginny! She needed Ginny’s help immediately. Hermione had no idea what to do with her hair! Or what to wear! Or even if it was possible this was a date.

With as much speed as she could she Leviosa-ed the books and flung them onto her bed, not caring when half of them fell to the floor with a large slam disturbing Parvati and Lavender from a giggling conversation they were having.

She bound to the fourth year’s dormroom and luckily found Ginny reading a quidditch magazine on her four poster.

“Merlin!” Ginny exclaimed, taking in Hermione, who was panting and ringing her hands. “What’s wrong?”

“I think… I think things might be right, actually!” Hermione let out a high pitched desperate sort of laugh, before she squeezed herself around her middle in agitation. “I’m not sure, of course, because I’m never allowed anything to go smoothly in this area, but yes… Yes I think things are going very well!”

Ginny looked at Hermione with concern before putting a hand to her forehead.

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure you don’t have Fwooper Flu.”

“I don’t have flu!” Hermione laughed. Ginny looked just as nonplussed as ever. “No… I— Oh Ginny, I think I might have been asked on a date!”

“What do you mean you think you might have been asked on a date?” Ginny smiled with incredulity.

“Well I was asked to Hogsmeade, and when we made our arrangements to meet up he said ‘it’s a date!’ So I guess, it’s a date?”

“Sounds like it!”

“But it is a common expression!” Hermione fretted. “Maybe it’s not!”

“Well, who asked you?” Ginny asked, seating them both on her bed.

“It was…” Hermione hesitated, biting her lip. Ginny had inferred Hermione liked Ron, but they’d never explicitly discussed it. It felt odd to confess her excitement if this was all a folly and Ron had meant to ask her only as a friend. It was a line she’d never crossed before, and the vulnerability of it made her tremble.

“Was it Ron?” Ginny asked quietly, a look of awe on her face.

Hermione silently nodded her head, and began to clutch at her arms again.

Ginny gave a broad toothy grin that made her resemble a smug Fred or George.

“The coward finally asked you out!” she crowed.

“We don’t know that he did! Like I said, it’s a common expression.”

“Not for Ron! Here, I can go and ask him—” Ginny moved to get up, but Hermione desperately tugged her back in place.

“No!” Hermione said in a strangled voice. “He can’t know I talked to you about it, because if he didn’t mean it as a date, and thought I thought it was a date and cared enough that I was talking about it and discussing it with his sister, then he’d think I fancied him, and he could be weirded out, and it could cosmically shift our dynamic, and then our whole friendship could be in jeopardy!”

“Hermione,” Ginny said putting a bracing hand to her shoulder. “You worry too much.”

“No! I worry the appropriate amount!”

“I won’t say anything, of course, but we all know he’s fancied you for ages. But even if it’s not a date, it can’t hurt to look nice for it and do a little bit of flirting.”

“Well, I came to you to help me with the looking nice bit, but as for flirting, I don’t believe I’ve ever been any good at it.”

“Just laugh at his jokes, and say nice things to him.”

“I do that already!”

Ginny arched an eyebrow.

“What?” Hermione replied defensively. “I do!”

“You kind of do, I guess, but you also go into scold and lecture mode a lot with him… I mean, he totally deserves it, but when’s the last time you complimented him?”

“I don’t know, the last time he did something worth complimenting obviously!” Hermione huffed, throwing up her arms.

“So, never?” Ginny laughed.

Hermione puffed up in response.

“That’s not fair! He’s done loads of things! He does things all the time! He’s very accomplished!”

“Well tell him that, and don’t wait for him to suddenly ‘accomplish’ something on your date.”

“Well you can’t go doling out compliments when people don’t deserve them.”

“I thought you said he was accomplished?”

Hermione squirmed. She was not sure how one should naturally segue way into complimenting when the act hasn’t been achieved recently.

“How?”

“I dunno, bring up past acts of valor or something? You’re a smart one. Make a cheat sheet for yourself and revise!”

Hermione nodded. That’s what she had to do. She needed to sit down and revise! She had no time, really, but she could manage this. Ginny agreed to help her with her hair and outfit the next morning, which left the rest of the night to think of some good compliments for Ron that she could apply in a natural way. And if it wasn’t a date, at least she was planting seeds that might blossom into affection later.

_______________________________________________________

Ron had never spent more time in front of a mirror. He didn’t have to shave all that often yet, but that morning he spent extra time making sure he didn’t have a stray whisker anywhere on his face or neck, made extra sure there wasn’t a pimple or anything hiding somewhere, and fiddled with where to part his hair a good ten minutes. 

Before he knew it, he only had five minutes to get down the dining hall. He and Harry got the breakfast, both looking as peaky as Ron did before a quidditch match. It didn’t take long for Ron to spot Hermione among the students.

Her hair was looking extra tame and bouncy, like she had spent a lot of time on it. That had to be a good sign! She’d pulled back part of it from her face, and… her lips seemed to have a shine to them they normally didn’t. She looked lovely. Was this for him? Or was this for whatever her midday Valentine’s plans were?

She didn’t notice them at first as she was taking a letter from an unfamiliar brown owl. She had an intense look on her face as she quickly read the letter, seeming to come to herself as Ron and Harry sat with her.

“Oh good! You’re here!” she exclaimed, looking to Harry and ignoring Ron. “Listen, Harry. This is really important…. Do you think you could meet me in the Three Broomsticks around midday?”

“Well… I dunno. Cho might be expecting me to spend the whole day with her. We never said what we were going to do.“

"Well, bring her along if you must, but will you come?”

“Well… all right, but why?”

“I haven’t got time to tell you now. I’ve got to answer this quickly—” she said as she got some triangles of toast and shoved them into her bag, ready to leave the room.

Ron should have known she’d forget about their date. Whatever this plan was with Harry seemed to be more important to her than whatever plan she’d made with Ron. He gave a sigh and began to load up his plate, resigned to spend the morning alone, when Hermione stopped mid stride and turned to Ron.

“Well, come along then!” she said, looking at a befuddled Ron. “Make an egg sandwich with your toast or something! We can get more food after I respond to the letter.”

Ron quickly complied and gave a shrug to Harry, who was eyeing them with nothing short of complete confusion. Ron was highly confused as well, but felt quite cheery as he followed Hermione. It was easy to keep up with her, even when she was practically running, since his legs were so long. Hermione always took quick tiny steps wherever she went and it made her curls bounce in a unique was that Ron found adorable.

She was on one of her missions, so Ron knew it best not to interrupt until she’d finished whatever her little task was. She lead them to the Owlery and penned a letter before choosing a school owl.

“This is urgent,” she told the little owl. It hooted in response before taking off. They watched the owl as it got smaller and disappeared over the horizon.

“So…” Ron said, polishing off his hastily made sandwich. “Mind telling me what all that was about?”

She quickly explained her plan to blackmail Rita Skeeter into doing an interview with Harry for the Quibbler so he could finally get the truth out about Voldemort’s return. They were to meet at the The Three Broomsticks midday. Ron had never felt such relief, but also was in awe of how cagey Hermione was.

“That’s a brilliant plan!” he exclaimed giving her a hug. He hastily let go of her and gave her a moment to fix her hair he’d mussed in his excitement.

They went on to the village talking about Skeeter, Harry and a variety of topics in the same easy manner they always did. Ron didn’t know anyone he could talk to as easily as Hermione. Well, besides Harry of course, but it was different. He and Harry talked all the time, but much of it was laughing and shared looks and being able to just hang out. With Hermione there was this… spark. He didn’t know what it was. It just made the whole thing feel exciting, even if it was just debating over the difference between jam, jelly and preserves.

They went on to stare at the Shrieking Shack, recalling memories of third year.

Ron felt his palms begin to sweat. Was this a date or not? How could he make it romantic? Maybe he could do something chivalrous - like give her his coat if she was too cold? Or he could just use the cold as an excuse to hold her closely, and then look into each other’s eyes and, in a fit of passion, kiss each other.

“Are you cold?” Ron asked.

“No, I’m almost too warm, actually. I think I went overboard with my warming charms before we left the castle.”

Ron deflated. Well there went that idea.

“Er, Ron. You look nice today,” Hermione said stiffly.

“Thanks,” he replied, unsure of what to say. “You do too. Your hair is all shiny.”

“Ginny helped me with it.”

“Well she did a good job.”

“Thank you.”

“Welcome,” Ron replied before awkwardly looking away from her.

Oh, this was a disaster! What was he supposed to do or say? Did she look nice because of Rita Skeeter- perhaps wanting to give the woman nothing bad to print about her looks- or was she looking so lovely for him? ‘Your hair is all shiny.’ That wasn’t even a real compliment. What a tosser he was. He could do better than that, surely.

Despite his flimsy attempts at complimenting her, she was smiling at him. He loved the way her eyes seemed to sparkle a bit when she smiled like that. They reminded him of a rock in Percy’s rock collection he’d seen. It was called Tiger’s eye, and the shiny crystal had a special sort of soft lustre to it just like Hermione’s. Her eyes weren’t just brown, they had all sorts of honeyed hues to them.

“Your eyes look like rocks,” Ron said, before his eyes widened and his ears went red.

“I mean… Shit,” Ron cursed himself.

Hermione began to look angry.

“Did you really just say my eyes look like shi—”

“NO! I— fuck… No! I was trying to say they look like this special stone Percy had in his rock collection. It has all sorts of different colors in them. Tiger’s eye. Like… it was a really pretty rock, I swear! My favorite.”

Hermione stared at him in befuddlement before a smile broke out on her face, and her shoulders began to shake with suppressed laughter.

“Oh don’t laugh!” Ron rolled his head away from her, his face going red. After a moment of listening to her laugh, he found himself fighting a grin. “To be fair, in my mind it was really poetic.”

“I’m sure it was!” Hermione beamed at him.

“See, right there! When you smile like that! Looks just like it,” Ron enthused.

“That’s very sweet, Ron.”

His eyebrows rose as he looked down at her.  So his rock thing had worked! Maybe he could try his other gambit?

“You sure you’re not cold at all?” he asked, giving her a hopeful look.

“Well, maybe my hands are a bit cold.”

Ron quickly grabbed her gloved hands in his own and held them tight. She was so tiny in every way. It amazed him how small even her knuckles were compared to his. He sandwiched her hands between his and began to rub them. He wished she weren’t wearing gloves- but it was still nice to have her so close and do something a bit more intimate than he’d managed before. _______________________________________________________

Hermione felt a thrill run through her as he took her hands in his. Even through her gloves she could feel the warmth of his hands burning through her. Everything about Ron was warmth and fire. His hair, his fiery temper, the way he could flush a deep red, and even how warm bodied he was. She’d be shivering from cold, and Ron would complain it was hot.

She wished she could bury herself in his embrace and feel warmed all over by him. He’d been rather daring, in his own way, trying to compliment her and holding her hands. Surely that wasn’t just friendly. It was notably different than his usual behavior. Perhaps she could test the waters and see.

“You know… I do think that warming charm on my coat is beginning to wear off.”

Ron’s eyebrows shot up high on his face, and his ears were beginning to turn a rosy hue.

“Well,” he said before roughly swallowing. “Well, you can share my coat if you like.”

Hermione quickly nodded, and he opened his coat wide for her to bury herself in. She slowly skimmed her hands along his sides before she wrapped her arms around his waist. Her face cuddled into his chest and she let a breath out as he closed in the side of his coat and wrapped his arms around her.

“I-Is that any better?” he asked, voice a bit husky.

“Much,” Hermione sighed. She knew she couldn’t keep doing this for long. She’d lied when she said her warming charm was wearing off. It was still going strong and she was already feeling a bit sweaty and overheated like this, and Ron would no doubt feel the heat from her coat soon. It was worth the physical discomfort, though, to be wrapped in his embrace like this.

The heat finally pushed her to let go of him. Even though he was so much taller than she, he was stooped so low his face was quite near hers. His face was flushed a deep pink, most likely from having a girl the temperature of a hot water bottle wrapped about him.

“I just remembered! I need some quills,” she lied, as she pulled herself away from him, not wanting to cause him further discomfort. ”Would you mind stopping by Scrivenshaft’s?”

“Wha— Er, yeah that’s fine,” he said, looking a bit glum.

“We can stop by some place more fun for you, if you like. I can put off the quills.”

“Naw, I’d probably just spend my pocket change on something stupid. Let’s get you some quills.”

They made their way down the road and Ron patiently waited as Hermione found herself new set of quills at Scrivenshaft’s. She’d dithered between a lovely set of minty green quills that was a little overpriced, or some more practical ones. Ron ended up waiting outside as she began chatting with a clerk about paper thickness and its effects on paper charms and hexes. She hadn’t made up her mind which set to buy when the lady behind the counter wrapped the nice quills in a colorful paper bag with a bow.

“Oh, no need to wrap that!” Hermione called out as the final flourish was added to the bow. “I hadn’t decided if I was going to indulge myself and buy them or not.”

“But it’s a gift!”

“What?”

The lady pointed to Ron who was casually leaning against the building. “He paid for it while you were chatting.”

They weren’t inexpensive quills, and Hermione felt prodigiously guilty that she’d made up the story of needing them in the first place. She’d only said that to more gracefully detach herself from Ron and not embarrass herself. She knew he didn’t have much money to spend on something like this.

As she opened the door, he gave her one of his lopsided smiles.

“All done?”

“Yes,” she smiled back before biting her lip. “You needn’t have paid for my quills, though.”

“I wanted to.”

“But, they were rather expensive and—”

“I know how much they cost. I bought them,” Ron said, brusquely cutting her off. His ears were red again. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll probably end up borrowing them and forgetting to return them. So it’s as much for you as it is for me.”

“Well…” He had a look on his face that clearly said she was treading into dangerous territory. “Alright then.”

He grinned back at her and she simpered before gripping the package close to her chest.

It felt a merry day until the skies opened and rain began to soak them through. Hermione had a small umbrella on hand that was most definitely not big enough for both of them. The umbrella did little to protect them from the wind whipping the rain into their sides, so they ran all the way to the Three Broomsticks. They both laughed as they entered the pub and found a table near the fire.

“Y’know, I think we got wetter trying to share the umbrella between us than if we’d just hoofed it,” Ron grinned as he unwrapped his wet scarf from around his neck. He hastily added, “not that it wasn’t appreciated.”

“I think you’re right, I’m soaked,” Hermione agreed with a laugh, wringing out her hair a bit. She gave a shudder as she took off her coat and the cold prickled at her, but a blast of warm air quickly drove the cold away. Ron had his wand out aimed directly at her.

“Oh! You musn’t use magic!” she admonished, looking around them to make sure no one had seen. “If you get caught you could get in loads of trouble!”

“I’m near enough to seventeen. If it were in front of muggles alarms would go off or something, but a place like this?”

“The Trace follows you everywhere!”

“Well… kind of,” Ron said with a shrug, ordering them two butterbeers and holding out her chair for her. “They can’t know WHO did magic in a place, only that it was done. Unless they were specifically looking for me, in a place buzzing with magic like this, it goes largely unnoticed. All my brothers were able to skate by with spells in Hogsmeade, so I’m not too fussed.”

“Well you still shouldn’t do it in a pub where anyone could see you,” she warned, looking about the patrons. Ron simply leaned back in his chair, his rangy legs stretched out so far they almost reached the other side of the long table.

“It’ll be fine. One of the few perks from having a hundred older brothers is you know which rules are a bit more flexible than others. You get to sit back, watch their mistakes, and mostly not repeat them.”

“No, you find all sorts of new mistakes they couldn’t even imagine,” she smirked, thinking back to their misadventures.

“Well if your brothers have already succeeded in every way,” said Ron, putting out a dramatic hand, “you might as well fail uniquely and spectacularly.”

He had a conspiratorial smile on his face.

“I’d say the Twins are taking that approach to school,” she added.

“Yeah. Guess they beat me to that too,” he laughed, though his smile didn’t seem to reach his eyes. “Not really any paths left to blaze.”

“You are blazing your own path though, Ron,” Hermione protested. “You’ve done loads.”

“Hmm,” he said with a doubtful look, before thanking Madame Rosmerta for the butterbeers, and taking a long draw from his mug.

Hermione thought back to Ginny’s advice to compliment Ron. This was a perfect set-up.

“Y’know, I think that Ravencl—” he began.

“You are very accomplished!” Hermione interrupted Ron, her face red.

“What?” he incredulously asked, eyebrows raised.

“I said you’re very accomplished.”

“Oh go on,” he laughed with dismissive hand wave before chugging down some more butter beer.

Well that hadn’t landed well at all! What was she supposed to do? Specifics! She should lay it out like one of her essays. She’d studied up on it the night before, but why was her mouth turning to cotton and her brain turning horribly blank on how to say it? She had actually written out a list for herself and had it stowed in her book bag. She never had a problem answering questions in class, but right now she had no ability to speak.

“One moment!” she said, leaning down to fish the list out from her book bag. It took little time to find the parchment. It was rather long and she’d stayed up late to make sure she covered her bases. “Here it is. See! You’ve done loads!”

On autopilot she handed it to Ron like turning in an essay to a teacher. The facts were all there, and she was rather proud to supply her evidence, all neatly outlined in her even script.

The moment he took it from her hand, though, panic crackled through her. She reached towards the parchment to wrench it back, but it was too late— he was already reading it.

“What is this?”

“Oh! Er…” She couldn’t possibly tell him why she had compiled the list. What was she thinking, bringing the list out for him to see? He’d either think she was mad, or never want to look at her again for fear she was a stalker.

“I just … It’s proof of your accomplishments… good attributes…” she mumbled, glancing up to see what his reaction was.

Ron’s usually expressive face was wildly unreadable as his eyes went back and forth over the parchment. His ears began to redden as he continued on, and he shifted in his seat to sit up quite straight, intently studying it.

She needed an excuse for writing it. In her panic it took a moment, but she finally had it.

“When you got your prefect badge, and the twins were making fun saying it was unexpected you’d gotten the badge—  I didn’t say anything to counter them, and I was feeling guilty about it, and wanted to let you know your good attributes and accomplishments. Perhaps it could have been a birthday gift. I shouldn’t have done it now… As you can see there’s a lot there…” she finished in a small voice. She stared at her lap unable to look up at him.

“You numbered them,” he said, bemused.

“Yes.”

“There’s a hundred and twenty three lines?”

“Yes… I know you must think I’m ridiculous for writing it all out but—”

His arms were suddenly around her, and she was pulled into a tight embrace. His cheek was pressed against the side of her forehead, and she could feel an almost imperceptible quake to his arms.

She’d never been hugged like this by him before, and was so stunned it took a moment for her to engage her arms and wrap them around his back. Had his chest always been so broad?

“Thank you,” he roughly whispered in her ear.

She nodded and leaned into his embrace further, closing her eyes.

“Oh, young love is it?” came a voice from behind them, startling them apart.

_______________________________________________________

Rita Skeeter stood at their table, looking bedraggled compared to the last time she’d bothered them. She’d always been overly polished and artificial— once the veneer was gone it wasn’t a pretty sight. Everything about her was chipped and worn looking, from her raggedy nails to her grubby raincoat.

“Harry and Luna should be joining us soon,” Hermione said, an imperious little look on her face. It was like her words willed Luna to appear, for the pale girl with the protuberant eyes worked her way through the crowded table to join them, a drink with a cocktail onion in her hand.

“Hello Ronald, I didn’t expect you here,” she smiled, staring at him with her grey eyes that just didn’t seem to blink as often as other people’s eyes. She was wearing a large woven poncho and her hair hung lankly from the rain. “It’s been perfect weather.”

“Er, I guess… If you like it when it’s bucketing down.”

“I do!” she said wringing out her poncho on the floor and getting some stares from local patrons as she flapped it in the air. Hermione had loudly started pulling out paperwork from her bag for Luna to look at, but Rita ignored everything. Instead she had out her acid green quill and had been scribbling away.

‘Harry Potter’s love life has taken a tragic turn as femme fatale Hermione Granger breaks his heart again, leaving him for his other, supposed, best friend Ronald Weasley. Weasley, who Potter valiantly saved in the heartrending second task of the Triwizard Tournament, was seen seducing Granger on an intimate date at the Three Broomsticks this Valentine’s Day. The two were entwined by the fireplace in an appalling display that left patrons gaping. One has to wonder how Harry could possibly forgive the two, the lanky ginger haired boy who has betrayed his friend, and the brunette who has broken his heart— ’

“Oi!” Ron cried out. “You can’t be writing claptrap like that about us.”

“You mean to say this wasn’t a romantic rendezvous between you and Little Miss Perfect.”

Ron opened and closed his mouth, unsure of how to respond. He looked to Hermione who was watching him just as avidly as Skeeter.

“We’re not the reason you’re here and aren’t your story. Harry is,” Ron managed, feeling quite proud of himself for such a diplomatic response. Hermione’s mouth was a hard line, but she began to nod.

“That’s right,” she added, looking away from Ron.

In short order, Harry arrived sans Cho, and the meeting was underway. Rita made her attempts to pry into his love life, but Hermione brilliantly shut it down and got the interview going in a trice. Ron couldn’t help but admire how she’d taken charge and put the horrid reporter in her place.

They sat nearby as Harry recounted what had happened the night of the Third Task. Every time he said Voldemort Ron felt a shiver go down his spine, but nothing left him quite as shaken as seeing the look on Harry’s face as he grimly talked about Cedric’s death and being tortured. He hated seeing his friend look so torn up and sporting such a far away sad look in his eye. He couldn’t look away though. If Harry had the guts to go through it and talk about it, the least Ron could do was sit and listen. Hermione’s eyes were filled with tears, but she wiped them away as soon as they appeared. Even Luna, who seemed to have a wandering attention span, was raptly watching the interview the whole time.

When it concluded Rita said a few acid comments to Hermione, but Hermione was beaming.

“Harry I’m so proud of you!” Hermione enthused once the reporter had left, giving Harry a hug. He feebly returned it.

“Well done, mate,” Ron added, clapping a pale Harry on the shoulder.

“It was nearly as powerful as that lovely article about the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks,” said Luna. She went off a bit about how she didn’t know when the article would be released, as the Snorkack article might take precedence. Ron vaguely knew Mr Lovegood, and had a feeling even someone as dotty as Luna’s dad would know he had a story worth galleons.

They walked out the door to find the rain had stopped.

“Oh what a terrible change in the weather…  I was hoping to walk in it a bit more. It’s supposed to be a good cure for nargles,” Luna said vaguely before skipping off humming Ron’s least favorite song, ‘Weasley is Our King.’ In all the excitement, he’d forgotten about his ill-fated Quidditch tenure.

Harry gave a sigh, which brought Ron back to the moment.

“Want to head back to the castle?” Ron asked him. He knew it didn’t do much good to ask Harry directly how he was holding up.

“Yeah… You don’t have to though.”

That was Harry’s way of saying he wanted alone time.

“We’ll come with you,” Hermione said earnestly. Ron put a hand to her elbow, and gave her a look. She seemed to understand him and gave a small almost imperceptible nod. “But I do need to… to stop by the quill shop… Perhaps we can meet you in a bit at the castle?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll catch you at dinner,” Harry rattled off looking relieved before walking away towards the castle, hands in his pockets. Dinner wasn’t for another three hours at least. This one had hit Harry hard. Ron would have to get something to distract Harry when he checked on him.

“Let’s get him some sweets from Honeyduke’s,” said Ron, leading them to the shop and giving Hermione a teasing look. “‘Need to stop by the quill shop.’ You’re lucky Harry didn’t notice your sack from Scrivenshaft’s.”

Hermione gave a nervous laugh before biting her lip.

“Are you sure he needs space?”

“Positive.”

“‘Catch you at dinner,’ he says’” Hermione huffed. “Dinner is not for another three hours! It just seems an awfully long time to put off having company after going through something so difficult. You saw the look on his face having to live through it all again… It was clearly traumatizing. If it weren’t so necessary I would feel even worse for asking him to do it.”

“Don’t worry about it. He’s made of stern stuff,” Ron said with more confidence than he felt. “We’ll get him some sweets to tithe him over, then he’ll feel loads better when the article comes out and people are on his side again.”

“You really think this will work?”

“Of course it will! It was a brilliant idea,” Ron nodded. “And you handled Skeeter perfectly.”

Hermione was smiling at him and he felt the tinge of nerves from earlier come back.

“You handled her pretty well yourself,” she said a bit tightly.

“Yeah? Well…” he said putting a hand to the back of his neck. “Didn’t want her to get things sideways like she does…”

“Would it have been sideways to write that we were on a date though?”

His ears were on fire. His throat was so unable to produce sound he might as well have been twisted like a towel getting wrung out. Her eyes were boring into him, studying him as thoroughly as she did any tome.

“I… I said ‘it’s a date’ when I asked you to come to Hogsmeade,” he said testing the waters.

“But that’s a common expression, and I wasn’t sure if you meant it in the colloquial way, or if you meant it as a formal invitation,” she persisted. “Was-was this a date?”

“Well… to be honest…” But could he be? Could he tell her he fancied her? That her kiss on his cheek earlier that year had meant more to him than any other touch he’d felt in his life? That she smelled so good? That she made him actually look forward to studying because it meant more time with her? That she powered his Patronus more consistently than anything else? “To be honest, I’ve been wondering the same thing myself.”

“You’re the one who asked me!” said Hermione, throwing her hands in exasperation.

“Well which did you want it to be?” Ron asked, making a last ditch effort to know how she felt.

Her face turned scarlet. “Just answer the question!”  

How come he had to be the one to lay everything on the line? He’d taken loads of risks already. He’d asked her out, he’d initiated some cuddling and hand-holding, he’d bought her a nice gift, held her chair out and done a drying charm when she was cold. He’d put himself out there fairly boldly… And if he’d misread this whole thing he wasn’t sure what the repercussions could be. Would the awkwardness dash their friendship to ribbons? Would she laugh at him for daring to think she’d like a nobody like him?

“If you are the one inviting a person out,” she began to lecture, “then you know which way you meant it when you said ‘it’s a date!’ That’s the basic structure of invitations, which you seem unable to grasp!”

“I just don’t want to ruin everything!”

“Oh, you’ve ruined plenty already!” Hermione snapped.

“Have it your way, then. I guess I just ruin everything.”

Ron stomped off to use his last few knuts to buy Harry some chocolate, but stopped to look back.

“You coming?” he growled at her.

Hermione petulantly looked away, but seemed to change her mind. Her hair had lost some of its sleekness and was bouncing in its usual wild fashion as she ran at him. He hopefully raised his arms out to catch her, and  let out an ‘oof’ as she forcibly shoved the bag of quills into his stomach.

“Keep them!” she spat before tearing off for the castle, leaving a flabberghasted Ron in her wake.

_______________________________________________________

Hermione stormed her way to the castle and had to restrain herself from hexing a couple out of her way as they slowly ambled with their hands entwined. That was supposed to be her and Ron! Or was it? They were at this ridiculous impasse where he just wouldn’t tell her if all those little moments that meant so much to her were just friendship or something more. He’d been so sweet, and thoughtful, and bought her a lovely gift… And she’d shoved it right back at him…

“Oh well done, Hermione,” she cursed herself once she was finally alone in her dormitory.

She wasn’t even sure why she’d done it. He was just being so infuriatingly evasive, and she’d just snapped. She’d needed an answer. She’d needed to know without risking her pride being hurt. Maybe she’d have a chance to mend things at dinner. Ron wouldn’t abandon Harry after the hard day he’d had recounting the Third Task and that terrible graveyard. He could act as a buffer and they’d get back to an uneasy truce of some sort.

It took a while to calm her nerves and head downstairs to wait for the boys to come down. She sat beside the fire trying to translate her ancient runes poem, but found it impossible to concentrate.  Would Ron even want to look at her? Would he have told Harry about her losing her temper demanding he declare it a date? She worried her lip until She gave a hiss and put her hand to her lip. She winced in pain and tasted a hint of blood.

“Hey. Seen Ron?”

She looked up to see Harry standing there looking peaked. She’d ruined Valentine’s Day for all three of them it seemed.

“Not since Hogsmeade, no,” she said, rolling up her parchment. “Did you want to get some dinner?”

“Oh… I guess…” Harry said with no enthusiasm at all. He looked about the room. She knew that look. He didn’t want her company; he wanted Ron. This was nothing new. Whenever Harry was down he immediately started looking around for Ron to cheer him up. Hermione couldn’t begrudge him doing this; she felt the exact same way. She and Harry got along very well of course, and she quite enjoyed his company, but neither of them were exactly the cheery sort. They were good at working out problems together, but just sitting and living their lives together? Having a good time? That was a bit more strained when they weren’t united with an actual purpose driving their conversation.

“Well let’s get some food. Where there’s food there’s usually Ron, right?” she asked, trying to bolster her spirits as much as Harry’s.

“Yeah… Right,” Harry said with a small smile.

But Ron wasn’t there. They each barely touched their food as they looked about for Ron and he was nowhere to be found as dinner came and passed. They finally gave up and went back to Gryffindor Tower.

“Are you quote sure he didn’t make his way to the dorm while you were there?”

“Er, well I was napping for a bit there, so maybe,” Harry replied.

He still looked exhausted and quickly withdrew to his dormitory, leaving Hermione by herself again. She sat by the fireplace again waiting for him, and it wasn’t until well past curfew when she heard the click of the portrait hole. Ron trudged through the portrait hole, his broom in hand, a miserable look on his face.

She moved from her chair and he gave a startle, nearly dropping his broom.

“Blimey, Hermione! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” he hoarsely let out. He was wet through and his boots were covered in mud.

“Where have you been?”

He looked to his broom then back to her with a quizzical look on his face.

“Fine… Why didn’t you come back for dinner? Harry was still really upset and could have used you here for moral support,” she said, her chin held aloft.

“I wasn’t hungry, and needed to get in some practice,” he said meeting her gaze, before dropping it. “I’ll check in on him in the morning and make sure he’s sorted, so don’t worry about it.”

“You shouldn’t skip meals.”

“Of the three of us, I’m the one who does it the least,” he said, voice tight. An edge filled silence choked them both.

“Well… It’s late, and I need to clean myself up…” Ron said after a beat. “See you at breakfast?”

“Alright…” she replied, cheeks beginning to burn.

His trainers squelched with every step he took as he headed towards his dorm. He had already taken a few of the steps, two at a time as usual, when he stopped his path.

“Hermione…” How was it he could say her name and it made her pulse quicken. “About Hogsmeade…”

She couldn’t bare it. He was going to reveal he cared nothing for her! That in her lonely desperation she’d somehow wildly extrapolated he liked her as more as a friend. She couldn’t hear him say the words. It’d make it too real.

“Don’t worry about it,” she cut him off. “I’ll see you both at breakfast.”

She retreated to her dormitory with such haste she was a bit out of breath by the time she reached her fourposter. She wanted to sob into her pillow, but refused to let herself, for fear of Lavender and Parvati hearing about it and reporting it to everyone around them. No. She’d never tell a soul that her dreams had been dashed; that she’d sabotaged a perfectly lovely time. Even if Ron had thought of her as a potential date, he’d never think of her that way now.

The next morning Ginny made her inquiries of how Hogsmeade was and Hermione forced a smile onto her face.

“We had a good time!” she said with forced lightness. Ginny raised her eyebrows, uncannily reminding her of Ron. She looked like she was about to question Hermione further, but with heavy thump Ron and Harry through themselves onto the bench across from Hermione.

Harry was looking remarkably better than he had the previous day. All he needed was a good dose of Ron’s company.

“Alright?” Ron asked, looking between her and Ginny.

“Of course,” Hermione said, taking a large gulp of orange juice. Ginny was called away by some of her friends, but gave her a look that clearly said ‘we have a lot to discuss’ as she left.

They ate their breakfasts and if there was any tension to be seen between Hermione and Ron, Harry seemed oblivious as he laughed about the state of Skeeter with Ron, and pointedly ignored the Ravenclaw table where Cho Chang was staring at his back.

As they rose to go to their first class, Ron pushed a small box across to Hermione. It had a bit of mud on it, but otherwise it was still the same beautiful pristine box of mint green quills he’d bought her.

“Thought you might want these before class.”

He was keenly looking at her. Sometimes she thought of Ron as quite clueless, but then he’d look at her like this and she’d feel utterly naked and seen. His blue eyes were looking right through her, surely.

“Thank you,” she let out, a bit breathless.

“What’s that?” Harry asked.

“Nothing!” They simultaneously replied, even though it was everything.

[bronzeflower]

Casashouta

Also on ao3

Chapter 3: I Lost My Number, Can I Have Yours?

-----

Shouta became more integrated into the classroom as the week went on. In addition, Hizashi had started to become friends with him, which Hizashi was absolutely ecstatic about. For completely normal reasons, of course, not just because he was starting to develop a little bit of a crush on him.

But nevermind that. What was important was the fact that Hizashi had managed to get to know Shouta well-ish enough to know that the boy seemed a little grumpier than usual when he walked into class one day.

"What's keepin' you down?" Hizashi asked. "Is it anything bad, or is it mostly fine? Do you need any help with anything?"

"I suppose you could help me with my problem," Shouta said, waiting a moment for Hizashi to respond.

"Of course I'll help! What issue are you having?"

"I lost my number," Shouta stated, sounding vaguely upset. "I was wondering if I could have yours."

Now, Hizashi was not an idiot. He was at the top of his class for a reason. However...

"Do you mean you lost your phone or something? Cause' I'll gladly let you borrow mine if that's the case!" Hizashi got his phone out, unlocked it, and navigated to the contacts area. "Just be sure to actually give it back, not that I don't trust you or anything like that, but I still need to keep up conversations with friends over texts, and I still need to be able to call people, so I suppose it would just be greatly appreciated if it was returned. Although, I suppose you wouldn't be able to get into the phone anyway because of the lock on it, so it would be practically useless to steal unless you, like, hacked into the mainframe and figured out the password from there. You know, there's supposed to be a thing out there called keylogging, which is kind of a like a device that tracks the keys you press on a keyboard, but it can also be used to figure out what passwords you use and stuff, so there's definitely a potential to be hacked there. I just wonder if you can do anything similar to keylogging with a touch screen on a phone, although I suppose it could, given that it processes where you touch your screen. People can do a lot of stuff with that kind of data, especially villains! It would be so terrible to run into a villain who could manipulate technology. But if they were really good at tech, then they wouldn't even need a quirk to get into your information. That's shit's scary, yo!"

While Hizashi was rambling about the dangers of technology and the data that is collected from people on a daily basis, Shouta took Hizashi's phone and put himself as a contact in the phone, leaving the contact name simple-Aizawa Shouta, along with a contact photo of him being somewhat grumpy. Though he always looked somewhat grumpy, so it was more his regular expression, going against the time-honored tradition of having stupid contact photos for all your friends.

Shouta had to admit, he spent probably way too long trying to decide if he should add anything cute to the contact name. He was pretty happy with simplicity, but Hizashi seemed like the kind of person who would add silly stuff to people's names or give them all nicknames.

Shouta didn't really have to guess because he currently could see all of Hizashi's contacts and pretty much none of them contained both a first and a last name, instead making puns of names or just using a completely different nickname, along with one or more emojis.

After much deliberation, Shouta decided to replace the O in his first name to the emoji of the cat with heart eyes. It could be seen as both flirting or a friendly gesture, and, hopefully, if he showed off some his cuter side, he could reveal himself to be a more attractive romantic partner.

Shouta then sent a text to himself, again with the cat heart-eyes emoji so that he could have Hizashi's number, which is what he was asking for in the first place.

But Hizashi being oblivious wasn't necessarily a deal-breaker. It just meant that Shouta had to be a little more overt in his flirting techniques. Although, it was a little difficult to be more overt than the pick-up line-I lost my number, can I have yours. He'd have to be Extremely overt if Hizashi really was that oblivious.

Shouta gave Hizashi his phone back.

"Thanks! But, hey, I thought you were going to call someone. You were clearly doing something on my phone so what-" Hizashi's heart kicked into overdrive the moment he saw Shouta's contact information. "You know you could have just asked me for my phone number, right? I would've been happy to give it to-you didn't need to go through the effort of claiming that you lost your phone! And besides, it would be helpful for you to have my contact information anyway so that you can contact me about whatever, whenever! And what's up with the cat in your name? N-Not that it isn't cute! It's, it's really cute, yo! I just didn't really peg you as a guy to like cats, at least not enough for you to put that as an emoji in your contact name."

"Oh? And what sort of guy did you peg me as?" Aizawa questioned, doing his best at a lower, more flirty tone. It seemed to work on Hizashi, given the gulp he made before answering Shouta's question.

"Oh, well-you know!" Hizashi gesticulated a little more stiffly and frantically than he usually did. "I thought you were more, like, a, a tough and strong guy whose kinda mysterious and who has some kind of weird secret kept under wraps like, I don't know, you were actually Mothman or something like that."

"I can attest to the fact that I am not Mothman," Shouta joked along with Hizashi, who laughed awkwardly.

"I mean, yeah, because Mothman doesn't really exist, but still! Something mysterious and cool like that! Cats don't tend to fit in that kind of image of a bad boy, yeah?"

"A bad boy?" Shouta smirked, and Hizashi just got all the more flustered.

"I mean! Not that you ARE a bad boy or anything like that-especially since you worked so hard to get into the heroics course. I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have those kinds of things on your record because you have to have a spotless record in the first place to get into a place like UA, but it's more the kind of vibe you give off, ya dig? Like the...the messy sex hair and the I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude. It just kind of screams Bad Boy, doesn't it?"

"What of the trope about the Bad Boy saving a kitten that's stuck in the rain while his love interest sees and finds out about his soft side?" Shouta pointedly ignored the fact that Hizashi called his hair sex hair.

"Oh, well..." Hizashi floundered about, attempting to fit the right words around his tongue, knowing that, no matter what words he thinks about, they're all going to come tumbling about at once, so Hizashi just tried to stay silent with the thousands of thoughts swimming about his head at once.

“Hm?” Shouta encouraged, both because he wanted to tease Hizashi a bit more and also because he was desperately curious at what the blond would say.

Hizashi’s thoughts congealed into a single, overwhelming thought: If you’re the bad boy, does that make me the love interest.

Hizashi does not say this. Instead, he gets progressively more and more red and he gets more and more embarrassed by the thought until Shouta finally gives him mercy.

“It’s alright, I get what you mean.” Shouta did Not get what Hizashi meant but was reasonably satisfied with the damage he had done to Hizashi’s heart, so he wasn’t too upset at Hizashi being unable to answer his question.

Hizashi breathed a sigh of relief. That’s around when class started, so Hizashi sat at attention and took furious notes in an effort to ignore everything that had happened before school even started.

Meanwhile, before taking his regular school nap, Shouta made Hizashi a contact in his phone, a simple Yamada Hizashi with a heart emoji at the end of it. Of course, the first text he sent Hizashi was a heart emoji, looking forward to seeing how he would react to it.

Unfortunately for Shouta and fortunately for Hizashi, Hizashi was too focused on school during the day that he didn’t actually check his phone until he got home.

When Hizashi got the text, he spent the next half hour silently screaming into his pillow.

Aizawa Shouta really was going to kill him.

[nelvana]

In which they take a night ferry

First [ARC 1]: In which the human is transformed First [ARC 2]: In which a present is prepared Next: In which there is an entry test Previous: In which the journey continues

    Nelvana silently stared down at her team badge before exhaling and shifting her seated position on top of Larry’s shell. She had just finished sending her message out to the rest of Team Galaxy, and now had nothing better to do than just wait for them to arrive to Remains Island.

    “So, how far is it to Remains Island?” Gengar asked.

    Larry glanced back at the two, causing alarm to spike in Nelvana for a moment at the thought that he wasn’t looking at where he was going anyway, but relaxed again realizing how silly that probably was.

    “Oh, don’t worry! It isn’t that far; we should get there much before dawn!” Larry told them, “you’ll have some time to even catch up on sleep if you aren’t someone who likes sleeping on the water!” he added with a laugh before turning back to face where he was going again.

    “Are you fine staying up this late?” Nelvana questioned; she might have been fine with something like that, but she had learned that most jobs in this time didn’t expect one to work for too many hours of a day.

    “Yes!” Larry hummed, “some ‘mons would mind, but I don’t. If I never took people out this late, I wouldn’t get as many chances to see the night sky!”

    Looking up… didn’t show that much compared to other nights. A thick layer of clouds had moved in, blocking out all the individual stars from being seen. Some of the light snuck in between, giving the sky colors ranging from green to purple with the texture of the clouds around to top it off.

    Despite it looking pretty in its own way, Nelvana quickly found herself missing the stars. Seeing the sky like this gave her a somber feeling that she couldn’t quite place.

    “Well, I suppose this isn’t the best example of that,” Larry admitted, “but it’s still nice! That bein’ said though, I’ll probably take a nap once we get there! Dewgong will understand if I’m a bit late getting back; everyone needs their sleep after all.”

    Gengar blinked, “wait, wouldn’t you rather go home to sleep though?”

    Larry chuckled, “I don’t have a home!”

    “You’re homeless?” Gengar questioned, despite knowing full well that he didn’t have a home either.

    “Ah, that’s a strong word. The entire sea is my home!” Larry replied, “I used to travel around on my own for days; creating my own map in my mind. One day I landed at Gull Village, and figured that I could volunteer as a ferry ride for a few days. Turns out, I have a knack for the job and really took a liking to it, so Dewgong officially hired me!” he explained.

    “That was… a longer answer than I expected,” Gengar muttered.

    Again, Larry laughed, “apologies, I tend to ramble quite a bit! Just let me know if you’d prefer some silence!”

    “Got it.” Gengar looked over at Nelvana. “So, I’m assuming you’ll be sleeping on the way there then?”

    Nelvana shook her head, “no, I’ll stay up.”

    “You… will?” Gengar questioned, flicking one of his ears. “You aren’t a ghost-type like me, you’re supposed to sleep at night, you know,” he added.

    “I’ll be fine,” Nelvana sighed, rolling her eyes. “This isn’t the first time I’ve stayed up late like this. At least there’ll be time to rest when we get there.”

    Gengar’s face scrunched up as he thought, finally letting out a sigh and seeming to relent to Nelvana’s plans. He leaned back against one of the spikes on Larry’s shell, staring up at the sky for a few moments before lowering his gaze back over to the cubone.

    “Alright, well in that case, I had been wondering a few things,” he began.

    Nelvana opened up her mouth to speak, but then hesitated, “…about what?”

    “About where you were from; you, Alex, and Ceebee,” Gengar clarified, “you guys are from the dead timeline, what was that like? I know you wouldn’t remember much, but you must know something.”

    Silence met his questions at first. Nelvana furrowed her brows and bit her lip, before finally turning back to look over in Larry’s direction.

    “Is it true that lapras can read minds?” she asked.

    “We can, but only after much practice and training! I’ve only met a few who can do it properly,” Larry answered, “if you’re wondering if I can, I cannot! I have been trying to learn, but I don’t get to meet with someone who is well trained in telepathy enough to get proper advice, ha! It’s fine though; it would be impolite to go reading the minds of any travellers anyway!” he added.

    “Okay, thanks,” Nelvana murmured, nodding.

    She furrowed her brows again, letting out a sigh as she changed her grip on her club. Thinking back, she wondered why she had even bothered asking. If he did have telepathy and was nosy enough to try reading her mind, the psychic shield from Ceebee would block him. But he didn’t even seem like that kind of person anyway.

    Yet, despite knowing this, she couldn’t help but be on edge out here. She doubted anything would actually go wrong, but still felt tense for reasons she was unable to place.

    Deciding to focus back on Gengar’s question, Nelvana did her best to find any memories that might have suddenly resurfaced, but was unsuccessful. In a moment of panic, she wondered if she forgot about what had happened with the apricorn ball, but slowly relaxed again when she was able to replay the event in her mind again.

     “No, I don’t really remember much still,” she slowly began, instinctually shifting her gaze back to Larry again. “But I know it was… really dark, the sun didn’t shine at all. And everything was all greyscale; the land had no colors. Some places you’d go the water in rivers would just be frozen in place, or leaves stuck floating in the air.”

    “That’s… really freaky.” Gengar shuddered. “Sounds like something out of a horror movie.”

    “A what?”

    “You haven’t… you know what, nevermind that. Doesn’t matter.”

    Nelvana decided not to respond to that, and went quiet. Gengar seemed to have run out of questions for her as well; and Larry respected the growing silence, not speaking up as well. It stayed like that for a long time, the only sounds coming from the soft ripple of the waves as they went by.

    After a long time, Gengar stretched out in place, changing his seated position. Realizing that she didn’t have to stay still, Nelvana stretched as well, and then rolled out onto her belly to look out at the water. The ocean was dark in the night, darker with the lack of stars or much moonlight to shine over the waves. Because of this, it wasn’t hard to make out her reflection looking back at her, though distorted by the water moving as Larry swam through it. She could see her eyes from behind her skull headgear staring back at her, and her arms holding the club out in front of her. It wasn’t focused enough for her to make out the scars that should have been visible on her arms and shoulder, and she couldn’t decide if she liked it that way or if it just made her more uncomfortable.

    She decided that despite the soothing allure of the calm water, she didn’t want to keep staring at it, and by extend, herself. Nelvana pulled herself back to sitting up, and then back to leaning on the same shell spike she had been before, curling her tail around it for support. Turning her gaze in the opposite direction as before, she looked up at the sky instead.

    “I wish there were stars out tonight,” Nelvana whispered without thinking as she stared wistfully out to the sky.

    “Yeah… I guess it’d be pretty to see a starry sky in the middle of the ocean,” Gengar agreed, though he definitely was not longing for it as much as Nelvana was.

    “You can see the stars really well back at the base,” Nelvana continued, not daring to tear her eyes from the sky, as if the stars would start coming out any minute. “Keahi knows a lot of good stories about them. He said that he learned them from his family. They’re really good stories… Keahi is a good storyteller.” She paused. “I miss him.”

    “You’ve only been gone for a few days.”

    “I know.”

    “You’ve even been messaging them with the badge thingy.”

    “I know. That doesn’t mean that I can’t miss him, alright?” Nelvana snapped, “I miss being at the base with the others and doing missions like that, okay?”

    “You’re homesick?” Gengar questioned, sitting up.

    “I guess so,” Nelvana mumbled, staring down at her club and rubbing her thumbs on it, tracing little invisible circles in the bone.

    “Why don’t you just get Ceebee to connect you all with telepathy or something?” Gengar suggested nonchalantly. “At least you could talk to them all.”

    “No… it’s late at night, I wouldn’t want to bother them.”

    “Why don’t you just go to sleep? Pass some time.”

    “I don’t feel like sleeping. Not comfortable enough.”

    “Then… tell me one of the constellation stories.”

    “I don’t think I can remember them well enough to recite in detail. I’m not that good at telling stories anyway.”

    “Jeez Nel, then what do you want?” Gengar hissed, narrowing his eyes. “I’m trying to help, but you keep turning down my ideas!”

    Nelvana blinked, looking back over at Gengar, “I don’t know. Sometimes you don’t know what you want, or nothing can be done at the moment anyway. And that’s fine,” she told him, “besides, I never said I wanted anything. But… I guess it’s nice you tried to help anyway,” she murmured.

    Gengar stared at her for a few moments with a look of frustration and perplexion on his face. Slowly though, he began to relax again, sliding back to lean on the shell spike again with a quiet grumble and crossing his arms.

    “Fine, whatever,” he huffed, avoiding Nelvana’s gaze.

    “You could sleep too if you want,” she offered, stretching again with a small yawn.

    “I don’t wanna,” Gengar replied.

    Nelvana couldn’t help but chuckle, “now you should like what you were just complaining about with me.”

    Gengar rolled his eyes, but he didn’t argue with her comment looked back over at the cubone again. Letting out a sigh, he uncrossed his arms and pulled himself out of his slouch.

    “If you’re that bored though, you could tell me a story about what things were like in your time or something,” she suggested, glancing back at Larry again, who seemed lost in his own little world at this point.

    “Honestly, would if I could, but I can’t,” Gengar replied, “I don’t actually remember much of my past either,” he admitted.

    “Really?” Nelvana had expected Gengar to have his entire human life to remember, and if she didn’t know what him lying sounded like then she would have suspected that he was making this up.

    “Yeah, I…” Now Gengar peeked over at Larry, and only once he reached the same conclusion Nelvana had that the lapras wasn’t listening, he continued. “It’s weird; I can remember the, uh, Ninetales incident vividly, but the farther away I, or time, gets from that incident, the foggier the memories are. Especially the ones that happen after that. I don’t think I can remember much more than a few years after that happened, but I can remember more events from a few years before,” he explained, “it isn’t really amnesia like you, but…”

    “But you’re still missing memories,” Nelvana finished quietly, “that’s strange… It’s like all your memories you got to keep surround that event in your life. Do you still remember some of the people in your life though?”

    Gengar nodded, “I remember my mom, and some of my friends, and some of the other pokemon I travelled with. But often I remember a lot of faces and not names, or names and not faces.”

    “Do you wish you remembered more?” Nelvana asked.

    “Yes? No? I don’t really know… I want to remember more, but at the same time I doubt it would be worth it. I’ve accepted that what I remember is fine for me at this point.” He shrugged. “It’s fine. I don’t feel like I’m missing much of my old life.”

    “Oh… that’s good,” Nelvana murmured, her gaze drifting out over the water for a few moments as she thought before turning back and making eye contact with Gengar again. “Maybe it’s because that’s when she cursed you. If Ninetales can intentionally cause amnesia, maybe she made you… specifically remember everything around the time of the curse, or something.”

    Gengar blinked, “you know, I think I considered that idea at one point, but then dismissed it. But I think you might be right.”

    “It could also explain why when you came here you were the same as when the curse happened; maybe your spirit is from that specific time,” Nelvana continued, “wait, how old were you when that happened? Do you remember that?”

    “I think I was…” Gengar leaned his head back, sharply taking in air through his teeth. “…like, thirteen years old or something? Or I guess I still am, that does feel like the right age.”

    Nelvana’s eyes widened, “you’re only thirteen?” she blurted out.

    “Maybe fourteen. Why? How old are you?” Gengar responded.

    “I’m fifteen,” Nelvana answered, “I honestly thought you were older than that though.”

    “Really? How come? How old?” Gengar questioned, leaning forward.

    “I don’t know! At least older than thirteen,” Nelvana told him, “Around in your middle or later teens, maybe. A weird adult with their life in shambles who keeps bothering kids about world domination.”

    Gengar leaned back again, “jeez, thanks.”

    “What? Did you think I was going to say I thought you were older because you’re mature?” Nelvana teased, “in retrospect, I guess thirteen makes more sense. If it makes you feel better about yourself though, you said you had a few memories of a few years after the curse, so you’re sort of older than that.”

    “Glad to hear that,” Gengar groaned, dragging his hand down his face.

    “You’re the one who asked why and how,” Nelvana reminded him.

    “Does everyone else think I’m that old then?” Gengar asked.

    “I don’t know. That isn’t exactly something we talk about in our spare time,” Nelvana answered, “don’t stress too much about it though, okay? Age is going to be weird for you no matter what; you are a ghost-type.”

    “Thanks.” This time, he wasn’t completely sarcastic about that.

    The next time silence began creeping in, it didn’t last long. Not because of another conversation, but because Larry began humming, similarly to back at the docks. It was a tune unfamiliar to Nelvana, and judging by how Gengar scrunched up his face again, he hadn’t heard it before either.

    Slowly though, the tune grew into a song, a song that Larry sang out loud, straight from the heart. It was a fast, joyous song, one that seemed to invite others to dance to it. Despite that, neither Nelvana nor Gengar got up to dance to it; but Nelvana did gently tap her club along with the beat once it felt familiar enough to her to follow along with.

    When Larry finished, he glanced back at the pair with a wide grin on his face. Nelvana politely smiled back, and after a moment, Gengar gave a couple claps.

    “Sometimes you just have to cure silence with a good sea shanty!” Larry said, “would you like to hear another one?” he then offered.

    After receiving confirmation to go ahead, Larry turned back to face where he was going and began singing another song. This was more energetic than the last, but he seemed to respect the quiet aura from the night and didn’t sing too loud, despite the song’s energy.

    It was around what Nelvana believed to be the chorus when she heard Gengar begin clapping along to the beat. When she looked over at him, he simply shrugged and smiled, and then gestured for her to clap along as well. She didn’t feel like setting down her club and risking it rolling into the water, so she decided to keep tapping with it along to the beat as well, louder than how she had been doing it in the other song.

    This time when that song finished, another started right away. Larry was evidently familiar with many songs, and confident to sing them on his own like this. Though, he was a beautiful singer, making that confidence warranted.

    He kept this up, going from one song to the next. Sometimes Nelvana and Gengar would try keeping up a beat, and sometimes they wouldn’t. It was challenging to keep repeating the same action over and over, especially to the rhythm of something they weren’t familiar with.

    Eventually though, Larry seemed to run out of the high-energy songs, and shifted to some calmer, quieter singing instead. It was soothing, and let everyone relax a bit after the excitement of the shanties.

    This was for the best anyway, since it didn’t feel like much longer after all that that they landed at the shores of Remains Island. Not far from the rocky beach, they could just barely see a village not far out of their way; shrouded in the dark blanket of the late night. A few small, flickering lanterns gave away enough light to illuminate the shapes of some buildings, but not much else.

    Now at solid ground again, Nelvana and Gengar climbed off of the shell of the lapras and stepped onto the land.

    “Now then, as I said, I’ll probably stay here for the rest of the night. If you have an idea of when you’d like to head back, I could come back here then and give you a ride back,” Larry told them once they were off.

    “It’s alright, we have our own way back. Thank you though,” Nelvana replied.

    “Hey, so you said we could get some rest here, would you happen to know if there’s an inn open this late…?” Gengar asked.

    “There is no inn, sadly. This just isn’t a busy enough spot for visitors for ‘mons here to make one!” Larry answered, “but, there is a dojo just a little bit off of the village, run by Mienshao. He usually helps out the visitors that do show up!” he added.

    “Okay, thank you,” Gengar responded.

    “Thanks again!” Nelvana hummed.

    Lapras nodded, waving one of his large flippers at them, “safe travels! Until next time!”

    As they walked away, Nelvana couldn’t help but glance back at where Lapras was staying. She wondered how he could feel so relaxed, just resting right in the open like this. While she doubted that any of the villagers here would cause him trouble, there was endless possibilities of someone or something else showing up to attack.

    Then, she realized, he did this for a living, so it was probably used to it. His job was to give rides to strangers, who could decide to attack him if they wanted, being that those rides appeared to go through secluded areas often. He must have been well prepared for the worst-case scenario.

    Following their view of the village, it didn’t take long to start walking through the paths between houses and gardens. Even in the darkness they could tell that this was quite the cozy spot, making it surprising how it sounded like barely anyone ever bothered coming by here unless they lived here.

    However, they didn’t have much time to explore the area right away, and continued on their way in search of the dojo. Thankfully it wasn’t hard to find; once they were in the village, they could see a silhouette of another building atop a hill. One of the paths led to it as well, so even if it turned out not to be the dojo, it seemed worth checking out anyway.

    Getting closer revealed that this was in fact, the dojo. It appeared awfully similar to the Makuhita Dojo, the main difference being that this dojo was larger than the one back at Pokemon Square. This made Nelvana wonder if all dojos had to follow that architecture style.

    When they walked up to the door, they stood there waiting for about a minute, silently wondering if the other would be the one to knock. Nelvana finally took the initiative, using her club instead of her hand to carefully tap on the door. Then they waited again, to see if someone would actually show up. If it came down to it, Nelvana figured that she could probably convince Gengar to camp it out again.

    It didn’t come to that though, and the door slowly creaked open to reveal Mienshao standing on the other side. His movements were calculated, peeking out before fully opening up the door to them.

    Similarly to Ninetales, a few grey hairs grew at the end of his muzzle, silvery and dark on otherwise white fur. His eyes also shone with an air of power; and while there were a few small scars littered around his fur, there were less than one might expect from someone who evidently had a lot of experience. Despite the late hour, he didn’t appear that sleepy, and was surprisingly alert enough to act and speak as if he had been up for awhile already.

    “Greetings,” Mienshao purred, “you are up quite late, hm? I suppose you’re looking for a place to stay then?” he continued.

    “How did you know?” Gengar questioned, eyes widening in surprise.

    Mienshao smiled, “I know every pokemon on this island. I have never seen either of you before,” he answered, “you may explain your visit here later. For now, it would be good to get some rest. You must have come a long way to get here.”

    With that, Mienshao waved a paw for them to enter. Gengar headed in without any hesitance, and after taking in a deep breath, Nelvana followed as well. The door was softly closed behind them.

    They were led down the corridor, gently lit with lanterns that hung off the walls. Mienshao’s claws quietly clicked on the wooden flooring as they walked, filling the otherwise silent halls as the only sound. Passing by some doors, including a couple nice sliding double doors, he brought them over to a stairway and then up to the second floor.

    Going down another hallway, Mienshao opened one of the doors, leading into a small, dark room. He entered into the shadows, grabbing a candle and carefully lighting it before setting it back down on a small table. Now with some light, the room was revealed to have a few mats scattered on the ground. Nelvana noted that they weren’t completely unlike the one Tsuki would use back at home.

    “Here we are,” Mienshao hummed, “you may stay here for the night, and we will speak more tomorrow.”

    “Ah, thank you,” Nelvana replied after a moment, blinking tiredness out of her eyes.

    Mienshao nodded, and then exited the door, softly closing it behind him.

    “Bleh, mats. I was hoping for a nest at least,” Gengar mumbled, but laid himself down on one of the mats anyway and curled up there.

    Nelvana didn’t respond, instead beginning to study the room a bit more. When she didn’t find anything that she hadn’t already spotted when entering, she selected a mat of her own to lay down on. Even still after that, she lay in silence, listening to everything around her until she slowly drifted off.

First [ARC 1]: In which the human is transformed First [ARC 2]: In which a present is prepared Next: In which they is an entry test Previous: In which the journey continues

[ghostyprince]

title: pull me closer (until we collide)

word count: 4.646 rating: T fandom: BuzzF. Uns. relationship: Ryan B./Shane M. summary: Ryan is seemingly haunted by a spirit that just really wants to hold his hand.

author’s note:  Welp, this is certainly longer than I expected it to be, but oh well! I started this a few months ago and finished it literally today. Special thanks for my friendo @morganmorningstar for helping and test reading, love u dude ❤

[READ ON AO3]

Or read more here

It all started, when Ryan woke to something heavy settling on his palm. He and Shane were all alone in this very creepy house, filming another episode for Unsolved. It took Ryan like four hours of tossing and turning to fall asleep. The floor was too lumpy, or just when Ryan would finally drift off, he'd jerk awake to a knock, or quiet shuffling, that sounded like footsteps. After that, he'd be wide awake again, for at least half an hour, heart beating in his throat like crazy.

And there was someone or something touching him. When he jolted awake by the touch, his first thought was that it must've been Shane. Then, he remembered that Shane wasn't even in the room with him. And why would he be holding his hand anyway? (It might have been a little bit of wishful thinking on Ryan's part).

So naturally, his first reaction was to yell and jump out of his sleeping bag, getting tangled up in it in the process, and nearly twisting an ankle. He took several steps back, frantically looking around in the dark for any presence in the room. Everything seemed to be just as it was before he went to sleep, except for the tall figure standing in the doorway.

Ryan's whole body gone cold in a split second, only half-aware of the strangled noise that escaped his throat.

"Ryan?" The figure spoke, in a deep, scratchy voice that sounded a lot like Shane's. Oh.

"Shane?" Ryan hated how weak he sounded, still on high alert and uncertain.

"The one and only, baby. Well, technically there are a lot of- nevermind that, are you okay, little guy? Heard you screaming your head off." Ryan's eyes adjusted to the dark enough to make out Shane's sleepy, but concerned expression as he leaned on the doorframe.

"Yeah, just... Something touched my hand while I was sleeping."

"Was it furry?" Ryan stared at him.

"What do you mean, was it furry?"

"You know, rats." Shane scrunched up his nose, and Ryan burst into a laugh, the unease seeped out of his body like it wasn't even there in the first place. Shane really just had that effect on him every damn time.

"I'm pretty sure I'd know if a rat would nestle itself on my hand, dude."

"Yeah, probably."

"It felt like- it felt like a hand." Ryan still felt the weight of it, and it made him shudder. It was so warm, much warmer than a human which was weird in itself, Ryan would've expected a spirit or whatever that was to be cold.

"I'm sure it was nothing, Ryan. Maybe you were just dreaming."

"I know I was awake, dude! I'm not staying here alone, fuck that. I'm moving to the other room with you." Ryan knew he shouldn't have been so snappy, and irritated, but he's scared and sleep-deprived and hated everything at the moment.

"Sure, if that makes you feel better." Shane shrugged. Ryan hoped it would. He grabbed the sleeping bag and his backpack following Shane to the room next door where he's stationed at. They left the camera recording in the Ryan was in, just in case, if there would be some activity later in the night.

Ryan set up his sleeping bag a few feet away from Shane, who was already climbing back to his own.

"'Night, Ry. Don't let the demons hold your hand." Shane said in a sing-song voice, his back is turned towards Ryan can see his shoulders trembling, in silent laughter. Dick.

"Shut up, Shane." If Ryan was grinning fondly, no one needed to know.

The second time Ryan felt the same hand-like weight settle on his own happened when he slept in the same room as Shane once more, on location. They were a good five feet apart, so even Shane with his long noodle arms shouldn't have been able to reach him. Ryan bolted up into a sitting position, jerking his hand back so fast, he hit himself in the chest. "Shane?"

He must've called out too silently, voice shaking too hard because Shane hadn't moved. If Ryan stayed very still he could barely make out his friend's soft snores. Of course, he was sleeping like a baby while Ryan was about to have a fucking panic attack from ghosts or demons wanting to hold hands with him.

"Well, this worked last time," he muttered, solely talking to himself at this point. He took a big gulp of air and stood up, legs shaking. He wanted to move quickly, but at the same time, he didn't want Shane to wake up and see him pulling his sleeping bag as close to Shane's as he dared. It would've been really fucking embarrassing, and Shane most certainly would've laughed at him.

As soon as he was close enough to Shane, so it calmed him down a little, he darted back under the cover of the sleeping bag, as if it would protect him. He made sure none of his limbs were hanging out and covered himself up to his nose, which thankfully wasn't too difficult considering his height. He could and would submerge himself in the sleeping bag entirely if he wouldn't need to breathe.

Sleep hadn't come for a long time for Ryan. He was uncomfortable and hot, but he was terrified whatever kept touching him would do it again if he'd peel the covers off himself just a little. It made his face burn in shame. He was acting like a child and they probably had to throw away half of the night footage because Ryan was acting like a baby.

Sometimes, he didn't know what Shane actually thought about him. They've been friends for years, best pals, and they've never talked about what would happen if Ryan was honest to God terrified one day. Sure, Shane genuinely tried to calm him down a few times, distracting Ryan with silly jokes, and asking if he was okay in that soft tone Ryan treasured to hear.

If something big were to happen, would he actually believe Ryan, though?

Because he was pretty sure 'something big' was real, and happening, and instead of waking him up just to find comfort in Shane's teasing, it made him afraid of being judged.

He cared a lot about his friend's opinion, even more so than he probably would've cared about some other friend's. Unsolved brought them closer than ever, but the show also widened the gap between them when it came to their belief system. Ryan didn't care most of the time, despite that, they were still a great duo. It was fine.

Until it wasn't, because he started developing, or perhaps resurfacing some feelings for that tall dork.

Feelings, he vaguely remembered carefully tucking away into the far corner of his mind, into the Never To Be Touched Again box.

And there he was, putting his hands all over it, letting it slowly consume him.

He knew he was overthinking, and all of these messy thoughts would seem ridiculous in the morning, but goddammit, Ryan was scared and guilty and sleep-deprived. He deserved to be a little dramatic.

That also didn't mean there was no truth to them.

If Shane noticed their sleeping bag was way closer to each other in the morning, he didn't say anything about it.

Ryan's Flirty Ghost Problem (as Shane lovingly referred to it) hadn't ceased, in fact, the occasions seemed to increase in number. The warm hand settled on his own every single time he tried to get some sleep outside of his home. Not just at locations, but in hotel rooms, at Shane's apartment at some point during one of their late-night editing session that turned into a sleepover. The only place he could actually feel safe sleeping at was his apartment. Whatever demon or ghost attached itself onto Ryan, it couldn't reach him there it seemed like.

He thought about the issue constantly, approaching it like he approached his True Crime research. The first few times it was a pretty terrifying experience, but it became obvious whatever was the cause, it didn't mean any harm. Ryan never felt threatened by the warm weight of that hand, even though his own paranoia still scared him a little when it happened.

He took notes of everything he knew or suspected so far. It wasn't human (Ryan was so sure of that), seemed harmless and only occurred when Shane was in close proximity to him. And that last point was the one that intrigued Ryan the most because Shane was the only constant in the situation.

He couldn't just confront him about it though, what would he even say? 'Hey dude, are you astral projecting your hand on mine when we sleep in the same room?' That makes no sense at all. He wanted to tell it to someone though, and Shane was his best buddy. Everyone else would think he was crazy.

Shane also made the mistake of asking and that's how they ended up at the library. They weren't filming, but Ryan had papers splayed out on the table in front of him. And Shane was sipping his coffee, all soft like he just woke up because it was eight in the damn morning, so he literally did just wake up.

"Ryan, this is so dumb, nothing is haunting you." Shane sighed after listening to Ryan rambling on about how a ghost attached itself onto him or whatever the hell.

"Then how do you explain it?" Ryan crossed his arms in front of his chest, narrowing his eyes at him and scoffing when Shane only shrugged.

"I don't know, Ry. It could be anything, you could just be..." He cut himself off before he could say anything insensitive.

"Hallucinating? Is that what you think? That I'm making all of this up?" He asked, looking so hurt, Shane's chest tightened.

"That's not what I mean at all. But it could have a logical explanation, it doesn't have to be ghosts. You've been really overworking yourself lately, I always tell you to get more sleep and eat enough, you have to take care of yourself, Ryan." Shane reached out to put a hand on his arm, and squeeze gently. He was more serious, seeing how much this incident actually affected Ryan.

"I know what I felt, Shane. And it keeps happening, I can't sleep anywhere outside my house and even then I keep waking up in the middle of the night every single day, because what if today it will happen in my room, too? I just want it to fucking stop." Ryan said quietly, he sounded so genuinely exhausted it nearly broke Shane's heart. He should've taken this more seriously from the beginning. Ryan was also staring at Shane's hand forgotten on his arm, so he pulled it away, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. Even when he wouldn't have minded to keep it there.

"Alright, give me the theories then, little guy! Who or what is your main suspect? I'll get my detective brain ready." Shane grabbed his red pen and flipped open his notebook, ready to connect some goddamn dots. He wrote Ryan's Flirty Ghost Suspects on the top of the page in big blocky letters and showed it to him, delighted by the laugh Ryan gave him when he read it.

"You're such an idiot," Ryan muttered, shaking his head a bit like he couldn't believe it himself. It was an insult, but Shane heard the fondness and gratefulness behind those words.

"Well, I didn't know how to bring it up, because you'll think it's stupid, but the main suspect is uhh- You."

"Me?" Shane's eyebrows nearly rose up to his hairline. "Why would I be holding your hand while you're trying to sleep?"

He laughed, way too nervously for his own liking. If Ryan figured out that Shane has feelings for him he'll have to deal with that right then and there and he wasn't even ready to fully accept those feelings himself, hoping that ignoring them would make them go away one day. It was about two years of constant pining later when he stopped hoping. The little fuckers weren't going anywhere.

"I mean, not you but it only seems to happen when you're around. And when you're also asleep. Probably. I don't know that yet." Ryan shrugged, helplessly. It did sound pretty dumb when he said it out loud, but it was all he could go by.

"Well, we're having a sleepover then. Your place, today. If your schedule is clear." Shane said, without giving it any consideration, and immediately regretting it. Well, he can't back out now, can he?

"What, why?" Ryan looked up from the process of gathering his papers, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"Because we're going to investigate, that's why. We will test your theory. Sleep in the same room, at your place, so we can also check if it's ghost-proof or not."

"Alright, I'm in." Ryan shrugged, because what could go wrong?

A lot can go wrong, apparently.

"Come on, man you can't sleep on the couch, think of your back. It's almost even too small for me." Ryan snorted when Shane came up with the ridiculous idea of crashing on his couch. He spent a night on it, after having a little too much to drink to find his bedroom successfully. It was the most uncomfortable he felt in his life, the following day.

"Where would I sleep anyway? We wanted to test if we really need to be in the same room for it to happen.

"Good point." Shane sat up with a defeated sigh from where he was laying on the couch, legs dangling off the side. "What do you suggest then?"

"I don't know, the bed? We slept in the same bed before, it won't be weird." Ryan sounded like he tried to convince himself too.

"Sure, we can use the bed then." Shane stood and walked towards Ryan's bedroom, just like that. Like the thought of sleeping in the same bed with Ryan didn't make his hands shake with nerves or excitement, maybe a little bit of both, like it made Ryan's. And it probably didn't, Ryan thought, disappointment squeezing at his chest.

Shane's been only in Ryan's bedroom a handful of times, so it felt a little awkward, having him there and not for the reason of Shane pushing him down on the bed, kissing him silly. Ryan stopped that fantasy right there before it had gotten out of hand. Sleeping together would be awkward enough, he didn't need an accidental boner on top it all.

Instead, he focused his attention on the clothes strewn across his unmade bed, and on the chair in front of his desk, painfully aware of how messy his room was. They came here directly after work, hung out and watched a movie they both wanted to see but never had the time for.

"Sorry for the mess, I haven't had the chance to clean up," Ryan said, embarrassed, scrambling to clean the clothes off the bed and throw them into his closet as an impromptu attempt at cleaning. Shane put his hands on his shoulders and looked him directly in the eyes. Ryan stared back, taken aback and vaguely aware of his face burning.

"Calm down, Ryan. It will be alright. I'm here so the ghost can't get you." He had this soft, barely teasing smile on his face and Ryan thought it was insanely unfair how handsome Shane was. How sweet and understanding, even when he thought all of what they were doing was horseshit. How could anyone possibly expect him to not fall in love?

"And anyway, if it turns out that I'm the ghost, you just have to learn to live with it." He added with a shit eating grin and let go of him.

"I'm not an expert but I'm pretty sure if you'd be a ghost you'd know about it, big guy." Ryan huffed, finding himself smiling fondly at his friend once again.

"You don't know that. Maybe I don't know I'm dead. It happens in movies all the time"

"I would know if you'd be dead!"

"You could be a figment of my imagination in the afterlife." Shane deadpanned.

"God, just shut up." Ryan snorted, shoulders shaking from laughter as he goes through his closet to find something for Shane to sleep in. Finding a shirt that fit was manageable, they were roughly wearing the same size. Pants, however, those are difficult. Anything that Ryan owned was most probably way too short and small for Shane. They never had this problem when Ryan was sleeping over at Shane's, all of his clothes are baggy on him.

"I can just sleep in my underwear if that's cool with you. It doesn't bother me." Shane suggests after a few moments of awkward silence of Ryan rummaging through his closet. He turned towards him, considering it for a moment.

"It doesn't bother me either," Ryan said, you know, like a liar.

"Shane, your elbow is digging in my back."

"Sorry." There was some shifting from behind Ryan, and then a knee was pressed against the back of his thigh.

"Still bad."

"Your bed is too small, I have to pull up my legs."

"My bed is normal sized, your fucking bone stilts are too long!"

"Stop insulting them, you'll hurt their feelings."

Ryan made a frustrated noise into his pillow and turned around to face Shane, they were closer than he thought they would be. He wasn't able to make out a lot of him in the dark, but Shane was definitely looking at him, he could see the outline of his messy hair, and one of his bony shoulders, his collarbone, peaking out from under the shirt, begging for Ryan to kiss it. His gaze flicked back at Shane's who was still just looking at him, with this unreadable expression that broke as soon as Ryan spoke, quietly.

"Here. This is better."

"Yeah, it is." Shane murmured, almost dazed.

It took a while for Ryan to fell asleep, Shane has been softly snoring next to him for a while before he could doze off too. Shane's breathing actually calmed him down a lot, it was something to focus his attention on, trying to sync it with his own and shortly, he was out like a light.

Until he woke up in the middle of the night, to the weight of a hand on his own. His eyes snapped open and he almost let out a yelp. A weak whimper was what came out instead, that he's really glad nobody heard when he realized Shane's arm was tucked under him, pulling him close in his sleep. His other hand rested gently on Ryan's own between them.

Ryan would've laughed in relief if he wouldn't have been chest to chest pressed against Shane, him breathing into Ryan's neck. Oh God, how was he supposed to go to back to sleep like that?

Somehow he managed to do so, convincing himself that if Shane's hand was on his the demon/ghost couldn't do shit. It sounded reasonable at three in the morning. As for the awkwardness of them basically cuddling, well, he thought morning-Ryan can deal with that. Sleep-deprived, 3AM-Ryan buried his face into Shane's hair, breathing him in, indulging in all that he can take before the morning comes and they probably won't ever talk about it again, in favor of not fucking up their friendship.

When the morning did come, Ryan hoped, before even opening his eyes, that Shane would stay, that they would talk, and maybe, if things go right they would make out, among other things. Once again, he painfully had to come to the realization that his life wasn't a Hallmark movie because Shane was gone. And no, he hadn't been in the kitchen, making breakfast, or in Ryan's small bathroom, running the shower. Ryan couldn't rush up to him and finally yank his stupid face into a kiss, so they could laugh about it later. Shane just fucking left and the dread that settled in Ryan's stomach stubbornly stayed there throughout the whole day.

What was even worse is that Shane had acted as nothing happened. He cheerily told Ryan at their desks that "You see, no ghosts were assaulting you,  I'm not related to your ghost-problem!"

Ryan had no care for the stupid ghost anymore. How was he supposed to ask Shane to explain himself when he had no right to do so in the first place? He could've asked Why were you gone in the morning? or You could've texted me at least. and most importantly,  I wanted you to stay.

Instead, he laughed, and shut his mouth, afraid of the answers he'd receive. And that was it, they both gone back to staring at their screens. They were back to square one then, always afraid to take the final big step, that leap of faith, because Ryan was kind of a coward.

But then Ryan realized something, as he looked at Shane, really looked at him. His usually elegantly messy hair was even more of a disaster like he kept carding his hands through it the whole morning. His eyes were tired too, for someone who had enough sleep, Ryan should know, he was right there. Shane acted well put together, but Ryan realized right then and there that Shane was kind of a coward too.

When Ryan finally decided to get his head out of his ass and kiss Shane, they were staying overnight at a supposedly haunted cabin just at the edge of the endless forest behind it. It was creepy as hell, to say the least, so Ryan was glad the cabin had only one room, where they put down their sleeping bags, closer to each other than they normally would, because it was pretty chilly out there.

None of them made a big deal out of it when it was time to go to bed they set up the night cameras and a comfortable silence fell upon them, only broken by one of them quietly snorting at something they saw on social media.

Ryan doesn't remember falling asleep, but he was certainly woke up by an arm around his waist, and a hand on top of his. Similarly to that night, he woke up cuddled up to Shane. Ryan didn't even open his eyes, his racing heart somewhat calmed down, because it was just Shane, but holy fuck it was Shane. Ryan didn't know what exactly gave him the courage, it could've been the fact that it was probably around 2 or 3 AM, and everything felt less real. He knew if he didn't kiss Shane then and there, he'd never do it.

So he leaned up, eyes still closed, aiming for Shane's lips. He mostly got it right, but he wasn't prepared for how abnormally hot they felt. That's when Ryan realized that something was very wrong. He opened his eyes. It wasn't Shane looking back at him, but a pitch black person shaped mass instead. It had horns, and bright red eyes, boring right into his soul.

There was silence for a second, then two, then Ryan screamed, scrambling backward, away from that demonic thing, and Shane right behind it, who bolted right up into a sitting position, woken by Ryan screaming fucking murder in the middle of the night.

"What the hell, Ryan? Are you okay?"

Ryan barely heard him over the blood rushing into his ears at the sight of the demon gradually phasing onto Shane, melting into him as if it belonged there. And Shane wasn't affected by it at all, still staring at him, concerned and lips moving, the words never reaching Ryan. He just saw his friend get possessed, with his own two eyes and he felt like he was gonna pass out.

Suddenly Shane was in front of him, hands on Ryan's shoulders, telling him to breathe and it felt like Ryan was slammed right back into his body, he was breathing again, taking big gulps of air.

"I think I kissed a demon." Was the first thing he blurted out when he finally felt stable enough to talk.

"What?" Shane starts laughing, and sure, the sheer panic which he said that with is kind of funny, but this was serious stuff. And oh God, Shane was probably possessed and Ryan didn't know what the hell to do.

"Ry? Calm down, it's okay. I'm here, I'm here." Shane's voice had gone soft, and deep, his thumb rubbed soothing circles into Ryan's shoulder. "Tell me what happened, alright?"

"I woke up to uh, someone hugging me. I thought it was you. And when I opened my eyes, it was this black mass, with red eyes and- and horns. I think it was a demon, it must have been. And I think- are you possessed? I just saw the thing going inside you when you woke up. It's- I'm terrified, dude. Please tell me you're not possessed."

Ryan just noticed how violently he was shaking and gripping Shane's arms desperately.

"I'm not possessed, I promise. I'm alright, see?"

Shane's smile hadn't quite reached his eyes, it was gone as soon as it showed up, leaving his lips in a thin line. In the faint light of the flashlight of Shane's phone that he probably turned on when Ryan was freaking out he could see how pale he was. He almost looked scared, which definitely didn't soothe Ryan's nerves.

"What's going on Shane? You know something that I don't."

"Did you just try to kiss me?" Shane asked, blatantly avoiding the subject. "You said you thought I was the one hugging you and then you kissed it. Does that mean you wanted to kiss me?"

"I- yeah? I do," Ryan stammered, eyes wide and possibly just as scared as he was two minutes ago. "But that's not the point now, stop avoid-"

Shane's lips were on his, effectively shutting him up and Ryan lost all of his willpower, melting into him. Every thought and worry he previously had got thrown out the window because Shane fucking kissed him, he even chased after Ryan's lips after he had to pull back to breathe, and that was a hell of a thought.

"I'll explain everything. Later, not now. I'm not possessed, you're not haunted and I've been a little in love with you for years now." Shane was smiling, he looked just as hopeful as Ryan felt.

"Okay, fine. I'm probably crazy, but I trust you. By the way, I'm a little in love with you too," Ryan huffed, his heart picked up the pace again, because fuck, everything got so real all of a sudden. The way Shane grinned at him was so worth that confession, he would say it over and over again just to see him smile like that for the rest of his life. He sure had it bad, and he couldn't even care, his heart was so full for this idiot of a man in front of him.

"But if you stab me in my sleep I will haunt your ass so hard, Shane, I swear to God!"

"Is that a metaphor for something? Haunting my ass real hard? Sounds kinky." Shane winked, just to annoy him. Ryan bristled, clearly giving Shane the reaction he was looking for because he had that smug grin on his face again and Ryan was amazed by the fact that he's allowed to kiss it off whenever he pleases.

"Shut up, you're such an asshole."

Shane indeed shut up, pressing his lips against Ryan's again. And again, and again until none of them felt the need to saying anything else.

[iiintoxiiicated]

Robstar Week 2018 - Day Four

uwu hit me w that ROBSTAR KUSH

lol i mean,, i GUESS it’s also kinda dickkory because-

no whatever lets just uHhHhH get into the story

DAY FOUR: TOKYO NIGHTS

“It is most delightful that we are able to visit Tokyo once again,” remarked Starfire as she stepped into the airport, a yawn escaping her mouth. She rubbed at her eyes and if it weren’t for her yawn, the Tamaranean wouldn’t appear tired in the least. She beamed with excitement through her drowse, clinging to Robin’s hand while guiding him toward their baggage claim.

“I remember how much I admired the city the last time we were here,” Starfire continued as she floated beside her boyfriend, hands still locked together. Her feet were asleep and numb, leading her to stumbling insanely when they touched the ground. It was in her best interest to continue flying. “It is a relief we are able to partake in the festivities without worrying about the likes of Uehara Daizo and Brushogun.”

Robin nodded in agreement, his free hand gripping the booklet he had taken with him from Jump City. It contained various English to Japanese phrases that would help him if he miraculously got separated from Starfire. Thanks to the booklet, he’d know enough to get around.

He squeezed her hand. “Just remember to minimize the use of your powers,” the dark-haired teen warned. “Even though we stopped Uehara Daizo and his troops, Tokyo doesn’t see entirely fond to us. Remember what I told you?”

Starfire lowered herself to the ground, stumbling a bit with her footing. She cast around a curious gaze to see if anybody in the airport had noticed—which, they hadn’t, being so consumed in the crowd. The Tamaranean hero brushed aside her ruby locks shyly as she looked at Robin. “Yes; you are under the alias of Richard Grayson and I am Koriand’r.”

“Kori Anders,” Robin repeated, emphasizing the space that split it into a first and last name. “And call me Dick Grayson. It’s another way of saying Richard.”

Kori sighed and trudged on through the airport, weaving effortlessly through the swarm of people that hurried to catch their flight. She tucked another strand of hair aside. “I still do not entirely understand why we must celebrate our anniversary under the cover. We have saved the people of Tokyo! Why must they incriminate us?”

“Because, Sta- Kori,” Dick began, just barely correcting himself in time as they passed by another family, “I don’t think all of them know the real story behind Brushogun and Daizo. They just see us as the bad guys who came in from America and started messing with the police. A lot of them don’t believe Uehara should be in prison; they only see us in the wrong. I don’t want to risk anything while we’re here to celebrate.”

As they neared the baggage claim, Dick continued, “Plus, it gives us a bit of privacy. We’re heroes, sure, but we never get to live the lives of regular teens. Using our real names—that people don’t know—will let us get away with a lot more while on vacation. We can enjoy ourselves without worrying about the mobs of people who know us and love us, or know us and loathe us.”

Kori nodded in agreement, her eyes lighting up as she spotted their bags on the conveyor belt. She dragged Dick along with her to retrieve them, hosting her own hot pink one onto the ground as Dick did the same with his black one.

She kicked it onto its side and pulled at the handle, dragging the luggage on its wheels through the busy airport. Kori glanced back for a trace of Rob- Dick, letting out a relieved breath when she noticed him trailing not far behind her. She slowed her pace so they walked side-by-side.

“Do you recall the last time we were here?” Kori asked suddenly, startling Dick into alertness. She smirked to herself while her eyes affixed onto the carpet. “Besides all of the crime fighting. When we shared that moment on the top of a building watching the sunset?”

Dick smiled at the memory, even if the ending of it wasn’t so happy. He nodded, “I believe I recall that. The sunsets here are beautiful. It’s too bad we were too busy hunting Brushogun to admire one of the sunrises.”

“Well, we are here now,” Kori pointed out with a shrug as they laced their hands together again. “And this time we are not hunting anybody down. May we finally have the fun?”

He leaned over to press a kiss against her cheek, humming thoughtfully. “In a little while,” assured Dick with a small grin. “We need to check into our hotel first. We’re going to be here for a whole week, after all.”

“Oh yes!” Kori exclaimed, her feet detaching from the ground as her joy got the best of her. Dick squeezed her hand a little tighter as a reminder, watching as she instantly plopped back her feet back on the floor. The Tamaranean blushed though continued, “When you surprised me with the tickets, I did not believe that we were going for a whole week! You are usually too busy with the work to take a vacation.”

Dick scoffed, “Am not! I am more than capable of taking a vacation.”

Kori lifted a brow. “Dick, it is a chore to get you out of the Tower to go grocery shopping. You have even prohibited me from going because there could’ve been villains running amuck!”

“That was for your safety,” insisted the black-haired teen as he tugged on his luggage. “There were reports of Johnny Rancid out and I didn’t want you going alone! Who knows what could’ve happened if you ran into him?”

Kori rolled her eyes as they walked out of airport, the glass doors sliding shut behind them. She followed her boyfriend as he searched for the car rental where Cyborg had a reservation put in for them. “I am more than capable of looking out for myself,” she mocked with a smirk, taking note of his irritated glance back at her. “But that was unnecessary! We were lacking the milk for the cereal and-”

“Less English and more Japanese,” Dick teased, smiling at her irritated expression. He got on his tiptoes and pressed a kiss against her lips that seemed to put her at ease. “Please. I can’t find the sign to the car rental.”

Kori rolled her eyes again, though not long after a mischievous smirk made its way upon her lips. “My Japanese has become a touch rusty.” She set her jade eyes on a fine young man walking their way, making sure Dick could see who she gestured to. “Perhaps I should-”

Dick snatched her hand and dragged her past. “Nevermind. I’ll find the car rental myself.”

The rest of the day had breezed by; sad news for the two Titans on vacation. They’d spent their time acting as tourists in Tokyo, watching sumo wrestlers and trying exotic foods. They stopped by a couple of stores and picked up a couple of souvenirs for their fellow Titans back in Jump City as a thank-you for their help in organizing the trip.

Kori laid in the king-sized bed their suite had to offer. With the money that Dick had (which he seemed to acquire out of nowhere, shocking the other Titans), they were able to afford the finest hotel in Tokyo, as well as dine at the finest restaurants.

But the Titans were curious as to where this kind of money was whenever they needed it, though Dick insisted he knew a little somebody in Gotham who helped him out. Legally, of course! He’d never accept stolen money.

“Exhausted,” Kori breathed out as she nuzzled against the pillows. “I am utterly exhausted. The festivities we participated in were most enjoyable, if not equally tiring. Though I believe what I am feeling is the plane-lagging-ness.” She let out a yawn.

“You mean jetlag,” Dick corrected gently.

He smiled as he tugged on an old black shirt that he planned to sleep in. He tugged at the covers gently, urging Kori to float up and allow him to pull over his body. The black-haired teen patted at the free spot beside him, inviting the Tamaranean to join him.

Kori glanced at the lamp with a sigh. “You have left the light on for me to get. Again.”

Dick snickered under his breath, watching as Kori floated over to the switch and gave it a gentle flick. He opened up the covers and waited until she buried herself in them before speaking.

“Sorry, babe,” he began with a half-yawn, “but that’s your punishment for making me eat raw octopus earlier at dinner. It was still squirming!”

Kori rolled her eyes as she snuggled into Dick’s side, turning so that she was the little spoon. Even if it was slightly uncomfortable—as Kori was typically the big spoon—she still let out a quiet hum of pleasure. “That was nothing compared to the freshness of meals on Tamaran. It was delicious, either way. The sushi was glorious! As were the wrestlers of sumo and the mini markets we have purchased the souvenirs at.”

The Tamaranean let out a breath, her shoulders sinking as she did so. “Tokyo is indeed glorious, though I believe I find myself to be enjoying it more the second time around. We are doing everything we did not have the time to do on our first trip. It is… relaxing to be here with you. Exploring the streets of Tokyo, as well as the mini markets…” she trailed off with another yawn, her lips twisting into a slight frown. “Though, I do feel a bit of the homesickness.”

Dick tightened his grip around her reassuringly. His eyes were closed though he was listening to her as she rambled on drowsily. “There’s no need to feel homesick, Kori. Enjoy your time here because the next time we go on vacation won’t be for a long while. It was hard enough to convince myself to take a week-long break from watching over Jump.”

“As I have said before, you are utterly consumed with your work.”

“I prefer the word determined.”

Kori clicked her tongue, shaking her head only slightly as her locks tickled at Dick’s arms. “You are silly,” she remarked in a teasing tone, twisting in her position to press a kiss against his cheek. “A… what is the word? Ah, a workaholic, though silly. Have I said that I am beyond excited that we are here in Tokyo? Just you and I?”

Dick nodded with a confirming hum. “Many times, babe.”

“Well, I will say it again.” She blinked open her eyes, turning to stare at Robin, batting her lashes. “I am beyond excited to be accompanying you in Tokyo without the crime fighting. Even if I feel the slightest bit of the homesickness, you are my reminder that wherever I may be, I am home when I am with you.”

Dick leaned forward and pressed their lips together for a brief moment before he withdrew. He pressed his forehead against hers and felt the corners of his lips turn upwards into a smile. Dick squeezed her sides gently though reassuringly, letting out a breath.

“You’re my home, too, Kori.”

[khaelisfics]

Classroom War - Chapter 2

Paring: John Smith x Rose Tyler Chapter: 2/? Rating: T Word count: 1900 Tags: Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, University AU

Read on AO3

Tagging @doctorroseprompts and @timepetalscollective for the second chapter of this University AU!

He grinned proudly as he tore the cardboard of the parcel he had received on his desk, taking out a heavy book he had ordered. He had spent his own money on something he would never use, just for the sake of retaliation - and because he couldn't wait to see her furious face again. The motivation was clear. Get his revenge for that cheap short she had aimed at him the week before. It was simple, efficient, and not evil enough to risk much more than a glare and another fit of anger. Oh, he couldn't wait.

He tucked his book under his arm and walked out of his office, unable to wipe the smug smile from his features. You’ll get your stupid book, he thought as he walked into one of the humanities corridors that sprouted from the mail hall, greeting a few of his own students on the way. He had never been to her office before - not for lack of interest, because he had wanted to visit her for two years, but for lack of any precise reason that would leave her wondering why he had even bothered when they had a phone and emails. Phone and emails had this one disadvantage he couldn't see her, skirt and high heels and tight blouse, but well. He always managed to find a good spot at the canteen to make up for all those times he didn’t visit her - namely, that one table behind the plastic plant that shielded him from her, but from where he had a very good view of her legs under the table.

He knocked on her door, grinned even brighter when she answered, and stepped into her office with the firm intention to thoroughly enjoy her rage. He was momentarily struck by the size of the office, less than half the size of his, and he realized a lighter budget was not the only bad thing about the humanities. Especially since, being the literary person that she was, piles and piles of books were stacked against the walls, precarious towers that would all tumble down if she picked but one of them.

She was wearing that light pink blouse that day, one of his favourite, and he was disappointed he couldn't see what skirt she had paired it with. No. He wasn't there to watch her legs. Revenge, he remembered.

“Doctor Smith, what can I do for you?” she greeted with a smile, taking off the black glasses perched on the bridge of her nose - he would have liked to tell her to leave them on, because he didn’t think he had seen anything sexier in his whole life, but he managed to keep that thought for himself.

“Doctor Tyler,” he nodded, shutting the door behind him with a kick of his heel. “I got you a little something I thought you might like. Remember that book we, er, argued about last week?”

“Yeah, I do, thanks for reminding me,” she sighed, leaning back in her chair, tucking a temple of her glasses in her cleavage. “So?”

“Well, I kinda felt bad, you know, I got this brand new, amazing centrifuge and you’re left with nothing,” he said - he made sure to sound falsely saddened and offered an ironic smile of compassion. “So, I got you the book.”

“Did you?”

He nodded with a grin, the delighted flutters of thrill blooming in his stomach at her surprise and immediate softening. Oh, she really wanted that book. And she was genuinely happy he had bought it. It made it even better. The downfall would be rough.

“Here it is, new edition and all,” he said, letting the book plop down on the desk, putting its title on prominent display. “Cost me fifty quids, but well, I’ve got a centrifuge worth a few thousands so I thought… You know, consolation prize.”

“It’s in French,” she noted with a frown as she flipped through the pages. “All in French.”

“Oh, is it?”

He faked an outraged gasp, and started to ramble about how it hadn't been made clear enough on the website, and how they would hear about it and he would get his money back because it was unacceptable to pay that much for a few pages in a wrong language. Of course, he was jubilating at her momentary perplexity, but on the inside only. Well, probably a bit on the outside too, because she raised an eyebrow and smiled, the kind of amused smile that had him observe her with a hint of suspicion. She wasn’t disillusioned, like he had hoped she’d be. She looked… Pleased. Now, that wasn’t part of the plan. Something must have gone wrong somewhere.

“Thank you very much, Doctor Smith,” she simply shrugged, shoving the book in a drawer. “That you would go to such extents is proof of your repentance.”

“But it's in French,” he pointed out, frustrated that she wouldn't make any more comments about it when he had expected, and even hoped for a tantrum.

“Yes, it is,” she smiled, slipping her glasses back on the tip of her nose - ah, that looked much better. “Good thing I speak French.”

“You… You do?” he asked as he watched his plan crumble down to ashes along with his confidence.

“Of course I do, majored in French literature, did one of my thesis about Molière. Why the disappointment? At least you didn't spend your money on a silly joke. I can actually use it. Gonna need to do a few extra hours to translate what my student needs, but all in all, this is better than nothing. So, thanks.”

“Oh, good, then, very good,” he could only nod, trying hard not to let the his abatement show on his face. “I could send it back and order the good one, though, I really...”

“Don’t sweat it, Doctor Smith,” she grinned as she handed him a small file of papers. “I know what you wanted to do. Sorry it didn't work.”

“No idea what you're talking about, I just wanted to help you.”

“Right. Now, I have work to do, so…”

He nodded with a sigh of defeat, but it was when he started to turn on his feet that he absent-mindedly read the title written in sharp little letters on the top of file. A title he knew all too well.

“Wait, what's this?” he asked as he sifted through the sheets to make sure it was what he thought it was.

“Your article about nuclear fission in subaquatic rift currents was good, but your whole theory doesn’t look very professional,” she started to explain much too matter-of-factly compared to the scornful twitch that pulled on her lips. “You'll find annotations and corrections. It might be science, but if you can’t spell all your gibberish properly, you won’t get published. You can leave it as it is, of course, but I doubt you'll go far with subacquatick rifts.”

“You went through the trouble of reading my article just to taunt me on stupid grammar?” he huffed, both angry and embarrassed to see so much red painted over the pages.

“Spelling, Doctor Smith. The grammar isn’t that good either, though, you'll find a few notes about that too. Page three, you say one thing and the exact opposite two lines further. It matters when you’re talking about potentially deadly stuff, just saying.”

“This is a paper I am still working on, I typed my notes at two in the morning, okay? How did you even get this, you snoop, I only posted it to my personal drive.”

“And on the staff Intranet. It appeared in the news stream, under the glorious title, hm, what was it? Oh yes, FML this fissions my ass. Thanks for the laugh, by the way.”

“No, I didn’t, I can’t have! It wasn’t even on the page yesterday when I logged in, and the latest news posted dates back to three weeks ago.”

“Don’t get your pink panties in a wad, your ass suffers enough as it is, it seems.”

“Just tell me how you found it, for God’s sake!” he huffed, angrily rolling the file in his fist as if he wanted to whack her head with it.

“The Intranet,” she repeated, undaunted by the way he braced himself against the edge of the desk to bend towards her, menacing and eyes shooting thunderbolts. “I knew you’d posted it by accident, so I saved a copy and deleted the post to spare you the embarrassment. But you know what, you’re right. Not my problem. I’ll just post it again and you can deal with it yourself. Now stop fissioning my own ass with your childish enterprises and go back to your toy to grow your mushrooms. Might want to stop by your computer first, though. People don’t need to know about your current anal health.”

He watched, powerless, her fingers type words he couldn’t read and click several times on her mouse. Surely, she wouldn’t… But then, she cocked her head at him with a bright smile and mouthed a done. Obviously, she would. And she had. Yes, he had been looking for trouble and willingly tugged on the Devil’s tail, but that didn’t prevent anger from boiling in his veins. If anyone else found this article, under that title, he wouldn’t bet much on his reputation for the coming weeks. He’d need to invest in earplugs rather than in books to mute the sneers and laughs that would bury him under mountains of shame.

“Go to Hell, Doctor Tyler,” he seethed, shoving the rumpled sheets in his pocket. “I won’t argue with someone who can’t differentiate between mushrooms and microbiological cultures!”

“Fine, just go, then,” she shrugged as she planted her fingers on her keyboard and waited for him to actually go. “Thanks for the book again, that was very thoughtful of you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to prepare for my next course. You’re welcome to attend, it’s about latin etymology, you might learn a thing or two about spelling subaquatic.”

“I know how to spell subaquatic, I wrote this in a rush, alright? I just… Nevermind. Have a nice day, Doctor Tyler. Enjoy your stupid book.”

He stormed out of her office before he could drown in her sickening smugness and rushed back to his office, his highest priority now consisting in deleting any trace of the humiliation eulogy this post was. He sat behind his computer and hurried to log in, opened the page he was looking for and scrolled through it to find the subject of the offence. Sure enough, there it was, posted under his name, but it seemed Doctor Tyler had deemed necessary to add an attachment. Introduction to Latin Etymology. He made a face at his screen and erased the article from the database with a few clicks. She was saucy, that woman. He loved it. Still, he would need to up the ante and hit harder if he wanted a chance at winning.

The email bell chimed again. His face blanched as he read the message she had sent him and his hands went to his fly.

I didn’t say pink panties by accident, BTW. Lovely underwear, Doctor Smith. Dr. T.

He zipped up his fly and fell back in his chair with a groan.

[autumnstwilight]

Burning Fields

Well hello there! Are you a traveler? You have the look of a wanderer about you, and that Boko club on your back... I don’t know what it is you’re searching for, but you’re welcome to stay in Hateno for as long as you need. We don’t see many new faces around here. This village is quite remote. It’s why we’ve been able to survive here for so long, with… everything as it is.

Myself? Well, I wasn’t born in Hateno. Actually I’m from Castle Town, originally. When it existed. So I had quite a close up perspective, really, of it all happen. My family was military, both my father and brother were in the Royal Guard. All dead now, of course... Oh, don’t give me that look. It is all long past. I’ve done my grieving, so there’s no need to pity me. Got it?

It has been one hundred years. I suppose they’d be dead either way by now. I’m surprised I’ve made it this long myself. I think I must be the oldest one in Hateno, except maybe for that Sheikah woman. Those folks sure live a long time. Perhaps you should ask them about the Great Calamity. I was just a girl, after all.

The Calamity? Surely you’ve heard of it. We called it the Age of Burning Fields, that time when all hell broke loose, before the Princess went to the castle to save us all. We were lucky, really. So many villages were wiped off the map entirely. I saw them burn.

… I’m sorry, I got a bit lost for a moment there. Would you like a honey candy? Courser honey is a specialty of the Fort Hateno area. Just boil it up in a pot and you’ve got yourself some fine rock candy. That’ll put a spring in your step. Not that a young man like you probably needs it. These old bones, on the other hand…

Now what were we talking about? Ah yes, the Calamity… Well, none of us expected it to come from the castle, that’s for sure. Safest place in Hyrule, we thought, so fortified and guarded. Made it… hard to get out, once everything started. Not many from the inner districts survived. I was, really, so lucky, when you think about it. A guard took me and ran. We were able to join up with some others who were fleeing… made it all the way here to Hateno in the end.

The princess wasn’t in the castle that day. She was off traveling, doing her pilgrimage to the goddess. We all thought it was terrible luck at the time, but now I wonder. If she had been there, she might have been killed before she could do anything, and then we really would have been lost. Well, that’s what I think. I suppose there’s not much point in it now, all the what-ifs. She saved us…

I remember her, you know, she was a lovely girl. I never spoke to her personally, but I saw her give a speech once. She was about six years older than me, and very pretty. My brother was quite taken with her- he would have been about twelve or thirteen at the time, I suppose. A bit awkward. All arms and legs with a smattering of freckles. Anyway. When the princess was finished speaking, she threw some flowers into the crowd and he got into a bit of a squabble with another boy trying to pick one up. Well, he got his flower, took it home cradling it like it was his precious baby.

Oh, we had quite the fight over that, didn’t we? See, he wanted to press the flower and keep it, but I don’t think he knew how. So he put it in one of my books and it got all smushed and left green marks all over the page. Well, I was furious that he’d ruined my book, and he was furious that I’d picked apart his flower trying to get it out of the book and eventually our father had to get involved. We didn’t speak for the rest of the evening. And then, the next morning, he was gone…

He came back. He did come back, a few days later. But he was different, you know, after that. So much quieter, much more serious. And our father had changed too. I feel like… I hardly saw either of them, in those last few years before. And I wondered if it was what I had done. Of course, I understand now. It wasn’t me. They were preparing for what was to come. But I was just a child then. There was so much I didn’t understand...

Oh, for goodness sake. Here you are, wanting to hear about the Calamity, and here I am, telling you my life story like a silly old fool! You must forgive me… it’s just… I’ve never really talked about any of this… Life here is peaceful, so no one wants to hear any of Grandma Aryll’s terrible tales. But I remember so much… once I get started on it. About the castle, and the town, and my brother...

Yes, I do remember my brother, when I look at your face...

Nevermind. I can tell I’m boring you. You young people, always in such a rush… The world isn’t going anywhere! Well, this is Hateno. Ahead, you’ll find the Ton Pu Inn. My husband- oh yes, I married that guard from the castle- used to run it when he was alive. Now my great-granddaughter works there. The general store is that way, and if you go a little further, you’ll find our famous dye shop…

Oh, no, no, no… I’m fine, really. It’s just a bit of dust from those awful cedar trees. I hope someone cuts them all down. My eyes get so watery every springtime. I… You shouldn’t worry. I’m tough, you see...

Well, aren’t you a good sport, for listening to an old woman ramble for so long? Here, take a candy for the road...

---

This was a challenge to write, since it’s meant to match the style of the in-game dialogue. The vocabulary and sentence structure of someone speaking is very different to the... more verbose way I usually write, and there’s a balance to be struck between sounding natural and still painting a picture. Also I think it’s my first attempt at writing a mute/non-speaking Link (even though I wrote more of a Link-shaped-hole in this fic than an actual character). Another challenge is that the character who is speaking here has some avoidance/dissociation going on with traumatic memories- and they’re projecting that on to Link. So it’s difficult, and ultimately up to interpretation, when they’re reacting to an expression or gesture from Link, or their own emotions (”oh yes you definitely don’t want to hear about this thing, that coincidentally I really don’t want to talk about”).

Timey-wimey business: Aryll is approximately 111 years old, 11 during the Calamity, and 6-7 when the book/flower incident happened. Her husband was in his late teens during the Calamity and they didn’t marry until about ten years after that.

...Long story short, this was meant to make the concept of Link having a sister (from Master Works, along with him getting the Master Sword at 12-13) less sad but i tHINK I MADE IT WORSE HELP

[postcards-to-home]

Finding Happiness & Beating the Odds.

Being away from home is all fun and games until a wave of sudden discomfort and solidarity wash over you and you can’t quite figure out how to sort yourself out. Seeking happiness and banning the “weird feelings” should be easy right? No mess or fuss from home to linger about all wonky. Minds do this thing where  they get triggered. One minute you're laughing under the cherry blossom tree thinking about how beautiful it is to walk home from the grocery store alone in the sunshine and then all of a sudden- Bam. You're tearing up at the hues of pink gathering darkest in the middle wondering how much your nan or in this case my gram would have loved to gather them all together and make a nice vase of them. But then you remember that was four years ago and a million and one things came streaming on after those sad winter days. 

And then I get thinking about how maybe Emily, and Grace and I would have taken the most epic picture at the Manly Northhead point at sunset and I wonder how many pages deep Grace is into studying for the Mcat or how many times Emilys re-done the same lines on photoshop that night. Oh right they are probably asleep right now- well actually I bet one of them is up. Nevermind they didn’t answer my FaceTime call. The next day I get an amazing text from Grace saying God has blessed her in her time of need and all I want to do is drive fast on Western ave hitting green lights listening to Lorde’s new album hoping I reach her place at exactly the time I told her. Its a game we have seeing if I can show up exactly on time since we know she’s never able to do the same.

Or I get thinking” damn I hope this summer Emily stays home for two weeks so I can see her at least twice since I know I’ll be working at shit hole Stewart’s again.Maybe we can go thrifting if we have the money and we can do a cool photoshoot for old times sake,” and my thoughts trail off one by one about all the people I love and the silly small things we do together that make us smile with happiness.

I am happy. It is something I no longer have to tell myself these things. I wake up and know each day is new and fresher than the day before. I do not struggle to let my bare feet hit the floor, or in this case my desk from the top bunk. I do not cough and heave and wonder aloud why my chest hurts so much or my stomach feels so empty because I skipped the dining hall again because it was far too cold and im slightly socially anxious to go with out someone like Jay. Oh how horrible right boo-hoo me and my woes.Drake could probably write a number one hit off my basic ass bitching. in other words being far from home teaches immense lessons. Growing up is easy- the hard part is dealing with all those stupid thoughts we have and can’t control.

It’s so easy to feel triggered yet no one wants to talk about it? WHY? Emotions are so scary but so liberating.The moments we feel so sad are the times when we are so happy we truly notice them.It’s like benchmarking in business. If you didnt have something to compare it to you wouldn't have known it was possible to exist just like our feelings.That’s how my mind has been working. Comparing everything to a business schematic. Like when I wake up at 3 in the morning with my heart racing with ideas on how to fix Stewart’s Facebook marketing plan because it kinda sucks. I think I may have a problem and an answer to theirs. But the complete rush of ideas is a beautiful thing. To be able to feel so much again when i was feeling so little. It is both terrifying and exciting to be bombarded with ideas on how to just better the people and places around me. Yet excitement is a fleeting feeing like fireworks we coo over and immediately forget about 30 seconds later.

It sounds so crazy to ramble about all these stupid little things. Maybe that’s something we as people don’t indulge in enough. Our small thoughts and how we can project them into bigger and more expansive thoughts.Isn’t that how we find our own inner happiness? Looking at the little things that make up the bigger and brighter parts of who we are and who we wish to become. That’s what’s keeping me so entertained and so awakened towards accepting happiness. Allowing myself to breath relief and knowing it will be all okay.

Oddly enough I had a dream before I came all this way here. I’ve told lots of people this story but i’d like to tell it again. I do this thing where I like to sit in the car and talk to myself. Sometimes I pray for people, or sing but on that particular day I wanted to ask my grandma a very specific question. The question doesn’t really matter at this point.But I was driving the subaru around the reservoir just humming along hoping maybe I’d hear the right song and it would be a sign. Instead I just went home and went to sleep.

I had been at home frantic about said native “Schaghticokians” taking over our back field. This is very irrelevant to the story but quite frankly I was stressed and no one gave a single damn about it. As usual. So I just sort of laid down on our goodliving room floor waiting for the destruction of our home to continue as disgustingly bearded men played beer ping and splashed their dip cups all over our hard wood floor. Their were an obnoxious amount of old people loitering in our house. The christmas tree was up despite it being late january and i knew my mom would of tore that down the minute christmas was over. The people sort of Divided as one specific blonde haired individual in her usual red coat appeared. It’s bizarre but eveytime Gram decided to show up I get really frantic like I know she's going to disappear real quick. So I ran up to her but waited until she loosened her scarf and we hugged and she gave me her usual “ I love and miss you always,” spiel.She told me point blank “ I see you talking in the car to yourself asking me things. You need to stop doing that so often and just relax and follow gods plan.” I literally was actually pissed when she started to walk away and yelled at her for not answering my question exactly. She just smiled and said I really needed to relax more about life because its all going to work out.

I’d like to say that that was the last dead person to contact me after that about relaxing but it wasn’t. I had a few other random strangers of the dead tell me to “ Chill out” and I found myself telling my hairdresser of all people that maybe I was really stressed out. My dreams only continued to get weirder until I came here and they stopped entirely. I didnt have much to stress about except about not being happy and the possibility of never finding it. Would I find happiness out there. Would my room mate suck? Would I be able to eat.. and the list went on.

But you know what? Every stupid little thing worked out.

Which brings me back to the other day.

Down in Corso I picked up a FaceTime from my parents.It was grocery day Alexis and I had stopped to watch a friend of a friend perform a a few songs on the side of the street. She was all googley eyed as he was singing his very popular cover of a famous Ed sheeran song while i was just giggling like a fool the whole time. Smiling I answered with the sounds fading from behind as I walked to the sea to find silence.

“ Are you drunk right now or buzzed? I’m positive you’ve been drinking”

... What an interesting first liner dare I say Yvonne? (She’d have my ass on a plate if I didn’t address her as anything but mom or mommy)

“ Actually this is just me being genuinely happy for once”

..And it was as easy as that..

[southsidelover]

🎧 DUH

playlists and headcanons + @yourpaljughead

(( Adopting the same style here, with a pre- and post- kiss format ))

before;1. parking lot ;; anderson .paak                             Well, you told me your whole life story in a few shorts                                 All the while I never knew the tone of your voice                                 A half an hour, I ramble on way too much (my love)                                      Alone with my own thoughts (my love)                                      (1, 2, 3, come on–) Enough is enough

His first initiation had passed, with only a whimper from Jughead. Grabbing the knife, and being bit, he’d survived, and that was what she did her best to impress upon him as the stumbled from the bar, now, high and drunk off of the cross-fade, her eyes red, and her grin, widened with pride. The parking lot in front of the Whyte Wrym was filled with bikes, with adults smoking, and now them, her hand reaching for his, despite the burn that she knew he’d be feeling now, and, in elation, helping him make a turn, her hands grasping his, the dizziness adding to the elation. “We gotta… we gotta make sure we remember this night, Juggie.” That nickname again, rolling off her tongue. And that look in his eyes, defensive, as he demanded, “What makes you feel you know me well enough to call me that?”“You told me your whole life story in a few shorts –” she started, rolling her eyes. Pink hair set askew. “I think I know you pretty well by now.” Laughing loudly, the world exploding in colour. Teaching him a song, then and there, a silly piece of bullshit that she made up on the spot. Knowing that, no matter what, even if they forgot each other’s names, and numbers in the future, that here, here was something fantastic. A memory that burned brilliant in seared form within her mind, one of them dancing, singing, in a parking lot in the middle of the Southside.

2. r u mine ;; arctic monkeys                                                          I’m a puppet on a string                         Tracy Island, time-traveling diamond cutter-shaped heartaches                                     Come to find you fall in some velvet morning                                                                Years too late

The sun was rising, and they’d come out early this morning. Both of them cutting through the field, on the lead for a new story that he was looking to write for the Red & Black. In traditional form, Toni complained, laughing as his stoic expression met her own, tired, her cap pulled low over her face to combat the fatigue that marked over her features in full. Watching him with a distant quiet, feeling something roil, alive and a little bit jealous, as he paused within this speech to respond to a text message on his phone.Betty, she assumed.Well, she was his girlfriend, after all.Eyes shifting to the horizon, where the sun was rising, a late start into the morning. “You know… me coming, every time you call on me. I feel like I’m a puppet on a string here.” exhaustion marked in her voice, more heartfelt than she’d meant it to be. A laugh covering for her in the now. “Nevermind. We what shots of what, now?”

3. love psycle ;; dumbfoundead                                  We’re friends and enemies, the same identity                               You’re a source of strength but a waste of energy                                 We play that game that some aren’t built for                                      Feel that pain that some would kill for                               We drank, we smoked, we’ve taken the pillform                                    Got high with you even as your mentor                                      What we had seemed irreplaceable

She was listening to him. Drunk dialled, on a night where she’d been out with other people, listening on the other side of the line, guilt panging within her chest, until she left, keeping him up on the line until she could reach him. Hanging up as she banged on the door, finding him drunk, belligerent. Only when he let her in, did she pull him to the couch, knowing he just needed to vent.Even if it hurt to listen, she took it, all of his drunken regrets and present feelings, nodding her head along with him, humming in places, so he knew that she was there with him as apart of the ride. Wondering if he could see her bleeding beneath the dim light that hung, bare bulb swinging. Waiting until he exhausted himself, passing out there on the couch, her fingers moving through his hair, brushing it back. Placing his beanie alongside of him. “… oh, Jones. You’re a source of strength, but a waste of energy.” Making sure she locked the door behind her, quietly. As to not disturb the troubled rest he found.

4. driving ms daisy ;; logic ft childish gambino                                                  She said that she love me                               She never said that in college… 3005 is our mileage                          I’m in my lane like a Prius, because I’m moving in silence                                             You still ain’t broke down yet?                              All the flashing lights and a couple Crown Vic’s                                Wanna rock a crown and a ring on the left

Another night out, but he’s with her this time, rather than the vice versa. A rare night when her parents benders wouldn’t drive them home - out in Atlantic City, raising hell instead of raising their child, but what else was new? So in the middle of playing old vinyl records and taking photos, she sat down to listen to him speak, as she seemed to always do.So many opportunities to move in for the kill. But she didn’t. She had her own lane, and that didn’t include stealing unhappy boyfriends, even if it’d be simple, if she really wanted it. Instead, in response to his conscious rambling, narrative style, she sighed. Toni leaning back against the floor, pink hair forming a halo beneath her head. “… so I see it now, Jones. You wanna rock a crown, and a ring on the left. Living the dream, even while your all the way out here…”It wasn’t a bad dream. Just a sad one, to her.

5. gravity ;; sara bareilles                                                   You hold me without touch                                                  You keep me without chains                                               I never wanted anything so much                                 Than to drown in your love and not feel your rain

Staying up late, she lay on a couch, a friend’s. Her own bed tonight was untenable, not exactly an option for a 16 year old who had school the next day. The arguments were getting so bad, that things were breaking; a sign that she needed to get the fuck out of there. And so she’d made a grand escape, calling Sweet Pea for a place of respite, finding comfort in the sinking weight of her frame against his couch.Telling him, in quiet tones, about the internal conflict that wracked her mind in the moment. Unsure of her next steps. The gang wanted her to pull Jones in, sure, but these feelings she was experiencing were getting in the way. Making it hard to tell the difference between orders and how she felt, sighing heavily, a hand cast over her eyes. “… Jones, Jones, Jones…” she muttered, disgusted with herself. “You keep me without chains.”

after; 1. moments ;; jhene aiko             These are the moments in time that we’ve been waiting our whole life to find                            That we’ve been searching for all through the night                                              Just tell me it will be alright

The kiss wasn’t calculated - one of the first things that she didn’t need to think about, not too deeply at least. He was singe now. The only thing that had kept her hands still towards him was removed, but as soon as she’d leaned in, feeling his reaction, pressing back, that kiss lingering, as soft as she wanted it… she knew internally that something was wrong. Maybe it was her, it was him, she couldn’t say, but there was a drop within her stomach.Pulling back, teeth biting down against her bottom lip a little too hard. “….” eyes raising to meet his, unsure. Even admitting the stutter within her felt difficult. “Just… just tell me it will be alright.” afraid of losing so many things within this moment; afraid of losing herself to someone who felt only halfway sure about her.

2. enchanted - j cole                                     I know you only do whats best for me                                   But is it cool if we negotiate my destiny                                    They always tellin’ me it’s temporary                                    Then why it’s feelin’ like a cemetery                                     My dreams ain’t got no obituaries                        My city hurtin’ and none of us well-equipped here

The aftermath was difficult, wrestling with internal guilt, the worry, the fact that she knew how rebounds worked. She wasn’t stupid, refusing to push aside pride and conscious fear, because within her, she knew. Nobody really looked out for her other than herself. As much as she might have wanted him to be someone who helped relieve the pressure, constantly, resting within her chest. Things left hanging on unsure notes, but she could move past that.Showing up one evening, eyes narrowed on him. Swallowing the anxiety that lanced through her, trying to take hold of the fear that held her tight. “Listen.” her voice sounded rough, cracked, barely able to speak above a whisper. “I know you only do what’s best for me… but is it cool?” gaze focused on him, with a laser’s focus. “If we negotiate my destiny?” The one with him in it.

3. favourite part ;; mac miller ft anderson .paak                                     If you wanna stay, we’re taking it slow baby                                 Cause you and me, and I got enough on my mind                                 But I can make some time for something so divine

She wasn’t used to waiting, but knew that she was dealing with certain virgin territory. And that wasn’t something to jump into, not for her, and not for him. Toni taking her time, quietly smoothing out the moments in which things grew heated between them, when they both could feel the pressure building in them, ready to pop. A careful hand, a softer kiss - she defused them all.Always giving him a soft smile. “We’re taking it slow baby.” she’d remind him, even though she could feel that urge to race to the finish line. But why? What would they gain from it? She had her own guilt to wrestle with, after all, and he, his own heartbreak. 

4. feel it ;; jacquees ft lloyd, rich homie quan                                              Tell me do you wanna be bad                                         Tell me do you wanna be bad babe                              With the shots, pow pow, you bust off like a uzi                                   Think I’m gonna need another mag babe

It’s been weeks now, and slowly, the comfort between them has deepened. To the point where she received text messages from him, with his best attempts at flirtation, an effort that she found pretty charming in and of itself. Cheeks flushed with a memory, of the two of them on his couch, the tentative promise he’d made her. That he could make her shake, and she would be a fucking liar if the idea didn’t intrigue her.Toni pausing, sending a text message, attaching a photo that she’d taken minutes earlier in the privacy of her room, one showing him the teasing start of what was waiting for him. The caption reading, as she sent it his way, ‘Tell me do you want to be bad?’, grinning, setting her phone down with a whirl of giddiness invading her stomach.

5. we all try ;; frank ocean                                                        I still believe in man                                                    A wise one asked me why                                        Cause I just don’t believe we’re wicked                                       I know that we sin but I do believe we try                                           We all try, the girls try, the boys try                                   Women try, men try, you and I try, try, we all try

It was quiet tonight, and they were near sleep. After a lot of discussion, they’d finally taken over FP’s bed, a temporary measure until his dad returned, at least that was the refrain they repeated between them. Their conversations growing heavy, as time grew between them. The nature of man coming up, meant to take aim at the pain that she clearly still held. Their relationship marked with starts, stops, and interruptions, from her end, and from his. But they tried. And to her, she did her best to describe that sentiment him, as sleep weighed down at her eyes.“I don’t believe my hands are cleanly… I can’t believe that you would let me touch your heart.” she murmured, voice soft, even as he curled his arms around her, holding her tight against his chest. A small smile cracking her visage, head canting, so that Toni’s eyes could match with his own, fingers intertwining within his own. “… but i’m thankful that you do. It’s through you, that I really have learned what the word ‘belief’ is meant to be about. I don’t believe that we’re wicked… I know that we sin.. but I do believe that we try.” And between them, they would try, try, and try again. Because that was what faith was.