#sorry it took me a bit to answer but i genuinely reread this more than once and i just couldn’t stop typing stuff | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

melancholymetropolis · 4 years ago

Text

No Idea

Pairings: Athlete!Kirishima x PlusSize!Reader

Summary: College AU The reader is Kirishima's History tutor and they kinda have a crush on each other. It takes an afterparty filled with horny guys and a skin-tight dress for Kiri to realize he wants them all to himself.

Warning: Do I even need to say it at this point? It's smut, obvi. Kinda unedited. The reader and her best friend are black. Kirishima is a football player; he's VERY possessive over the reader. Her best friend is a little gay for her as well.

Author's Note: This was a commission!!!!! The client gave me this insane prompt and I had no choice but to go over the word limit. If you want to commission me, click here! Your support really means the world to me. Enjoy!

Word Count: 5,300

“You’re back early!” My roommate, Liza, yelled from the other side of the apartment-style dorm room. The sound of her chair scraping the floor followed shortly after, along with the light footsteps of her sock-clad feet. “I left you a plate in the microwave, in case you were hungry. I could heat it up, if you’re too tired— why the long face? What happened?”

“He didn’t show up,” I sighed as I dropped my books on the table and sank into a chair.

“How can he not show up?” Liza fumed crossing her arms. “His GPA is already in the gutter from all the other quizzes he seemed to fail before the semester even started.”

“I know,” I replied in a bored tone.

“He’s on academic probation—”

“I know.”

“One more hiccup and he’ll be off the football team—”

“I know.”

“Not to mention how you practically have to bend backward to make time for him—”

“Mhm.”

“Just for him to flake on you for the third time! I just—”

“Liza, please,” I rose from my seat and stood in front of her. “You don’t have to be angry with me. It’s truly okay.”

“No! It’s not okay!” She stormed to the microwave and pulled the cover plate from the inside. She removed the foil and pushed it back into the device, before pressing the start button four times. She turns to face me and forces an angered sigh from her lips. “He likes you, you know that right?”

I lifted my books from the table and walked to our shared room. I took in the words that she threw at me with each step and digested them. Kirishima liked me. It wasn’t as though I didn’t have an inkling that he may be, sorta found me attractive. Although I wore glasses, I wasn’t blind. At least with them on. I saw the way he looked at me when we were less than a foot apart. Shoulders practically touching as we slouched over the Advanced American History textbook. Our hands brushing against each other’s ever so often. The sparkle in his eye when he looked at me longer than a few seconds; the blush on his cheeks when I smiled at his corny jokes. His persistent tendency to walk me home, although most times, we finished our study sessions just before dusk. The way he stayed glued to my side during the journey to my dorm. How he’d carry my books on the way. I noticed it all and practically welcomed it, since I too found him attractive. The spiky redhead just had a way of making everyone swoon over him. Kirishima was genuinely a nice person, not because there was something in it for him, but just because.

The beeping from the microwave brought me back to reality. I placed the textbooks on the designated space on the shelf and fixed my scattered stationery from that morning. Liza shuffled in with a bowl of baked fetta pasta, and a piece of toasted garlic bread a few minutes later. She placed the bowl on the desk, with a fork, a can of sparkling soda, and my favorite metal straw.

“What did I do to deserve you?” I said with a tired smile.

“Helped me pass ‘Text and Ideas’ with an A-,” Liza smiled back and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Oh right,” I took a seat at the desk and forked the starchy dish in my mouth. “This is heaven-sent.”

“I knew you’d like it!” She deemed walking to her own desk. “I got the recipe from tiktok.”

I hum in response and continued to stuff my face. After a few minutes of silence, I grab the phone from my back pocket and unlocked it. A new message from Kirishima was the newest notification from many and it said:

Hey, I am sorry for not showing up. My teammate got shitfaced and decided to take a dive into the fountain. It took three of us to pull him out. It sucks because I was really looking forward to seeing you.

Since my mouth had already filled to its brink with pasta, I opted for a tight-lipped smirk instead of a toothy one. Kirishima all but admitted that he missed me. My hunch was right: the feelings are mutual. I swallowed the pasta and swiveled around in my chair to look at Liza. Her eyes were glued to her phone, but she snapped her head up to laugh at the content on her screen. Once she was down laughing, I picked my phone up and pointed it in her general direction. Reaching forward, she grasped the device and quickly read the message.

“Don’t respond to him,” she said, handing the phone back to me.

“Why? I thought you were shipping us together?” I asked whilst forking more pasta in my mouth.

“That’s why I’m telling you what I am telling you!” Liza rose to her feet and in a split second, she stood in front of me with a sickening smile.

“I am afraid to ask,” I said with a sigh.

“You don’t have to; I’m gonna tell you anyway,” she squats between my legs and widens her smile. “That boy is already wrapped around your finger, all you need to do is pull away. Just a tiny bit and he’ll come running.”

“Liza. . .”

“Hear me out!” She rose to her feet again and walked to the closet. “Remember when I went thrift shopping last week and I picked up that cute bodycon dress?”

“Yeah. . . ?”

“Well, I washed it and realized that it didn’t have the BODY to fill it out properly.” She pulls the dress from the closet and turns back to me. “And since the Homecoming Afterparty is at the Quarterback's house tomorrow night, I thought it would be the perfect time for you to wear it.”

I eye the dress, taking in its extremely short length and strappy detailing on the front. One wrong move and my breasts would spill right out of it. But, one right move would have them fall onto Kiri’s lap. I tried my best to list the pros and cons of the situation. Pondering what I could get out of the ordeal going to the lion’s den dressed as a gazelle. Yet, all I could imagine was me twerking on someone’s son and taking him home afterward.

💘🖤💘🖤

The dress fit like a glove: perfectly tight, almost like a second skin, but very breathable. I paired it with some hoop earrings, a few bangles on each wrist, and 3-inch kitten heels. My goal was to dress to impress, not nurse my aching arches by the end of the night. The entire ride over to the nicer part of town was nerve-wracking, for one, the Uber driver wouldn’t stop staring at my cleavage from the driver’s mirror. And, secondly, Liza practically had phone sex with her boyfriend, who was going to meet us at the party. I stared down at my phone the whole time, rereading Kiri’s message and the ones he sent afterward. It was true, he was wrapped around my finger. He didn’t double text; Kirishima sent five messages in a row.

Hey, are you free tomorrow? I wanted to talk about yesterday.

I’ll buy you that weird thing you like from Starbucks.

The drink you said that tastes like the moon.`

And I’ll get you those cake pop things.

My heart couldn’t help but flutter; I didn’t know he was paying that much attention to me. I only mentioned that Starbucks drink once in his presence, quite a while ago. It had to be a little over a month ago, yet he still remembered.

The car stopped and Liza popped right out. Her 34 inch Brazilian, straight swaying behind her as she closes the door. Still chatting with her boyfriend, she motions me out of the car with an eager smile. Reluctantly, I detach myself from the cool leather and tug on my dress as I closed the door behind me. I looked up toward the mansion before me, white paint and overwhelming size almost frightened me. But, when I saw a familiar, spiky-haired, redhead, all my potential fear left my body and warmth replaced it.

Kirishima’s back was to me; he was having an intense conversation with his best friend, Bakugo, one of the team’s Linebackers. The blond was so close to popping a fuse but Kiri was struggling to keep from laughing directly in his face. I approach the porch, slow and sensual, my eyes glued to him the entire walk over. Kirishima briefly turns around to address a comer of the group, Sero, an offensive player, when his eyes come up the steps. The humorous expression on his face drops and is replaced with awe. The other two boys look in the direction of his eyesight and replicate his reaction.

“Hi—” I lifted my hand to wave, but it never made it past my abdomen. Liza appeared right in front of me and captured my wrist.

“Girl, it’s our song! Hurry up!” She said as she proceeded to drag me into the house.

“Bye—! Wait, damn!”

Liza pulled me to the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the living room of the home. She starts to bop side to side, swaying her hips in place. It takes me a few seconds to register that “34+35” was blasting the speakers. Liza twirls around me in a fit of giggles and continues to bop along to the music.

“I thought you liked “positions” better than this track?” I questioned as I matched her rhythm.

“I do! I just had to get you out of there,” Liza answered as she swayed her head back and forth. Which made her hair move in an angelic wave behind her bandeau top and pencil skirt. “Those three guys looked like they wanted to run a train on you.”

“ELIZABETH!!!!” I screamed with a shocked smile.

“What?! I’m not lying!” She gives me a bashful smirk. “You look so good, mamas! Shit, you're making me rethink my relationship with Shinso.”

“Oh my god!” I laughed. “I can’t take your ass anywhere, for real!”

The song began to fade out and bleed into “Pussy Talk” with the infamous City Girls. Liza’s soft bops began to move into full booty bouncing. Soon her hands are on her knees and she’s throwing her ass back on my lap. I press my hand flat on her back and lift my other hand in the air. She whines her waist and looks back at me as her inner hot girl is threatening to make an appearance. Shortly after the first verse, Liza straightens her back and dances around me as I bop to the side, bouncing my ass to the music. A smile comes to my lips as my favorite part plays on full blast.

“Pussy talented, it do cartwheels,” Liza and I screamed in unison. “And he pay ‘cause he like how that part feel.”

“Pussy give speeches, heartfelt,” I continued, popping my back against my friend.

“Yuh,” Liza ad-libbed.

“Said the pussy really talk like it Garfield,” I rapped as I felt Liza’s hands glide up my sides.

“It do!”

We danced around each other for the rest of the song and pulled away from the floor, desperately needing to hydrate. We practically stumbled toward the makeshift bar across the living room. We reached into the cooler and pulled out two bottles of water. We chugged the water and tossed the empty bottles in the trash.

“Only water, ladies?” Mineta asked as we turned back towards the dance floor. “You don’t want something a little. . . stronger?”

“Get lost, grape juice,” a familiar voice suddenly came out of nowhere.

Just a few feet behind the purple blob stood Kirishima and Shinso. If looks could kill, Mineta’s body parts would be staining the marble floors and messing up my fresh pedicure. The poor excuse for a human scurried away as both football players approached us. Shinso instantly wrapped his arms around Liza and planted a kiss on her forehead.

“Having fun, baby girl?” His low voice sounded sensual against the harsh music.

A seductive smile falls on Liza’s face. “I would’ve had even more fun if you actually danced with me for once.”

“You know I don’t like—”

“Too bad!” She pulled Shinso to the dance floor.

Leaving me alone with Kirishima. I turned to look at him and offered him an awkward smile. “How was your diving lesson?”

The redhead returned my smile and scratched the back of his neck. “So you did read me my texts? I was starting to think you were mad at me or something.”

“Not at you, per se,” I replied thinking of my words carefully.

“Then who were you mad at?” Kirishima closes the distance between us and puts a finger under my chin. He redirects my attention to his face and gives me a smirk.

He looked good and he knew it. He wore a simple white t-shirt and black ripped jeans. But, he paired it with a burgundy leather jacket and a Cuban link silver chain. He had a gold wristwatch on his left wrist and a simple chain on his right. And his cologne. . . it danced in my nostrils. It wasn’t too heavy or suffocating; you simply had to be close to him to smell it.

Kirishima was playing a dangerous game and he knew it.

“At the people that take you away from me,” I looked at him with doughy eyes and slightly parted lips. A look of innocence was written all over my face.

Kirishima clenched his jaw and briefly looked away. A blush starting to form on his cheeks. “Well, I—. Shit.” He remained silent for a few seconds, gathering his words, before saying “You don’t know what you do to me, Y/N.”

“And what’s that?” I asked while removing his hand from my chin and bringing it to my lips. I gently kiss his bruised knuckles, never breaking eye contact while doing so.

The redhead opens his mouth to speak but is rudely interrupted by a yelling Liza.

“GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE, BITCH!!!! THEY’RE PLAYING OUR SONG!!!!”

While I was talking to Kirishima, the music seemed to slip away. I had no idea what was playing until I refocused my attention on the blaring speakers. “Come on, Kiri. Duty calls.” I drag him to the dance floor.

Liza unlatches herself from Shinso and twirls around me. “I’m not shy, I’ll say it. I’ve been picturing you naked.”

“I’m a little faded, you look like a fucking painting,” I continue the verse as I glide my hands along my body. “Big doe eyes, amazin’. She’s everything I’ve been prayin’.”

Liza walked up to Kirishima and glided her hand along his chest. “Me and your girlfriend playin’ dress-up house.” She pressed two fingers against her lips and poked her tongue out. “I gave your girlfriend cunnilingus on my couch.”

Kirishima blushes a bright red, nearly matching his hair. It takes everything in me not to laugh.

I look back at Shinso and he’s just shaking his head with a smile on his face.

“Go get your girlfriend, before she devours your teammate,” I said giggly quietly.

“Go get your best friend before she kills your loverboy,” Shinso counters looking down at me with a smirk.

“He looks like he's gonna pass out,” I replied, struggling to contain my laughter.

“If you think that’s bad, you should’ve seen him when you were twerking on Liza,” Shinso jested while leaning closer to me. “Eijiro looked like he came in his pants.”

I smacked his arm and leaned against his chest. “You’re lying!” Laughter overcame my body; tears were gathering in the corners of my eyes.

“I swear to god,” Shinso struggled to say while laughing. “Then, when Bakugo called you hot. . . Eiji almost went feral.”

“Stop. . . I can’t breathe. . .”

“You better fuck him like the world is ending. . . I can’t keep stopping him from. . . fighting the entire team over you.”

“You and Liza. . . perfect for each other. . . I cannot. . .”

The song swiftly faded out into another. Yet another one of Liza’s favorites: Buss it by Erika Banks.

The young woman peeled herself from Kirishima and began walking to her boyfriend. I distanced myself from Shinso and walked over to Kirishima. I wrapped my arms around his neck and looked into his eyes. “Are you okay, Kiri?” A smile painted my lips.

His eyes darkened and he gripped my waist firmly. “I want you. . . so bad right now.”

“How about we get outta here?” I suggested with a raised eyebrow.

“Go say goodbye to your friends, I’ll bring the car around,” Kirishima asserted with a smirk. He pressed a kiss to my forehead before detaching himself from me and walking out of the living room.

I turned back to Shinso and Liza, who were seconds away from eating each other’s face off. I tapped the loving couple and cleared my throat. They both pulled away and stared at me.

"We're leaving," I said simply.

"About fucking time," Liza replied with a smirk. "You better come back to the dorm in a goddamn wheelchair, if not, I'm sending you back to his place."

"You have like zero chill," I shook my head and waved goodbye.

"Don't forget to use protection!" Liza yelled after me.

A chuckle fell from my lips as I walked out of the front door. I found Kirishima exactly where he said he'd be: parked in front of the massive house, within a bright red mustang. He exited the car and walked around to the passenger side of the vehicle. He opened my door and helped me get in. Kirishima made sure I was buckled in and comfortable before entering the car on the driver's side.

He starts the vehicle, and places his right hand on my thigh. He gives the plush fresh a securing squeeze before pulling away from the curb.

The drive was short and sweet, averaging around ten minutes. We parked across the street from the boys’ dorm hall and exited the car. Kirishima opened my door and helped me out of the vehicle.

"If you don't want this, I could always take you home," he said as he shut my door. "I don't want to pressure you into anything."

"I want this more than you know," I responded while gripping his hand. "But, if I ever feel uncomfortable, I'll let you know."

Kirishima nods and smiles. "Good girl. Now let's go."

The moment his dorm's door closed, his body was pressed against mine and his hand glued to my waist. His lips massaged against my own, slow and sensually. I moaned against the kiss, and pressed my body closer to his. He felt so good attached to me, almost like he was meant to be against me. His searing hot kisses inched down my jawline and to my neck. Kirishima's hands slid up my abdomen and to my shoulders, he slipped the straps from the curved surface and pulled away just enough just to allow me to remove them from my arms.

He kissed the other side of my neck, leaving little bites here and there. The redhead ran his tongue against my collarbones and I swear a flood rushed to my nether regions. Kirishima kissed down and left my breast, gathering the anticipation that swirled through my body before latching his lips on my nipple. A throat my moan fell from my mouth and my legs jolted slightly. My mind continued to fog as he nestled against the sensitive bud, while happily moaning against the soft flesh. I pressed one hand against the front door and another in his hair.

Pants left my lips as I began to squirm underneath his body. "Take me to the bed, please," I begged while looking down at him. " I want you so bad, Kiri."

The redhead detached himself from my breast and gripped my chin. "Say my name, baby." His red eyes stared deeply into my brown ones, taking in every little detail of my expression.

"Eijiro," I said breathlessly.

"Say it again," he broke eye contact and gripped my waist.

"Eijiro."

His hands slipped down the curve of my rear and to my legs. He lifted limbs from off the ground and wrapped them around his waist. I wrapped my arms around his leg immediately afterward and giggled.

He walked further into the dorm room and passed through another dorm. He sits me on the extra-long twin bed and falls to his knees between my legs. Kiri unlatches my strappy heel and tosses it to the other side of the room. While he does the other foot, a smirk presses against his lips.

"What?" I asked while looking down at him.

"I'm just thinking about how this started," he said while smiling. "How my shifty grades gave me the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Stop it," I counter with a blush on my face. "You're exaggerating."

"Baby, I mean it with every fiber of my being when I say this," he leaned forward. "I've wanted to be with you for a while now, I just didn't know if you'd like me back. And I was kinda ashamed of taking so long to say something because you're so sweet and you really helped me a lot with Advanced American History. I didn’t want you to think I was using you for information or anything."

I leaned forward and pressed my lips on his forehead. "I liked you even before I officially knew you. When you beat the shit out of that guy that tried to home a drunk girl."

"I don't even remember that."

"It was during a Halloween party last year, that was when I first saw you. And I thought, "wow I wish more men like him existed in this world"."

"I can't believe you remember that."

"How could I not? You basically saved that girl's life and dignity. You were the only human being in a room full of predators. That's when I knew I wanted you for myself."

Kirishima laughs. "Greedy, little Y/N."

I shrugged.

"Come here."

I gathered the football player into my arms and pressed my lips onto his. Taking in every ounce of his kiss. Sucking on his bottom lip. Slipping my tongue within his mouth. Tugging against his collar to close the distance between us. After a few seconds, Kirishima kissed down my body again until he was face to face with my heated center. He scrunched the dress around my waist and pulled my panties off my legs before spreading my legs wide open.

"Oh… look how wet you are, baby," he kissed the soft skin in between my thighs. "All for me."

Kirishima dipped his head between my legs and took a long swipe at the sticky mess between them. A shiver ran along my spine, Arching my back, I released a soft whimper and spread my legs further apart. He dipped his tongue into the smooth canal repeatedly, bobbing his head as he completed the action. His calloused hands slid up my legs once more and hooked around my thighs. Kiri moved his hot mouth from the very bottom of my womanhood to the top, leaving a long string of spit along the way. The redhead sucked on the protruding bud tenderly; with hollowed cheeks, he looked up from my heat and stared into my eyes. I bit my lip and moaned loudly.

“Fuck, you feel good,” I arched my back against his mouth and bucked my hips slowly.

Kirishima released my bud with a silent “pop” and began lapping the rosy, pink button in great haste. My legs jolted at the new source of stimulation and a throaty whine fell from my lips. Squeezing my eyes shut, I squirmed underneath his mouth, desperately wanting to add more friction. Kiri noticed my slutty movements and began to move his tongue even faster.

“Ah. . . just like that, don’t stop,” my fingers gathered my bosoms and gave them a firm squeeze. The walls of my slick cave began to clench and release themselves at a faster pace. Tingles rose up my body, swirling against my lower abdomen, almost numbing my lower half entirely. Then, a searing sensation ripped through me, causing my hips to raise from the bed and my knees to shake. A low scream left my mouth as I felt the throbbing of my bud increase tremendously.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” My hips fell on the bed again and my legs shook violently. Kirishima steadied them as much as he could before a whole another wave hit my body and my entire being went still.

“Ah! Eijiro!” I screamed as the pleasure shot through my body for the last time. Pants left my throat and short spurts, just as sweat dripped from my forehead. I looked down at Kirishima, who had just pulled away from my spasming cunny. He had a look of astonishment on his face, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. He looked down at my wrecked body, taking in the shaking limbs, the thin layer of sweat upon it, and the scrunched-up dress at the waist.

“You sounded so hot screaming my name,” he finally said after a few seconds of silence. “No one has ever made it sound so good as you.”

“Well, grab a condom and I’ll scream your name for the rest of the night,” I replied with a smirk. “If you can last that long.”

“Oh, baby,” Kiri’s smile widened. “You have no idea.”

He walked over to his dresser and pulled out a box of condoms from the top drawer. He ripped one off the sleeve and walked back over to me. I pulled the scrunched-up dress over my head and tossed it to the side. I looked over at Kiri and he’d already stripped himself of his T-shirt. He was currently unbuckling his belt with the condom packet in his mouth. His massive bulge immediately caught my eye and I moaned in anticipation. Kirishima rips the packet open with his teeth and rolls latex down his throbbing shaft. My walls clench at the delicious sight and I could feel my nipple begin to stiffen

“If you’re still tired, we can wait a little—” Kirishima begins to say before I cut him off.

“Eijiro, stop being nice and fuck me like a slut.”

His lips were on mine within the next heartbeat. His hands roamed every crevice of my body, taking in the soft tissue and stretchmarks lovingly. His throbbing member slowly slid into me with little to no friction. He made sure to thumb my clitoris while inserting himself, just so he wouldn’t hurt me. And I swear, I was seconds away from asking him to marry me. He gently moved his hips backward, and then pushed forward again. Highlighting his first stroke. He looked at the crimson hue on my face and leaned down to kiss me.

“You are so pretty, princess,” Kiri groaned softly, as he moved his hips at a gentle pace. “So, so pretty.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him again. Our tongues danced together as his member tenderly kissed my sensitive walls with each thrust. Kirishima moaned against my lips, as he took in every part of that union. He hiked up one of my legs and hooked it around his waist while he cradled the back of my neck with the other. He looked into my eyes as he increased the pressure of his strokes and their depth. My mouth hung open, and drool poured from the side of it as he kept up the sickening pace. My eyes began to roll back as throat moans rose from the depth of my body.

“Oh God. . .” I slurred as the pleasure increased within my body.

“Aww look at my pretty baby,” Kiri grunted as he rested his hand on my neck. He pressed his thumb between my lips.

I sucked on the digit and looked into his eyes. He moved his hips faster and my lips separated from around the finger. Pants fell from my lips as I felt his member sensually assault my cervix. After a few minutes, Kirishima suddenly pauses and hikes one of my legs up to his shoulders. He readjusts his body, leaving his hand on my neck and placing his hand on my clit. Kiri began to rock his hips in a powerful, but steady motion. He rubs the throbbing bud in a gentle motion, slowly gathering every ounce of pleasure within my body. The pace of my breathing increased rapidly, as the pool in my stomach began to inflate. Whimpers fell from my lips as I gripped the sheets underneath me.

“I’m so close. . .” I whispered through tight lips. “Please don’t stop. . .”

“You’re squeezing me so deliciously tight, baby,” Kirishima grunts as a droplet of sweat drops from his brow. “Milking my cock for everything it’s worth. What a greedy little cunny you have.”

“Eijiro. . . I wanna cum so bad,” I whimpered through pants. “Please let me cum, baby.”

Kirishima curses under his breath and releases his hand from my throbbing bud. He places both hands onto my neck, thumbs pressing against my jaw. He eases his body forward and keeps his sickening pace. “You’re gonna be the death of me, I swear.”

I sucked in a breath and wrapped my hands around his forearms. I furrow my brows and pant with my mouth open. “You make me feel so good, Eiji. So fucking good!”

“You’re mine, you hear me?” He drops his hands from my neck and presses his forehead to mine. “You don’t get to fuck anyone else. . . . .You don’t get to be with anyone else. . . .My name will be the only name you moan for the rest of your life, do you understand?”

I nod. “I understand.”

“You’re mine and no one else's.”

He pulls me into a searing hot kiss. Drinking in all the love and energy throughout my body. I hook my arms around his neck and moan against his lips. Suddenly, I felt an intense rush of adrenaline pass through my body and everything seemed to go silent. A low ringing noise sounded in my ear as my mouth fell open. I dug my arms into his back and clung to his body. Every fiber of my being tensed and my mind went completely blank for several seconds. Then, slowly, my body released itself and collapsed onto the bed. I opened my eyes lazily to see Kirishima’s eyes tightly closed and his hips slightly shaking. Once he finished his ride, his body relaxed and he lowered my leg from his shoulder. He pulled me into an embrace and pressed another kiss onto my lips.

I pulled away from the kiss and looked into his crimson eyes. “Were you serious about calling me yours?”

“Ugh. . . yes?” He replied hesitantly. Then, he added “If that’s okay with you! I don’t wanna force you—”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I cut him off with a smirk.

“Oh, I was worried for a second.”

“The only thing you should be worried about is your Advanced American History grade.”

“Oh, right. . .”

“You miss another one of my sessions, I’ll ignore you again.”

“Please don’t! I will be present at every session.”

“Good. And you have to be Starbucks.”

“The drink that tastes like the moon?”

“Matcha latte with 2 pumps of chai. Yup.”

“And two chocolate cake pops.”

“Mhm. You know me so well.”

852 notes · View notes

nedlittle · 2 years ago

Note

thoughts on twilight

this has been fermenting in my inbox because i saw it and immediately got into a spirited debate with my best friend over the correct ranking of the twilight films (my answer is: twilight/breaking dawn pt 2/new moon/breaking dawn pt. 1/eclipse. my best friend was trying to argue that new moon is the worst but the soundtrack fucks so supremely it saves it from the slush pile). anyway. being a twilight girl (gn) from approx. grades 5-8 was the great equalizer. it crossed boundaries. you found your most unlikely comrades in the foxholes of the twilight trenches discussing how breaking dawn would end in between subjects. it was like what i imagine model un is like. there were at least two other people in my class aside from myself who got alice's haircut (which i do think is genuinely quite cute but the thing is we were all pudgy-faced 6th graders so it was not the most flattering of haircuts. whoever is responsible for alice's hair in bdpt1 i will hunt you for sport). i would sit on my kitchen floor rereading those damn books like i was possessed and i think eclipse was my favourite but don't quote me. the only two movies i saw in theatres were the og and new moon and the memory of rolling my eyes whenever jacob took his shirt off is burned into my psyche. i continued to be repressed for more than a decade after that but to be fair i was also 12 and catholic. the first movie is a Good Movie both in that there are some solid technical elements and in that it's so funny i'm sorry. in uni my roommates and i watched all the films back to back for the first time and we were so emotionally strung out by the absolute roller coaster of emotions we experienced over the course of 10 hours that we all genuinely started sobbing our goddamn eyes out during the final battle/vision and then cried again when literally every single character is given their due in the credits bc it's just really sweet :'). then my parents stopped by for a visit like half an hour later and we were like hello. we are all normal. also the composers on those films were absolutely STACKED??? carter burwell twilight/breaking dawn both parts alexandre desplat new moon goddamn HOWARD SHORE for ECLIPSE??? howard why did you score the WORST one??? the soundtracks ripped. they had no reason being as good as they were. the last two were shot by gdt collaborator guillermo navarro and it SHOWS they look FANTASTIC. by the last two everything genuinely was camp. i think engaging with twilight in the year 2022 is a bit different than engaging with...y'know bc smeyer isn't actively on twitter like i think all trans people should be forcibly detransitioned and then burned at the stake you guys wanna see how much i can hate minorities but then there is the whole vampirism makes you white & indigenous people are literally animals i'm gonna make billions off a racist misappropriation of your tribe while you get nothing thing. i mean it's a case of Use Your Brain While Critically Engaging With Media but if you've spend actual money on something twilight-related in the past like. three years. why? pirate that shit. at least donate the same amount to the quiluete higher ground fund sidenote did you know that quiluete is one of only a handful of languages that doesn't have nasal vowels? that's neat. billy burke charlie swan performance of a lifetime. seth and leah clearwater best characters.

i got this ask before the mcr twilight show in washington happened and i just have to restate. "i want to watch you turn into a werewolf" on the drum. coming back for the encore in a team edward shirt (WHERE DID IT COME FROM. I DESPERATELY NEED TO KNOW THE PROVENANCE OF THIS PARTICULAR ITEM OF CLOTHING) simping for rpattz in the batman into your song about being asked to write a song for one of the twilight movies and saying Fuck No into the first paragraph of interview with the vampire read into the vocal distorter into your biggest banger also about vampires into the final song of the night and arguably your saddest which is about dying of cancer. thanks for coming to the show glad you enjoyed the double vampire encore now think about your own mortality.

those are my thoughts on twilight :^)

#long post #jeynepoole #answered #this unlocked something in me. as you can tell #fully did not check to see if this is coherent i know it isn't i just sat down and typed until i ran out of things to say #my firefox window rn is just like. tumblr. two job postings. 32 wikipedia entries abt various synagogues. the quiluete language #(i've been looking up various Massive and Beautiful religious buildings since last night i've already done churches & mosques)

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loftec · 3 years ago

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After rereading the latest chapter a few times because it was amazing, I went back and scoured several of the last chapters and now I have questions. Did I miss the name of Broken Bell’s latest album or is this just revealed to us as being named after the song he wrote for Mickey, and if so, what is that name?

Hello friend! First off, I’m so sorry for taking ages to reply. I swear I genuinely meant to answer this right when you sent it in but here we are. It’s. I don’t know. It is what it is.

You didn’t miss it and you’re definitely not alone! I’ve got other questions like this (which I have also neglected to answer 😬), and I’m very excited about it. Here’s the thing, the album is called ”None the wiser”, and I’ve written myself into a bit of a corner with the whole thing! Way way back when I started planning this story, I meant for Mickey to peruse the merch table at the concert and casually discover, along with us, the name of the album. A lot of things were different in the original plan, all of which makes me so happy that I took the time to rethink and grow with the story because… yikes lol. It was a bit, I don’t know. It was pretty cheesy, and it got really obvious that it wouldn’t work at all once the story got closer to the concert date.

So, well. As things progressed, the plan changed and the album title reveal was one of many little changes, for a few reasons.

For one, the fic is called ”None the wiser” after the song Ian sings, and the album is also called ”None the wiser” after that same song, so I didn’t want to dwell on the album title before Ian had a chance to sing the song. (The tour is also called NTW, btw, so please go ahead and imagine Mickey showing up to the concert and walking past a whole wall plastered with NTW posters). Also, the phrase wouldn’t mean much of anything to Mickey at the time, so it didn’t make sense for him to linger on it too much. Seeing ”NTW tour 16” on posters wouldn’t tell him anything, and seeing the album title wouldn’t mean more than any of the other album titles, you know?

Well! Now I’m in a situation where Ian knows the name of his album and Mickey knows the name of the album, and I just have to find a moment where it makes sense for it to be mentioned so you guys also know the name of the album! I tried last chapter, but I didn’t feel that it would make sense for them type out the whole title over text when they both know what it is (also while tipsy and trying to be coy). I wasn’t sure if I should have brought it up at all, it was a very late & unplanned addition to the chapter, but it felt emotionally sincere in the moment and I decided to just go with it. I wasn’t sure anyone would notice and I’m really excited that you did, somehow it makes it worth all the time I spent thinking about it!

I’m actually trying to decide right now if I want them to talk more about this in the next chapter, or at a later time (which was loosely the original plan). What do you think? Would you like them to hash out some details sooner or later?

Tbh I did a very poor job planning out a lot of things in the beginning of this fic, and I’m paying for it now. The timeline works alright for Mickey, but there’s a lot of unrealistic music business things going on in the background that I didn’t think would matter then that I now really regret not thinking more realistically about. Not sure how interesting these things are though! But I’d be happy to write more about it if anyone’s keen to know.

#NTW #writing and answering some asks today #hopefully

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wingsofanillyrian · 4 years ago

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Lights Over Monaco: Chapter 3

Day late but here you go! Thank you to @acourtofcouture for beta-ing and putting up with me!

Chapter Masterlist

The six hour flight left Nesta well rested and refreshed as she checked into her hotel. She texted Jacob to check in and make sure none of his equipment had gotten lost on the flight. Having arrived a day earlier, he had been lurking around paddocks in hopes of capturing any drama on film.

He assured her everything had made it safely and informed her there were rumors flying about transmission troubles with the McLaren team. Nesta told him to keep an eye on it and unpacked her suitcase.

Nesta had just sat down when her phone rang. It was Tomas. Sighing, she decided she couldn’t avoid him forever.

“Tomas,” She answered coldly.

“About damn time you picked up the phone,” He replied, remorseless. He wasn’t earning himself any points. “What room are you in?”

She frowned. “How do you know if I’m even in Baku?”

“Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to find out flight numbers.” Interesting, he was keeping tabs on her.

“I don’t want to-”

“I said what room?”

Nesta sank back in the plush chair. Truthfully, she did want to see him, if only to determine what he had to say for himself. She couldn’t let go of the hope that somehow this was all a simple misunderstanding.

“Fourteen twelve,” She told him, instantly regretting it.

She heard him shuffling on the other end. “Five minutes.”

A knock on her door sounded a few minutes later, and she let Tomas in. “I saw the story.”

“Obviously,” Nesta scoffed, crossing her arms. Tomas reached for her but she stepped away. His eyes went bright with anger. She would not make this easy for him.

“I tried calling you.”

“I am aware.” Nesta picked at her nails to hide her trembling, trying to appear utterly nonplussed. “Did you sleep with her?”

“Yes.”

Nesta froze. Ever so slowly, her gaze slid to Tomas. Back straight, chin jutting out, staring down his nose at her. He still showed no sign of regret, nothing that would indicate he made a mistake.

“Why?” She rasped, fighting back tears. Tomas was not worth it.

He shrugged. “Because I wanted to. You and I are just fucking anyways. What does it matter?”

Nesta recoiled, blinking. “I can’t do this.” She had grossly miscalculated their entire relationship. Her palms began to sweat, her breathing increasing to a fever pitch. She pressed a hand to her chest, praying that the pressure would prevent her glass heart from shattering. Instead, it pushed the shards further into her lungs, making each breath ragged.

“Get out,” She whispered. Tomas scoffed, stepping forward.

“Nesta-”

“Out!” She repeated, more forcefully. She only needed to hold herself together for a few more seconds until he was out the door, then she could crumble.

Tomas’ face twisted. “Fine. I’ll see you at the paddock tomorrow anyway, I’m sure.”

Nesta let out a choked sob as soon as the door slammed shut. Her resolve broke, the dam inside of her punched through. Tears flowed freely down her face as she fell to her knees. She shouldn’t have loved him.

Before they had met, she knew he was nothing but a heartbreaker. He went through women the way a drunk went through a bottle of liquor. Tomas viewed women in the same way as well; objects to be used until they were no more than empty shells and then discarded.

Nesta let the grief crash against her for a handful of minutes before she realized how useless it was. Tomas would never love her. Honestly, she wasn’t sure if he was capable of feeling such an emotion at all. There was no use letting him affect her.

Gathering her strength, Nesta stood. She looked at the sorry image in the mirror, taking in the red eyes, the mascara tracking down her cheeks, the disheveled hair. She wouldn’t let a man crush her. She had made it this far by blinding herself to the sneers and derogatory comments thrown at her. Why couldn’t she do the same to get over Tomas?

But as she climbed into bed, she realized how flawed that mentality was.

**********

Sunday’s race kept Nesta busy. Lucien and Azriel collided in lap three, causing a safety car and ultimately leading to the pair of them being unable to finish the race. Nesta had seen it on a television hanging in the Mercedes garage, the entire team letting out a collective shout when Vanserra didn’t yield to Azriel in the 90 degree turn and the Red Bull tangled with the Mercedes. Both cars were a mess of broken carbon fiber and snapped suspension bits.

Nesta managed to corner Azriel and get a few heated words out of him, a rare bit of annoyance showing through his usual calm. “Vanserra should have cut into the corner more sharply. He was way off the racing line.”

“Some people would say that you should have backed off and yielded the position to him,” Nesta added, hoping to get him worked up further. “What are your thoughts on that?”

Azriel glared at the camera, addressing anyone who dared think the incident had been his fault. “If you’re not allowed to defend, what’s racing about, then?”

Azriel turned on his heel and belined back to the garage. Jacob lowered the camera and turned to Nesta to ask, “You don’t actually believe it was Azriel’s fault, do you?”

“Of course not.” Nesta’s attention returned to the monitors and she grimaced. The racing incident had allowed Tomas to move up into first. Cassian was only a second behind, but struggling to overtake. At least she no longer had to be invested in Tomas holding his position. She couldn’t care less if he won or not.

In the end, it was Tomas taking home top points for Red Bull, Cassian bringing home 18 for Mercedes and Varian with a handful for McLaren spraying the champagne on the podium. Red Bull’s one stop strategy meant that when Cassian dipped into the pits on lap 38 for a fresh set of soft compound tires and one of the wheel nuts got stuck, Tomas was the clear winner. Cassian had no way to make up the 10 second deficit. The 25 points Tomas’ first place finish awarded him allowed him to slip past Cassian and snag the championship lead.

And gods, was he smug about it.

Nesta told herself she didn’t care when Tomas sauntered into the press pen, his self-satisfied smile directed at her as he sat. Cassian and Varian filed in moments later, each silent as they took their seats. The room paused, Cassian’s hazel eyes flicking to where she sat front row. Everyone was waiting…. For her.

But her mind was blank. Not a single race related question surfaced. Nesta panicked, clenching a fist hard enough to feel her nails bite her palm. After a few beats of silence, the roar of the other reporters filled her head.

They had been waiting for her to ask something - anything - and she couldn’t come up with a single damned thing to say.

Jacob nudged her side. “You good?”

Nesta was too lost in the tangled web of thoughts to reply. This had all been a game to Tomas; his attitude now told her that. He had used her to gain favor with other teams and build a solid reputation with fans. After all, what better way to gain positive media attention than to have the sport’s most infamous writer in your bed?

She managed to keep her face carefully blank until the end of the conference. She didn’t say a word to Jacob as he packed up, shooting her confused glances all the while. The walls of the room pushed in on her, chest becoming tight. Standing on shaky legs, she fled down the hall, finding an abandoned alcove far from the cacophony of noise.

Chest heaving, Nesta tried to sort through her revelation. Tomas had used her. He had never intended to let this drag out. Those pictures had likely been a calculated move on his end, intended to spear her heart. Maybe breaking her had been his plan all along. He seemed to enjoy her emptiness, judging by the way he kept glancing at her during the conference.

Her phone vibrated. Against her better judgement, she checked it. It was only Jacob, asking where she was. She only texted back to say that she was fine before gathering herself. She couldn’t just crumble in a hallway where anyone could see her.

She had just began to head towards the exit when someone jogged behind her. “Hey!”

“Not now Cassian,” Nesta said, annoyance evident. How did he always manage to find her when she wanted to be left alone? It was like he had some kind of sixth sense, focused directly on her.

“Hold on,” He said, fingers brushing her arm. The touch froze her, muscles coiling. It had only been a brief moment, but the surprise of it was enough to disarm her. “You okay? You didn’t say a word at the conference.”

Her lips peeled back in a snarl. “Why do you care?”

He did not flinch. Most would have. “Because I’m a decent person, believe it or not.” She searched his face for any sign of insincerity. She couldn’t find any; his hazel eyes held only honeyed truths.

Nesta’s laugh was cruel, hot tears threatening to fall. “Right. Sure you are. Suddenly you feel like caring about how I feel instead of fucking with me. How about you leave me to my misery, Cassian? No need to rub it in.”

She didn’t wait for a response. Didn’t want to see the look on his face, whether it was anger or smug satisfaction, or something else entirely.

Nesta managed to make it out and call a taxi to take her back to the hotel. She was silent the entire ride, not bothering with half-hearted small talk. Collapsing on the bed, she didn’t bother changing. She queued up a cheesy comedy film, one that was full of stupid jokes that were funny when it first came out, but not relevant in the present day.

Halfway through, Nesta grew bored and checked her phone. There was a text from an unknown number.

You okay? You never answered me.

"What the fuck," Nesta mumbled, rereading the message. How had Cassian gotten her number?

Fine, was all she said back. She didn't know why she even bothered responding. Maybe it was because he had seemed genuinely concerned in that hallway and she felt slightly guilty for blowing him off.

I can buy you a drink if you come down to the hotel bar

Fuck off and leave me alone

Gladly.

Nesta let out a frustrated sigh and texted Jacob.

You gave him my number didn't you?

Jacob's response was only an emoji of a nervous smile.

"Little fucker," She mumbled, tossing her phone aside. She'd throttle him tomorrow on the plane. Right now, she was too hungry to send a snarky reply. If she slipped out the back, she could grab a burger without having to chance running into Cassian at the bar.

Grabbing a sweater - the desert got cold at night, she'd learned that the hard way - she made the trek down the fourteen flights of stairs, trying to piece together her life.

By the time she made it to a fast food shop, she was exhausted. She inhaled her meal in minutes, lounging in the dingy booth. She looked at her phone for what felt like the thousandth time, disappointed when there wasn’t so much as a text from Tomas.

She got up from the booth, tossed her trash in the bin and walked out. She took the long way back to the hotel, purposely winding through the streets. Why did she care if Tomas hadn’t texted her? It was her own fault that she had let herself fall for him in the first place. She knew it had been a horrible idea, and yet she had allowed herself to let him gain a place of importance in her life. They’d agreed on no feelings, and yet here she was.

By the time she made it back to her hotel room, Nesta was exhausted. It took her three tries to fit the electronic key in the reader, and she used her full weight to shoulder the obscenely heavy door open.

She didn’t bother with the lights, simply slipping out of her shoes and throwing her jacket in the general direction of the closet. She wanted to sleep; maybe that would reset her mind so she could feel less broken tomorrow.

“Hey-”

“Fuck!” Nesta jumped at the voice, fumbling for the lightswitch, heart in her throat. She squinted when warm light filled the room, shoulders relaxing when she saw who it was. Tomas, standing awkwardly by the desk, roses and a small box in his hands. Despite herself, hope bloomed.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, unmoving.

Setting down the bouquet, Tomas stepped forward to hand her the box. “I came to apologize. I know I missed your birthday and that I’m a shitty person. But if you open that, I think you’ll see…”

He trailed off, nodding to the present she now held. She opened the hinged black velvet, revealing a small diamond necklace. It was delicate, nothing flashy, but enough to make a statement. Nesta glanced up at him, heart warring with her head.

“Do you think showering me with pretty things will make me take you back, after what you said?”

“I think it’ll help, when paired with the fact that I-” He swallowed, trying and failing to hide his grimace. “I love you.”

Any and all sane thoughts left her head upon hearing those three precious words. Gods, she had dreamed of this moment for months. He’d only waited to tell her because it was clearly hard for him to say. But now that he’d admitted it, she could teach him how to love.

Nesta laughed, throwing her arms around his neck. “I love you too, Tomas. I always have.”

His hands rest on her back, not returning her fervor but she didn’t care. “Now will you take me back?”

The short answer was yes, absolutely. There was nothing she wanted more in the world than to wrap herself up in him and get lost. But her head knew that she needed to lay out a defense.

“Only if you promise we can make this real. If we can be together. Which means no more stunts for the cameras. I can’t keep writing about it like it’s nothing.”

Tomas tensed against her. “Fine. I can do that.”

The weight on Nesta’s chest eased. She let him lay her back on the bed, ripping at his clothes. She only let him pull away long enough for him to whisper, “I can’t stay the night.”

@aphoeni @planet-faerie @nina-zcnik @darlinminds @linsimin @that-little-red-head @teagoddess99 @enpointe10 @electronicstrawberrystrawberry @awesomelena555 @iptneus @weesablackbeak @wonderland–memories @nessian-trash-heap @magicalwaterfall @perfectlyimpxrfect @cassians-wings @valkyrie-archeron @acourtofcouture @nesemryn @chloepereyra @toastedroastedburnt @swankii-art-teacher @illyrianshadowhunter @bakingandbooks3 @maastrash @candid-confetti @flamingveritas @silentquartz @suckmykawaiidesu @18moneytoad @frosted-crackers @maybekindasortaace @lysandra-tiara9 @rowaelinismyotp @jlinez

#lom #my writing #nesta archeron #cassian #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of war and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #nessian #nessian fanfiction

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masterwords · 3 years ago

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Hey! I know I have send a lot of asks by now, and I'm sorry, but I just really enjoy you're writing. If you ever feel like you are not in the mood to write a certain thing I wouldn't mind at all.

Anyway, I just reread "Fall On Me" for like the fifth time and I just would love more of someone stepping in to help Hotch when he's having a bad day. Because sometimes out of nowhere for no reason at all everything that ever happened to you just comes crushing down on you and you just need a little help. Pairings (romantic or friendship) and setting are entirely up to you- I'm open for anything.

I would however not mind if you included Jack a bit (you obviously fon't have to). I personally come from a household of depression, so I know how it affects a child, especially if they don't really undertand it yet and I firmly belive that it's possible (or even likely) Hotch suffers from (high functioning) depression.

Hope you have an amazing day!

~🍉

Hi 🍉 anon! First of all, thank you so much! I hope things are going great for you! I could never get tired of asks, really. I may not get to them quickly (mostly because I have to wait until the inspiration hits and then I get very carried away with them) but I LOVE to get them so much. Please never feel bad sending me ideas you have, I love to hear them and I love to write them! <3 I agree very much, I think it's very likely that Hotch suffers from depression - both situational and chronic. I had an idea for a story, and began writing it but it got a little off topic - I will continue the story and post it soon because I'm really liking it, but in the meantime, I found another way to honor this ask that fit better and I really hope you like it! I was watching 03x09 - Penelope and this struck me as a perfect opportunity. It is Hotch + Morgan, but only platonic in their own unique way. Honestly based this entire story on Rossi telling Hotch he looks like crap and Hotch saying he felt like crap. Felt right.

Warnings: faith, blood, divorce, depression

Words: 2375

“How's your faith?” Rossi asked, peering up at Morgan with a strange look on his face. It was part superiority, part genuine concern. He'd crossed some lines over the course of this case, played bad cop more often than he cared to in order to crack it and was feeling some guilt. His relationship with Morgan was already rocky, he hadn't earned the other man's trust but he was doing what he could in the way he thought was best – brutal honesty. Morgan wouldn't tolerate lies, that much was certain. It was clear from the start. He'd get further by pissing him off with the ugly truth than placating him with pretty lies. He watched the way Morgan absorbed the question and glanced immediately at Hotch, didn't even consider where his eyes would go. Hotch wasn't looking at him though, he was lost in the distance, in a faraway thought that read as purely sad on his features. He looked tired, ready to collapse right there in the middle of the BAU. For a split second, while Morgan regarded Hotch, he thought he saw something. A flash, something that coursed like electricity through Morgan and then it was gone. A skilled profiler didn't miss little things like that, but it didn't mean he knew how to interpret every single one. He puzzled over it while Morgan chose his words.

“Day to day...” he replied, letting his eyes drag from Hotch to Rossi to the floor before leaving. It took a moment of contemplation, but soon after Rossi pulled himself to standing, clasped Hotch on the shoulder and silently took his leave. There Hotch stood alone with his memories, with the weight of the last week, the bullet that tore through Penelope Garcia and threatened to rip apart his entire team and he knew he had to wait. This was his floor, the Captain had to go down with his ship and that meant that tonight, there was no rest for the weary. He would answer questions, fill out reports, justify JJ's shot and submit a request for a new door. One by one people left, jobs done, until Hotch was alone with his pounding headache and the deafening roar of his failures. They should have been able to apprehend Colby without loss of life, they should have been able to do a lot of things differently.

His car keys burned in his palm, the shiny new silver key staring up at him. Taunting him. He'd signed the lease a week ago, spent every day during any break he got slowly throwing boxes Haley had packed for him into his SUV and carting them into the new apartment. Nothing was final, they were separated he kept telling himself. Things could change, it was all he had and deep inside he knew it was only a matter of time. Penelope had been shot, the team was rallying around her and trying to solve a case they weren't supposed to be a part of, they had IA in their faces and during the only hours he had to himself, no matter what time of day, he was hauling his life from the home he wanted to the one he despised. He would show up and, if it was a decent hour, Haley would smile, hand him a mug of tea and visit with him on the porch while Jack hugged his legs. She would ask about Penelope, genuinely concerned, tell him to keep her in the loop because Penelope was family, they all were. And then he would throw his boxes into the vehicle and leave them behind. Hope dashed, time and again. Each time he thought maybe she would ask him in if he just gave her enough. If it was too late or too early, he would find the boxes stacked in the garage with a little note. Maybe he could have gone inside but it wasn't his home anymore, he had a new key on his key ring.

He needed to use the doorbell now.

It was late when he made his stop by Haley's and grabbed the few boxes that were outside, stacked neatly with a note letting him know she was thinking about Penelope, she'd seen the news coverage of what happened. He hefted the boxes into his car and drove away into the night, wondering whether he wanted to deal with them or just find a hotel to sleep at.

He chose the apartment, and with an arm full of boxes he approached his door, keys at the ready. On the stoop, waiting expectantly, was Morgan. Hotch stopped and blinked, wondering if he could trust his tired eyes, he hadn't told anyone where he lived.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, and Morgan groaned, extending his hand and letting Hotch pull him to his feet while balancing his box precariously beneath the other arm. He had a pretty good guess as to how Morgan got his new address, but it didn't matter. It really didn't, he was private but he wasn't trying to go out of his way to hide things. He just didn't advertise his private life, there was a distinct difference in his book. He watched as Morgan crouched and picked up a bag of Chinese takeout and a six pack of beer, followed it up with an almost childish look of expectation. There was an immediate rush of irritation, all Hotch wanted to do was sleep, not entertain a visitor.

“I thought you looked like you could use some company,” he said softly. He hesitated, thought about leaving it there, making it about Hotch, but it was more than that and he owed Hotch the truth. “And I could use the same. If you don't mind. It's been a rough week.”

“Figured my face would be the last one you'd want to see for a while...”

“Yeah, well, you're not wrong. But here's the thing...I don't have to make those decisions and I'm glad. IA comes down on us, you put yourself right there in front and take the heat. You had to look Garcia in the eye while she was in a hospital bed and reprimand her, put her on suspension...I know that was hard on you, I know you hated every second of that...I'm not stupid. I was mad, of course, but you put your entire career on the line because of your faith in her...Hotch, come on. I mean if you want me to take my dinner and go...”

Hotch fumbled with the key, turned it over in his hand. His head was throbbing, all he wanted was to throw his box inside and find a hotel. Somewhere to hide, no strings attached. He could handle a lot, he could deflect most of the ugly things that happened but a case that involved his colleagues, someone like Penelope, his shields were down. There were tears burning hot behind his eyes and something about Morgan's warmth was frustrating and appealing.

“I assumed you'd be with Garcia tonight,” he whispered, and Morgan moved closer, pulled Hotch's eyes to him, refused to release him from the moment.

“Well, Prentiss and JJ insisted they have a girl's night and I didn't make the invite list...”

He paused, cracked a smile and expected Hotch to mimic it but it didn't happen. He'd never seen Hotch look so defeated.

“Hotch? Look man, if you don't want me here, I can head home...”

“No,” Hotch sighed, unlocking his door. He wasn't ready to let anyone into his apartment, to see how he'd been living but his desperation for Morgan's company outweighed his need for privacy. He pushed the door open, hung his head in shame as he hefted the box up against the wall. Waiting for Morgan to say something, comment on the unpacked boxes or the lack of furniture, the way a pile of boxes was where he threw his jacket or set his briefcase on the kitchen counter. “I'm sorry I don't have much...”

Morgan stood there for a minute, refused to back down or run away from how raw Hotch was. He could count on one hand how many times over the years he'd had to be gentle with Hotch, and standing there, eyes darting around the room, he knew this to be one of those times. Something had drawn him here, he could have gone home, could have gone anywhere but just like he'd prayed for the first time in 20 years as Penelope was clinging desperately to life on the operating table, something inexplicably out of his control had pulled him here to this moment. Good or bad, he was in it now.

“You got a floor, and some boxes, that's a good enough table for me.”

Seated cross-legged on the floor, they spread their food over the top of a couple of boxes, ate with disposable chopsticks and argued over the validity of water chestnuts as a food item, whether egg rolls should be dipped in hot mustard or sweet and sour sauce. The smiles were genuine if not a little ragged, both of them exhausted and just clinging to the release of a case being done, the danger abated for the time being. A few days off, some rest. Morgan wanted to ask Hotch when he moved, but seeing him with the box in his arms that night he knew the answer already – somehow, during any spare moment, he was picking up the pieces of his broken life. Taking Morgan's phone calls and saying goodbye to his son in the same breath. Promising he'd be back to each of them, pulled in both directions over and over again until he was threadbare, ready to snap.

His phone buzzed on the floor beside him and he excused himself, it was Haley. Morgan could tell, his mood seemed to sour immediately, he couldn't hear what she was saying but he could hear the tone of her voice. Instinctively he looked down, poked at his food until he was full and began nosing around inside of one of the boxes they'd eaten on labeled KITCHEN. Easy things to find places for, plates and silverware, a few coffee mugs wrapped in tissue paper. He could hear Hotch's voice soften, knew Jack was on the phone now and he'd be on his own for a bit so he tossed their empty boxes into the trash, threw the rest into the empty fridge and stood to stretch himself out. When Hotch's bedroom door shut, he thought about leaving, but something pulled at him, made him stick around so to keep his hands busy (and because he knew Hotch would hate it) he began unpacking the KITCHEN box. First he set out the coffee pot and the tea kettle, and then he went about choosing cupboards and drawers, overstepping about a million and half boundaries in one fell swoop. Thought he was hilarious more than once at the items he chose to put in certain places, hoping to get a smile or a rise out of the other man. He realized as he was unpacking that Hotch had probably not even slept there yet, that he'd more than likely been moving himself in while living out of a hotel room and a suit case, showing up to work like everything was perfectly normal. To his knowledge, no one but him knew about Haley though Penelope had asked him if he knew why Hotch submitted a change of address. He skirted the issue, said he had no idea and felt terrible about lying but it isn't his secret to divulge. He would rather ask Penelope for forgiveness later than betray Hotch now.

By the time Hotch reappeared in the front room Morgan had unpacked nearly the entire kitchen using his nervous energy as fuel. Morgan didn't say a word, could see that he'd been crying and was doing his best to keep it under wraps. His instinct was to ask questions, to pull at the truth until it was a gaping wound but that wasn't what Hotch needed. He'd been bleeding out all week right under their noses, he needed it closed up, he needed a break.

“So, you got a bed or you sleepin' on the floor?” he asked and Hotch shrugged. Not sure what to think of that, Morgan slipped around him and peeked into the bedroom, saw a a bed neatly made, crisp military corners, entirely surrounded by walls of boxes. His suspicions were validated.

“Don't profile me,” Hotch warned and Morgan raised his hands in surrender.

“Wouldn't dream of it.” He already had, they both knew it.

They fell silent for a minute, and Morgan just threw caution to the wind. Why the hell not? He plopped down on the bed, back against the headboard like he owned the place. At this point he felt like he had done more living there than Hotch anyway. Hotch had no idea what was going on, but he followed suit, felt the pull of the bed calling to him. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in longer than he could remember and it was making him feel sick, headache still raging unchecked. Kicking his shoes off he made his choice, he was at home, in his bedroom, may as well follow Morgan's lead. He slid himself onto the bed. It didn't feel strange or invasive that Morgan sat there, how many sleepless hotel nights had they spent watching stupid old movies or infomercials or playing a game of cards? Looking at strange brochures for the towns they traveled to gathered from hotel lobbies. Morgan flipped his phone open, dialed Garcia, and put her on speaker so Hotch could hear her too. He didn't say where he was, never said that he was with Hotch, and they both just listened to the girls laughing, Penelope assuring Morgan (and everyone else) that she was fine, she was great. Prentiss and JJ had been drinking, they could hear it. Hotch stayed silent, settled himself deeper into the pillows and listened to Morgan talk with them, ask them about their night, roll his eyes at their ridiculous comments about Kevin Lynch. By the time Morgan ended the call, Hotch was asleep beside him. He was sure it was the first time Hotch had fallen asleep in that bed, and he poked around until he found a box of throw blankets, not wanting to disturb the other man while he sank deeper into a well-deserved sleep. It was late and Morgan was exhausted, just wanted to crawl into his own bed and sleep so he spread the blankets over Hotch as gently as he could, turned down the lights and let himself out.

How's your faith? Rossi had asked him. Thinking about Hotch, Penelope, Colby he sighed.

Day to day.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #david rossi #sad hotch #protective morgan #it's hotchgan but it's not #mortch but not quite #depression #divorce

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thattimdrakeguy · 3 years ago

Note

Favorite tim writers

Sorry for taking so long to answer this one. I'm still moving boxes, and I had to get a shower cause I got all sweaty and such. Gross I know.

But hmmmm. I been trying to think about it along the way.

1) Marv Wolfman.

He created Tim. No other contenders for me. While he may not have wrote him a lot, he wrote enough to make the base for all depictions of Tim at least should be based on.

2) Adam Beechon.

Why you may ask, because I think he understood the character at Tim, and used the personal trauma that Tim had amassed at the time in a way that stayed true to Tim's character. Showing that Tim can evolve, while not losing who he is for simple melodrama. And plus, he's this high, mainly cause while I like most of Dixon's writing till later on in his run, he's a prick.

The only thing off the top of my head is that Adam Beechon made Tim just a bit too cool. Because while he isn't the biggest geek ever compared to his friends who are obsessively geeky. Tim is still a big geek. That often felt a bit forgotten to make him more of a popular kid. Tim has his cool moments that get recognized, I think mainly his confidence in certain situations. But Tim needs to feel at least like a notable bit of a geek.

He didn’t write for my favorite era. But, I admire he kept Tim consistent while others destroyed him for the drama. Plus he had a longer chance to write him compared to others who either had him for a few small issues, not under his solo, or in Dixon’s case--wasn’t an asshole.

Beechon still can’t write Cass Cain, though.

3) Meghan Fitzmartin.

She's mostly got a very solid understanding of Tim, if not his relationship with some of the others. Typically one that's honestly not paid attention too for so long, it's just made to be generic, pretty, and bland.

There's a few flaws in the way she writes Tim, that, while small, are just not enough to make her go higher. Plus, you know. Revealed Tim's gay. Which is pretty nice.

Like this could just be me needing to reread, but I felt she made Tim take himself way too seriously. Tim never took himself too seriously. He took the job and being Robin seriously, but not himself. So sometimes when the story was focused on purely Timmy, he felt just a bit off.

4) Alan Grant

Though never a writer of Tim's solo, as far as I am aware. He wrote some of his earliest stories, and among them at least a hand full of his most important stories. I also think that he understood Tim's more childish side compared to Dixon, who I saw gave Tim a line about insurance deficits or something--like a 14-year-old boy would even care to do that, let alone reference it.

I think his biggest flaw if I remember right, was just that Tim's dialogue could be worded like he was tryna think of how a 90s kid would talk. Which dates it a bit. But mostly he was just fine and it fit in with how Tim was established to speak in his origin. A little kid doing his best to sound smart, with enough innocence, and naiveté, and with a genuine kid voice in there that makes it all work within what his origin establishes about him.

How well Alan Grant always achieved that--eh, but, still. I remember him being quite good. And I think he deserves more credit than he's given since he helped establish Tim, alongside Marv Wolfman, and Dixon.

5) Chuck Dixon.

While stated before he's not a morally great person. Who's bigoted opinions are shown well through his own contradictions made in his attempts to defend himself. He still wrote a very good Tim, and Tim's best stories. His biggest flaws to me, where sometimes feeling like he forgot what a kid was like within Tim's dialogue. It would sometimes be very good, which, that's part of writing a very good Tim. But every now and again Tim--didn't really feel like himself, and talked more like I imagine Dixon would speak. Going from a joke Tim would make that references TMNT to a joke only a curmudgeonly 30-year-old man would make, is very distracting.

And every now and again would portray Tim as a bit too mature, or--something along those lines if not the exact word to use. Tim was a light hearted kid that used his brightness to make Bruce hopefully remember his own light side. Dixon at times would struggle at this and write Tim more like how Dick would get at, at Bruce, and not Tim himself. Or just overall have Tim say something that, I really don't think the same kid from Lonely Place of Dying would be saying. He also made Tim proper mean in the few things of Young Justice he wrote. Clearly not understanding the Young Justice dynamic. Like Dixon couldn't help but leak out his own cynicism on a character literally created to be idealistic and a bit of an optimist.

He's a writer that could easily be one of Tim's best writers, which he showed with series like Tim's first Robin mini. Where, while Tim was portrayed as a bit more mature than in Lonely Place of Dying. Made more sense as his "mommy" had just died and he was trying to prove he's not just a kid. While also writing him to show just how much of a kid he really was deep down with his obliviousness and naiveté.

That still persisted in the solo, but there's just some moments where it's like. "He does remember what Tim's like right? And what a kid is like?" Which would created inconsistency among the Batman or Detective Comics writer that still had Tim just a bit more closer to his lighthearted naïve, but ready to prove himself roots.

Not to say this makes Tim's solo bad, but the more I've read it the more I noticed odd moments, I think towards the middle, and some even more towards the end where it could get very noticeable. Tim by the end of his run didn't always feel like Tim, and when he did, more often than not a very bland two dimensional version. Though there’s a few moments like that even in the beginning.

If I can think of anymore I'll add them, but as it is now, that's the best I can think of, and tried to give my reasons as to why on their positioning.

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rainbowbutterfrosting · 3 years ago

Text

The Revived - Chapter 20: Some Light Reading

This is chapter 20 of the Dream SMP multichapter fic @dramaticsnakes and I wrote together! I hope you’ll enjoy!

AO3

Read in order (on Tumblr)

Characters in this chapter: Wilbur, Ghostbur

Word count: 4,137

Cw: A lot of pain, inflicting pain, tensions between characters, food/eating

Fic summary: Wilbur was alive, and it was such a magnificent feeling, that made his mind spark with anticipation. It didn’t take long, however, for Wilbur to realize that this new breath of life, was not just his own. An echo-y voice hides in the back of his mind, and before he knows it, the transparent version of him he saw at the endless train station, is a lot more ingrained than he’d expected him to be.

And Wilbur really shouldn’t care. Because he’d be damned, if he spent the life he’d awaited for so long, babysitting a lost cause of a ghost, stuck in the very same limbo Wilbur spent so long in. It was an even exchange, and one Wilbur wasn’t going to mess with. Why exactly he ends up setting out to get the ghost out of his mind, in order to save the both of them, however, is beyond him. And perhaps Wilbur’s past isn’t as easy to leave behind, as he’d hoped it would be.

It was not an entirely pleasant experience to wake up, lying on the floor with his leg in a strange elevated position. In fact, he wouldn’t have been entirely convinced he’d woken up at all, if it wasn’t for the wave of pain bursting through his head. It was pounding, and his vision was blurry enough for him to almost believe he was sitting on a chair, blindfolded again.

There was no one around to punch him though. Just a huge empty bunker, and a smell of scattered paper. He didn’t have the slightest clue what time it was, or for how long he’d slept. As he squinted at his surroundings, there wasn’t the slightest hint of natural light. Just the torches above him.

There was silence.

“Ghostbur?” he said, his voice hushed.

“Oh! You’re awake! Good morning.” The ghost’s words were quick, though tinted with relief. There was something exhausted about them too, however. Wilbur got up from the floor, crawling back to the chair. He sat down on it, getting a better view of the room. “How are you feeling?”

Wilbur cracked his neck, stretching his arms. “Wonderful,” he said.

“Actually?”

Wilbur tensed up, closing his eyes momentarily. He took a deep breath. “No. Not really.”

There was a sigh from Ghostbur, but it wasn’t one of annoyance. It was rather melancholic. Relieved, perhaps. “Yeah… Me neither.”

While the words weren’t exactly good news, Wilbur’s lips curved up just slightly. Perhaps it was just the honesty. There was something silent and intimate about the words, breaking through the silence. The mutual pain. Not that that was too comforting in the long run. “Shit, my head hurts,” he noted, not necessarily to anyone but the empty room, placing a hand on his forehead.

“Mhm...” Ghostbur said, and everything indicated he was feeling it too.

They sat there in a less uncomfortable silence, Wilbur’s limbs heavy, as he looked at his bandaged leg. The regeneration potion had helped quite a bit, he realized as he tried to move it, but he still doubted he’d be able to stand on it confidently. He noticed some dryness leftover from a few tears right underneath his eye. He froze. “Ghostbur?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you… If I cry, do you feel it?” It was a risky and perhaps vulnerable question. The mention of the tears only seemed to make his head pound more. For a moment he was almost thankful everything was far too blurry for him to think properly.

“I don’t know.” Ghostbur said, with far more nonchalance than what was probably deserved, “My face often burns anyway.” He paused, as if he only just then realized what he was saying, “I mean, that’s okay though! It doesn’t feel so bad when it’s on the face anymore.”

The words sent an unwelcome shiver down Wilbur’s spine. He went quiet for a few breaths, unsure what to say. I’m sorry, he felt he should say, but it didn’t taste familiar enough. I can help you, he considered, but he realized it was yet another empty promise. Thank you, he wanted to say, but it was far too vague, and far too broad, and he wasn’t thanking Ghostbur for feeling pain. None of it sat right with him. He shook his head. “Is there anything you wanna do?” he asked instead.

Ghostbur let out a breath. “What can we do?”

And wasn’t that an excellent question? Wilbur closed his eyes.

“Should we… Should we find someone?” Ghostbur asked.

Wilbur looked at his leg. He looked to the books, filled to the brim with information. He looked at the food readily available to him. He bit his lip. “I… I don’t think it’d be safe while my leg is still healing.”

“Oh, right, right,” Ghostbur said, sounding mildly disappointed, but it wasn’t too noticeable.

“There are some books we could read,” Wilbur tried, feeling as if it was a bit of a weak offer.

“I like books,” Ghostbur said, and Wilbur wasn’t sure if it was entirely sincere or not. Then, the tone turned softer. As if a pleasant memory passed by. “I used to write books.”

“Really?” Wilbur asked, tilting his head.

“I had a library! I wrote things down, and I read all the history books I could find. Tried to organize it all,” Ghostbur explained, sounding a little more excited at each word.

As Ghostbur spoke about it, Wilbur found some faint memories in the back of his mind. Organizing books, and writing down new information. Searching for something. “Did you like history?” Wilbur asked, and for an absurd moment he felt like an actor, asking someone if they enjoyed their latest movie. He huffed at the thought.

“I did. I tried to figure out what you did when you were alive. Everyone looked at me in different ways, and I-” he trailed off for a moment, “I don’t know, but I did enjoy reading.”

“I wonder if there is anything you wrote in here,” Wilbur mused, trying to ignore his own curiosity.

“I don’t think so. Most of them were destroyed when-” He abruptly stopped talking, the last syllable sounding strained.

“When what?”

“My head hurts,” Ghostbur simply replied.

Wilbur slowly nodded, not quite sure what to make of the lack of an answer. “So… To pass the time, how about we read some books here? We can find some information about the revival too, and try to figure out how to get you- how to free you, in the process,” he looked at a different spot in the air, realizing there was nowhere to make eye contact with the ghost. “How does that sound?”

“Okay!” Ghostbur said, “That sounds good.”

He could finally get started on the work. It was something Wilbur was itching to do. He was itching to occupy his hands and his mind with something. His mind was still simultaneously going at thousands of miles a second, and carrying thousands of pounds with each thought. He needed something tangible. Something he could keep in his grasp.

At first, he grabbed the nearest book on the shelf. Quite a big one titled “Governments and Communities of History”. He almost dropped it as he held it in one hand, but he shakily moved it over to the table.

“Governments and Communities of History,” he told Ghostbur. He flipped inside and into the table of contents. He skimmed most of it. It started with the beginning of everything and continued to list political parties that he vaguely recognized. He flipped towards the end, hoping to find the knowledge he missed over the months he was gone. His eyes lingered onto “Eggpire” as he flipped to the corresponding page.

He cleared his throat, “Ready, Ghostie?”

“Yep!”

“This section is about the Eggpire. ‘The Eggpire is an alliance between BadBoyHalo, Antfrost, Punz, Ponk, Hannahxxrose, and Skeppy.’ Huh, I don’t really know most of them. ‘The alliance was formed on January 14, 2021 between the founders, Bad, Ant, Punz and CaptainPuffy. However Puffy is the only founder to leave. She joined Anti-Eggpire (also known as Pro-Omelette) due to a disagreement in views.’” Wilbur chuckled as his head throbbed in response, “The second name is way better.”

Ghostbur made a sound of agreement. Just as Wilbur was about to read again, he had a realization, “I think this is the same Puffy from the flower shop, but I’m not sure.”

“I think so.” Ghostbur paused. “I mean, I can’t imagine a lot of people are named Puffy.”

Wilbur nodded, “Good point.” He took a breath before continuing, “The keystone of the alliance is the crimson red egg located in Badboyhalo’s statue room. The Egg is meant to be a source of chaos and a way to subdue the rest of the server. Despite the Eggpire being formed as a military coalition by Bad with Ant, Puffy, and Punz, most members of the Eggpire have joined due to being corrupted by the Egg.”

Wilbur cringed, “Are they that bad at commanding that they couldn’t genuinely recruit people? Wait- where did the egg even come from?”

“I don’t know. Maybe there was a big red chicken that laid the red egg?”

Wilbur exhaled out of his nose to resemble a laugh, “These guys are fucking losers, who else tried to resemble me while I was gone?”

He flipped to the beginning of the book as Ghostbur chided him, “Language.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, but his headache seemed to worsen from the action, “Pardon my French, I speak it like a bitch.” Wilbur smirked to himself as he heard Ghostbur’s upset noises.

His eyes glossed the table of contents, as he barely focused on the words. He exhaled sharply as his mind settled on L’Sandberg? No- that couldn’t be right. It was L’Manberg and it was long gone.

He flipped to the page to verify it, before seeing the text that he mumbled out loud, “L'Sandberg (formerly L'Puffyberg and L'Puffberg) is a nation created by BadBoyHalo weeks after the end of the Eggpire.” It oddly reminded him of himself. Starting L’Manberg then creating Pogtopia because it was taken away. L’Sandberg was even named in an odd reference to L’Manberg, perhaps he would have to check the place out.

He was about to read the next part as he reread the previous lines. A strange familiarity ran through his mind. “I’ve heard of this Badboyhalo guy, but there’s no way he’s the same dude that would create a nation along with a cult-y alliance.” The only person he could picture as he read the name was a demon that dressed in red and black. He saw him bumbling around the streets with a blue man with shining skin.

While they’d had small conversations before, he wasn’t even a hundred percent sure about his name. Part of him wanted to call him SaintsofGames, which he assumed might’ve been his actual name, or perhaps an older title.

He tried to imagine the friendly demon who cooked muffins on Saturdays being a general, but all he got out of return was the throb in his head to increase. “Have you ever heard of Badboyhalo?”

Ghostbur thought for a moment, “Yeah, I think Tommy mentioned him once? I don’t really remember all the details though.”

Wilbur hummed, “He seems neat.”

“Wilby?”

Wilbur looked up from the book and into thin air, “Yeah?”

Ghostbur whined out, “My head hurts.”

Wilbur nodded, but winced as it somehow worsened the headache. “Mine as well.”

“Do we got any… I don’t know what it’s called but it’s sweet drink.”

At Ghostbur’s words, Wilbur’s stomach growled. “I don’t know, but I’m gonna see if I can find something to eat.” Wilbur faintly chuckled, “That’s probably why I’ve got this killer headache.”

Ghostbur made a small hum of agreement as Wilbur awkwardly realized that he would have to walk to get food. He moved from the chair, hissing in pain as positioned himself to stand on his uninjured leg. He slightly toppled from the unbalance, but didn’t have too many problems staying steady.

“Alright, I’m gonna warn you now that it might hurt.”

Ghostbur’s voice was laced with panic, “Wait, what are you doing now?”

“Don’t worry too much. I’m just walking around in the bunker,” Wilbur reassured. “My leg still hurts so I might fall or something.”

Ghostbur sounded displeased, “Okay, just make sure to be careful.”

“I will.” His eyes searched the room for possible food. He smiled as he remembered the carrots and melons growing downstairs. That smile quickly faded when he thought about the idea of stairs.

He hopped over to the general direction of the stairs, occasionally stopping to maintain his balance once again. At the final step he nearly stumbled, but caught himself just in time by grasping at the nearest wall. He was reminded of the exhaustion that followed his trip to Phil’s house when he’d just returned. It seemed like ages ago by now. He tried not to let the thought linger.

His leg ached slightly as he limped along to the crops. He licked his lips, as he looked at the melons that only served to remind him of his hunger much more. It occurred to him that it had been a while since he last ate. In fact, he had no clue exactly how long it had been at this point, the amount of sleep he’d gotten remaining a mystery to him. Instead of dwelling on that, he reached down at a melon, carving it into several pieces. He didn’t do a particularly great job at it, but it hardly mattered.

He saw himself down on the nearest chair, eating each piece at an impressive pace. The sweet taste seemed to get to his entire body, working almost as many wonders as a potion would.

For a strange moment, Wilbur wondered if the water in the watermelon would cause any harm to the ghost. He couldn’t hear any screams nor pleas, which was fortunate. Being able to consume anything at all was most certainly a plus. To be fair, if the water there was enough, saliva likely would too, and that was a can of worms that Wilbur didn’t have the brain power to consider even the hypothetical of.

Once Wilbur had devoured the entire melon, he felt just a little more at ease. He felt less dizzy, and his body and mind seemed more connected than before.

While the throbbing in his head had ended, he noticed the pain in his leg. He closed his eyes for a small moment as he tried to think of a solution. He did all the medical treatment he really could at this stage. He fiddled with the rind of one of the melons before he realized he could make a potion of instant health.

Attempting to start a drug empire turned out to be helpful after all.

He ran through the materials he needed in his head. Netherwart, blaze power, and a glistening melon. He stood up but his vision swarmed with black spots for a few moments. His stable leg shook as he leaned against the wall. It stopped seconds later, but he was filled with exhaustion that told him to forget about the potion.

Yet, he hopped to a chest near the farm. It wasn’t far away, but the action by itself seemed laborious. He shuffled through it, but found nothing of use. He hopped over to the stairs, quickly grabbing two nether warts from the farm before he started going up.

It was a long process, but he eventually made it up the stairs. He took a shaky breath as Ghostbur chimed in, “We’re still in the bunker right?”

Wilbur nodded, “Yeah, back up the stairs.”

“So are we doing more reading?” A slight boredom filled Ghostbur’s voice, but Wilbur couldn’t tell if it just arrived or if it had been there for the whole day.

Wilbur hopped to Tubbo’s chest before leaning against the wall once more. “Makin’ potions.”

Ghostbur softly gasped, “Oh, I’ve never done that before! I saw Phil and Techie doing it once though.”

“Sounds neat,” Wilbur responded, half-paying attention while looking through the chest. He pushed around some of the items in there before finding three blaze rods with a few stacks of cobblestone shuffled around. He spotted the crafting table next to the chest and he quickly melded the items together into a brewing stand. He held the brewing stand normally as he put the spare blaze rods in his coat pocket.

He closed the chest and opened the one next to it. Twenty iron ore, random concrete blocks, and miscellaneous mob drops. He was about to close it when he saw a yellow shine under some rotten flesh. Wilbur let out an exhale of relief, “We’ve got all the stuff we need.”

Ghostbur excitedly clapped, “How do you make potions?”

Wilbur put the brewing stand down on the crafting table. “Well, you start with oh fu- n! Fun, fun, yes.” He didn’t know why he censored the swear in front of Ghostbur, but it somehow felt better than letting out a curse. “I forgot the glass bottles.”

“That doesn’t sound very fun.”

Wilbur let out a dry chuckle, “You’re right.” Wilbur thought for a moment, “There might be some in the chest next to that cauldron.” His eyes ran over the cauldron that he didn’t even know was filled or not. He pursed his lips. His uninjured leg was shaking slightly, but he didn’t exactly have another option. Well- he could always suffer. Yet that would mean the suffering of Ghostbur as well.

He didn’t exactly care about the ghost, but he generally preferred not hearing his pleas. He quickly hopped over to the cauldron, only to collapse at the wall behind it. He closed his eyes tightly, wishing to any possible deity out there that there was water in the iron container.

He swung his hand inside the cauldron, not daring to look inside, as if the water would disappear if he did. He felt water about half-way into the swing as he smiled. However, the instant he did that, he heard a cry of agony in his mind that instantly made him open his eyes and recoil, immediately taking his hand out of the water. “Ghostbur what’s-” Ghostbur’s previous words ran through his mind quicker than he could even process them.

It- Water burns me. I’m sorry I just didn’t expect it.

As regret plagued his mind, Ghostbur’s whimpers followed alongside them. The whimpers that reminded him of his agreement with the ghost.

W-warn me next time?

Sure.

Although he hadn’t intended to hurt Ghostbur, guilt overtook him. “Ghostbur, I-” forgot about the really important thing that hurts you if I forget! I just don’t care about you at all!

The familiar cynicism made him externally cringe. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I- I know. It- it hurts, Wil.”

Wilbur somberly nodded, “I know, I can’t do anything about it right now.” Wilbur hated how pathetic his words sounded.

Ghostbur’s typical pleas filled his mind before the pattern was interrupted, “C- could you dry it off?” It took a second for Wilbur to realize what the ghost was saying with the sobs intertwined in the shaky words. But as soon as he deciphered it, he immediately took his hand to his pants, rubbing it to make sure most of the water was off.

It didn’t take long for all of the water to be gone as he hesitantly spoke, “How does it feel now?”

“Better than before.”

Wilbur weakly pulled his body up against the wall. He opened the chest next to him to find it was full of glass bottles. He grabbed three of them out as he closed the chest and put the brewing stand on top. He tried to fill the bottles up in the cauldron, but found that his usual method involved dunking his whole hand into the water.

He attempted to just tip the bottle so more water would enter, but upon pulling the glass bottle back up, he sighed. He knew from his early days that you needed a certain amount of water in order for the potion to properly work. Too much water made the solution diluted, causing the effect to be much more muted than it should be. Too little water made your body feel off the rest of the day, assuming the potion even works in the first place.

“Ghostbur?” He felt an odd pressure on his chest as he imagined the ghost’s whispers from before.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve… I’ve gotta dunk my hand in water again.” He could feel the ghost recoil.

“Alright,” Ghostbur took a shaky breath. “Make it quick if you can.”

“I will.” Wilbur exhaled slowly himself. Although it wouldn’t hurt Wilbur, he felt a sense of unease as he quickly dipped his hand in the water. A muffled groan echoed in his mind. He looked towards the other empty bottles in his hand as he slightly frowned.

“Ghostie, I won’t make you do anything, but I’ve gotta ask you something.” Wilbur didn’t wait for a response as he continued, “The pain you felt was from me filling up one bottle. I could just brew with this bottle and drink the potion.” Wilbur momentarily closed his eyes as the words on his tongue tasted bitter to him, “Or I can fill up the other two bottles in case of emergencies. I won’t pressure you for either option but-”

“Wilbur, I know I should choose the extra two bottles.”

Wilbur cringed at the truth. “I mean- you don’t really have to choose that option. We could just start brewing if you’d like.”

Ghostbur sighed, “I can take it.”

Wilbur despised the words, but he responded, “Alright, my hand is going in.” He quickly filled both of the bottles, trying to ignore the muffled scream that ringed in his mind.

He forced himself to block it out as he turned back to the brewing stand, filling it with the three full bottles as Ghostbur’s noises died down. He rubbed his hand on his pants before taking the nether wart he had and putting it in at the top. Only silence greeted his ears as he remembered he needed some blaze powder to power the machine overall.

He crushed the blaze rod with ease, putting it in as the rest of the process seemed automated to him. He barely processed his movements as he soon watched as the mixture turned into a bright red, He took the glass bottle away from the stand, as he swirled the liquid around, watching it carefully. It was almost hypnotic. He held the bottle to his lips and took a deep breath. “I… I’m going to drink a health potion for my leg.” He bit his lip, “It might hurt a bit.”

“Oh.” Ghostbur said, his voice sounded a little quiet, “Okay, I’m ready.”

Wilbur nodded even if the ghost couldn’t see him, and took a large sip from the bottle. He kept drinking, not removing the bottle from his lips. His throat was burning at the sensation. He closed his eyes tightly, feeling the pain spread through his body, as if the headache from before had decided to pound in his leg instead of his head. His blood felt as if it had momentarily been replaced by the burning potion, removing his attention from anything but it. He tried to breathe his way through it, each breath coming through as a quick hiss.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed, before the pain transitioned into a comforting warmth. He opened his eyes again, trying to step down on his leg. The pain had decreased significantly. He let out a relieved breath, and gave an accomplished smile. “It’s much easier to walk now,” he said.

“Is your leg better?” Ghostbur asked hopefully, “Are you going to leave the bunker soon?”

Wilbur frowned. He shook his head. “Not yet,” he said. “The leg could still use some time to heal and…” he looked at the bookshelves above, “There might still be some information we can use here.”

“Right.” Ghostbur said, suddenly sounding determined, “That makes sense.”

Wilbur tried to chuckle, though it came out so silently and breathlessly, that it was hardly a noise at all. He took a step on his much more useful leg, feeling relieved as he could walk more or less without limping. He walked to some chests he hadn’t looked at yet, and rummaged through them. If he was planning on staying in the bunker for longer, it would be optimal to know what supplies he had available to him. He was reminded of his exile, before Pogtopia was built, as he and Tommy assessed their remaining supplies, to figure out what they had to work with. His heart became just a little heavier at the thought, and he decided to put the thought away, for as long as he could.

Among the most noteworthy items he found was a clock at the bottom of one of the chests. It looked old, as if someone had forgotten they’d put it there in the first place. Wilbur picked it up, inspecting each side of it. The hands of the clock moved ahead each second, making a rhythmic little ‘tick’ at each step. The sound was comforting to him somehow, ringing through the silence of the solitary bunker.

It read 5am.

It took Wilbur a few moments to figure out if the clock was functional and accurate, though he eventually concluded that it was highly probable. He wasn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep, nor for how long, but at least this would let him keep track of the now. Slowly, he walked up the stairs again, much more successfully this time.

As he reached the bookshelves, he stopped, staring at the nearest empty wall. There was a faint ticking from the clock in his hands, and he felt as if he was staring into nothingness. Staring at a silent wall. A half-bent nail was firmly placed on it. Gently, Wilbur placed the clock on it, until it was hanging there safely. He sat down on the chair, and allowed his eyes to close, as he centered his mind. He had a goal in mind, and as soon as possible, a plan would be shaped from the muddled thoughts.

It was time to get to work.

#dream smp #dsmp #c!wilbur #ghostbur #ghostbur angst #dream smp fic #c!wilbur soot #the revived #revivebur

10 notes · View notes

jamilelucato · 4 years ago

Text

Muggle [F.W.]

*gif not mine

Pairing: Fred Weasley x muggle!Dursley!reader

Request: (anonymous) Could you do a imagine where the reader is a dursley aka Harry’s cousin. But when Fred and reader meet they don’t know, and they fall in love since she knows about magic. But she’s a muggle of course. So when Fred takes her to meet the family Harry’s so shocked. Maybe they use to love each other and trust each other like siblings but when he discovered he was a wizard they fall apart. Because Harry has other things going on. And maybe after forth year, they completely stoped talking and they both regret it. So when they see each other it hurts both of them, but they end up making up.

Summary: y/N Dursley is tired of being away from Harry because of her parents because he’s a wizard and because he stopped reaching out. She starts going after her cousin herself and she has the help of the Weasleys to do so.

Words: +6,3k

A/N: Had no idea where this was going until I wrote it. Hope you all like it; tried to keep it as coherent to the request as I could. There’s a scene where it was supposed to be Harry and y/N but I thought it would make more sense if it was other character speaking (you know it when you see it).

Harry Potter Masterlist || Musical Hogwarts Series

___

“Wait up, girls. I think I might know these guys,” she says just when her friends’ laughs are dying out.

She takes one last look to her back, hoping nobody will notice she’s checking out the tall and red-haired boys.

“Really? From where?” asks one of the friends in a whisper.

But y/N ignores the question. She takes one last sip from coffee and rush to catch the boys before they leave the place.

“Hey, you two!” she calls out after noticing she’s never going to catch them — one of their steps equals three of hers.

One of them looks at her first, tilting his head confused. The other one finally turns too, but he seems less intrigued than his twin.

“Are you... Weasleys?” she says when she gets close enough to them and whispers the last name as if it could be a curse-word or something. It was definitely prohibited in her household.

The twins exchanged looks, confused. They pretend to not recognize her — because they sure can’t remember from where they know her. She still doesn’t know why she decided to call them out anyway.

“Two of them, yes,” one of the boys answered, taking his time to mess with his red hair. The movement certainly showed some charm. “Why?”

She gulps — she was not expecting to be asked. However, the second twin, silently until now, decides to speak up.

“Aren’t you one of Harry’s cousins?”

She shakes her head yes, pressing her lips together at the same time. Remembering to have good manners, she offers them her hand.

“It’s y/N Dursley, actually.”

“Sure I presumed your name wasn’t ‘Harry’s cousin’,” giggled the twin that shook your hand first. He had a firm grip and a welcomed warm hand. He took his time with her hand, and for a moment she thought he wasn’t going to let it go. “I’m Fred, by the way,” he smiled, finally freeing her hand.

The other twin quickly took your hand in his as soon as you were free.

“I’m George.”

“I remember you two. Left my brother with a big purple tong just a couple of weeks ago,” she commented, trying to diffuse the tension.

They exchanged looks, scared if the right reaction was to apologize or to laugh. It sure was rather fun watching the fatty get what he deserved for years of bad things to Harry.

Y/N noticed her comment had the wrong reaction and tried again. “It’s fine, you can laugh. He sure deserved it.”

The one who presented himself as Fred chuckled, more because of her face than because of her brother. However, the one said to be George remained in silence.

She gulped, noticing the awkward situation.

“Well, I just stopped you two because I wanted to know... about Harry,” she says with an anxious tone. Talking about Harry was always a hard thing — with her parents or with his friends. “I sometimes write him letters, you see — not that he replies — but he never shared your family’s address, and I’ve been... Rambling,” she chuckled, pressing a finger in front of her lips. “Sorry for the non-stop talk. I want to know if Harry’s okay, that’s it.”

George steps towards her but stops when he realized his twin had done the same and was faster to speak up.

“Harry’s perfectly okay,” says Fred with a smile that showed no teeth.

“He’s been well-taken care of,” added George. “Did your parents want to know?”

“Who? Petunia and Vernon?” she asks before burst into laughter. The idea that her parents could be worried about Harry was absurd. “No — it’s me who wanted to know.”

She breaths hard before stepping backwards, away from the boys. She’s starting to feel blue, and she doesn’t want them to see her in that way.

“Well, anyway... thank you, boys, for telling me. I was worried, and then I recognized your red-heads...” her voice died out. She raised her head and stared at the twin said to be Fred. “What were you doing here? Harry said wizards don’t hang in ‘munnel’ places.”

She had a great point.

“It’s ‘muggle’, dear,” George corrected y/N trying to hold his laugh.

“And we generally don’t. We have a friend, you see, muggle-born, that tells us this place has the best coffee in the world,” Fred raises his own cup of coffee to go. “We decided to see if it was true.”

“Don’t tell our parents,” chuckled George.

“Nor our little sister,” added Fred and they both started laughing at their particular joke.

Silence fell upon the three of them again. Y/N looked from George to Fred, taking her time to look at that last one. Somehow, he had captured her attention, and it wasn’t just today. Since the day they came to Harry’s rescue a couple of years ago — of course, she knew about the flying car, her window gave her a great view of the three red-heads inside it —, y/N has been fascinated with the family. She wished she had been born a witch, like Harry. Maybe he would stop avoiding her if they were equals.

She turned her face back to take a look at the coffee shop before facing the twins again.

“Sorry, boys, gotta go. Can’t let my own coffee run cold,” she smiled sympathetically. “Tell Harry to write to me, would you?”

“Sure,” answered Fred promptly.

“Thank you,” she replied and started walking away as slow as she could. That was the closest she had ever been to real wizards besides Harry, and she actually managed to keep a conversation! That was new, because last time those two same boys were in her living room, she blushed, frowned and hid behind a pillow. And that had happened just a couple of weeks ago!

“Hey! Wait!” a male voice shouted from behind her. She was turning while one of the twins was running towards her. She presumed it was Fred, although she couldn’t be sure — they were wearing the same clothes.

“What is it?” she asked, stopping her tracks so she could wait for him to reach her.

“I can give you our address. Would be easier to get a reply from Harry if you were to be the one to contact him,” he suggested, shrugging as if he didn’t care if she took the address or not. “Muggle’s post-men generally pass through our house.”

She shook her head yes non-stop, excited for the niceness of the boy.

“Here, do you have a...” his voice died before finishing the question because he had no idea what the muggles used to write things down. But he got a piece of paper anyway — it was the paper that surrounded his coffee to make it easy to hold.

“A pen?” she completed his phrase, chuckling. Then, getting one pen out of her pocket, she continued, “Always care one with me. Quite useful.”

“Pen,” he whispered, not to her, but to test the word in his accent.

She offered the thing to him. He stared at it as if it was magical.

“Never seen one, have you?” she asked, giggling with joy in her heart, but he was already writing down the address.

Fred tried to give her both the paper and the pen, but the last one she did not accept back.

“Take it; you’ll like it more than I do,” she explained when he looked at her, confused.

“Thank you,” he said, genuinely grateful, but she said nothing, and slowly he walked away, playing with the pen with his fingers. His twin met him half-way, and soon they were gone from her sight.

***

She had written to Harry. Twice, actually, and none of those times she got a reply. The first letter she sent to the address Fred gave her and the second one she sent to his school. It was funny because, although Harry Potter seemed in no mood to talk to her, his owl always showed up from time to time in y/N’s window, as if she waited for her to have something for Harry. And y/N usually had.

She was in the middle of her own classes in the public school, but she wasn’t paying attention to the History class. Frankly, she already knew what the teacher was teaching.

Inside her notebook, laid Fred’s note with his house’s address. She didn’t exactly know why she carried it around. Perhaps it meant she knew the address of a hot boy; perhaps it meant she knew a place only wizards lived. Whatever it was, she couldn’t stop staring at it and rereading it all over again.

It also had a kind of joke written on it. Fred didn’t give his real name to the waitperson, and, at first, she thought he was just scared of his name being too wizard-like. But it really wasn’t. His name was completely okay. Different from the one he actually gave the waitress — that one was a bit stupid.

Behind the address to the Weasleys, a single name was written: Merlin.

It took her a couple of minutes to remember where she knew that name from, and then she felt completely dull for not immediately getting it.

Merlin was King Arthur’s advisor and a powerful wizard, at least, that was the children books told her when younger.

Perhaps Merlin was real to them. Oh my God, Merlin was definitely real to them!

She tried once more to pay attention to the class instead of the note she had memorized, but it was worthless. When the bell announced she was free to go home, she felt some sort of relief. Part of her was thinking of writing a letter to the address she had, only this time it wasn’t going to be to Harry.

But that was stupid, right?

She didn’t have much time to think because as soon as she got home, one letter already waited for her.

“This came for you today,” said her brother in a disgusted tone.

She took the letter from his hands, desperate to see what was it about. Opening it up, she read:

Dear y/N Dursley,

This is Molly Weasley, the mother of Harry’s best friend, Ron. I’m writing to you because I’d figured you would like to come with me to Hogwarts, to watch Harry’s thrid task at the Triwizard Tournament. I’m sure by now you know all about it, but maybe your parents can’t come because of their muggle jobs — I don’t really know how it works — but perhaps you and your younger brother would like to come.

Please, write me back with a reply as soon as possible.

With love,

Molly Weasley.

Y/N couldn’t believe her eyes. She read it at least twice before putting her backpack on the floor. Dudley stared at her suspiciously, he couldn’t understand what the letter was about or who was it from.

When she was sure she understood every word Mrs Weasley wrote, y/N rushed to the kitchen where she knew she’d find at least one of her parents. And there her mother was.

“Harry’s a participant in some Tournament?” she asked loudly.

Her mom looked up from the dough she was preparing, with an uptight look in her face. She didn’t like her kids screaming.

“Huh?!?” y/N threw the letter to her mom as if showing evidence. “And we were invited to watch? Never cared to mention, did you?”

Her mom got the paper and took her time to read it.

“What is this woman insinuating? That you are going with her to that wizarding place?” Petunia asked in a mocking tone before tossing the letter to the trashcan, but not before she tore it in pieces.

“Oh, I’m going!” you shouted. “Harry needs us, needs me.”

Petunia gave her a challenging look. She didn’t know y/N had memorized the Weasley’s address and therefore would not need to get the torn to pieces letter.

Y/N got a paper from her school bag and wrote a reply, saying yes she would go, any day that was. She also mentioned she knew nothing about the Tournament so if Mrs Weasley could explain, she’d like that very much.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Petunia asked from behind her daughter. Dudley watched excitedly.

“Replying,” she simply said. But now that it was written, what would she do? Fred Weasley had mentioned it could take days before a muggle post-man would pass their house...

The answer didn’t need to be given. As if she knew and she waited, Harry’s owl came flying through the kitchen window and stopped right over the table, in front of y/N.

“Take this to the Weasleys, would you?” she said, giving the note to the owl, who didn’t wait for Petunia’s approval to leave the place.

“I can’t believe it! Your father wouldn’t like this, young lady!” her mom frowned.

“It doesn’t really matter to me. Now, how many letters has Hogwarts been delivering here about Harry that you guys haven’t told me about?” she retorted, getting up.

Her mom opened her mouth to speak, but she didn’t let her.

“Don’t say it doesn’t matter! Harry’s your nephew, my cousin! The only one I have!” she exploded, letting the anger domain. “I bet that if those letters invited you to study there, you’d have said yes! I bet you’d have gone!”

She walked away, but her mom fetched her by the arm.

“Young lady!” she shouted angrily, but y/N didn’t care.

“Wouldn’t you, huh? Or would you have gone?” she turned her face to see her mom, but the woman said nothing. She seemed hurt, which meant y/N had won. “Because I know I would. God knows I’d give anything to be out of here!”

And with that, Petunia let her go to her room.

***

Mrs Weasley and a pretty man named Bill Weasley appeared in front of her house in Privet Drive. They had a car with them — a flying one — and it was with that they were taking y/N to Hogwarts.

Y/N had counted hours to that moment. She even accepted Mrs Wealsey hug with a tight embrace, so thrilled she was.

Bill was the one driving while y/N was sitting in the back, but the trip was not awkward at all. Mrs Weasley asked y/N every possible question, and for once, y/N was glad someone could finally see her point of view about Harry and the wizards.

“I love Harry, I do. It’s just, he kinda left me behind with this thing of being a wizard, you know,” she said, hoping Mrs Weasley would understand her.

Bill seemed to get y/N’s point rather quickly, and she was glad for it. The Weasleys seemed so pleasant, all of them. And very handsome too, may she add.

“So, did Harry’s owl have any trouble finding you?” you asked when Mrs Wealsey’s questions seemed to have ended.

The woman exchanged looks with her son before gulping. Only then she answered:

“Well, actually, dear, I think Hedwig committed a mistake, even though that owl is incredibly good...” y/N raised a brow while listening. “You see, she delivered your letter to Fred and George at Hogwarts. They were the ones who sent the letter to me.”

Y/N could feel her facing frowning, the face of shock and confusion. She thought she had been specific to the owl, but I guess saying “the Weasleys” can mean a nine different people and there was no way the animal could know.

Bill, however, misunderstood your face.

“Fred and George are the twins, I don’t know you’ve met them...” he said, but his mom seemed to have a different opinion about the last part — Molly knew y/N remembered her twins, because they told her so, and, frankly, Molly had never seen Fred give a muggle so many compliments.

“Oh, I’ve met them,” y/N sighed, remembering that day so many days ago. She could visualize it as if it was happening right in front of her.

The flying car made a delightful trip. Molly told y/N that they usually never used it, but since they were caring a muggle, that was the only way they could take her to Hogwarts. Mrs Weasley informed that she made her husband upgrade it to make it safer.

“And he wants you to tell your experience with it, as a muggle,” continued the woman. She was nice but being called a muggle so many times was beginning to hurt.

When she finally arrived at Hogwarts, y/N was kind of disappointed. Is this it? An abandoned, ruined castle?

Bill noticed her look. “Don’t let it fool you. The castle is beautiful; it’s just that, from outside, muggles can’t see it,” there it was again, the little word y/N started to hate.

They walked in, and y/N finally saw what he meant. Hogwarts was more than beautiful — it was delightful, enchanted, unique.

That day y/N met so many wizards, she was sure that she would remember it as if the best day of her life. There were wizards from other places in Europe today as well. Some of them were Professors, some of them were parents of the other champions.

Now, she knew everything about the Tournament because Molly Weasley sent her — along with instructions of the day — a copy of a book about the competition and she spent the three whole nights reading it.

She asked if she could keep the book — a memory that wizards existed if Harry decided after today to cut relations with y/N — and Molly said she had bought it just for her.

They waited a bit before Harry finally walked in the room they were at. They were close to the fireplace, and Harry walked towards them. He didn’t seem to have noticed y/n was there too.

“Surprise!” Mrs Weasley smiled broadly and then she kissed him in the cheek.

“You all right?” said Bill, noticing Harry had finally seen his cousin.

Harry Potter stayed silently, and it seemed as if all the other families were watching the two interact. Harry loved her too, but he also knew her. She was always a fantasy lover, she would have loved to be a witch. Harry was just scared his own enthusiasm could hurt y/N.

“You came,” he said, simply.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Harry,” she smiled before ignoring her shame and pulling Harry to a hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t write much this year, I didn’t know about the Tournament,” she whispered in his ear while her tears fell.

Harry was more than a cousin, sometimes more than a brother. Y/N was just a couple of years older, but she saw him as her little boy. She had to raise him anyway because her mom couldn’t care to do it.

“I’m so sorry, y/N,” he whispered back, not letting her go yet. “I shouldn‘t have...”

“Shh..” she interrupted him, finally pushing him a bit away just to see his beautiful eyes. “It’s okay. Nobody wants to be friends with the muggle.”

She shrugged, hoping it would make Harry feel better, but it had the opposite result. She, however, didn’t let him say anything else.

Bill asked Harry questions about the castle — if it was still the same — and Molly joined in, telling her own experiences. Y/N had none, so she stayed in silence, hearing.

“Fancy giving us a tour, Harry?” Bill asked, and she knew he was doing it for her. It made her like the Weasleys a bit more.

“Yeah, okay,” agreed on Harry.

After a few minutes of walking — the castle was enormous — a couple of other red-head found the four of them.

“Fred, George, what are you doing here?” asked Bill, pulling them to a short hug. Fred barely cared — he had his eyes locked on you.

“Paying a visit,” said Fred.

“We never see the family,” added George and Harry laughed.

They said hi to y/N too, but she replied blushing.

“I believe you two are gonna follow us in the tour,” said Mrs Weasley, raising a brow towards the oldest twin.

“Why not, mum?” said Fred, smiling.

Harry just shrugged and continued guiding the group around. Fred and George always added information to Harry’s description — only to your ears because they were scared of their mother’s opinion — such as which prank they had done in each place, and where were the secret passages. Y/N like the company; it made her feel wanted.

They all stopped at the Great Hall, where they sat down at the Gryffindor’s table, as Harry explained to y/N.

“Oh, I’d like to sit at the green table,” y/N commented, pointing to it.

Harry widened his eyes while Fred and George came to y/N’s rescue.

“No, you wouldn’t,” said Fred. But he said nothing more to explain what could possibly be wrong with that table.

The other Weasleys that still attended the school and a girl named Hermione Granger also sat next to them while they ate. They all seemed excited with each other, talking about all things that sounded really cool but you had no idea of what it meant.

The tour continued after eating, and y/N loved every moment of it. She was sure she’d love to study there. Would she and Harry be housemates? — oh, yeah, the Weasley girl explained to y/N why they sat at the red table instead of the green one.

Fred and George, surprisingly, followed Harry, Bill, their mom and y/N around all day. Something told y/N they were there for her, but her insecurity never let her be sure.

They were always making jokes and — when their mom wasn’t looking — they’d cast sparkling spells just to see her surprised and amused face.

By the time they had to go back to the Great Hall for the evening feast, y/N had no more doubts that it had been her favourite day of her life. She would have to write it down in a diary or something. For one day, she was just like Harry. For one day, she was a witch.

And that was all she ever wanted.

Then, it all happened.

They called Harry to the task, and they all left to watch. Y/N said her good luck to her cousin and watched him disappear inside the maze. She was uptight during the whole thing. Something didn’t seem right. Was a school suppose to send students inside a make in the middle of the night in an activity that could kill them?

Maybe being a muggle had its perks.

“He’s taking too long, isn’t he?” y/N asked Fred, the twin sat down to her left.

“I can’t tell. Never seen a Tournament before,” he answered.

“But what about the other tasks? Where those this long?”

”No,” sighed Fred.

He noticed she was apprehensive, and he wanted to do something about it. George, who was sitting at y/N’s other side, raised just one hand high enough for Fred to see and he understood.

“Take it,” he offered his hand to her, “you can squeeze it if you are too frightened.”

She looked to the hand and back at him. Such a pretty boy... why would he be nice to her? But it was her good day, so she didn’t think much more before grabbing it.

They stayed like that for a couple of minutes. Every time y/N heard a noise, she would squeeze his hand. Sometimes, she worried she was using too much strength to do so.

When Harry finally popped out of the maze, y/N didn’t think much before pulling Fred into a tight hug. He gripped her with all his force, scared that would be the last and only time he could do so. She probably thinks I’m a freak, he thought to himself.

But then, silence fell upon the crowd that once was cheering. Noticing something was wrong, y/N let go of Fred and rushed down to the field where Harry was over a dead body.

Cedric Diggory was one of the champions, and he laid lifeless in the ground. Next thing she knew, the place was chaotic. Mrs Wealey and Bill took her out of there, but she protested, saying she’d only live when she knew Harry was alright.

They decided to use one of the classrooms to stay with y/N as they waited for information about what was happening. Bill wandered around but quickly came back, noticing it was better to stay and protect his mom and the muggle.

When the door opened a couple of hours later, and it scared Bill for a second before he realized it was only two of his younger brothers.

“George, Fred, what are you doing here?” Mrs Wealsey asked, hugging her boys.

“Keeping you all company,” answered Fred.

“Actually, Mum, Bill, I think Ron wants to talk to you,” added George.

“Ron? Why would...?” but Molly stopped talking when she realized how her son Fred looked to the muggle girl. She pressed her lips in a short smile before grabbing Bill. “Come on, Bill. And, hm, George, I think you need to show us the way.”

“Of course, mum, of course! Follow me,” and just like that, they left y/N alone with Fred.

“Take care of the girl, would you, Freddie?” requested Mrs Weasley.

“Sure, mum,” said Fred.

Y/N seemed unaware of the sat up, and Fred was glad for that. He wanted some time alone, maybe ask her on a date, but it seemed wrong now that he was about to do it. She was worried about her cousin.

“He’s fine, you know,” he started saying. “Harry is okay now.”

She looked at him, tilting her head unconsciously.

“The Diggory boy had an encounter with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Well, Harry faced him too. But Harry lived,” continued Fred, but he was rambling. Y/N was confused about those terms.

There was a dark wizard after Harry. Maybe He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Name was the guy. And Harry survived, so things were... fine?

“Where’s he?” she asked, unaware that Fred was glad they were alone together in a quiet room.

“Talking to Dumbledore,” he said, but that didn’t explain much to y/N. “Our Headmaster,” he added, pressing his lips together in the end.

Y/N sighed, getting up from her chair and walking around the room. There were many thoughts inside her head, and Fred started worrying if you were going to lose your mind. He would never have sent you here if he knew what was going to happen — if only Fred knew then Fred’d have burned that letter Hedwig gave him, but instead, he thought it was some type of sign and sent it to his mom.

He wanted to see y/N. He didn’t know why, but something about her face, her voice — even her mom side with Harry and, definitely, her curiosity with the Wizarding World — made him want to know more about her.

If you asked Harry, he’d say Fred was quite annoying, more than ever. He had all sorts of questions about the muggles to Harry, and he always made the conversation go to the Dursleys and end with y/N. Anything Harry knew about her, Fred now knew too.

“Well, there isn’t much I can do here...” y/N pondered aloud. “Perhaps I should go home. Petunia will be expecting me today, anyway.”

Fred couldn’t understand her words, so he stayed silent. That caused y/N to turn and face the ginger boy.

“Petunia’s my mum. Still don’t feel like callin’ her mum, though,” y/N said what she thought was an explanation, but Fred was still confused, even though he nodded, pretending to understand.

“If you wanna go home, I can get Bill to take you. ’M sure Mom won’t leave Hogwarts so early,” Fred sighed, thinking he would’ve to let her go without a chance to know her more.

“Thank you, Fred,” y/N stepped closer to the boy. “I wish I could stay, and God knows my rebel side is saying stay, but one of your teachers already notified me that, as a muggle, I shouldn’t stay much more.”

Fred bent his head and moved closer to her too. He was thinking.

“Perhaps you can. Sure there are exceptions, and Harry lives with you, so...”

“You can make them allow me to stay?” she asked, and her emotion was making her eyes sparks. Just then Fred noticed that, although worried and scared, she didn’t whine or cry, not even once.

Fred grabbed her hand in a rush of confidence. “Come with me, let’s find someone we can talk about this with.”

And they left. *** It was Professor Sprout that talked to Fred and y/N and honestly, she didn’t understand a word the teenagers were saying. She understood the girl was a muggle — it was obvious by the way her eyes shined, fascinated with the Professor’s clothes and wand — and she noticed Fred Weasley was in love with her.

Fred couldn’t stop side-looking at the muggle, and he nodded at every word she spoke. He also was holding her hand as if his life depended on it. Sprout had seen a lot of teens in love to recognize a couple at first sight.

So, of course, she said yes to the girl’s stay. She just warned:

“Keep her out of your dorm, will you, Weasley?”

The way both of their faces got blushed only confirmed Professor Sprout’s suspects, and she walked away laughing.

Y/N and Fred decided not to mention Professor Sprout’s comment and went to see Harry, who in the hospital ward.

They stayed there, accompanied by every other person that wanted to see Harry Potter — and believe, the place was crowded. The doctor — actually, Fred explained she isn’t a doctor as muggles know it — was a bit mad with all the people around, but y/N did the same as the others and said she wasn’t going to leave Harry’s side.

Even the twins left the place, and two other gingers with the bushy-haired girl, but y/N and Molly Weasley stayed behind.

A lot of things happened, and more than half of them, y/N did not follow. She was okay with not understand if it meant she could stay, but after the mourning of her third day in Hogwarts, Molly decided it was time for y/N to go back home. She couldn’t give worry to her parents any more than she already had.

It was Bill who took her back home with the flying car. He noticed how sad y/N looked — her eyes looking at every detail of the sight of Hogwarts and then her loud breaths as if she fought tears.

“What is it?” he asked, worried. “Is it Harry?”

She was caught by surprise. “Harry? No! He’s fine now, I saw that.”

Bill raised a brow when he side-looked at her for just a second before looking back at the sky ahead.

“I...” y/N sighed, discerning she would have to speak the truth. Something about the guy didn’t let her lie. “I will miss that school. It is so beautiful, and enchanting and... well, magical.”

Bill listened to her every word with a respectful silence.

“I’ll miss being around wizards and witches. You guys are so nice and so lucky! Do you even know it? Do you know how lucky you are because you can do magic? And God! No wonder Harry doesn’t wanna go back to my parents! After meeting your family, neither I want to go back,” y/N sighed, noticing she babbled. “I don’t want to go back to being a muggle,” she whispered, speaking with disgust the last word, and turned her face to the window.

Bill made a sound y/N wasn’t able to decipher, and he waited a while before speaking.

“I’m sorry if this is gonna sound offensive, but you are not going back to being muggle — you are a muggle. You were a muggle back at Hogwarts, you are back at home,” he said, trying hard to appear gentle. He was speaking the truth, but it still offended y/N, so she kept her eyes on the window. “But — and believe me, I’m sure of this — you are, as well as Harry, always welcome at the Burrow.”

Y/N finally stared at him.

“Burrow, you know. My family’s place,” he added that extra information that she had already picked in the air. “Mum loved meeting you. And she wasn’t the only one.”

She kept staring at him, curious.

“Anytime you wanna have a meal with the fam, they’ll have you. You are an incredible girl, and I did not get to this thought all by myself,” he said.

“Thank you, Bill. For the invite and for the, well, help,” y/N pressed Bill’s arm gently, showing her gladness. “It’s good to know you guys like me.”

***

There was nobody home, or so, y/N thought. Bill left her in front of her house, and she walked out of the car empty-handed because before leaving y/N wasn’t planning on staying long at Hogwarts. The clothes she wore back then were Gryffindor uniforms given to her by cute little house-elves, as Fred and George explained.

She walked into an apparently deserted house, so she went directly to her room. She was not expecting to find her mom there, holding one of y/N’s pillows close, sitting in the bed with a sad look towards the mirror.

“Mum?” y/N didn’t feel confident enough to call her Petunia to her face.

The mom turned to see her daughter on the door, and she let go of the pillow.

“I do wish I had gone to the wizard’s school. I wish that every day,” her mom said, surprising y/N. She was not expecting to hear an answer to a question she asked long ago. “I want to be a witch since Lily found out she was one and I’m sorry I deprived you of being as well.”

Y/N gawked at her mom like she was seeing the woman for the first time, and she probably was.

“Mum, it’s not your fault I’m not a witch,” y/N finally said, sitting down next to the mother and hugging her tightly. ��It’s not something to blame someone for. We are who we are, but we don’t have to be mean to others because we aren’t who we crave to be.”

Both Dursleys hugged each other for a couple of minutes, in silence. They were about to cry but never gave in — they hated crying.

“What counts is what we do to be closer to our goal. You have a wizard in your house, mum, and you’ve never shown interest in him,” she said when she pulled away from her mother’s embrace.

“It’s hard for me,” Petunia sighed. “You are young and kind, different from your father and me. If anything, you get it from Lily.”

Y/N tilted her head. That was another thing she wasn’t expecting to hear.

“You are curious when I’m not. You are great and destined for greatness,” Petunia said. “I love you, honey. I know I don’t say it often, but I do.”

“I love you too, mum.”

***

One hot day of July, when Harry was back at home, but wandering downtown and the rest of the family had gone fishing for the day, y/N had the house for herself. She tried to enjoy it, but her mind was somewhere else.

Every day was like that. She started thinking about Hogwarts, then her mind would shift to the Weasleys, and she would end her thought with the face of Fred Weasley. She was going crazy. The Weasleys were barely talking to Harry — to y/N, they were practically strangers once again.

It was insane of her to think about Fred holding her hand, hugging her again, saying everything was going to be okay...

She generally had Harry to bring her back to senses and to the horror to have Voldemort walking around, but Harry wasn’t home that day. It was just y/N and her thoughts.

Until the knock on her front door; Y/N jumped from the couch and rushed to get it.

And to say she was surprised to see the person behind the door was saying the least.

“Fred?” do I have the power to summon people with my mind? Am I a witch?

“Hi, y/N. Sorry I came here suddenly,” y/N agreed, but she also didn’t mind. “It’s just... I can’t take you out of my mind.”

“Me? I’m a muggle!”

“So? That doesn’t stop you from being the most beautiful, kind and interesting girl I’ve ever seen!” It was like Fred was expecting her to be doubtful.

Fred didn’t need to say more. Y/N had learned a lesson about not enjoying the moment ahead of her, and she wasn’t going to miss this opportunity.

She threw her arms around his neck and practically jumped towards the ginger boy, pressing her lips hard on his. Fred was shocked, but when he understood what was happening, he wrapped his arms around her waist, making sure she was trapped in him, and Fred kissed her back, just like he had been dreaming of doing since the day he noticed her when was trying to hide behind a pillow in her living room.

They stayed like this, focused on each other for God knows how long before y/N finally push him away gently while gasping for air.

“I’ve been thinking about you too,” she whispered, looking up at his eyes as he smiled shyly.

“Can we do this more often?” Fred asked, going back to his normal-self and smirking flirtatiously.

“You know, there’s nobody home but me. It’s no Burrow but...” y/N was smirking too eagerly.

“Say no more,” Fred pulled her close again, playing with a lock of her hair with just one hand.

They kissed again, and this time, y/N was going to make sure they were going to do it forever.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley gif #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x dursley!reader #fred weasley x muggle!reader #fred weasley x muggle reader #george weasley #fred and george #fred and george weasley #fanfic request

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fanmoose12 · 4 years ago

Text

Petra was a nice girl. Truth be told, she was very nice. Delicate and petite, soft-spoken and graceful, Levi felt like he could have easily fallen in love with her.

However, she had one small, but very significant flaw – Kenny was the one who had set them up on a date. Even if Levi liked her, even if she definitely seemed like his type, he refused to have a second date. Maybe, she was nice and pretty, but Levi couldn’t shake the feeling that introducing them to one another was one of Kenny’s numerous schemes, that his uncle once again tried to somehow make a fool out of him.

“Why don’t you find yourself someone, Levi?” Kenny would always ask him. “Maybe, some pretty girl will finally make that ugly scowl of yours disappear! And if you find someone rich and influential, it would even elevate your status!”

“Yeah, great advice,” Levi would always sneer back. “From a lifelong bachelor.”

Sitting in a small café next to Petra, listening to her talk about her work, Levi couldn’t stop imagining the moment, when he would return from his date and tell Kenny to just fuck off already and leave him, and more importantly, his personal life alone.

On his way back to the office he thought of dozens different curses and obscenities to yell at his uncle. But the moment he crossed the threshold to his cabinet, the moment he met his mother’s hopeful gaze, Levi’s anger momentarily disappeared.

“How was your date, honey?” she asked with a smile.

Looking at that smile, Levi felt like the biggest asshole in the world. Unlike Kenny, his mother genuinely worried about him. She feared that he was feeling lonely and she wanted for him to find someone, to fall in love and be happy.

And even though, Levi didn’t feel lonely at all, the thought of disappointing his mother, of worrying her, made Levi regret his actions. Maybe, he shouldn’t have rejected Petra? Maybe, he should have agreed to a second date? Maybe, he should at least try to fall in love?

But no, Levi thought. If he started to date Petra, or any of the other girls Kenny had tried to set him up with, he would admit that his uncle was right. There was no way Levi could ever do that. And, besides, he didn’t have time for a relationship. As a vice-president of Kenny’s company, Levi was a very busy man. Especially, since his uncle liked to damp all the work on him. So no, relationship definitely wasn’t for him.

“It was fine, but there wouldn’t be a second date,” Levi finally replied.

Kuchel’s expression immediately changed. Her eyes filled with sadness and the corners of her mouth slid down.

“Why?” she asked quietly. “You didn’t like that girl?”

There wasn’t nothing wrong with her, relationships just aren’t my thing, Levi almost said. But he knew that those words would upset his mother even more. Suddenly, an idea popped up in his mind. It was stupid, completely ridiculous, but. It could work. And it certainly would make his mother happy. So before he could stop himself, Levi said:

“There wasn’t nothing wrong with that girl, mom. I’m just already dating someone else.”

“Oh?” Kuchel was definitely surprised by this revelation, but she quickly overcame her shock. A big, happy smile appeared on her lips and she clasped her hands in delight. “Levi, really? You found someone? Why didn’t you tell us before?”

“I didn’t want to jinx it,” he lowered his head, trying to avoid his mother’s gaze. He felt like a jerk for lying to her, but seeing her joy, Levi almost felt like it was worth it.

“Honey, I want to meet them so much! Can you invite them over for dinner? I’m sure uncle Kenny wants to meet your significant other as well!”

Shit, Levi immediately wanted to take his words back. But it was too late. So he nodded, hoping that his mother would mistake his panic for shyness. “I don’t know if she’ll agree, but I’ll try.”

“Great!” Levi didn’t remember the last time when his mother smiled so widely. “Then I’ll start organizing the dinner right away! Oh, I’m so happy, Levi!” she soundly kissed him on a cheek and then, still smiling happily, she left his office.

As soon as the door closed after her, Levi shakily exhaled. What kind of a mess he just got himself into?

He went to his desk and turned on his computer, opening the craiglist. It was possible to find any kind of weird shit there. And weird shit was exactly what Levi needed.

Almost an hour later, when Levi’s eyes started to burn from the amount of stupid ads he had read, he found it. The perfect ad, which was weirdly offering exactly what Levi needed.

Do you have homophobic or otherwise annoying relatives? Are they inviting you to yet another family event, and so you desperately want to piss them off? Then I’m just the person you need ;)

After reading that description, Levi clicked on the ad without hesitation.

Hi, I’m Hange Zoe, and I have an incredible offer for those of you, who are tired of your irritating relatives! Just for a small fee, I can accompany you to any kind of event (weddings, birthdays, various holidays) and make sure to annoy the hell out of your family! If you dislike your parents, aunts, uncles or anyone else and want them to hate you, then don’t hesitate! Call me and I’ll be your ‘plus one’ that they will never forget!

Levi immediately added their number to his phone. However, before he dialed it, he hesitated, rereading the ad one more time. Was he really going to do it, he wondered, as he stared at the screen. Was he going to call some stranger and ask them to pretend to be his girlfriend? Just because he wanted Kenny to leave him alone? Just because he didn’t want to upset his mother?

Yes, Levi decided finally. No matter how ridiculous it sounded, it was a good plan. He’d pretend to be in love with this girl for a month or so, and then he would ‘break up’ with her. He’d feign a heart-break, act sad and depressed, and everyone would leave him alone. Not for long, Levi knew that, but just enough for him to catch a break.

It is a good plan, Levi reminded himself before taking a deep breath and dialing that number.

After long five beeps, his call was answered.

“Hello?” a deep woman’s voice said. It was husky and confused, although its owner had just woken up. Levi glanced up at a clock – it was 4pm. She couldn’t really be sleeping at this time of day, right? “I’m sorry, but do I know you?”

“Um, no, I… I’ve found your ad. O-on the internet,” damn it, Levi had never felt so embarrassed before.

“Oh, right!” the woman laughed. “You need me to pretend to be your girlfriend, huh?”

“Something like that, yes, but could we discuss the details in person?”

“Sure! I’m free this evening, so we can meet,” she said. “Where do you live?”

“Just text me the address of some coffee shop near your house. I’ll be there in an hour.”

“Alright! And how do I recognize you?”

“I’ll be wearing a black shirt and pants.”

“Great!” the woman chuckled again. “Then I’ll see you in an hour!”

And before Levi could say anything else, she ended the call.

He stared at his phone screen for a long moment. Not for the first time he wondered what the fuck he was doing. But then he received a message, containing the address of a coffee shop. Signing, Levi shook his head. It was a stupid idea, but it could work. He just had to remember that.

***

Levi was sitting in that stupid café for almost half an hour. He had finished two cups of tea already. Maybe, he entered the wrong café? He checked his phone for the tenth time, but, no, the address was definitely correct. So where the fuck was that shithead, who had agreed to meet with him?

Another ten minutes passed, and Levi already prepared to just get up and leave, but then somebody joined him at his table. It was a young woman, probably in her mid-twenties. Her brown hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail and her big glasses were almost slipping from her nose. So that was Hange Zoe? Levi would need to pretend to date that for a whole month?

Suddenly, his idea didn’t seem so good anymore.

“Hi!” the woman energetically waved her hand. “You’re the guy, who is looking for a fake girlfriend, right? I’m Hange Zoe,” she outstretched her palm towards him.

“I know your name,” Levi said, staring at her hand with slight disgust. There were black smudges on it. He would rather die than shake it. “You’ve included it in the ad.”

“Oh, right!” she laughed boisterously. Levi felt a headache forming. “And what is your name?”

“Levi Ackerman,” he answered, making no move to shake her hand.

The woman hummed and lowered her hand, seemingly undisturbed by his apparent rudeness. “It’s nice to meet you, Levi!” she smiled widely. Was she always so annoyingly friendly, Levi wondered. “So what kind of event do you need me for? Wedding, birthday or—”

“Nothing of the sort,” he interrupted. “Truth be told, I have a rather unorthodox situation.”

“Oh?” Hange raised an eyebrow. “Do you need me to accompany you to the funeral or—”

“No!” Levi immediately answered. “Fuck, of course, no. I…” he took a deep breath, thinking how to say it. Maybe, he should explain everything first. “My uncle always sets me up with people, and I’m sick of it. I can’t just tell him to fuck off, because it’ll upset my mother, so… I want you to pretend to be my girlfriend for a month. It won’t require a lot of work!” Levi assured her. “Every Friday we have family dinner, and you’ll just have to come there with me.”

“And that’s all?”

“Um, no…” Levi paused. “I also need you… to move in with me…”

“What?!” Hange cried out, obviously shocked.

“I know how it sounds! But I promise I’m not some kind of a weirdo,” although, that was still open for a debate. He was asking a stranger to be his girlfriend, after all. “My uncle is just very nosy. And he won’t believe that my relationship is serious, if I don’t start living with you. We won’t be sharing a room or anything of the sort!” Levi added, seeing hesitation on her face. “And I’ll pay you as much you want!”

“I’m…” Hange trailed off, picking at her fingernails. “I admit your offer does sound a little bit weird. I’m willing to agree to it, but I need to talk with my roommate first. We share the rent, and if I’m not going to pay my part for a whole month…”

“I’ll pay your part!” Levi hastily offered. “And your roommate’s part as well!”

“Wow,” Hange chuckled. “You’re either crazy rich or really desperate.”

“I’m both,” Levi sighed.

“Fine, I agree then,” Levi couldn’t believe how relieved those words made him. “But I do have to warn you – I’m a scientist and tend to work at odd hours.”

“I don’t care about that,” Levi was suffering from insomnia himself, so a little noise at night wouldn’t disturb him.

“Alright…” Hange trailed off with a hesitant look on her face. “But there is another thing. My laboratory exploded a couple of months ago, that’s why I posted that ad – I’m trying to gather some money for a new one. So sometimes I perform experiments at home. Nothing dangerous!” she quickly assured Levi. “There won’t be any explosions, I swear! And no toxic chemicals too! Most days, I’m just watching my two mice, and I won’t be dissecting them in any foreseeable future, but yeah… I still need to study them.”

“It’s fine,” Levi waved his hand. Of course, he would have preferred to pretend to date someone more ordinary, but it wasn’t like he had a lot of choices. “As long as you don’t destroy my apartment, I don’t care what you do.”

“Excellent!” Hange beamed. “And the last thing,” Christ, there was another thing? “My roommate is also my lab partner, so can he sometimes come to visit me? To help with my experiments?”

“Alright,” Levi sighed. “But that’s everything you need, right?”

“Of course! And all I have to do is to live in your apartment and come with you to family dinner each Friday?”

“Pretty much.”

“Then that’s a deal!”

“Great,” Levi wasn’t feeling as happy as his ‘girlfriend’, but he, too, was satisfied with their arrangement. “If we discussed everything, then I must go. I’ll text you my address later. You can bring your things tomorrow.”

“Cool! Then I’ll see you tomorrow!”

***

The next morning, Levi’s breakfast was interrupted by a very loud, and very insisting knocking.

And there goes my hope for a peaceful day, he mentally complained.

He walked up the door and looked in the peephole. At the other side, he saw a large box.

“It’s me, Hange!” the box exclaimed.

Levi sighed. He almost forgot that she agreed to bring her things today. He opened the door, and Hange walked in, a man, who carried an even bigger box, trailing after her.

“Good morning!” she was as cheerful as yesterday. Levi feared it was her constant state. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought my friend Moblit? He’s the roommate I told you about.”

“Nice to meet you,” the man put the box down and smiled at Levi.

He absentmindedly nodded, not sparing that Moblit another glance. He had no interest in meeting Hange’s friends. They weren’t actually dating.

“How much shit did you bring with you?” he asked Hange.

“There are two more boxes in the car,” Moblit answered for her.

“Alright,” Levi nodded. “Then start unpacking all of your stuff, your room is at the end of that hallway,” he pointed in that direction. “I’ll bring the rest with your friend.”

“Great, thank you, baby!” Hange said cheekily. She winked at Levi, before turning around and beginning to inspect his apartment.

Levi stared after her for a moment. His plan was starting to look worse and worse with each passing minute.

***

“So, you’re not some kind of a murderer, right?” Moblit asked, while they were climbing the stairs, each of them carrying a box with Hange’s belongings.

“I’m not, don’t worry.”

“Oh, that’s good!” Moblit chuckled in relief. “Although, I do have to warn you – sometimes Hange gets too… intense.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Levi rolled his eyes. It was hard to miss that part of his ‘girlfriend’s’ personality.

***

“So,” Hange asked after she finished unpacking and said goodbye to Moblit. “What do I do now? Do I just sit around or do you need me for something?”

“Now, you’re going to show me your wardrobe. If you’re going to be my girlfriend, you’ll need something more presentable that this,” Levi’s eyes were filled with disgust, as he looked at Hange’s oversized t-shirt and her dirty, torn jeans.

“Mm, if you’re hoping to find something better,” Hange chuckled. “Then I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.”

Levi cursed under his breath. His new girlfriend was proving to be much more troublesome than he expected. “Get ready then. We’ll go shopping. I can’t let you walk around, wearing such trash.”

Shopping with Hange was even more difficult than Levi expected. As though trying to annoy him, in each shop Hange picked the ugliest, most outrageous outfits she could find. Levi couldn’t quite understand if she just wanted to irritate him, or did she actually like those clothes. Somehow, he felt like the latter was true.

In the end, after browsing through ten different shops, Levi managed to buy Hange a couple of normal jeans, a few shirts and hoodies. He also picked a few suits for her, because Levi quickly understood that dresses and skirts weren’t Hange’s thing. It didn’t really matter for him, though. He was fine with whatever she decided to wear, as long as it was clean and her outfits didn’t look like a blind person had chosen them.

***

After that first day, however, Levi’s life had almost returned to normal. Sure, Hange was still living with him and occasionally he heard her mutterings or the sounds of her computer, but for the most part, she kept to her word. She was always busy with some work and didn’t bother Levi much.

The only place, where their paths crossed, was the kitchen. Levi would often see Hange, sitting on a countertop with a notebook in her hands, scribbling something down, while she waited for her coffee. Sometimes, they spend their breakfast together. And a couple of nights, when his insomnia acted up, Levi even invited Hange to share a cup of tea with him.

Unexpectedly, Hange wasn’t quite as annoying as Levi first thought. Sure, sometimes she talked a little too much, but Levi quickly learnt that she didn’t really need for him to participate in those conversations. She just liked to talk, especially about her work, and she didn’t expect any kind of an answer. And, truth be told, her blabbering had a strangely soothing effect on Levi.

He was surprised to realize that living with another person wasn’t that terrible.

Maybe, Levi thought fleetingly, he could even get used to it.

The whole week was spent in that manner, as Levi and Hange learnt how to co-exist together, getting to know each other better one day at a time.

But Friday was approaching, and so was the Ackerman family dinner. And neither Kuchel, nor Kenny let Levi forget about that.

His mother called him every day, asking what food Hange preferred and making sure that Levi hadn’t changed his mind about introducing his girlfriend to them.

Kenny smirked every time he saw Levi in the hallways of their company. He patted his shoulder and reminded him that if his girlfriend wasn’t actually real, now was the best time to reveal it.

Naturally, it pissed Levi off. Not that Kenny was that far from truth, but really? Could he have some faith in his nephew?

***

Friday came much faster than Levi expected. Before long, he found himself sitting in a car, dressed in his favorite blue suit. Hange was sitting beside him, wearing a dark green pants and white shirt that Levi had bought for her earlier.

She didn’t seem nervous in the slightest. Levi envied her.

“I think it’s time for us to talk strategies,” she said, as Levi began driving.

“Huh?”

“Well, we have to think of a legend. Our first meeting, our first date, when we realized we’ve fallen in love,” Hange waved her hands around. “That kind of thing.”

“Oh,” Levi didn’t think about it.

And judging by Hange’s mischievous gaze, she saw right through him. “Jeez, you’re lucky to have me. So I’ve been thinking about our first meeting, and we can tell that we’ve met, when my car broke down. I needed help, and you, as true gentlemen, offered to fix it.”

“I don’t think my family would believe this whole ‘true gentlemen’ crap,” Levi grumbled, earning a soft chuckle from Hange. “But alright, what happened next?”

“Well, naturally I decided to invite you to dinner to express my gratitude.”

“But I’ve refused?”

“Yes, you refused!” Hange threw her hands in the air, so scandalized, as though it actually happened. “But, luckily, I’m very stubborn, so I literally followed you, until you agreed to go out with me.”

Levi almost smiled. He could quite clearly picture that. “And then you’ve begged me to give you my phone number.”

“I didn’t beg,” Hange protested. “It was more like I forced you to give it to me.”

“And then you’ve started texting me practically non-stop,” Hange definitely seemed like a person, who would do that. “So I had no choice, but to agree to a second date.” “Mm, yeah. We started going out and on our fourth date, you literally couldn’t resist my dashing looks anymore, so you kissed me, whispering how much you love me right into my lips.”

Levi gave her the most unimpressed of his looks. Hange burst out laughing.

“What?” she asked. “It’s a cute story!”

“Let’s hope my family believes it,” Levi sighed.

Five minutes later, Levi stopped in front of his mother’s house.

“We’re here,” he announced.

He walked out of the car and hurried to Hange’s side, opening the door for her and offering her his hand.

“If you keep acting like this,” she giggled, taking the offered hand. “No one will believe that our relationship is real. Don’t worry,” she said softly. “Just be yourself.”

Levi rolled his eyes. He would never admit it, of course, but, maybe, Hange was right.

“Wait!” Hange widely opened her eyes. “We haven’t discussed one very important detail!”

“What are you talking about?” Levi furrowed his eyebrows.

“Our pet names, of course, silly! How do you want me to call you? Babe? Honey? Little kitten?”

Levi cringed. Then he looked at Hange closer. Her shoulders were shaking, as though she was barely holding in her laugh.

“You are such a jerk,” Levi mumbled. “Let’s go already. I hate to be late.”

“Mm, as you say, kitten,” Hange giggled, as Levi sent her his scariest glare. She didn’t even flinch. Instead, she wrapped her arm around his waist, making it look so casual, as though she was doing it all the time. Meanwhile, it took every part of Levi’s willpower to relax and put his own hand around her shoulders.

Walking up to his mother’s house, Levi knocked. In less than a second, she answered, wearing a bright, happy smile.

“You came!” she exclaimed, her eyes immediately locking onto Hange. “I’m so happy to meet you! I can’t believe Levi was hiding you from us for so long!”

“I’m pleased to meet you, as well, Mrs. Ackerman,” Hange tucked a lose lock of her hair, blushing slightly. Levi wondered if it was genuine or just an act.

“Oh, please, just call me Kuchel!” she squeezed Hange in a tight hug. “We’re almost family, after all!”

“Mom, please,” even if all of it was a lie, Levi’s embarrassment was quite real. “If you continue to act like this, Hange will never agree to visit us again.”

“Ah, don’t listen to that shorty,” Hange chuckled. “You’re so nice!”

“Shorty?” Levi cursed, as he heard that particular voice, followed by a hearty laugh. “I already like you, my dear!”

“She’s not your dear,” Levi glared at his uncle.

Kenny’s smile grew wider. “Uh-oh, someone is jealous. Don’t worry, kid, I won’t steal your girlfriend. If you promise to treat her nicely.”

“Shut up, old man,” Levi growled.

“Boys, stop it!” Kuchel gave them both a disapproving look. “Levi, show Hange the dining room, and, you, Kenny, go and help me in the kitchen.”

“Maybe, I can help you with something, too?” Hange offered.

“Oh, honey, absolutely not,” Kuchel shook her head. “You’re our guest tonight, so just relax and let us handle everything.”

“Well, if you insist,” Hange said with a soft smile.

“She’s not only pretty, but polite, as well!” his mother whispered to him, before Levi walked away. “I’m so happy you’ve found yourself someone so nice!”

Levi quickly nodded and turned away, feeling the guilt eat at him again.

***

“So, Hange,” Kenny began, taking a sip from his glass. “Tell us what you do.”

“I’m a scientist,” Hange said. “I study the regeneration process and ways of enhancing it.”

“You’re not just looks, but brains too, huh?” Kenny winked at her. “So what did you find in my nephew?”

“Well, I couldn’t resist his charmingly grumpy attitude,” Hange shrugged.

Kenny and Kuchel burst out laughing.

“Levi, I really don’t envy you,” Kenny said. “With tongue as sharp as hers, you surely can’t catch a break.”

“Tell me about it,” Levi rolled his eyes.

The conversation continued after that, and, as he watched Hange discuss politics with Kenny or talk about books with his mother, Levi couldn’t quite shake the feeling that Hange belonged here. She surprisingly easy got on with his family, and both Kenny and Kuchel already seemed to adore her.

His family kept talking about something, but Levi didn’t exactly pay attention. Instead, he was focused on Hange, as his eyes followed her every movement. Suddenly, their gazes met, and Levi hastily looked away, taking a large sip of wine from his glass. Trying not to act like he was caught staring at his ‘girlfriend’ like some kind of a creep. Reminding himself that all of it was just an act.

***

In the end, he drank a little too much wine. He wasn’t exactly drunk, but he couldn’t drive either, so his mother persuaded Levi to stay the night at her house.

“We have a guestroom,” she said. “And it’s pretty late already. I will feel much better, if you sleep here tonight.”

“I…” Levi never really could say no to his mother. “If Hange’s okay with it, then so am I.”

“Well, I don’t need to go to work tomorrow,” Hange replied. “So yeah, let’s stay.”

“Great!” Kuchel smiled. “Then you should go and relax in the living room, while I prepare the bedding for you.”

“Please, let me help,” Hange said.

“No, no,” Kuched refused again. “I’ve seen the way Levi was staring at you the whole evening,” she winked. “I’m sure he can’t wait to spend some time alone with you!”

“Mom!” Levi exclaimed, scandalized.

“Oh, honey, there is no need to be ashamed,” Kuchel ruffled his hair. “You’re a big boy already.”

“Big, but not tall,” Hange joked.

“Shut the fuck up,” Levi growled, grabbing her hand and dragging her to the living room.

Once there, away from the prying eyes of his family, Levi finally let himself relax. In the meanwhile, Hange took out two glasses and filled them with wine.

She held one glass out for Levi. “To the success of our little act,” she smiled.

“We’ve really managed to fool them,” Levi agreed, drinking from his glass.

“Yes,” Hange drew out, smiling lazily.

Levi suddenly realized how close they were sitting. Their thighs were pressed together, and when Levi turned his face to look at Hange, he was almost nose to nose with her. She seemed to realize that as well, but, unlike Levi, their proximity didn’t seem to freak her out.

On the contrary, she leaned in closer, until their lips were almost touching. “Your mother is watching,” she whispered, before kissing him.

It wasn’t a long kiss, it lasted for no more than five seconds, but those five seconds seemed like an eternity to Levi. He was shocked by Hange’s actions, but for some reason, probably because he was drunker than he thought, Levi didn’t even think about pushing her away.

He didn’t think about their lie, about his mother or Kenny. No, he thought only of Hange and the feeling of her surprisingly soft lips against his.

As soon as Hange moved away, Levi pretended to look behind her shoulder. “My mother is still here,” he lied, kissing her again.

His mother wasn’t there, of course. If Hange had strained her ears, she would quickly realize that Levi’s mother was in the kitchen, talking with Kenny. Maybe, she wasn’t actually watching them, when Hange had kissed him too, but Levi couldn’t care less. He was slowly losing himself in that kiss, and he wanted nothing more than to continue.

“So what about that promised guestroom?” Hange asked when they broke apart.

Levi nodded, his mind too blank to think of proper words. He got to his feet and Hange followed his suit. He led her to the bedroom and then closed the door, hoping that neither his mother, nor especially Kenny would disturb them.

“Are you sure?” he looked closely at Hange, taking pleasure in watching the rapid rise and fall of her chest and the way blush painted her face. This sight was making him drunker than the wine.

“Yes,” Hange breathed out, her voice husky and so, so sexy.

This was all Levi needed. He swiftly closed the distance between them, connecting his lips with hers. Hange put her hands into his hair, and when Levi moved from her lips to her neck, sucking at the delicate skin there, her fingers started to play with his strands, pulling at them and moaning softly.

They were just drunk, Levi kept telling himself, when he took off her glasses and began unbuttoning her shirt.

They couldn’t think straight, he reminded himself, as he pushed Hange down onto the bed.

It didn’t mean anything, he tried to persuade himself after they’ve finished and he slowly drifted to sleep, hugging Hange close to his chest.

***

Levi woke up with a groan. The fucking sun was shining right in his eyes, and he turned away from it, covering his face with a blanket.

He was ready to go back to sleep, when suddenly it hit him.

The sun, it was already high enough to shine through the window. He shot up and looked at the clock.

10:39.

What the fuck?

He had never, ever slept for so long. Usually Levi slept for no more than four hours. What the fuck happened?

And then, oh, the memories of last night began to resurface. He remembered his mother’s smiling face, as he introduced her to Hange, he remembered Kenny’s annoying smirk, as he continuously teased him, he remembered Hange, acting shy, but pleased, as she talked with his family. He remembered the kiss and everything that followed.

Levi sat up on the bed, hands in his hair. Shit, what did he do last night? Why did he decide it was a good idea to sleep with Hange? Why didn’t she stop him? Why didn’t he stop himself?

And as Levi glanced around the room, another important question appeared in his mind – where was Hange now?

Was she disgusted by him? Did she regret last night so much that she ran away? Was it the end of their arrangement?

Levi hurriedly got up from the bed. Putting his clothes on, he rushed downstairs, all the while thinking of how he would explain all of it to his mother.

He also needed to find Hange. Maybe, he should apologize to her? Explain that he was drunk and couldn’t think clearly?

Levi practically burst into the kitchen.

And then he promptly stopped, looking at the scene in front of him with wide, confused eyes.

Hange was sitting there. She held a cup of coffee in her hands and there was a small smile on her lips, as she listened to whatever his mother was talking about.

Hange. Was. There.

She didn’t run away, didn’t abandon him. She was there, so relaxed and joyful as though last night didn’t happen.

“Good morning, honey!” his mother was the first one to notice him. “Did you have a good night? You’ve been sleeping for much longer than usual.”

Yes, he did. He slept for almost ten hours. The last time he slept for so long was when… No, Levi couldn’t even remember when he had such a good night sleep. He couldn’t explain it to himself. Of course, he had some faint idea, but no. Even the notion of it was ridiculous. He probably slept for so long, because he was drunk (although, he didn’t have the smallest sign of hungover, but Levi promptly ignored this fact).

He had drunk too much, and that’s why he was sleeping for so long. Hange, sleeping in the bed beside him, had nothing to do with it.

“Hey, sit down,” Hange pointed to a chair next to her, “and have this.”

Levi skeptically looked at the mug that Hange put next to him. It looked like tea and smelled like it, too. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“Oh, c’mon!” Hange rolled her eyes. “It’s tea, I didn’t poison it or anything.”

“It doesn’t hurt to be careful with you, four-eyes,” Levi grumbled. He did as she asked, though, and took a sit next to her. He lifted the mug and gave it another critical look. “It’s not another experiment of yours, right? I won’t grow a second head after drinking it?”

“Have some faith in me,” Hange playfully punched his shoulder. “Besides, your mother was there, when I made it. I couldn’t have poisoned you in front of her.”

“I guarantee that this tea is completely harmless,” Kuchel said with a smile.

“Alright,” Levi gave in and then took a small, tentative sip.

It was tea, just as Hange said. Strong and bitter with a heavy herbal scent. Exactly as he liked it.

Levi looked up in surprise. He glanced at Hange, and then his eyes focused on his mother.

“Don’t look at me like that, honey,” Kuchel chuckled. “It wasn’t me who told her how to prepare it. Hange knew it herself.”

Levi turned back to Hange, an intense look in his eyes.

“I watched you prepare tea the other day,” she explained with an almost shy smile. “Is it good?” if Levi didn’t know better, if he didn’t know that it was just an act, he’d say that Hange was nervous.

But. It all was just an act. Even if he started to wish that it wasn’t.

“That’s exactly how I drink it,” for some weird reason, he felt tense. Hange’s eyes on him made him uncomfortable. But not in a bad way. “Thank you,” he whispered more softly than he intended to.

“Ah, a good cup of tea is a sure way to our Levi’s heart,” Kenny chuckled, coming from behind to ruffle Levi’s hair. Levi didn’t even notice him entering the kitchen.

“Are you going somewhere?” he asked, noticing that Kenny was already dressed.

“Got some business in the office,” Kenny put his hat on, grinning at Levi. “You can take a day-off, by the way. Rest and relax, spend time with your lovely lady,” he winked at Hange. “Don’t think about the work.”

“B-but—”

“No buts!” Kenny chided. “I’m not doing this for you, kid. I’m sure Hange will get lonely, if you continue to work like a madman.”

Levi gritted his teeth, knowing perfectly well that it was pointless to argue with Kenny. Well, his apartment needed cleaning anyway.

“Oh, and by the way,” Kenny said, before walking out. “You didn’t forget about the Gathering this weekend?”

Levi barely stopped himself from groaning out loud. He did forget about that stupid shit.

Hange kicked his leg under the table, a silent question in her eyes.

“I’ll tell you later,” Levi whispered to her, before turning back to his uncle.

“Do I really have to go?” he asked him. “You know I hate it.”

“As do I, kid,” Kenny smirked. “Bring Hange with you, you won’t feel so miserable then. Well,” Kenny tipped his hat. “I’m off to work now! Adios!”

***

“So what was Kenny talking about?” Hange asked, as soon as they said goodbye to Kuchel and got inside the car.

Levi sighed. “It’s an annual event. Gathering, as they call it. Basically, it’s a banquet for the richest, snobbiest shits in this city.”

“Oh,” Hange smirked. “It’s for the people like you!”

“I’m rich,” Levi glared at her. “And sometimes I can be quite shitty, but I’m not a snob.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Hange chuckled. “So, you need me to accompany you there?”

“I know it wasn’t a part of our deal—”

“No, I’m fine with that,” Hange carelessly waved her hand. “I can’t abandon you in the time of need, right?”

“Thanks,” Levi said, feeling more relieved that he probably should be.

***

The following week Levi spent drowning in his work. Even though, Kenny became strangely productive, there were still a shit ton of things that needed his attention. And, of course, the Gathering was approaching, so Levi had to help with organizing it, as well.

As a result, he was coming home close to midnight or even later, and almost didn’t see Hange. Sometimes she texted him, asking what groceries she should buy, and sometimes she left a dinner for him with a little note on the fridge.

But their communication was kept to a minimum, and Levi was glad that it was.

During the day, his mind was occupied with financial reports, income statements and other paperwork. There were a thousand of workers he needed to keep in check, dozens of problems he needed to solve. There was no time for him to think of anything else.

However, once he came back home, once he lay in his bed, having nothing to distract himself with, his treacherous mind began to fill with unwanted images.

He saw Hange’s flushed face, as she asked him where the bedroom was. He felt her needy and passionate kisses, he heard her quiet moans and gasps. He remembered how good it felt to hold her in his arms, how sweet his dreams were, as Hange slept beside him.

It was hard for Levi to admit, but he desperately wanted to repeat that night, wanted to feel the warmth of Hange’s body once more.

But he knew that he couldn’t.

Hange acted as though nothing happened between them. In front of Levi’s family, she pretended to be his girlfriend. When they were alone, she acted like they were friends. Not even once did she speak of that night.

Maybe, she was drunker than she seemed and didn’t remember it. Or, maybe, it wasn’t such a big deal for her. Either way, she didn’t seem uncomfortable.

And Levi would really, really like to follow her suit. To forget about it and continue with his life. But maybe, he was spending too much time working and not enough sleeping. Maybe, the guilt from lying to his mother was making him crazy.

His life would probably return to normal, once the month was over.

But as for now, Levi could only hope.

***

“Wow,” Hange breathed out, as she and Levi moved through the crowd of extremely rich-looking people. “That is one hell of a fancy party.”

Levi didn’t answer, too busy glaring at the disgusting pigs, surrounding him. Their fake smiles and overly polite words made him sick. However, he had to admit – Hange’s presence somewhat managed to lift his sour mood.

“What should we do?” she continued, undisturbed by his silence or scowling face. “Do we come up to say hi or—”

“Absolutely not,” Levi protested. “We find the emptiest corner we can and hope no one notices us.”

Hange’s chuckled, the sound filled with relief. “Yeah, works for me. I don’t think I’ll be well received by this particular crowd.”

“And neither will I,” Levi replied, dragging her to the most secluded part of the room.

They stood there for almost half an hour, with Hange providing hilarious commentary on every guest and Levi barely resisting from laughing out loud.

“Oh, no,” Hange suddenly said, her voice urged and tinted with panic. She grabbed Levi by the hand, squeezing it almost painfully. “He is here.”

“Who?” Levi asked, trying to see who the fuck managed to worry Hange so much.

“No, no,” she whispered. “Don’t look at him. Maybe, he won’t notice us then.”

“Who did you—”

And oh, now Levi saw him too. Zeke fucking Yeager.

“You know him?” he asked.

“Yes,” it wasn’t hard to notice the distain in her tone. “We’ve attended the same university. He was the second most successful student. After me, of course. We were rivals, of sorts. Wait,” Hange looked at Levi with wide eyes. “You know him too?”

“Yes,” Levi sighed. “His company rivals my uncle’s.”

“Shit,” Hange said. Levi couldn’t agree more.

“Shit,” she repeated, more urgently this time. “He saw us. And he’s heading our way.”

If Levi wanted to escape, it was too late now. In a matter of seconds, Zeke was standing right in front of them.

“Who do I see? The brightest mind of our generation,” with a sweet smile on his face, Zeke grabbed Hange’s palm and planted a kiss on it. “Miss Hange Zoe, it’s been awhile.”

“It’s Doctor Hange Zoe,” she corrected. “And I’m sure you know it.”

“Ah, as fierce as ever,” he chuckled. “I’ve missed your passion.”

“And haven’t you missed me, Zeke?” Levi interrupted, glaring at him.

Zeke chuckled again. “Levi, I didn’t notice you. I think you’ve become even shorter.”

Levi had to summon all of his willpower to stop himself from punching that arrogant asshole. Hange’s hand, which was squeezing his almost painfully, did a great job of keeping him grounded.

“And I think you’ve become an even bigger piece of a shit than you were,” he gritted through his teeth.

“As vulgar as always,” Zeke rolled his eyes. “What else could I expect from an Ackerman?”

Zeke continued to show his overly sweet smile, but his eyes filled with some confusion, as he saw Hange and Levi’s joined hands.

“Don’t tell you’ve come here with him, Miss Zoe,” he said, pointedly ignoring Levi.

“I haven’t come with him,” Hange replied, her smile so big, she almost bared her teeth at Zeke. “I am with him.”

“You’re dating?” Zeke’s eyebrows went so high, they’ve reached his hairline. “So you didn’t take pity on that pathetic friend of yours? The one, who was always following you like a faithful dog?”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Hange said, her voice cold and her gaze sharp.

“Oh, so you don’t even remember him? That foolish guy… what was his name? Mob— Mobit?”

“Moblit,” Hange corrected him through gritted teeth. “And there is nothing pathetic or foolish about him. He’s ten times better person than you are.”

“Really? He’s so good? And yet you’ve chosen Levi Ackerman over him?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” Hange sneered. “But if you haven’t noticed how amazing Levi is, then I don’t think I can persuade you.”

Unfortunately, before Levi could relish in the sight of Zeke’s dumfounded face or process what Hange had just said about him, he was quite rudely dragged away.

“What a fucking asshole, what a jerk,” Hange muttered, as she led Levi through the crowd of guests. “How dare he talk about Moblit like this, and how dare he shit on you as well, I just—”

Levi stopped so abruptly, Hange had no other choice than to come to a stop alongside him.

“What?” she asked. “Do you see another annoying asshole?”

“No,” Levi shook his head, wondering if he actually understood Hange clearly. Was she pissed off at Zeke not just for offending her friend? Did she try to defend him as well? “Everything’s fine, let’s go to the balcony. I need to get some air.”

“Yeah, good idea,” Hange nodded.

As they stood at the balcony, each lost in their own thoughts, Levi couldn’t help but stare at Hange. Illuminated by stars and city lights, she looked different than usual. Almost surreal.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she suddenly cursed, breaking Levi out of his reverie. “That fucker is still staring at us.”

Levi looked back and saw it too. Zeke was standing in the main room, looking right at them and smirking arrogantly.

An idea popped up in Levi’s head.

“Hey,” he said before he could stop himself. “Do you want to piss him off?”

“Of course,” Hange agreed without hesitation.

Levi smirked, laying his hands on Hange’s waist and bringing her closer. The voice inside his head cursed and protested, begging Levi to stop. He didn’t listen.

Instead, he leaned in even closer, until mere centimeters were everything that separated Hange and him. He gave her last careful look, searching for the smallest signs of discomfort. There wasn’t any.

So Levi connected his lips with hers, instantly losing himself in the kiss. His hands gripped her waist tighter, as he deepened the kiss.

Zeke probably wasn’t watching them anymore, but Levi continued to kiss her. Just to be sure.

And he would have continued to kiss her for much longer, but suddenly Hange pushed him away.

“Not that I’m not enjoying it,” she chuckled, her voice husky. She was enjoying it? Levi wondered if she meant the kiss or the act of pissing Zeke off. “But I think we should stop. Otherwise we’ll get kicked out of this fancy party.”

I don’t care, Levi almost argued. If he looked around, he’d see dozen of people staring at him. He’d see Zeke and his friends, watching them with disgust (and with poorly hidden envy), Kenny, smirking proudly, and all the other guests, giving him confused looks, not actually believing that Levi Ackerman, a known bachelor just as his uncle, was kissing some unknown, nerdy-looking woman.

And still, he didn’t care. None of it mattered, not really. Not as much as Hange did.

But he couldn’t tell that to her, couldn’t reveal what exactly she made him feel.

So he took a step back, letting go of her, and nodded, still looking a little bit dazed. “Let’s go home, then. I’m sick of this stupid shit.”

As soon as they got home, Hange headed to her bedroom, claiming that she was exhausted.

Levi couldn’t decide if he should feel relieved or disappointed.

***

The next Friday, it was Levi’s turn to host Ackerman family dinner. He spent the whole day in the kitchen, preparing the food and slapping Hange’s hands away, whenever she tried to help him.

He had witnessed her once, cooking an omelet. He swore to never let her come close to oven ever again.

Amazingly, but that dinner was even more successful than the first one. Levi’s mother and uncle seemed to like Hange even more, as her bright smile and warm eyes managed to charm them even further.

As he watched the three of them talk, Levi remembered that he planned on ‘breaking up’ with Hange soon. Initially, Hange agreed to be his girlfriend for a month. Levi didn’t believe that he’d endure her for so long. But now it felt like it wasn’t even nearly enough.

He liked living with Hange. Even though, all of it was an act, just Hange doing, what he had paid her for, Levi started to wish that all of it was real. That Hange was actually his girlfriend, that all of her signs of affection were genuine, that she actually liked him.

He started to wish that he could stop pretending that it was all just an act for him.

***

Levi just returned back to his apartment after walking his mother and Kenny to their car, when he heard a strange sound. It sounded like four-eyes didn’t fucking listen to him and decided to wash the dishes.

“What the fuck are doing?” he asked, walking into the kitchen and scowling at Hange.

“Well, what does it look like?” Hange shrugged, undisturbed by Levi’s hard gaze. “I’m doing the dishes.”

“I told you I’m going to do it myself.”

A smirk appeared on Hange’s lips. A very mischievous and evil smirk. “Then come here and stop me, shorty.”

Levi growled and started moving. That was his mistake. As soon as he was close enough, Hange took the faucet in her hands and directed the flaw directly at him.

He cursed, as he realized that his favorite shirt was ruined, but didn’t stop. He reached Hange and put his hands on hers, trying to push her away. She redirected the flaw from his shirt to his face.

Spurting and gritting his teeth, Levi used all of his force to press her to the countertop. Without looking away from her face, he turned off the faucet.

“So?” he said right into her lips. “What are you going to do now?”

“Oh, Levi,” Hange rolled her eyes, looking relaxed and quite content. “You should know that I always have an ace up my sleeve.”

Before Levi could really process her words, Hange surged forward, claiming his lips in a passionate kiss. Instantly, Levi’s mind was turned off, just like that faucet moments ago. He forgot about his wet shirt, about his annoyance and anger. All that was left was Hange and the feeling of her body in his arms.

“A-ah, Levi!” Hange moaned, as Levi moved away from her lips to bite at her earlobe. That sound was like music to him. “W-wait, wait!”

She put her hands on his chest, pushing away. Confused, Levi instantly took a step back.

“Are we really going to do it?” Levi became even more confused. They’ve done it before, two weeks ago. And they’ve kissed again at the Gathering. Why was Hange against it now? “I mean,” she trailed off, her gaze constantly darting to his lips. “Wouldn’t it be better to move to the bedroom?”

Oh, Levi couldn’t believe, how relieved he felt.

Without wasting any second, he kissed Hange again.

“It’s the smartest thing you’ve said to me,” he whispered, before taking her hand and hurriedly leading her to his bedroom.

***

And so… they’ve fucked again. And as Levi woke up (again, much later than usual), again his bed was empty.

So it was just sex after all. Levi knew he shouldn’t be surprised. But his heart still squeezed painfully, as that realization hit him.

***

After taking a shower and putting his clothes on, Levi walked out of the bedroom, searching for Hange. He knew that he should leave it and her alone, try to forget about last night, but he felt almost physical need to see her. Just to make sure that she was still there, that she didn’t leave him.

But as Levi walked up to her room, he saw that Hange wasn’t alone.

Her friend Moblit was sitting in a chair, as Hange stood close to him, her right hand pointing at something on the computer screen. Her left hand was at the back of Moblit’s head, as her fingers absentmindedly played with his hair.

As he watched that overly sweet scene, Levi’s jaw tightened. Anger began flowing through him like hot lava.

Without saying anything, he shut the door closed and turned around, walking out of his apartment.

So for Hange it really was just sex? She really didn’t feel anything for him? Levi knew, he knew that he shouldn’t have expected anything else. It was just a job for Hange, and who could blame her for deciding to have some fun, while at it?

It was Levi, who was a fool. He made a mistake, he got attached. He should have known better.

But he didn’t.

Levi spent almost three hours, wondering the streets. Trying to get those annoying thoughts about Hange out of his head.

Thankfully, he knew just the right remedy for that.

So he headed to his office, determined to throw himself head-first into the work.

***

And threw himself he did. He was pushing himself to the point of exhaustion, sitting in his office till early hours of morning. He slept for less than two hours and he came home only to shower and change clothes. He avoided Hange completely, ignoring all of her texts and calls.

It was just one more week, he kept telling himself. One more week and this whole idiotic charade would be over. His life would return to normal and he would forget about that stupid woman.

Hange would disappear from his life. And maybe then, his heart would stop aching.

***

Levi kept that crazy schedule for four days straight. And, unfortunately, but naturally, it had quite negative effects on his productivity.

He cursed, as he was getting ready to a meeting with investors, and realized that he had forgotten important documents at home. He had two hours until the meeting started, but it was the middle of the day. If he came home now, it would be impossible to avoid Hange.

Levi cursed again, thinking, if he had any alternatives. Of course, he could ask someone else to pick the documents for him. One of his assistants, for example. Or he could just suck it up and do it himself.

After all, it was his apartment. And, maybe, Hange wasn’t even awake right now, or, maybe, she was too absorbed in another one of her experiments. She probably wouldn’t even notice his arrival. And even if she did, Levi would be gone, before she could start a conversation.

And with that in mind, Levi headed out of his office.

***

As he entered his apartment, Levi found it to be blessedly quiet. So, his guess was right – Hange was sleeping. It wouldn’t be so peaceful, if she wasn’t.

Satisfied that he wouldn’t run into her, Levi decided to brew himself a cup of tea. The one he was drinking at the office wasn’t as good as the one he had at home. Levi missed its exquisite taste.

However, as he walked into the kitchen, he found out that he wasn’t alone at his apartment. No, that fucker, Moblit, was sitting there.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, putting down the book he was reading. “Hange said you wouldn’t return until evening. She went out to grab us a lunch,” he hurriedly explained.

“Whatever,” Levi grumbled, taking out his favorite cup. Just the sight of Moblit’s face made his anger resurface, but Levi decided to ignore it. He wouldn’t lose his cool because of some idiot Hange was evidently in love with.

“You’re breaking her heart, you know,” Moblit quietly said. Levi froze. “You’ve been avoiding her and Hange noticed it,” Moblit continued, staring into his cup. “It makes her sad.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Levi looked away from him, determined to finish brewing his tea. Deciding to ignore those stupid words and how they made him feel.

“You really don’t?” Moblit asked. The earnest tone of his voice made Levi clench his jaw. He didn’t know what he was talking about. And he didn’t want to. “Do you really not care about Hange?”

“I don’t,” Levi said, hating how untrue he sounded even to his own ears. “And besides,” he took a step closer, glaring furiously at Moblit. “Why are you so worked up about this? Even if it’s true and I’m breaking Hange’s heart, why are you so upset? It could be your chance, you know. If she’s sad, you can be the one to soothe her pain. Be her shoulder to cry on. Maybe, then she will finally see you.”

Moblit shot to his feet, his hands clenched into fists and trembling with barely conceived anger. “If it weren’t for Hange,” he gritted through his teeth. “I would have punched you. God knows, you deserve it. You’re lucky she cares about you.”

He pushed past Levi, heading to the entrance door. “Tell Hange I’ve got some urgent business.” He said before walking out.

Levi watched him go, his shoulders shaking from anger. He wanted to smash something, to take something in his hands and fucking break it. Maybe, Moblit really should have punched him, Levi would have punched him back. It would be a great outlet for his frustration.

But as the moments went by, Levi’s anger at Moblit, and at Hange, disappeared. Instead, as his mind began to clear out, Levi understood what he had done, what he had said.

Moblit didn’t deserve such cruel words. Clearly, he was a good man, who cared about his friend. It wasn’t his fault that Hange cared about him too. It wasn’t his, or hers, fault that Levi wanted her to care about him instead.

Levi sighed, slowly lowering himself onto the chair. He was going crazy, that’s for sure.

One week, he reminded himself. He needs to survive one week, and then it would be over.

***

He was still sitting there, trying to regain his composure, when the front door of his apartment opened. Hange walked in, carrying a box of pizza in her hands.

“Levi!” the surprise was evident in her voice. Levi looked up at her and instantly regretted his decision. His treacherous heart skipped a beat at the sight of her face. He didn’t realize that he missed her so much.

“I didn’t expect you to come home so early. Something happened?” she asked, staring at him worriedly.

“Forgot some documents at home,” he murmured absentmindedly, unable to take his eyes away from her.

“Oh, did you have lunch already?” she put the pizza down. “Want to join Moblit and me?”

“Moblit went home,” as he said those words, he was once again filled with guilt and shame. “He needed to take care of something.”

Hange’s face fell. “I brought his favorite pizza…” however, a moment later, a smile returned to her lips. “Well, then you definitely have to share it with me! I can’t eat it all by myself.”

Levi wanted to refuse. He even had a reason to – he had to return back to work. But looking at Hange’s hopeful eyes, he felt his resolve slipping.

“Fine,” he said, trying to sound as annoyed as possible. “But don’t you dare to bore me with your scientific rumblings.”

“As you wish!” Hange laughed. “Besides, I want to hear about you too. What have you been up to these days? You work so much, I barely see you anymore.”

Levi hated the genuine worry in Hange’s voice. It tugged at his heart. It made him feel like the biggest jerk in the world. It filled him with remorse and regret.

“I… I just had a lot of work.”

She shook her head. “You should take it easy. Your mother worries, you know.”

“You talked with her?” Levi raised his eyebrows. It was news to him.

“She visited me yesterday,” Hange shrugged. “She probably wanted to see you, as well.”

“Oh.”

“Your mother is very nice,” Hange chuckled. “I’ll miss her after our break-up.”

Of course, they were going to ‘break up’ this weekend. Their arrangement was coming to an end.

Levi knew he should feel relieved. But he didn’t.

“You should probably get her ready for our break-up,” Hange took a bite of the pizza, oblivious to the effect this particular conversation had on Levi. “So it wouldn’t seem like it happened out of blue.”

Levi nodded, looking away from Hange. He knew that all of it was a lie, that their relationship weren’t real. But for some reason, his heart still ached and just the thought of saying goodbye to Hange made him sick.

“I need to go,” he suddenly rose to his feet, hastily finishing his slice of pizza. “I have an important meeting.”

“Will you come home this evening?” Hange asked, her eyes boring into his. “Or will you spend the night in your office again?”

“You’ve been avoiding her and Hange noticed it,” Moblit’s words rang inside his head. “It makes her sad.”

“I have a lot of work,” he answered helplessly. Then, before he could stop himself, he added. “But I’ll try to finish earlier.”

“Yay!” the obviously happy smile on Hange’s face made Levi’s mouth go dry. “Then I’m cooking dinner tonight!”

“Don’t you dare,” Levi hissed. “I’ll order take-out on my way home.”

“Still don’t trust my cooking skills, shorty?”

“I just want to keep my apartment,” he retorted before leaving the kitchen.

As he was heading to the office, a small smile was on his lips.

He didn’t even notice.

***

“Honey?” Kuchel softly knocked on the side his office’s door. “Are you busy?”

“No,” Levi shook his head, putting his papers away. There was no work more important than his mother. “Is everything alright?”

“Of course. Just brought you some sandwiches,” Kuchel laid them down on his desk, taking a seat across from Levi. “You’ve been working a lot these past few days.”

“Yeah,” Levi ran a hand through his hair. “There are a lot of things that need my attention.”

“So responsible,” Kuchel smiled. “You look exhausted. And stressed,” she looked at Levi, her usually soft grey eyes turning sharp. “Is the work the only thing that worries you?”

“N-no…” Levi looked away, feigning distress. “We’ve been fighting with Hange…”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I think…” he sighed, lowering his head. He couldn’t lie while looking his mother in the eyes. “I think we’re going to break up, mom.”

Levi carefully looked at his mother beneath his hair. He expected her to be shocked, or, maybe, saddened. Her shoulders indeed were shaking, and Levi was ready to get up and comfort her, but then he gave her another look. She covered her mouth with a hand, but there were no tears in her eyes. No, instead, his mother seemed to be trying to keep herself from laughing.

Levi stared at her, utterly confused. “Mom?”

“I’m sorry, sorry,” a small laugh escaped her lips. “I just didn’t know that you can break up with someone, if you’ve never actually dated.”

“What?” Levi’s eyes widened. “You… you knew?”

“Of course, I did, honey,” Kuchel covered his hand with hers. “I knew it from the moment you’ve told me about this mysterious girl of yours.”

“Then why… why didn’t you tell me?”

Kuchel shrugged, a look of mischief in her eyes. “I wanted to see what you were going to do. Truth be told, I thought you’d just confess that it was a lie. But I guess I should have known that you wouldn’t give up so easily. And then you brought this girl,” her grin turned into a fond smile. “I watched you two together, bickering and teasing each other, and I saw… potential.”

“Potential?”

“You were comfortable with her. And she didn’t seem to care about your insults and constant scowls. You were good together, you seemed happy. And then I saw you kissing on the sofa in our living room. You were quite passionate, that’s for sure,” she winked. “So I decided to keep quiet. To see where it can lead to.”

“Shit,” Levi covered his eyes. “So you knew all this time…” he couldn’t wrap his head around it. “Kenny knows too?”

Kuchel chuckled. “Of course, no. Your uncle is a smart man, but he’s not quite as sharp as I am.”

“Thank fucking god he isn’t.” If Kenny knew about his idiotic plan, Levi wasn’t sure that he’d be able to survive the humiliation.

“Levi?” Kuchel looked him in the eyes. “You like Hange, don’t you?”

“Yeah… but it doesn’t matter.”

“Why not?”

“Because she doesn’t like me back.”

Kuchel smiled, getting to her feet and coming to stand in front of Levi. She put her hand on his cheek, gently caressing it. “Are you so sure about it, dear?”

“Of course I am,” Levi turned away from his mother’s eyes. “She already has someone.”

“She does?” Kuchel’s asked, her voice soft as silk.

“I… I think so.”

“Honey, why don’t you go and talk to her?” his mother proposed. “You won’t know how she feels about you, until you ask her.”

“But what if she doesn’t feel the same as I do?” Levi whispered.

Kuchel shrugged, ruffling his hair. “You accept it. You try to move on. You’d feel a lot worse if you don’t use this chance. Believe me, you’ll be regretting it for the rest of your life.”

“I… yeah, you’re right,” Levi nodded, feeling much better now. His mother was right, it was better to get rejected than tormenting yourself with ‘what ifs’. “I’ll go and see her now. Thank you,” he tightly embraced his mother.

“I’m always there for you, honey,” Kuchel smiled, squeezing Levi once before letting him go. “Now go. And call me afterwards! I’ll be waiting!”

“Of course,” Levi said and then left his office.

No matter the result, he was determined to tell Hange how he felt about her.

***

When Levi arrived at his apartment, Hange was in the middle of packing her things. Moblit was helping her with that, and when Levi showed up, he narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw, glaring at him.

Well, Levi wasn’t blaming him. After their last conversation, the guy had every reason to hate him. Levi needed to apologize to him.

But that could wait, he had to talk to Hange first. While he still had his resolve.

“Hange? Can we talk?” he asked her quietly. “In private,” he added, glancing at Moblit.

“I… of course,” Hange smiled. She turned to Moblit and they looked at each other, having a silent conversation. Hange smiled and squeezed his elbow. Moblit sighed, but evidently agreed to leave them alone. Before he walked out, he gave Levi another disapproving look.

“So? Did you tell your mother about our break-up?”

Levi shook his head. “I didn’t really need to.”

“Huh?” Hange frowned.

“She knew that all of it was a lie.”

“Ouch,” Hange winced. “What gave us away?”

“Nothing,” Levi said. “She knew it from the very beginning. Even before she met you.”

Hange chuckled awkwardly, scratching her neck. “You must be embarrassed.”

“Yeah, it sucks,” Levi agreed.

“So?” Hange put her hands in the pockets of her pants, looking as relaxed as ever. But Levi knew it wasn’t true. Her shoulders were tense and she was biting her lip, her eyes darting from one corner of the room to another. Never stopping at Levi. “This is a goodbye?”

“If you want it to be.”

“Huh?” Hange finally looked at him, confusion swirling in her gaze. “What do you mean, Levi?”

Levi clenched his fists. It was now or never.

He was going to do it, he was going to confess to Hange. Right fucking now.

However, as he looked into her eyes, he began to lose some of his courage. He turned away, coming to stand by a window.

“Before I met you…” he began, his voice quiet, but steady. “My life was quite miserable. I was so lonely and I couldn’t even admit it. But when you showed up, when you moved in with me, I started to realize that maybe I was wrong. That maybe I didn’t want to be alone. And when I was with you, I realized that I don’t have to be alone. I finally understood how good it felt to be with someone. And I know it was a lie, I know we’ve just pretended, but I’ve spent the whole month, desperately wishing for it to be true. I know that this is inappropriate and I know that you probably don’t feel the same, but I—”

“Levi,” Hange came up to him, grabbing his elbow and turning him around to look at him. “I have feelings for you too.”

“What? What kind of feelings? Do you m—”

“Levi,” Hange pressed a hand to his mouth, silencing him. “I have never thought I’d tell you that, but you’re talking too much,” she smiled, as she saw his glare. Now that was the Levi she knew. “And to answer your question – romantic ones. I like you, Levi.”

“Oh,” Levi was so surprised that he forgot to be annoyed by the fact that Hange pressed her probably dirty hand to his mouth. He could lecture her about it later. Now there was a more pressing matter. “So you like me? Not Moblit— or anyone else, but me?”

“Yes, dumbass,” Hange rolled her eyes. “I like you. Wait,” she looked at him closely, a sly grin on her lips. “You thought I liked Moblit? Were you jealous?”

Levi looked away, a stupid blush appearing on his cheeks. “I may have gotten into a fight with him. I… said things to him that I… that I shouldn’t have.”

“Oh god!” Hange doubled over with laughter, clutching at her sides. “That was why he was so angry with you! I knew something happened between you two, but he refused to tell me about it! I thought he had broken your favorite mug or something, but you were just jealous! Oh, Levi,” she straightened out, cupping his face in her hands. “You’re so adorable!”

“No one had ever called me that,” he replied gloomily. However, he didn’t move away, staring up at her.

“You know,” Hange leaned in. “This is definitely the part, where you kiss me.”

“Really?” Levi wrapped his hands around her waist. He rose to his tiptoes, so he could reach her lips. And then, finally, he kissed her.

It was a slow, languid and gentle kiss, different from the ones they’ve shared before. Those were needy and passionate, Levi liked them, but this one – oh, he could spend an eternity kissing Hange like this.

“Wow,” Hange breathed out, when they broke apart. She gingerly pressed her fingertips to her lips. Levi enjoyed the dazed look on her face. “That was… really good.”

Levi frowned. “You didn’t like our previous kisses?”

“No!” Hange hastily protested. “Those were awesome too! But this one, well, I didn’t know you could be so gentle.”

And, truth be told, neither did Levi. As it turned out, there were a lot of things he didn’t know about himself.

But with Hange by his side, maybe, he could figure it out.

#this one's longer than usually ladies #levihan #levihan fanfiction #levi and hange #levi x hanji #hange zoe #levi ackerman #hanji zoe #levi aot #levi snk #snk #Shingeki no Kyoijin #snk fanfiction #moblit berner

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shera-dnd · 3 years ago

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It’s here! The ultimate crossover poly ship we’ve all been waiting for!

But wait, there is more! This is a buy one get two deal, so there is a bonus crossover poly ship added there for free!

Also if you’d like your fic ideas to be written by me or just want to help me keep the lights on, consider donating to my ko-fi (rules over here)

alright with that out of the way. It’s time to enjoy some gay shit

“Sato, tell me again why we’re doing this,” Catra asked with a loud groan, shielding her face as best as she could.

It was a beautiful and sunny summer day at the park, and that meant Catra and Asami were suffering like the sad goths they were as they were dragged along by the ever cheerful Korra and Adora.

“Because we love them dearly,” Asami huffed, exhausted from the heat, “and we can’t just keep them inside all summer.”

“Ugh, are we going on a picnic with our girlfriends here, or walking our dogs?” Catra complained.

As if on cue Adora and Korra turned to look at them, energetically waving at them as they finally found a nice place to set up. Their smiles were so bright that Catra was happy she had put on sunscreen earlier.

“Both,” Asami said, adjusting her sunglasses.

Slowly they walked up to the over excited duo. Thankfully the two of them managed to find a nice patch of shade they could set up under, and not have to melt under the sun like a couple of angsty popsicles.

“Blanket?” Adora asked, promptly taking the leading and organizing position she was born for.

“Check!” Catra replied, getting a cheap picnic blanket from her bag.

“Water?”

“Check,” Korra answered, taking several bottles of water from her backpack.

“Sandwiches?”

“Check,” Asami said, before adding, “I made them.”

“And sodas?”

Korra shoved her arm back into her backpack and began yanking all the soda cans out with far too much enthusiasm. The three of them stopped and glared, getting her to stop before she could slam the cans down...again. As hilarious as it would have been to watch Korra accidentally spray herself again, they actually wanted to drink their sodas this time.

Adora gave them all a satisfied nod, before proudly declaring, “and with that, our picnic date is ready to start!”

“Wow, so romantic, Adora,” Catra rolled her eyes, “nothing makes a girl feel more special than a bunch of checklists.”

“Well I appreciate it when a girl comes prepared,” Asami countered, giving Adora a kiss on the cheek for support.

“Of course you do, Sato,” Catra shook her head and rolled her eyes.

The two of them stuck their tongues at each other for a bit, in what their girlfriends could only assume was their more...unique approach to flirting.

Deciding now was a good time to change the topic away from those two dorks, Korra approached the trio with her arms behind her back.

“Hey, Adora,” she called, earning a glare from Catra, who had nearly patented that line, “you sure we aren’t missing something?”

Adora checked her list a second time, even rereading the things she brought there herself, “I don’t think so?”

Korra smiled as she brought her hands forward, revealing the football she had been hiding behind her. Adora’s hands flew to her mouth to contain a gasp, and looked up at Korra as if she had just whipped out a wedding ring. Catra and Asami were extremely unimpressed.

They barely got to finish setting up before those two darted off to go run around and throw that ball like the pair of adorable goofballs they were.

“Looks like it’s just the two of us again, Applesauce,” Asami commented, sitting comfortably in the shade.

“Yup,” Catra nodded, sitting next to her. She allowed a long pause to pass by before adding, “wanna makeout?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Asami replied, scooting closer and hooking her arms around Catra’s neck.

Catra leaned in, lips slightly parting as they came closer to Asami’s… before being so rudely interrupted by Korra clearing her throat. The two edgy idiots looked up at her, seeing her and Adora standing over them with crossed arms.

“Don’t we do this every day at school?” Korra asked, brow raised in annoyance.

“Yeah,” Catra replied, refusing to move away from Asami, “your point?”

“This is a date,” Adora added, hitting them with her most powerful puppy dog eyes, “can’t you guys please play with us for a bit?”

Both of them groaned and looked at each other. Asami looked ready to give in at the slightest hint of that adorable face, but Catra had years of experience with saying no to it.

“Yeah, I’m not doing that,” Catra answered.

“Oh well,” Adora sighed, “you asked for it.”

They were barely given a moment to process what that meant, before Korra and Adora hoisted them up, and tossed them over their shoulders like sacks of potatoes. Asami yelped loudly, but accepted her fate. Catra, on the other hand, kicked and screamed the entire way, nearly punching Adora in the face more than once.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” She shouted, “put me down, or I fucking swear!”

Adora simply laughed as she carried her girlfriend along to the nice open space where they were playing just a moment ago.

“Only if you promise to play with us,” she replied.

“Fine!” Catra yelled, “just put me down!”

Adora gently put her down and shot her a beaming smile. Oh she was lucky she was so cute, or Catra would have kicked her ass right now. Instead she just adjusted her clothes, fixed her hair so it would be the correct kind of messy, and huffed.

“So what exactly are you making us play?”

“We don’t need to play an actual game,” Korra answered, “we just wanted to have fun with you guys.”

Catra seemed unconvinced. They should have known she wouldn’t participate if she couldn’t make a competition out of it.

“Okay, how about this,” Adora offered, “we split into teams of two, and we try to just toss the ball between team members without letting the other two catch it. Whoever keeps the ball with their team the longest wins. Sounds fun for you?”

Catra pondered for a moment, seeming satisfied with these terms of engagement she declared, “I’m on team Korra!”

“What!?” Adora exclaimed, her expression one of utter and absolute betrayal, “why?”

“She’s the tallest one here,” Catra explained, casually, “it’s an obvious tactical advantage.”

“By an inch!” Adora countered, still stunned that Catra would ever abandon her like this...again.

“Don’t worry, Adora,” Asami said, putting a hand on her shoulder for reassurance, “we’ll make sure she regrets that”.

Oh no. Korra and Adora looked at each other as they both realized that they may have made a terrible mistake.

What followed was easily the most intense game of keepaway any of them had ever played. Though intensity was just about the only thing Catra and Asami were providing for this match up. Not that the other two minded much - they were genuinely just happy to play with their girlfriends for once - but they were starting to worry one of them was gonna end up doing something stupid.

It wasn’t long until they were proven right. Catra caught a ball meant for Adora and instead of throwing it to Korra, she decided the best strategy was to just run for it. The three of them watched stunned as she bolted off into the park like she was being chased by the hounds of hell. Asami gave chase soon after, so the assumption wasn’t all wrong.

Korra and Adora just stood there, watching as their girlfriends ran after each other, shouting insults at one another.

“We should have known that was gonna happen,” Adora commented with a defeated sigh.

“Well, at least we got them to exercise for once,” Korra offered.

“Yeah,” she nodded, watching those two for just a bit longer before adding, “wanna make out?”

“Sure,” Korra shrugged, “not like they’re gonna be back any time soon.”

~~~

Korra leaned back and closed her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy the cool breeze that blew past their little spot. She took a nice, long sip of her soda and let out a satisfied sigh. Yeah, this picnic was just what she needed.

“Water,” groaned the mostly dead girl to her side.

Catra laid there, sprawled face down on the picnic blanket, barely able to do anything but groan, and complain after completely draining herself like that. She couldn’t help but laugh a little, playing with her girlfriend’s hair before handing her the much needed cold water.

The poor girl groaned something sounding almost similar to a thank you, before chugging the whole bottle down in record time and then flopping back to her sprawled position.

“So what did we learn?” Adora asked, with that particular tone she had at times that made Korra wonder if she ever considered becoming a teacher one day.

“Never to exercise again,” Catra answered.

“No,” she corrected, “don’t over exert yourself

“Also don’t wear all black to a picnic,” Korra added, “I’m surprised you two didn’t cook alive.”

“We did,” Asami replied.

“And that’s why we brought all this water,” Adora said proudly as she handed Asami her own water bottle.

“What would we do without you?” Asami praised.

“We wouldn’t have gone out in this fucking heat that’s for sure,” Catra complained.

“Can you do something other than complain?” Asami asked.

“No,” she replied without a second of hesitation, “also scoot over, you’re hogging all the shade.”

“Sorry, Applesauce, but I won. I hold all the shade privileges now,” she proudly declared, earning a weak little kick from a completely burned out Catra.

“Don’t be like that,” Adora sighed and crawled closer to her girlfriend. She ran her fingers through Catra’s hair, scratching her in this very particular way that only Adora knew how to do, and soon it was like angry asshole Catra had never been there, now replaced with just soft asshole Catra.

“Asami is right,” Catra said, sounding so content with everything, “what would we do without you?”

“Oh, are we showing her some love now?” Korra asked, scooting closer and hugging Adora from behind, “mind if I join in? ‘Cause I got plenty.”

Following her example the other two joined in the PDA, Asami leaning against her shoulder, and Catra resting her head on her lap. Adora looked like she was on the verge of tears.

“Y-You guys,” she whined, trying not to crumble into an emotional mess, “I love you so much.”

“We love you too,” Korra answered, kissing her cheek. The others hummed in agreement.

“This means a lot,” she replied, sniffing loudly, “but you’re all really sweaty and it’s way, way too hot for PDA right now.”

Korra and Asami muttered some agreements and promptly moved away, fanning themselves a little to help cool down. Catra, on the other hand, refused to move and in fact even pressed a little closer.

“Are you gonna move?” Adora asked, amused.

“Nope,” Catra replied, “you’re too comfortable.”

Not wanting to disturb this rare moment of peace, Adora accepted her fate, and returned to her duty as Catra’s primary source of scratches.

After that initial burst of energy the rest of the day was surprisingly peaceful. Well, besides a small argument over who had the worst taste in music, and who should or shouldn’t be allowed to have the aux cord. But other than that it was a calm and peaceful day.

Slowly but surely, the shade grew a bit longer and the day grew a bit colder. Night was about to fall, and it was time to move to part two of their wonderful summer date. Milkshakes at the diner. Korra’s kinda sorta aunt Kya ran the place with her wives, so she let Korra and all her friends - and girlfriends - hangout for as long as they wanted.

The four of them greeted Kya before taking their usual table. Catra did not waste a single second trying to sit like a normal person, she promptly tossed her legs over Adora’s lap, and leaned back against the wall, phone already in hand.

“Hey, look at that,” she commented, “Blight dyed her hair purple.”

“Maybe she decided green hair was too straight for her,” Korra joked, “I’m surprised she didn’t go with blue.”

“Well, I think purple works really well for her,” Adora commented, “I mean, all her clothes are already black and purple.”

“All of your clothes are white or red, but I don’t see you dying your hair,” Catra commented, archiving the mental image of redhead Adora for later.

Adora opened her mouth to argue, but was interrupted by Asami, “babe, your hair is wonderful, don’t let her bully you into doing something stupid with it.”

Catra looked ready to throw her phone, “hey, I aint bullying anyone!”

“I see you kids are as cheerful as ever,” Castaspella greeted as she reached them, putting their food on the table, “here are your milkshakes, and the fries are on the house.”

“We really don’t mind paying for it, aunt Casta,” Korra assured her.

“Nonsense, let us spoil you kids a little,” Casta replied, with a wave, “besides, consider this a little thank you for helping our niece get a date.”

“Wait!” Catra interrupted, very confused for a moment, “Amity is your niece?”

“No, silly, I meant Luz,” she chuckled, “she was so in love with that Blight girl that she wouldn’t stop talking to Lilith about how amazing she was. It was adorable.”

Adora blinked a couple of times as she realized that meant that Luz and Glimmer were technically related now. She then vowed to herself to neverr let them find out, their power and chaos combined would be far too much for the world.

“Uh, glad we could help I guess?” Korra offered with a weak smile, completely unaware of the small crisis going on in Adora’s head. Aunt Casta laughed a little at the awkwardness, before leaving to tend to the other tables.

And now that they were left alone it was time to dig in. As usual Adora practically inhaled her food, and had to be stopped by Catra before she choked on something. Also as usual they were all dipping their fries in their milkshakes, with the sole exception of Asami.

“I still don’t know how you guys manage to eat that,” she commented.

Adora loudly swallowed a whole portion of milkshake covered fries in one go - earning an exasperated sigh from Catra - and answered, “it’s good!”

“Is it though?”

“What? Is this unsuitable for your refined palate, princess?” Catra teased.

“It’s…weird,” she replied.

“Hey, I’m weird, and you still love me,” Korra commented, leaning a little closer to her.

“You know what I meant,” she complained even as she leaned back against Korra.

“Don’t you wanna at least give it a try?” Korra asked, offering one of her own fries, “for me?”

That was a cheap trick, and Korra knew it, but it worked. Asami leaned in and took a bite of those fries without even taking them from Korra’s hand. There was a certain romance to eating food from your lover’s hands, or at least there would be if her two other lovers weren’t being little shits and snickering the entire time.

Asami glared at the two of them as she slowly ate her fries, trying to properly savor them, to fully grasp their flavor profile. Adora did a little heart with her hands and blew her a kiss in an attempt to mitigate her annoyance.

It worked better than she would like to admit.

“So how is it?” Korra asked.

Asami swallowed and paused, seeming to ponder her answer for a moment. “It was...better than I expected.”

Korra laughed and shot her a beaming smile, “told you it was good.”

Asami couldn’t respond for a moment as she was too busy being reminded that Korra was a blessing to humanity, and that she was so lucky to be able to call her her girlfriend.

“Well uh...thanks for making me try it,” she mumbled. Trying her best to save herself before Catra and Adora - especially Catra - could make any comments on her loss of composure, Asami dipped one of her fries on her milkshake and offered it to Korra, “here.”

Korra eagerly and happily took a bite off of it.

“That’s so fucking gay,” Catra commented.

“Catra, we’ve all been dating for months,” Adora countered.

“Yeah, your point?” She asked, sticking her tongue out at her.

“You’re the worst, you know that?” Asami replied.

“Complain all you want, princess. You all love me, and you know it.”

The table collectively groaned - Asami burying her head in her hand - all fully aware that she was completely right.

~~~

Eventually the conversation died down. It was late and they had spent all day with each other, but they all knew they’d have to part ways eventually. They all knew they’d probably see each other tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, and every day for as long as they could. But that didn’t mean they enjoyed bringing the date to a close.

Adora especially seemed extra clingy today as she gave all three of her girlfriends tight, rib-crushing hugs. The others were far more subtle about it, but it was still there. In the lingering touches after a hug, the yearning looks after a kiss. It was that unspoken want to stay just a little longer, to never let go.

Maybe one day they’d all walk together to their own home, and cuddle together in their own bed, but today they all had different places to return to and they had to go their separate ways. In the end only Korra was left standing in front of the diner.

“Hey, kid,” aunt Kya called, “you want a ride back to your parent’s place?”

“You really don’t--”

“What did Casta say about letting us spoil you?” She interrupted. There was no arguing with her.

Next thing Korra knew she was in Kya’s car, watching the lamp posts pass by them as she took her home.

“You should bring them over more often,” Kya commented.

“I’ll try,” Korra replied.

“I’m serious,” she insisted, “you know we all love when you bring the girls over. It reminds us of the good old days.”

“The good old days?” Korra asked, somewhat amused.

“Back when we were your age,” she explained, “back then it wasn’t exactly okay for a girl to want to be with another girl, let alone two. But even then we knew we wanted nothing more than to be together, just the three of us, for as long as life would let us.”

Korra thought back to that idea of sharing a place with them, living every day with them, making days like this the norm. It all sounded so wonderful.

“Yeah,” she replied, “I think I get it.”

#spop #shera #avatar the legend of korra #atlok #the owl house #toh #catra #adora #catradora #korra #asami sato #korrasami #adora x asami x catra x korra #crossover #castaspella x lilith x kya #modern au #high school au #fanfic

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