#two years ago I went to my parents’ house to escape and to cope

[barmadumet]

Today I wrote about two thousand words. I also deleted about two thousand words (elsewhere in the fic). So, I remain at 120k on the “ferus fic” that I am determined to start posing within the next few months. We shall see.

[saltyfishdream]

Let's say that I was glad I didn't discover AO3 until the summer before I went to secondary school, or nobody would ever know how tainted I would’ve become due to excess consumption of fanfiction from a large variety of animanga fandoms.

Since I was a kid, I tend to be full-blown obsessed with nearly every single fandom I stumble upon, so for a few months you’d see me having my personality revolved around some anime series— until the series ended on TV and a new one was aired. Then I’d just quickly move on with a new (un)healthy obsession on the new series, and repeat the procedure until literally the end of time if the TV didn’t break down when I was in fifth grade. I definitely did not scream or stomp or cry or throw tantrums to my parents for weeks on end then (before my parents introduced me to something that took me into the world of fandoms, that was another long story).

In first grade I was obsessed with Yowamushi Pedal and the first arc of Tanken Driland: Sennen no Mahō. That was when I had my first ever anime crush that everyone who knew me would’ve called me “delulu” if the word was invented in 2014. Yes, you heard me Mom. I will finally admit that I had a crush on Onoda Sakamichi back when I was six years old so you can never tease me about it again. (inserts villainous laugh)

In second grade it was Haikyuu and the second arc of Sennen no Mahō; Pokémon throughout the whole third grade as I was obsessed with Pokémon Go that year, while I watched some reruns of other series I had watched before; and Digimon Universe (with a healthy mix of Haikyuu if I remember it correctly) in fourth. I also remember watching two or three shojo anime series and a gajillion more sports anime but none of them left a deep enough impression on me to remember.

I thought my obsession levels were quite normal back then, at most rushing back home by 5pm on Thursdays and Fridays so as to not miss a beat of that 20-minute episode (with ten minutes of ads) and throwing tantrums when I was late for an episode but there was no way I could immediately turn on a TV to watch it. Or solely talking about that one series I was watching back then and never other topics— and if my friends didn't watch the same anime as I did, they weren't my friends at all.

But then a few months ago I decided it was about time that I wanted to experience some first-hand cringe nostalgia myself by reading all my writing homework back when I had extra English classes. To my surprise, ninety-nine percent of them were fanfiction. Most of that portion consisted of Pokémon and Digimon Universe as I only had sufficient vocabulary to write decent enough stories starting from third grade, but I did spot a few Haikyuu and Yowamushi Pedal references from earlier works. And my teachers back then did not care. Maybe they weren't interested in what I watched that they didn’t even take note of the Japanese names I used for the characters.

Boy, I am sure that I could've been the youngest fanfiction writer on AO3 if I discovered the site earlier. Like, imagine, when most people started writing in their early teens I would’ve been on there since I was eight. My parents said that I was literally addicted when I asked them about my history with anime as a kid.

However, my obsession did help me as a coping mechanism then. I would say that I was a happy kid in primary school, although my experience getting along with other kids and my teachers suggested otherwise. The details were already blurry, but I’m quite sure it was nothing close to good. I guess I would’ve gone insane or became depressed if there wasn’t a thing like anime that could anchor me to life. Then I realised that I wasn’t stupid back then to grow oblivious to my mistreatment. I was just escaping. Anime was a safe haven to me as a child. And I never knew it.

Everything took a turn for the better for the past few years of secondary school. We got a new TV after moving house, but I stopped watching anime after having a few new friends and a brand-new obsession with Percy Jackson. Nothing went terribly wrong. I may not be the most popular kid on the block, but I at least have friends. My grades are quite decent. I became the vice chairperson of a club. I should be happier than I was in primary school.

Sike, no. Everything went crashing down as my mental health hit rock bottom over the summer. To put it down to three words, I was hopeless. And in the nick of time I remembered one of my friends recommending an anime series— Blue Lock to be exact— to me right before everything in my mind was going to be worse than ever.

So that night I binged a few episodes, just to distract myself from my feelings long enough to hold out to the next morning.

Then— BOOM— I was staying up until 3am, reading every single fanfic I could comprehend on AO3 and spending every waking moment dedicated to the fandom instead of studying for that very important test a few days later.

You can say that it's just a hyperfixation from my autism, but some things just never change. I don't want it to change.

[russett-pots]

CUM ft. Minju

Innocent girl went home with you plot quickie please

Cum ft. Minju

Kim Minju

Fluff

TW: small mentions of bullying

My first request, hope you'll enjoy this. If you want a smut version just tell me.

“Minju, is this your home? It is pretty far from school.”

“Yup, thank you, Oppa, for dropping me off. I was scared when I was accidentally got locked in the janitor's closet.”

You pause there for a second. Minju's eyes start to wander downward. It wasn’t an accident that she was locked in it. Her classmates locked it as soon as she stepped in. They laugh as they hear her desperate cries for help.

“Are you okay?” you ask, seeing her minor bruises from trying to bang the door and hoping to see if anyone could hear her.

She pulls them out, shouts the red scuff marks that taint her immaculate skin. “I guess I am. Thanks to you.”

You can still see her eyes, crusted with the salt that remained from her tears. “Here, wait.” You pull out your handkerchief and wipe off the rest of her tears. Soon, more appear, slowly escaping the tear ducts that created them.

She pulls down your hand. “Oppa, I have something to tell.”

“Hmmm?”

“I don’t know if this is the best time to say this. But…” She freezes, stuttering, trying to spit out any words.

“Yes, Minju? You were saying something?”

“I…”

“I like you… You don’t have to say anything. I just..” That’s she cannot handle it anymore. She runs to the gate of her house, desperately trying to open it.

But her struggling just cannot stop you from doing anything; you go to her, tapping on her shoulder.

“Minju, I like you too.” You cup her face and gently push your lips against hers.

You always tried to take care of her. Subtly, doing nice things but without showing it off to everyone in the world. Her innocent nature just wants you to protect her in this cruel world.

Gently pulling away from you, she opens her mouth again. “Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?” Her eye closed at the most stalkerish request she even said.

Your dad is gone, still buying milk ten years ago. Mom lost her sanity when your dad left. She resorted to alcohol and drugs to cope, using you as someone to blame when she lost her husband.

“I’m sure my parents won’t mind.”

Minju's eyes, millimeter by millimeter open, relieved that she got a yes. She pulls you in with her. Her mansion of a house allows you to enter its premises. She rings the bell and opens the large wooden door carved beautifully like Minju.

“Ms. Minju, welcome back.” An elderly woman wearing a uniform greets her.

“Thank you, imo….” Minju eyes drop, heart sinks. “Oppa, this is imo, my maid.”

“Ms. Minju, your dad, is still at the office and will be departing for his working trip right after, and your mom already took her flight to Hong Kong t….”

“I know, to meet for the movie shoot...” Minju drags her feet with still her school bag on her right shoulder.

“Minju, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She stops, looks at you. “Can you come with me?”

“Ms. Minju, do you want anything to eat?”

“No, it is okay, imo.”

Her maid leaves her, still concerned about her but knows when to leave Minju alone.

Minju leads you up the grand staircase, with a sophisticated chandelier in the middle hanging from the ceiling. Banisters lined with engravings that can only be described as alluring. Now two doors down, she stops, puts her hand on the knob, and turns it.

Her bedroom is gigantic. This, plus her on-suite bathroom, is already bigger than your own house. Her king-size bed is full of stuffed animals in the middle of the room, with four tall wooden vertical posters in each corner. The mattress lined up white lined sheets enough for a princess like her.

Her wardrobe is big enough to fit clothes for all seasons plus more. Next to it is a make-up table with a lightbulb surrounding the vanity. Brands like MAC, L’Oreal, and Chanel are neatly set on the side.

As she walks inside and tosses her bag on her chair, she turns at you. “Oppa, are you happy?”

However, flabbergasted by her question, you respond composed “Only with you.”

Her eyes water, tears slowing again. A sight you do not want to see. She runs to you, hugging you, her head buried in your chest. At this point, crying turns sobbing.

You stroke her silky smooth hair, rub her back and embrace this tiny treasure that needs you.

She looks upon you. Her face shines despite the harsh reality that she lives in. “I don’t want to do this to anyone else but with you. Can you turn me a woman?”

[after-witch]

Baby Mine [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Title: Baby Mine [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Synopsis:  The first time you laid eyes on your child, you knew: You had to get out. Set in the ‘White Picket Fence’-verse. 

For request: Something with Overhaul + the reader’s children and manipulation (I’m sorry I accidentally deleted the original message so I don’t remember the exacting wording!)

Word Count: 3328

notes: yandere, stockholm syndrome, abuse

From the instant you laid eyes on your daughter, the moment your gaze took in her fresh, wet skin and her small, blinking, uncomprehending eyes, you knew: you had to get the fuck away from Chisaki Kai.

The realization was instant, like a flash, peeling away years of manipulation and training and forced self-acceptance of your situation. Years of justifications and excuses that had wormed their way under your skin, forcing you to see the bright side, to see his side, and let yourself get wrapped up in its candy-coated, fluffy cotton bullshit--gone, ripped away with brutal, exacting force. All that was left was the stark realization, a single driving force shoving you forward: you and your daughter were going to get out.

That was four years ago.

Four years of agonizing pretending. Of forcing yourself to put back on the coat you'd worn before, the false version of yourself that loved him and accepted him and excused everything he ever did to you. It was hard. It was harder to pretend that you accepted this than to actually accept it, to indulge in his control. But every time your resolve weakened, it only took a glance at your child to remind you of why you couldn't just give in.

You had to get out, not for yourself, but for her. To give her a normal life. A life where she could be free, where she could have friends, where she could run outside and not be limited to the house or, if the weather was nice, the secure, high-fenced backyard that Kai had only built within the last year.

Four years of pretending. Four years of planning. And, most difficult of all, four years of waiting. Trust was not easily given by Chisaki Kai, even to the mother of his child.

So you waited.

You waited for Kai to move you two--no, three now--into a house, a real house; not in a populated suburb (another broken promise that you swallowed deep, deep down) but an offshoot of some protected compound in a remote area, where it could be secure and guarded. But what mattered is that its doors connected to the outside, not to some unknown underground bunker.  You could manage, if you were connected to the outside.

You waited for Kai to ease up on the restrictions that built up around you during your pregnancy, rules to keep you under a far more watchful eye, rules that made it harder to find a way out. Inches of trust, gradually earned, which made it possible for you to think concretely about escape.

You waited for your daughter to get old enough to run, old enough to survive without needing to be fed every few hours, old enough to know how to stay quiet when told. Watching her grow up only made you want to leave, more. She had a personality now. Stubborn but accepting when she knew she wouldn’t win; sweet in her own way, an unusual way, likely one that came from a lack of interaction with anyone but her parents and a handful of trusted Shie Hassaikai members.

It was one of those trusted members--you never have learned their name, a secret Kai (nor they) were willing to give--that would be your key to escape.

 They loved your daughter, too, in time. They were drawn in by her precociousness, her insistence on formalities and pleases and thank-yous. But it was her bubbliness and inherent interest in the world and people around her that made them decide to love her, too.Her big eyes and bubbling laugh when you two were allowed in the yard, sometimes under this member’s supervision. 

To your daughter’s delight, they didn’t simply watch you like the handful of others did; they joined in the fun. Just a few weeks ago, she’d convinced him to push her so high on the swing set that she’d gone all the way around--even your heart briefly froze until she’d emerged on the other side, cackling with delight, safe and sound.

They were loyal to Overhaul. Of that there was no doubt. Had they killed for him? Maimed? Tortured? You tried not to think about the things that were done in Overhaul’s name.

Yet they’d betrayed him, all for the sake of your daughter. Part of you feels bitter that they wouldn’t betray him for the sake of you--but then, what was that saying? Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

It was with their help that you were finally able to secure that last necessary piece of the puzzle for your escape: getting out of the secured, monitored gate surrounding the house unnoticed. He told you in hushed, intense tones that he would be on watch duty the night of your escape, that he would take care of the other member assigned that night, and that all you had to do was get out the door at the agreed time with your bag, your daughter, and a good pair of walking shoes. He would drive you as far as he could, and then you two would run, run, run after that.

It was going to work. Your daughter was going to live her life, a real life, not one carefully constructed in captivity. What would you do first, once you were free? The thoughts sometimes made you so giddy that you pinched yourself to calm down. So close, so close to the finish line, and you must be vigilant.

Tonight. You and your daughter are going to leave tonight.

Your daughter is in her bed, tucked in safe and secure. Her eyes are already closed, and Kai is sitting at the edge of the mattress, as always, smoothing down her hair and pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. You watch from the doorway with your arms casually crossed, a small, tired, end-of-the-night smile on your lips. It's all so normal, so domestic, isn't it.

"Good night," he says, so soft and sweet that, if you hadn't been pulled out of your deluded coping mechanism, you might find it endearing. Instead, your thoughts scream: This will be the last time you ever see her, you fucked up piece of shit bastard. Oh, do you have a potty mouth when your 'husband' can't hear you...

He leaves your daughter to her dreams and clicks off the little lamp on her nightstand. When he crosses the doorway, you make room and he lets you slide your arm around his, linking yourselves together for the walk to your shared bedroom.

"Tired?" He asks, and you nod. You are tired. Not for the reasons he thinks, and not for the reasons you'll give, but the telltale darkness under your eyes belies the stress of planning your escape from a years-long ordeal.

You sigh, as soft and sweet as his voice was earlier. "Mmhmm. She didn't want to focus on her lessons today. I got a bit frustrated. Sometimes I don't think I'm cut out to be a teacher." By now you're in your bedroom and you casually take off your day clothes, dropping them in the labeled hamper in front of the closet. Your stomach twinges with the memory of how he used to look away when you took off your clothes.

But that was long ago, and now he continues the conversation casually as the pair of you strip and change into your respective pajamas. You slip a pink nightie with ruffled bottom over your head as he

"You just need more practice. Are you reading the lesson books before you start class?"

I wouldn't have to read any lesson books if you let her out of this house, if you let her out of school, if you weren't--you stop your thoughts, afraid that they might show on your face. Afraid that you might lose everything at this last, crucial moment.

But you know you look frustrated, so you roll with it. "Yes," you say, voice just the right amount of annoyed in retort. "But if she doesn't want to sit down and focus, me reading the lesson beforehand isn't really going to help, is it?"

He stares at you, and you wonder in a flash if you went too far. But in the next moment, he's simply continuing to button up his shirt. "Is it going to help our daughter learn if you take out your bad day on your husband?" His voice is dripping with the natural condescension that once had you questioning whether or not it was okay to be upset that he'd kidnapped you, and you hate it. But at least it's a sign that he bought your excuses.

You feel a warm flush of shame at the way his condescension still makes you feel less-than. You slide yourself into bed, under the covers, instinctively grabbing the book on your end table and staring down into it like you could simply disappear inside the pages. You can't mess up anything right now. The weight of what you need to do tonight feels so heavy and you can't stop your hands from trembling slightly.

"Sorry," you whisper, voice thick with emotion. "It's just hard sometimes. I feel in over my head."

It's Kai's turn to slide under the covers, though he doesn't bother grabbing his own book. Instead he gently pushes on your hands until you set the book on the covers. You know he wants you to look at him, so you do. He looks so gentle, so calm. Did he kill anyone today? Did he insult some hapless victim who crossed his organization, spewing venom with his words, before kissing your daughter goodnight hours later?

His gloved hands tip your chin up and it's a familiar feeling, an intimate feeling, when he pulls you in for a kiss. When he pulls away, he's smiling softly, indulgently. You aren't in trouble. You're good.

"I'll come home for lessons tomorrow and see what I can do. Would you like that?"

I'd like you to drop dead and make this easier on us, you think.

"Yes, Kai."

You smile. You nod. You let out a shaky sigh and lean your shoulders against his, picking up your book and signaling an end to the crisis. He lets you read quietly for a while before turning off the lamp on his side of the bed; it's a wordless signal that you already know: time to sleep. You're a dutiful wife and you put your book away and turn off your lamp and then turn back to your husband and whisper,

"Good night, Kai."

**

You wait until he's deep asleep to ease your way out of the bed. Every step you take in your padded socks makes you cringe. Will the floor creak? Will you make too much noise? Will you have to come up with a half-assed excuse as he comes to, groggily asking what you're doing? You feel like you can't breathe, but you do breathe, soft and shallow as you make your way to the bedroom door.

 You didn't dare keep anything related to your escape in your shared bedroom. The door feels like it weighs a thousand pounds as you ever-so-slowly open it, keeping your head turned towards the man sleeping on the bed all the while. He doesn't stir. He simply continues to snore, even as the door opens enough for you to slip out.

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you cross the hallway and into the spare room that you used as a playroom and, lately, a makeshift school. The bag you packed is in the closet, tucked behind bags of school supplies that you'd asked Kai to pick up in order to make sure that your escape bag didn't stand out. You grab it swiftly, along with your daughter's outdoor shoes, and make your way to the most dangerous element of your escape: your daughter's room.

She did so well. You remind yourself to praise her once you're away from the house, once you're in a car and making noise isn't a life or death dilemma. You built up the idea of your escape bit by bit over the past few weeks. You couldn't tell her that her father was a monster who kidnapped you, but you could prey on her desire to see more, to go beyond the rules established in her father's domain.

Don't you want to meet other kids? Go to the beach, feel the sand underneath your feet? Meet... your grandma? We'll just take a secret trip, you and me, and then come back to Papa when we're done. Then he'll see that it's safe to leave and come with us next time. But you have to keep it a secret. You can't tell him a thing, or we won't be able to go. You can keep a secret, can't you?

You kneel next to your daughter's bed and gently wake her up, whispering her name and stroking her hair, so she slowly opens her eyes in confusion before her gaze lands on your face and ah, a smile--it's just mom.

"Mama?" She asks, a bit too loudly for your liking.

"Shh baby," you say. "Yes, it's mama. Are you ready to go?" You see the tentativeness, the childish confusion in the way she nods. She doesn't know what real life is yet, she doesn't have an inkling of the freedom that she's lost, but she will.

You don't bother changing. You have a pair of clothes in the bag and you'll change when you're in a safer space. For now, you take her hand and lead her down the staircase, your chest tightening with every step. You can't help but glance back at the still-open doorway leading to your bedroom. You pray to whatever is listening that he won't wake up. Each step is a step closer to freedom. Each step is a terrifying risk that you or she might slip, might make noise, might wake him up.

Your spirits lift when you reach the bottom of the stairs. All you have to do is get out the door and he'll be waiting there with the key and a getaway car and freedom.

You clutch your daughter's hand, your own palm now sweaty; you nearly trip on a toy you forgot to pick up earlier, but thankfully the light in the entryway was turned on (you must have forgotten to turn it off) and you see it just in time to avoid disaster. You squeeze your daughter hand and turn the corner that leads to the entryway of your home--

Where Chisaki Kai is standing, waiting for you, his eyes practically illuminated by the glowing lamp light.

You drop the bag.

"No," you say. "No." Your mind suddenly feels fuzzy, like its buzzing, drowning out all of your thoughts with a pure denial of what you see in front of you.

"How--how did you--" you sputter, unable to continue voicing your question. It was all planned. It was all practiced. You pretended, you waited, you planned--for four years. How? How did he know?

He doesn't have to answer. You know the moment that your daughter's grip slips out of your hand and she runs up to her father, feet thumping on the floor. She clings to his side and doesn't look at you, and he runs a hand through her hair without taking his eyes away from your shaking form.

Of course she told him. Of course she told her papa that you wanted to leave. She loved him. Why wouldn't she? It was all she'd ever known. You were breaking the rules, breaking the structure that dominated her life since she could remember. 

"Please don't be mad at me, mama." Your daughter whimpers against Kai, and you can hear the tears in her little voice, and your heart aches for her in so many ways.

"I'm not," you whisper. "I'm not mad at you, baby." You're just sad, so sad. It hurts. All of it.

"Sweetheart," Kai says, voice surprisingly calm despite the events, "go back to bed while I help your mother unpack your things, all right?"

Your daughter nods and suddenly she's against you, hugging you in a tight, childish way; you only have enough energy to pull your arm around her, limp and heavy, patting her back without really feeling it before she scampers up the stairs.

You're left alone. With him.

He approaches you slowly and you feel like an animal. There's wildness hammering in your heart and the thought comes up, unwillingly: could you still run? Escape on your own? And hope that some day, your daughter escapes and finds you? But the thought of leaving her behind is impossible to indulge in for more than a second, and you know that without her, your life isn't worth living. The thought of abandoning her to Kai Chisaki brings up an immediate sense of revulsion and guilt and shame.

"What were you thinking?"

You aren't looking at him, but you don't have to be looking at him to know that he's glaring at you. Looking down on you with his gaze filled with righteous justifications. You glance and--yes, he is, but there's something darker, something you’d forgotten, underneath. Your stomach suddenly feels loaded with weights and your legs move backwards, pulling you away from him, away from the anger that feels like it's radiating off him in waves.

He suddenly grips your chin with brutal force and yanks your jaw forward, forcing you to look at him.

"I had to kill one of my most trusted men today because of your..." His eyes dart back and forth for a moment, before he spits out the apparently perfect description of your escape attempt. "Hysteria. An absolute waste of potential, all because of your ridiculousness."

Your mouth is dry. Your voice is hoarse. But you speak up, anyway. You've already lost everything.

"It's not ridiculous to want to get out of here." 

The weight of the years seems to press down on your shoulders, pounding into your bones, screaming in your ears. 

"It's not ridiculous to--to want to take my daughter away from the man who kidnapped me and forced me to pretend like I was happy here, like I was happy living in some--" you cough, needing moisture, but not daring to stop to swallow lest you lose your courage. "--glorified dollhouse while you tell me what to do and what to wear and how to act and when to fuck you and when to have a baby and fuck you, fuck you, just fuck you Kai. I hate you. Oh I fucking hate you."

You don't notice as your voice gets louder, emboldened by the adrenaline that's been crashing through you since you opened the bedroom door, until his hand is gripping your upper arm in a show of brute, vise-length strength.

"Lower. your. voice." 

His grip strengthens until you cry out, and then it gradually loosens without letting you go completely.

For the next few moments, you do nothing but stare at one another. Your mind feels hazy, darting from thought to thought. It was all for nothing. The last four years, all for nothing. But you think about your daughter, about what she may have been able to accomplish outside of these walls, and even the fantasy of a free life for her made it worth something--didn't it?

It's his voice that lowered, now, as he lets you go completely and straightens himself up. All business now. But what business will he engage in, this time?

"Perhaps you do need a vacation," he says, finally. Firmly. He's made a decision.

You wonder if he's lost his mind and you're about to ask as much before he continues.

"Did you know this house has a secret room? It's nice and quiet. The perfect place for you to recuperate until you've regained your senses."

The room, the room, the room.

Your hand instinctively claps against your mouth as you cry out.

After all, you don't want to wake your daughter up with your screams.

[thevampiresiren]

Gone Too Soon

Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

Genre: ANGST, Fluff, Smut

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: You and Leon end up having a miscarriage and he heavily blames himself. Now he wants to try again.

WARNINGS: miscarriage, cursing, alochol as a coping mechanism, depression, self doubt, oral sex (m&f), fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (stay safe my friends!)

A/N: I know this is a VERY touchy subject. I personally have never had a miscarriage but I know someone who has so this may not be 100% accurate. Also this is my first time writing smut so sorry if it sucks😅

Lennox is pronounced Len (rhymes with pen) nox (Nyx like the makeup brand or Nick's)

Leon never really wanted to have kids. With your all's job and the world that everyone was living in with B.O.W.s and death knocking on the door, the last thing he ever wanted was bringing another life into it. So when you first told him you were pregnant, it didn't settle well with him. Leon didn't see himself as the parenting type and the thought of something happening to you or the baby terrified him. But now that you both had accepted it and you were now 7 weeks pregnant, Leon couldn't be happier. He was always rubbing and littering your lower belly with kisses, telling it how much he loved the little being growing inside of you.

"I hope we have a girl." Leon said while you two were laying in bed. His right hand was gently rubbing your belly while he had his left arm around you, pulling you to his chest.

"As long as they have your blue eyes, I don't care what we have." You said smiling moving a strand of your husband's blonde hair out of his face. Even though he was only in his black sweatpants, you couldn't help but think of how handsome he was. Leon rolled his eyes smiling, kissing you and your belly goodnight.

A few hours later you rolled out of bed to head to the bathroom. You had thought that your bladder was just full and the pressure was just from having to relive yourself. When Leon awoke from you screaming his name, he thought someone had come in and attacked you. He jumped out of bed and sprinted for the bathroom door busting it open.

"Babe! What's wro-." Leon stood to doorway of the bathroom and found you laying on the floor with your hands and disheveled h/c locks covering your face and crying your eyes out. You had removed your sleep pants and underwear and he tried his best to look away from them and what was on them. He sat on the floor beside you and pulled you in his lap; your head on his bear chest as you sobbed while your hands were in fists. He rubbed your back trying to soothe you and trying to ignore the aching pain in his heart. After a few minutes your cries of pain turned into faint sobs.

"We need to go to the hospital, Sweetheart. We need to see what's going on" Leon said just above a whisper. He knew in his mind exactly what happened. You both did, but he needed to make sure you yourself was actually okay physically.

*****

It had been ten months since you and Leon had lost the baby. To say Leon was depressed was an understatement. At the beginning of the loss he stayed strong for your sake. Always telling you it wasn't your fault, you didn't disappoint him, and that he loved you more than anything else in the world. But he was so focused on you and your grieving, that he never got to properly grieve himself. He started drowning himself in alcohol again to numb the pain and became more aggressive towards Claire and Chris. Tonight was no different when you got a call at 8pm from Claire.

"Y/N... Its Leon... He's been drinking too much and he's refusing to head home." She said in a sad voice. Your heart sank at the thought of Leon drowning himself in alcohol instead of coming to you.

"I'll be right there, Claire. Can you and your brother keep an eye on him for me until I get there?"

"Of course."

You grabbed your jacket and car keys and headed out to where Claire said Leon was.

When you parked the car outside of the bar, you saw Claire standing outside of it. She walked over to you after you got out of the car and pulled you into a tight hug.

"Are you doing okay? I haven't seen you since..." Claire cut herself off not wanting to cross any lines.

"I'm doing the best I can. I just want to get Leon back to the house though and get some sleep." Claire nodded and the two of you headed into the building. When you entered you caught Chris with his hand on Leon's arm, trying to force his attention causing Leon to shove him away forcefully.

"WILL YOU JUST FUCKING LEAVE, REDFIELD."

"NOT UNTIL YOU GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS AND HEAD BACK HOME TO YOUR WIFE."

"GUYS!" Claire shouted, forcing the two to look over at her and Leon's eyes to focus on your form standing beside her. You walked over to stand beside Leon, causing Chris to move out of way and stand beside Claire. You placed your hand on top of his shoulder, looking into his broken eyes.

"Babe, I-"

"Not now, Leon." You softly said cutting him off. "Please, just come home." Your voice shaking. It took him a few moments but he gave a slight nod before picking up his leather jacket and heading towards the exit. You looked other at Chris and he gave you a sad smile while Claire told you to call her if you needed anything.

The drive back home was silent between the two of you. You focused on driving while Leon looked back and forth between the outside window and his lap, the alcohol slowly wearing off. When you arrived back your place, you hopped into the shower to de-stress yourself. When you walked back into the living room, you saw Leon sitting on the couch, eyes shut, hand on a glass of whiskey that was sitting on his thigh. You walked over to the sit beside him and wrapped your arms around his waist, your head on his chest. You felt Leon relax to your touch as he let out a deep sigh.

"Leon... We need to talk about this."

Leon went to bring the glass of alcohol up to his lips, but your hand on top of the glass and staled his movements. He looked down into your e/c eyes before pulling away and placing the glass on the coffee table.

"I'm so fucking sorry... Its my fault we lost the baby." Leon said looking down to the floor trying to hold back his tears.

"What the hell are you-"

"I didn't want kids. I never wanted kids. And I was so upset when I first found you were pregnant and blamed myself for not being careful enough." He said looking into your eyes facing you. "But then I got so fucking happy. I started loving the idea of seeing the first sonogram, hearing the heartbeat, feeling the kicks in your belly, you being called "mommy", and having another reason to keep this shithole we call the world safe." You noticed his voice started shaking more and tears were on the verge of escaping his now dull blue eyes. You weren't going to speak just yet, no matter how hard you wanted to cry. He needed to get everything out. Leon looked down at your wedding ring, and held onto your hand like his life depended on it.

"I thought three years ago when we got married that having you as my wife was the best feeling in the world and losing you would kill me. But us having a family was best feeling in the world and it was taken away from me because I was too selfish and scared in the beginning. And I want kids now but I'm terrified of them being taken away from me like this again." he said allowing his tears finally fall.

You wrapped your arms around his shaking form and laid down in the couch, situation yourself so he could lay his head on your chest. You gently ran your fingers through his soft golden locks to soothe him, letting your tears fall as well.

"Leon... this is not your fault and its absolutely NOT the world punishing you. You were scared and didn't know what to do. Hell, I was terrified." You lifted up his face to have him focus on you, gently stroking his stubbley cheek with your thumb.

"But you can NOT blame yourself for this. I love you too fucking much to see you fight yourself and think that world is punishing you for being scared." Your were crying in full force now. Leon gently grabbed the back of your neck, placing a gentle and loving kiss on your lips. You kissed him back smiling. Leon slowly pulled away, letting your noses still touch.

"I love you too, Angel." He said smiling, running his finger through your soft h/c locks. He paused for a moment, thinking about you, your lives, and everything that you both had been through. He looked into your e/c eyes with his loving blue ones.

"I want us to try again. I want a baby. Please, Sweetheart?"

Your heart swelled at the words coming from him. You've been wanting to try again over the last month, but were terrified of the outcome. But more than that you were willing to risk it all to have a family with the love of your life. With a giant smile on your face you said "Yes, Leon.".

That was all he needed to hear before he captured your lips in a deep passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck while he pulled closer to his body. Leon’s tongue gently licked your lips for an entrance that you happily allowed, making you quietly moan and sent shivers down your spine. His started slowing lifting your t-shirt up to caress your breasts and removed your bra while kissing down your neck leaving gentle bite marks. You let out a sigh  and pushed Leon's jacket off of him, making him discard it somewhere on the floor. Leon wrapped your legs around his waist and picked you up to head to the bedroom. He gently laid you down on the bed and hovered over you smiling.

"Aww, no couch sex this time?" You joked pouting your lips. Leon chuckled and peck your lips. He leaned back and removed his shirt revealing his toned body. You felt yourself getting more hot by the looking at the man above you who you loved for than life its self . As you scanned his body you noticed in his tight jeans that he was just as excited as you were. You reached your hands out to his waist to undo his belt when his hands gently grabbed your wrists. Leon looked down at you with his now dark navy blue lust and love filled eyes before placing your hands down to your sides.

"Not yet, Sweetheart." He said in a sultry voice causing your arousal to heighten. Leon removed your jeans in one swift motion. You look down at him as he place his large calloused hands on waist line of your panties, slowly pulling them off. The cool air caused you too shiver as it met your hot wet folds. You let out a quiet moan as he began kissing your inner thigh.

"Fuck. your soaking, Babe." Leon said while collecting your wetness.

"Leon... Please" you moaned. He smiled and gave your clit a gentle kiss before giving your heat the attention your body had been craving. His slow licks over your folds and feeling of facial hair rubbing against you set a fire inside of you. You felt your stomach begin to tighten when he began licking circles on your sensitive bud. Leon pushed your thighs up and further apart, giving him better access to suck on your clit and folds. A loud moan left your lips at the feeling and you tugged on his silky blonde locks. Leon moaned at the sting on his scalp, lavishing in the feeling and taste of your juices. He slowly inserted his index and in middle fingers into your wet cavern, rubbing that sensitive spot inside of you.

"Fuuck, Leon." You moaned bucking your hips against his tongue and fingers. Your walls tighten around his fingers, signaling that you were close to your high. Leon moved his fingers faster, making your back lift off the bed and toes curl. Your orgasm took over your body, leaving you breathless. Your body shook and your juices soaking the sheets. Leon removed his fingers from inside you to lick off the mess on them and rubbed your thighs. He gently kissed your lips, allowing you to taste your release.

"You good, baby?" He said smirking while resting his forehead against yours. Catching your breath, you smiled.

"Better than good. But I think its only fair if I pay you back." You said smirking. Leon sat on his knees and allowed your hands removed his belt. With his help you removed his jeans and boxer briefs. His hard dick hit right below his belly button, the tip an angry red with a little bit of precum making your mouth drool. You positioned yourself so that you were sat up a little but still laying down and he was above you. You placed your hands around him and gently started stroking then up and down. Leon took a deep breath as you ran you thumb over his sensitive head before slowly taking him into your mouth. His length was hot and heavy on your tongue and the taste of his precum only turned you on more. You swirled your tongue around his tip and gently kissed it before kissing up from his pelvis to his faint happy trail while you continued to stroke him.

"God, you're going to be the end of me." Leon moaned out, looking into your e/c while gently stroking your cheek. Your smirked and popped him back into your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down while stroking what couldn't fit into your mouth. Leon gently pulled you away kissed your lips, making you lay back down. You looked up at him confused.

"Not tonight, Babygirl.". He said before he slowly slid himself inside of you, kissing your forehead. You let out a soft moan at the feeling of him stretching your tight walls.

"Fuck..." Leon groaned at how tight you were. He moved his hips at a slow but deep pace while nipping at your neck collar bone. You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him as close to you as physically possible so your bodies were flushed against each other. He slowly started picking up his pace, lifting your legs around his waist so he could hit the spot inside you that made you see stars. Your body felt like it was in fire, your nails digging into his back. Your walls hugged him like a vice, showing that you were close, making him moan into your neck.

"I love you." He whispered, his ocean eyes staring in yours with your foreheads and noses touching.

"I lo- love you too, Leon. So much." You said as you felt almost reaching your high. Leon placed his thumb on clit, tracing circles around. You moaned loudly, Leon kissing you passionately as you came hard. As you felt yourself come undone, your second orgasm much more intense than the first; you felt Leon cum inside of you. The warmth of his seed soothing your aching walls, he gently pulled away from the kiss. He rubbed his nose against yours while gently rubbing your sides with him still inside of you as he began softening. Both of you held each other close, trying to catch your breathes. After a few minutes, Leon slowly pulled himself out of you, both of you whimpering as you missed the feeling of each other. He pulled you close, laying your head on top of his chest and wrapping the covers over the both of you.

"You okay?" Leon asked tired while stroking your cheek. You moved a strand of his disheveled hair out of his face.

"I've never been better." You said with a tired smile, bringing him into a gentle kiss. "I love you, Leon." You said.

Leon smiled, pulling you closer to him.

"I love you more.".

****

"The files for the new job are in the manila envelope over there." You said pointing to the kitchen island.

"Another? I just came back from one." Leon said as he walked over to you.

"Yeah, but apparently were working on this one together." You said shrugging your shoulders.

Leon sat down at the island and opened the envelope and saw some papers and another white envelope. Leon looked over the papers and saw that one was actually a blood test from the doctor's and one thing stood out to him

Y/N  Kennedy:

Pregnancy Test- Positive

Leon stared at the words in front of him for a moment in awe. He jumped from where he was sitting, knocking the bar stool over, and ran over to you gently placing his hands on your belly.

"You're pregnant?!  How far along are you?!" Leon asked excited.

You laughed at how he was basically acting like a kid getting the best Christmas present he could have gotten.

"Yup. I'm 10 weeks and the baby is as healthy as they can be."

Leon picked you up in his strong arms and gently twirled you around kissing you.

"You still have another thing to open, Kennedy." You said when he set you down, handing him the little envelope.

Leon looked at you and opened it. In the envelope were sonogram pictures. Leon felt tears fall down his face as he looked at the pictures. The pictures that symbolized your loved for each other. The little creation that was made out of the of you. Leon slightly jumped as he felt you wrapped your arms about his waist from beside him and kiss his chest; he instinctively wrapped his left arm around your shoulder pulling you close.

"So, Mr. Kennedy. Are you ready to complete this mission with me?" You said looking up and smiling.

Leon set the sonogram down before wiping the tears from his face. He gently kissed your lips "Always, Mrs. Kennedy.".

****Epilogue****

Leon stepped through the front door of the house barley getting his shoes off before he heard the thumping of little feet.

"DADDY! I MISSED YOU." Your three-year-old daughter came running towards Leon and jumped into his arms.

Leon smiled at the girl with cute freckles and moved a strand of her h/c hair out of her face, gently kissing her forehead.

"Hi Princess, I missed you too. Where's Mommy?" He asked.

"I'm in here." You called from your shared bedroom.

"C'mon Daddy!" Your daughter said, as her gorgeous bright blue eyes she got from her father sparkled.

"Lennox, why don't you go grab a book for Daddy to read to you for bed?" you said.

"Okay, Mommy!" Lennox ran as fast as her little legs could take her into her bedroom to grab her book. Leon smiled at you. You were in one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers that you had been wearing to bed as of late

 “I missed my girls" Leon said while wrapping his arms around your waist, his hands landing on the small bump of your stomach. "He giving you a hard time?" He ask as he kissed your shoulder and laid his head on the crook of your neck. Leon could tell you were exhausted by how you relaxed immediately in his arms.

"Yeah, I haven't been able to keep anything down all day. Nyx was never this terrible when I was pregnant with her. He's going to be a stubborn pain in the ass like you". You said smiling causing Leon to laugh. He gently turned you around and kneeled down so he was at eye level with your belly and placed a gentle hand on it.

"Listen here little buddy. Give your mom a break okay? She's amazing and loves you very much. But she can't handle too us or she'll lose her shit." He gently spoke. You both felt a little kick from inside, almost like the little one was responding to you making you both laugh.

"Good, I'm glad we're on the same page kiddo." Leon said while kissing your stomach.

"I GOT IT!!" Lennox announced as she came back into the bedroom. Leon picked her up and carefully threw her over his shoulder making her laugh hysterically as he carried her into her room. You followed them into Lennox’s room and smiled as Leon kneeled down next to her bed and began tickling and giving her kisses. Once your daughter was asleep, the two of headed to bed yourselves. You laid down beside your husband and he began rubbing your belly again.

“'Not father material my ass" you said chuckling.

Leon rolled his eyes smiling before kissing your forehead. “I wouldn’t have this any other way.” He said looking into your eyes.

“Me either. I love you Leon Scott Kennedy.”

“I love you more Y/N Kennedy."

[isabellabrodar]

Rely on You✖️JJ Maybank✖️

word count: 1573

warnings: mentions of alcohol and drugs, death/loss

JJ Maybank x Reader; JJ Maybank x John B’s sister

Everyone in my family has left me at some point. My mother ditched us for Colorado when my brother and I were only three years old. John B took that pretty, hard but I knew we were better off without her. Caring for her children wasn’t really a strength of hers anyways, so we barely talk about her now.

Then our dad went away to find the lost gold on the Royal Merchant and never came back. This time the loss of a parent broke me. I didn’t dare hope that he was just stranded somewhere, slurping on a coconut and waiting until someone comes to get him and although his body never was found, John B and I silently agreed on moving on. Accepting that your dad died isn’t the easiest thing for two teenagers to do. So I tried to lose myself in school stuff and John B took over our household. I think it was just his way of coping with the situation, but it became annoying pretty quickly. Every time our friends came over, it seemed like he was trying to prove that he was taking care of me.

And then he died. Or at least we all thought he and Sarah did. But turns out they were alive the whole time and now everything can go back to normal. But losing almost everyone that you have learned to rely on hurts you in a way that cannot be undone.

I was gripping the red plastic cup tightly as I tried to make my way through the dancing and drinking crowd. My eyes were moving rapidly over every face nearby, searching for my brother’s hazel eyes and curly brown hair. But I didn’t see him. So I pushed further into the mass of people until I passed a group of Kooks, standing on the edge of the boneyards, seeming to be staring at a girl dancing her heart out only a couple of feet away. I usually would’ve said something to them but I just walked by, my breathing becoming quicker as I whispered John B’s name over and over again.

When I felt a strong hand grab my shoulder, I turned around in a quick motion.

“John B?” I said before I looked into clear blue eyes.

“No, Y/N. He left about five minutes ago with Sarah. They’re fine.” JJ’s voice was calm but his look was drenched with worry and his grip didn’t loosen up as my breathing slowed down a bit.

“Sorry, J. I…I just didn’t know where he was. I was…I am sorry.” I felt a small tear of relief roll down my cheek as the panic started to die down and JJ moved to put a strand of my dark brown hair behind my ear.

“It’s okay. No need to apologize, smarty. We’ll go home yeah? I’ll get Kie and Pope.” I could hear a slight slur in his words, probably coming from more than just a couple of beers. Other than that he sounded tired and I knew that was my fault.

“No, J. I can get home by myself. Let them enjoy themselves, I don’t want to ruin the whole evening.” I put the empty cup on a rock wall next to me and straightened out my white summer dress. JJ looked me up and down once and then shook his head. I knew he wasn’t going to let me walk home alone after that panic attack.

“I’ll tell Pope that we’re going home. Meet you at the truck.” And before I could argue once more, JJ was already on his way over to our friends who were chatting with some other Pogues that I had seen before at school. So I went back into the crowd and saw that one of the Kooks from earlier was now dancing with that one girl and his friends weren’t staring anymore but looking around for something or better someone else to watch. I made my way over to my old truck, dodging several elbows and spilling drinks, while thinking about all the other times the panic had taken a hold of me and JJ had been there to help me.

Our friendship used to be very easy, I would say. We met through John B in third grade and have been inseparable ever since then. With the others we would go surfing almost every day but when it came to talking about serious matters, JJ and I usually kept to ourselves. Occasionally I had noticed the forming bruises on his cheeks or ribs whenever he came back from his house, but he always said it was nothing or an accident and I didn’t pressure him into telling me more, although I made it a point to come with him to his house as often as I could, so his dad wouldn’t get a chance to touch JJ.

And in return JJ didn’t ask about my nightmares that would wake me up every night after we thought John B and Sarah died. He’d move closer to me on the mattresses that we put into the living room for us four to sleep on. Kie and Pope mostly slept at their houses though, which was good, because then I didn’t have to explain myself to even more people. The problem is, that even after my brother and Sarah came back, the nightmares didn’t stop and I started having panic attacks when I felt like I lost them again. Just like at the party. And since JJ was the only person who knew about that, he felt obligated to take care of me.

This is pretty far away from us calling each other smarty and pretty boy, reducing each other to what people mostly noticed about us and never talking about anything besides parties, surfing and how many grams of weed we would need to get for the next tour on the HMS Pogue.

I grabbed a hoodie from the passenger seat of my truck and closed the door again when I heard footsteps approaching.

“You know I am fine. No need to deprive all these pretty girls from their favorite pretty boy.” I said in a mocking but tired tone whilst nodding my head towards the dancing crowd. JJ was now standing next to me, smiling.

“They can wait ‘till the next party. Let’s go home.” He held out his arm for me to loop mine around and then we started walking through the Cut. This kind of intimacy between us had become normal, but it never seemed to be anything besides friendship and we were both grateful for that. The summer air was cold on my legs and small goosebumps started to form on my skin.

“You really need to wear more… I don’t know, fabric I guess.”

“You sound like my dad. Or worse, like John B.” A small laugh escaped his lips as we made our way further along the street, arms still intertwined.

“I think you should talk to him about your nightmares.”

“And I think you should tell your dad he can rot in hell.” He let go of me and put a little distance between us.

“Damn, Y/N, I get it. Don’t talk to John B then.” It always came to this. Both of us telling the other what to do and to confront their problems, but we couldn’t do it and then we would get pissed off at each other, but that’s just the way our friendship worked.

We got to John B and I’s house a couple minutes later, which we had spent in silence. I opened the door and went straight towards John B’s room. The light was turned off already and I saw him and Sarah sleep peacefully. That’s when my heart beat finally went completely back to normal. When I stepped into the living room I saw JJ sprawled across one of the big mattresses. He was still wearing his clothes but that didn’t seem to matter to him.

“I’m going to sleep in my room today, J.”

He mumbled a quiet “ok” and turned his back towards me as I stepped past him.

I was standing on the beach and watched John B and my dad go into the waves on a small boat. Then thunder started and the heavy rain made it hard to see anything out on the ocean. There was lightning and then suddenly the sound of the thunderstorm stopped as I saw the lightning hit the boat that my family was on. Then they were just gone.

I woke up, breathing heavily with sweat on my forehead. My room was dark but I could hear quiet steps coming towards my bed. I scooted over to the side and started to relax as JJ planted himself next to me, still fully clothed. I laid back down and closed my eyes as the boy next to me but his arm over my side and started to calmly breathe onto my neck. This is something that has happened a lot the past two months. Always the same dream, the same horror in which I woke up and then JJ being there and helping me back to sleep just by getting closer. But this scared me. How can I let myself rely on him when everything that causes me pain comes from the people that I am closest to disappearing, getting hurt or leaving?

✖️Soo, I usually don’t write but I just wanted to try it. I know this is not a complete story or whatever and it’s kind of all over the place, but if you guys like it, then I might rewrite it or add more:)

[anxiousstark]

The times you wanted to cry in front of JJ but held back, and the time you didn't | JJ MAYBANK

Warnings: Sad, angst, mentions of a loved one dying, physical and emotional abuse, anxiety. Kiara and Sarah were already friends. FLUFFLY AND HAPPY ENDING.

Word Count: 2648

All Rights Reserved. The author, me, don’t allow any type of copy or adaption.

If you guys see my works in other websites, let me know, please. I only have Tumblr.

BIG MASTERLIST

Laugher surrounded you. Normally, that would be something you loved, making you feel embraced by a peaceful environment. The Wreck was empty, except for the pogues enjoying a friendly night, full of laughter, delicious food, and kindness.

Usually, you cherished those nights. They would end with Kiara Carrera, Sarah Cameron, and you, Y/N Y/L/N dancing on top of a table while the three boys grinned, betting on who would slip first. But also, preparing to get into action, to avoid someone getting hurt.

Except that night wasn't like every night. Your hands shook a little, gripping your phone tightly. Your eyes moved along that sentence, over and over again, in case you read wrong.

'Grandma passed away.'

Your parents were harsh on you. Every Kook parent was harsh on their child. But your parents had an important role that they had to maintain, being the ones in charge of every Midsummer. They needed to keep up with their perfect image, which meant that you had to keep up with it too. Even if it was too much.

Your grandmas was an exception, a lovely one. She believed in love, actually falling in love. She didn't like it when parents tried to search the 'perfect one' for their children, that perfect one being someone full of shitty money. She believed in freedom. She was the only person you went to when you couldn't cope up with some situations. She was always there, arguing with your parents, and swearing to all the gods and goddesses that you wouldn't end up being a stuck Kook married with someone who loved your status, and not your persona.

But now, she wasn't there anymore. She was gone.

You wanted to cry, you wanted to sob violently, and be embraced by your friends. And even if things weren't going to be okay, you wanted to hear them whisper that to you. But you didn't.

When Kiara's dad entered The Wreck because he had forgotten his wallet, his eyes spotted you, offering a sad smile. "Hey, Y/N. I'm so sorry." He walked to you, embracing you for a couple of seconds. Someone had turned the music off, and every pogue's attention was on you. "Bless her. She was an amazing woman. I'm so sorry for your loss."

You bit your lower lip, hoping that if you bit down on it hard enough, it would stop shaking. "Thank you," You whispered, trying to maintain a tiny smile on your beautiful face.

"Your grandma," He continued. "Best woman I've known. If you need anything, you can always come here." He waved, exiting the restaurant.

All eyes were on you, but you didn't break down. No. You didn't. Teary eyes were nothing if you smiled like everything was okay. Everyone would believe you were okay, right?

"I'm so sorry for your loss." Kiara was the first one to break the silence, then all of the others gave you their blessings, asking if you were alright. Everyone knew how much you loved that woman. Everyone knew you would do the craziest things for her.

To all the questions, you smiled, nodding your head and assuring your friends that everything was just fine. "She is in a better place," No, that was a lie. There was no better place for her than next to you. The person who loved her the most.

Everyone would believe you were okay? No, JJ Maybank knew you like the back of his hand. But he didn't say anything, just rested his hand on your back, rubbing his thumb in circles, hoping to offer comfort. You, again, smiled.

That was the first time you wanted to cry in front of JJ but held back.

Walking was hard, but you still tried to walk as you normally did. All pogues were to meet on the beach. It was the perfect day to get some amazing waves, to surf, to eat delicious and fresh food, to joke around, to make unforgettable memories.

You already had some unforgettable memories that day, but not the kind you wanted to remember, the kind you wanted to erase from your mind.

When you arrived at the beach everyone was there. The blonde boy waved at you, of course, waiting for you to go closer to them. When you did, they greeted you. It didn't matter how long you all knew each other, the excitement was always there.

It was a nice morning. Until it was time to go into the water, you didn't want to. That is why, you had left your surfboard at home, hiding in the corner of your room. But of course, you hadn't thought about how JJ always had a board prepared for if someone forgot theirs.

"I'm okay, really," Lying became easy as time went by. "I don't feel like getting into the water. That time of the month." You rested your hand on the lower part of your belly while lying again.

"But you love surfing," JJ stayed back for a couple of seconds while the others were already shouting happily, getting into the water, and splashing each other. John B grabbed Kiara, pulling her down while Pope told them not to play so roughly because someone would end up getting hurt. "You want me to stay with you?"

"No," You grinned. "Go into the ocean! That I'm not going to surf doesn't mean I don't want to see the coolest surfer in the Outer Banks."

He smirked, getting distracted from the previous conversation due to the flirty friendship you guys had. "I never knew you were THAT much in love with me. Do you have dirty dreams about me at night?" He licked his lower lip while grinning.

Your hand grabbed some sand, throwing it at him. "Go!"

He didn't go. He continued staring at you, deeply. "Are you sure you are okay?" You nodded your head which didn't convince him much. "You know that if you need to talk to someone, I'm here. We all are."

"JJ," You whispered. "I wouldn't lie to you. I'm okay. Just hate being a woman one time a month." You chuckled when he pulled a disgusted expression.

Looking at him run towards the others, the smile on your face vanished. Your tummy was full of red and purple marks, all given to you by your father. Rafe Cameron had given away to your parents that you considered yourself a pogue, escaping your house and meeting with the people you truly loved, and that loved you back. Your dad didn't like that, and everyone that knew him in a more personal way knew that he couldn't control his temper. He was the reason your brother abandoned the Outer Banks years ago.

You used to hate him for leaving you there with him. But now, you would stand in silence, receiving those punches if it meant that at the end of the day, you would be able to see your friends. To see JJ Maybank.

That was the second time you wanted to cry in front of JJ but held back.

You tried not to play with the fork, knowing that it was bad manners and that you would get a kick from under the table by your mom. You were hungry but also tried not to eat much because there were visitors, and your mom tried to convince you that a woman should not eat much in front of a man they are trying to impress. Bullshit. But you had to do it if you wanted to go to sleep without any bruise.

You weren't trying to impress anyone. Your parents wanted to impress the Cameron family. Sarah and you didn't look at each other, knowing that Rafe would be asshole enough to reveal how both of you knew each other because you went out with the pogues. Even though, he had already revealed that information to your parents.

"You two look so lovely," Your mom grinned, while Rafe's father nodded his head. "I'm so glad both of you had decided to go out together!" What?

What?

"What?" The mere question escaped from in between your lips. "I didn't-" You felt a kick under the table, you mom was glaring at you while your eyes got teary.

"Baby," She grinned wickedly. "Last night, you told me you had a big crush on Rafe. I know you are shy about these things, so I told him myself!"

"Woah," Rafe's dad intervened. Although, your eyes were on your mom, feeling completely disgusted by the lie she told. "It so amazing that you guys have such a close relationship."

No, you didn't. You guys didn't have a close relationship. You could never be close to someone who walked away when her husband beat the shit out of her own daughter.

They were arranging a relationship between Rafe Cameron and you. If your grandma was there, she wouldn't let that happen. But she wasn't which meant you were going to end up dating Rafe Cameron. Which meant you had to hide your feeling for JJ Maybank, again.

That night, JJ called your phone. He told you about how he had found this cute little puppy on the street, convincing John B to let him keep it. You almost cried while listening to his voice. Of course, you didn't.

That was the third time you wanted to cry in front of JJ but held back.

A red velvet dress embraced your body, arms full of goosebumps. You weren't sure if those were because you were a little cold due to the chilly night or because of the situation. It was your birthday, and you wanted to celebrate it. You wanted to go out with the pogues, swim, dance, or even just not do anything but be with them. But of course, you weren't allowed to.

The situation was even more shitty. Your parents had taken your phone, not giving it back, claiming that now that you were with Rafe Cameron it was even more important to be far from 'those stupid non-deserving pogues'. It had been weeks since you saw or talked to them. They didn't know what was going on.

You had ignored Kiara when she saw you shopping with Sarah. The Cameron girl swore not to say a word, even though she believed that it would hurt them even more. You had pushed John B out of the way when he saw you the other day, walking with some other Kooks, something you would never do. You had insulted Pope when he stopped-by your house to deliver some things. And a couple of days ago, Rafe Cameron had kissed you on the lips when he saw that JJ Maybank was walking to you, worriedly because you had been missing from all the pogues meeting.

So now, you were in the middle of Midsummer's party, eyes lost. The pogues probably hated you, not understanding your change of behavior. The hand that was resting on your lower back wasn't the one you wanted. And the eyes of your parents burned holes on the back of your head. Midsummer's were more important than your birthday. Not even your parent had wished you a happy birthday. Not Rafe Cameron, even though you didn't need anything from him. Not the pogues, and they had a valid reason not to. Multiple reasons not to.

Sarah did, but because she knew what was going on.

Kiara avoided you all night, not even daring to glance at you. Pope was helping his father serve food, and even when he went near you, offering food or drinks, he didn't look up to meet your eyes.

You didn't expect John B and JJ to appear at the Midsummer party. JJ's face was bruised, and your heart ached because you were always the first one to know about those things, but this time you weren't. The guards were already prepared to kick both boys out of the party.

Sarah and Kiara looked at each other, running toward both boys, hugging them closely. You couldn't help but smile a little when you saw the happiness on their faces. Especially, on JJ Maybank.

Pope glanced at his father, apologizing, and following his friends. All of them ready to leave.

Your grin vanished. Gaze focused on the floor. "I will be back. I need to retouch my makeup." You told Rafe, moving his hand away from your waist. You needed to go to the bathroom. You couldn't hold back the tears anymore. A hand grabbed your wrist, and it seemed like the music was lower, whispers louder. "Rafe, I really need to go to the bathro-."

Not Rafe Cameron, but JJ Maybank.

"Come," He swallowed hard. Your tongue came out of your mouth, licking your lips, even though it didn't work because your mouth was totally dry. "Come back to us." You heard Rafe call your name, and telling JJ to step away from you. "Come back to me, please." You couldn't hide his teary eyes, and neither could you.

"Y/N Y/L/N," Your dad. You flinched when hearing his voice. You avoided JJ's gaze. "Get away from him."

You clutched JJ's hand, lessening his grip on you. Turning around, taking a step to go back to where your parents were looking at you angrily.

"We came for you," His voice made you stop. "We came for you because Sarah told us this morning what was going on. You don't have to do this anymore. No one will do anything to you. You can come back to us. We want you back."

Your father grabbed his keys, knowing that was a warning. It wouldn't be the first time he punched you with those keys between his knuckles to make more damage. "I-I don't want to go back. I'm okay, JJ."

You heard him walk away from you, again. Your back still to him. A shiver ran through your body while staring at your parents. Your dad was smiling victoriously. You shook your head. Now, he was screaming your name. But you were too busy running toward your friends, who turned around. All of them had teary eyes because they thought they lost you.

Kiara was the first one to see you, smiling. Tears wetting her cheeks. Her hand rested on JJ's shoulder, he confused looked at her, then followed her gaze to look at you. Your face was wet, some makeup running down your cheeks. But you looked beautiful. You looked beautiful because you were running back to his arms. When he had you between his arms, he could feel the violent sobs shaking your entire body.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He cried. "You didn't have to be strong. You didn't have to be strong alone. You had us." He whispered. "You have us."

"I'm sorry." You wanted to say so many things, but those were the most important ones. You needed to apologize. Eyes closed while sobbing hysterically.

"Let me see your face," JJ was also crying. He tried to move you apart from his body so he could see your face, but you tightened your arms around him, even your legs. His hands grabbed your butt, keeping your legs around his waist, supporting you. "Let me see your face because I want to kiss you so bad."

And he did. JJ Maybank kissed you like this was a film or a book. He let his lips command yours, and he couldn't hold back when his tongue desperately needed to touch yours. "I love you. It's always been you." You let him know when both of you needed to breathe.

"I love you too," He happily cried. "I'm so in love with you."

The Pogues went close to both of you, gripping their arms around you. Sobbing. Crying. Weeping.

That was the time you wanted to cry in front of JJ, and you did.

[iamverysmall-andihavenomoney]

Forgotten Birthdays

Haikyū!! Masterlist

Word Count: 2k

Pairing: Oikawa Tōru x Gender Neutral! Reader

Warnings: Your parents and friends (except for those in the volleyball club) forget your birthday

A/N: One last bit before the angst later. Plus, this is a little self indulgent, not gonna lie.

When people asked, your answer was always the same. “I don’t know. I forgot it a while ago.” So many people would ask how you could forget something so important. So many people would laugh and give you a look that you read all too well as a look of pity.

   Though you couldn’t blame them. Who could forget their own birthday?

   Well, to be honest, you hadn’t. But you said you did. It made things easier to cope with. No one else ever remembered.

   You hoped this year would be different. Your trust and love for your boyfriend and his volleyball club had given you a bit of hope that you hadn’t thought yourself capable of, any longer. For the first time in years, you woke up on your birthday with a smile, wondering if maybe Tōru had broken the cycle and remembered.

   It didn’t take long for you to tug on your uniform and practically fly out of the door to school.

   You should have known better. Maybe that would have made the inevitable heartbreak the tiniest bit easier. But, when you greeted your boyfriend, any trace of hope that anyone would ever remember or care just... faded.

   “Hey Tōru,” you greet your boyfriend with a kiss to his cheek, which he responds to with an almost sheepish grin. Then, you look at the other three third years, waving to them with a light smile.

   “What’s got you in such a good mood today?” Hanamaki raises an eyebrow in your direction, “You’re usually pretty tired in the mornings.”

   Without a moment’s hesitation, your boyfriend nods his head, “Today special?” He asks you curiously.

   If he hadn’t looked away when he did, he might’ve caught the crestfallen look that flashed across your features. It seemed Iwaizumi was about to ask you something, when Tōru speaks up again, “Hey, Y/N, I’m sorry to pull it away from you, but would you mind if I had my jacket back? We’ve got a practice game later and I’ll need it for then.”

   Managing a weak smile, you nod and silently slip the jacket from your shoulders, before handing it to him. It takes you a moment to swallow the lump in your throat and speak, but luckily, you did manage to keep your voice level. “Of course... I have a class I’ve got to be to early, this morning. So, I’ll see you at lunch?” 

   Visibly flinching at your words, Tōru frowns. “Cutie, I wish I could but I-”

   “Need to practice. I understand.” You nod, before glancing at the other three, “See you three later...” With a nod and an almost awkward wave of your hand, you carry on towards the school.

   You barely manage to carry yourself to the nurse’s office, before tears brim your eyes. The look of pity that came from the school nurse is what had the tears finally trickling down your cheeks, your meek question for an area to discreetly regain your composure silenced by her ushering you to a bed and pulling the curtain closed, for you.

...

2:37

From: My Pretty Setter    ‘You coming? You’re usually here before most of the boys.’    ‘Y/N? Everything alright?’

Sent to: My Pretty Setter    ‘I haven’t been feeling well, today, Tōru.’    ‘I’m sorry, but I’m just going to go home and see if laying down helps. But let me know how it goes, okay?’    ‘I’ll be rooting for you, from a distance.’

   Locking your phone, you tuck it back into your bag. Maybe it was for the best, anyways. You didn’t know how much more you could take after the pitying ‘Happy Birthday’ was thrown your way after the nurse looked over your file.

   You began the walk home with your eyes glued to the pavement in front of you. You could contain your tears until you got home, couldn’t you?

   The walk felt like it lasted an eternity before you were finally able to enter an empty household. You left the lights off as you trudged to your room, shutting the door behind you. You pull your phone and laptop from your bed, gently placing them on your bed before you drop your schoolbag to the floor.

   Slumping back in your chair, you feel the tears start to fall. You felt humiliated and you weren’t even sure why. You’d been such an idiot to believe this year would be any different than any other.

   The morning spent, slowly realizing that despite all of your efforts to not care about your birthday and to not remember it, you did remember it, and you did care. Then, you spent your lunches alone. And you went home as soon as school ended... And you spent the evening all alone, sometimes making a subpar cupcake or cake for yourself.

   Your brows furrow as you glance in the mirror. You felt pathetic and you fucking hated it.

   With your attention so focused on your reflection in the mirror, you didn’t realize someone else was in your house, until you heard your door creek, as it was pushed open. And there stood the last person you wanted to see right now.

   Sinking to the edge of your bed, you bring your hands up to quickly wipe away the tears that quickly rolled down your cold, wet cheeks, “Tōru, what are you doing here? You have a practice game—”

   “Y/N, stop,” he comes to kneel in front of you, in between your legs, softly cooing to you. “Sweet baby, hey, what are you doing here? Alone?”

   Tōru, of course, knew that your parents were seriously absent in your life. They were almost never home, and you were left alone, more often than not, which was why you both called and texted one another as frequently as you did. Unless he could be there with you, then he was spending the night as often as he could.

   But today was your birthday. Not just that, but your eighteenth one, at that. Why weren’t they here to celebrate with you?

   “What do you mean?” Your confusion broke his heart, “It’s just like any other day. They’re never here.”

   “No, it’s not. Today is your birthday and they—” His breath caught in his throat, realization hitting him. So that was why you pretended to never know your birthday. Because even your parents had forgotten. “Baby did they...?”

   You frown, looking at the ground, “You — You forgot too,” your voice is weak and as you fall silent, you bite down on your bottom lip in an attempt to keep the quiver out of your voice. “But, it’s not important. You have a game to get to, anyway.”

   Tōru’s shoulders fall. This morning had been a display of what the four third-years thought to be bad acting. They’d never forget your birthday and they thought you’d have figured out what they were up to, by now. There was no practice game. Only a birthday party for you that the team had put together. Which was why your boyfriend had been so quick to retrieve you.

   “Baby, none of us forgot your birthday. Stupid idea to act like none of us remembered, honestly, I know. It is important and... Just come with me, yeah? We’ll talk about this thing with your parents, later. Sound good?”

   Your eyes move back to him, tears filling them all over again. “You - You didn’t..?”

   He shakes his head, bringing his hands to gently cup your cheeks, gently wiping his thumbs over your wet cheeks. “Of course I didn’t. You can’t imagine how very important you are to me, Y/N. I wasn’t going to let you go without celebrating, today. Because no matter how unimportant you think today is...” He laces his fingers together with yours as he speaks.

   “The day that my favorite person in this world and the person I love more than anything came into this world is just as important to me as... Making it to Nationals, if you can believe that.”

   His comparison makes a quiet laugh escape you, sniffling a bit. “I’m sorry for assuming you forgot.”

   “Don’t apologize.” Tōru scolds you, “But I am serious when I say that I need to have a serious talk with your parents. No child should go without ever getting to celebrate with the people who care about them. That’s just not how it works.”

   Wrapping your arms around your boyfriend, you allow him to pull you up so that you’re both standing, wrapped in one another’s arms. The way you bury your face in his chest and allow yourself to relax against him reassures him. 

...

After allowing you time to clean yourself up and get dressed, Tōru takes your hand and quite literally drags you all of the way back to the Aoba Jōsai volleyball club gym, grinning stupidly as he knocks a few times on the door to let them know that you were both there. Then, he pauses and turns towards you to look at you in excitement as he waits for them to get ready inside.

   After a moment, he manages to kick the door open, tugging you into the dark gym. He moves to your side, but still, his eyes don’t leave you. He silently wondered if this was your first birthday party. No matter if it was, or not, though, he wasn’t to see your reaction to all of his meticulous planning... After all, he had been planning all of this for a solid two months.

   It was all he’d been talking about to Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa. Though, they would admit that it was nice to see him so invested in something that wasn’t volleyball, for once.

   As the lights are turned on, you find yourself looking at the (mostly) smiling faces of the volleyball club that you had grown so familiar with. Though you weren’t officially a manager, you were always here to support them at practices and games. They all knew that if any of them came and asked you for help with anything, you’d do it for them in a heartbeat. Everyone in the club adored you.

   Shittykawa had done himself well, finding you and everyone in the club agreed.

   “Happy birthday, Y/N,” a chorus of voices call out to you, some leaving you to register and take in your surroundings, while others immediately approached so that they could speak to you.

   Iwaizumi is the first to reach you, “I hope you like it. Loserkawa has been planning this for you for months.” Though most around you laughed at the seeming jest, you took his words for what they were: a subtle way of telling you that Tōru had planned this all, by himself and deserved the credit for it.

   After speaking to some of the team, you see your boyfriend go to grab a parcel with a bow on it for you, bringing it back to you with a grin. “Open it.”

   Giving him a look of confusion, your hands begin to peel open the parcel, allowing your boyfriend to pull the trash from your hands so that you can use both of them to see your gift. It was a jacket, themed with your school’s colors, teal and white. You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face as you look at the words on the back of the jacket. 

       ‘Y/N L/N ‘Seijoh’s Manager’

   Turning it over in your hands, you looked at the front as well. Next to the zipper, on the right side of the jacket and below the collar, rest more words.

‘If found, please return to Tōru Oikawa’

   “So, do you like it?” Your boyfriend wears a sheepish, almost apprehensive smile as he tries to gauge your reaction.

   “I love it, Tōru. I love it all... Thank you.” Your words are accompanied by a sweet kiss to his lips.

   “You two, the first years are present, come on, now.”

   “So mean, Iwa-chan! Now how about we turn on some music and treat this like an actual party?”

General Taglist:

@thathoneybee3 @bratkugo

[fleetingpieces]

My One in a Million CH 5

Ok ok it’s here!! Once again, thank you @knittingdreams and @inloveoknutzy for being such amazing betas ❤️ And thank you @wonder-womans-ex for the idea of Sirius making awful cookies haha @donttouchmycarrots @sunflowerfox87 @justdyingontheinside @heyoitslysso @whataboutmyfries Please let me know if I forgot anyone that wanted to be tagged! :)

And of course, the lovely characters are from @lumosinlove ‘s world 

Thank you so much for reading y’all! ❤️

Masterlist

Chapter 5 - Making amends

Sirius had a plan.

It was very simple. He wanted to clear the air with Remus, show him he wasn’t a horrible person. And to do that, he needed to stop being an ass.

Sirius had never been more self-conscious of how much his family affected his moods. He hated the idea of them having that kind of power over him. After all, he’d escaped that house years ago to avoid precisely that: having no control over his own life.

He had a tendency to go on a self-destructive streak whenever he felt overwhelmed by his parents' demands, it was the only way he knew how to cope with it. It was unhealthy, he was perfectly aware of that, and he was tired of not being able to find another way. Yeah, he wanted to do something nice for Remus to compensate for his behaviour, but he also wanted to do this for himself. So, now that he was feeling like his own person again, Sirius was going to fix all of his bad habits, go back to being a decent human being, and apologize to Remus. 

It was going to work.

“That’s not gonna work.”

Sirius stared at Finn. He was sprawled on the couch, carding his fingers through Logan’s hair, who was sitting between his legs. Sirius would never admit it, but sometimes he was jealous of the relationship they had. He yearned for something like that.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well, you can do all of that, but it will all be for nothing if he still refuses to even look at your face.”

“Why don’t you just tell him you’re Padfoot?” James asked as he walked into the room with two bowls of snacks in his hands, before he plopped down on the floor. “D’you think he’d tell?”

“No, I don’t believe Remus would do something like that. He would definitely try to keep Padfoot’s identity. I just…” Sirius trailed off and stared down at his hands, fiddling with them on his lap. Then he lifted his head to look at James’ confused expression. “I just don’t want the same thing to happen again. Not that I think Remus would try to take advantage of my popularity, but I…” he heaved a sigh, “I don’t want him to like me just because I’m Padfoot. I want him to like me because of me.”

There was a short silence as his three friends glanced at each other, and then Logan snorted.

“You big softie,” he said with a smirk. Sirius threw a cushion to his face.

He didn’t tell them the other reason why he was reluctant to tell Remus the truth: he was scared he would disappoint him.

The man thought so highly of Padfoot, it was so obvious by the way he spoke of him and how his eyes shone when he did. But would he still think the same if he knew that Padfoot was in fact his annoying neighbour? It seemed so important to him, for reasons Sirius didn’t understand, but still. He didn’t want to ruin that for Remus.

“So what are you going to do?” James said through a mouthful of chips.

Sirius perked up and smiled wickedly at his friends, making them groan even before he started talking.

“I’m glad you asked, Prongs. I’m gonna start by soundproofing my recording room. Which is why you lot are here today.”

James let out an audible gasp, “and here I thought you actually enjoyed our company. You were planning on using us all along!” he tilted his head up, placing his wrist on his forehead like he was about to faint.

“Outrageous.”

“I’m shocked.”

“I never expected this of you, Sirius,” Finn added, pretending to wipe the corner of his eyes.

“D’accord, d’accord!” Sirius huffed. “Dinner’s on me, oui? Don’t look at me like that, Prongs. I know you’ll be recording in here as well, so you might as well stop complaining and help.”

“Why are we here then?” Logan grumbled as he burrowed closer to Finn’s front, searching for his warmth.

“Cause you love me too much, and cause me and James alone would probably end up building a fort instead.”

James grinned cheekily at him, like he hadn’t dismissed that idea yet, but he got up. The four of them went to the room at the end of the hall, where Sirius had a couple of computers, lots of collectibles, and piles of acoustic foam and command strips to do the job.

“You know, you could probably teach Remus a thing or two about video editing. Leo showed us some of them and they’re good, but they are missing a little something,” Finn said offhandedly.

Sirius tripped over a chair, sending it wheeling against the desk.

“You...you saw the videos?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant about it, but the effect was completely ruined with Logan snickering in the background. 

“Wait, since when are you friends with Leo?” James raised his eyebrows as he stared suspiciously from Logan to Finn.

Finn blushed slightly, but it was Logan who answered. “Oh, you know... we hung out a couple of times after the party. He’s cool.”

“He’s cool,” Sirius snorted. He hadn’t missed the way all three of them had thrown glances at each other all night at Halloween. There was something going on that he didn’t quite understand yet, but he wanted to give them the space they needed to talk about it if they wanted to.

Besides, there were other things on his mind as of then.

He’d completely forgotten about the existence of those videos. How that had happened after the display he saw on the balcony the other day was beyond him. Working on the room and waiting for the guys to be distracted enough was torture for Sirius. He had to keep reminding himself it was for a good cause, that Remus and his other neighbours would appreciate it.

But as soon as the food arrived and the guys sat down in the living room to watch TV, Sirius disappeared back into his recording room.

Finding the videos wasn’t hard. Apparently, there weren’t that many Remuses out there that were yoga instructors. Shocking, he knew. He pulled up the first video that appeared and almost choked on his breath.

There was Remus, bent backwards in the air over another man’s feet. Sirius registered at the back of his mind that the man was Leo, but he was more focused on the way Remus seemed to be flying as Leo, who was lying on the floor, kept him up by pressing his feet at Remus’ lower back and curve of his ass. A pop-up note at the bottom of the screen said the pose was called “back bow”. Sirius could understand why Finn thought he could use some help with editing, but right then, he didn’t really give a crap about that. Not with Remus’ muscles stretched taught to keep himself balanced and in shape, the tights he was wearing hugging the length of his legs and hips snugly, leaving very little to the imagination.

Sirius watched, transfixed, at the way Remus bent gracefully, his lean body arching and flipping in the air before Leo caught him. It was fucking gorgeous.

At the end of the video, a link was dropped that Sirius clicked almost on instinct. He was led to a website that offered all sorts of merchandise: mats, t-shirts, hoodies, sweatpants, leggings, and a few more things. Before Sirius could stop to analyse his fanboy (and slightly stalkerish) behaviour, he started adding stuff to the cart.

“Sirius, what the hell are you doing? Your food is getting cold.” James entered the room but stopped short when Sirius hastily got up and stood in front of the computer screen. He raised an eyebrow and glanced around his best friend, surprise marking his features when he got a look at what he was doing. “You really are smitten, aren’t you?”

Sirius rubbed a hand over his face, dropping himself back on the chair. He could talk about it with James, James wouldn’t make fun of him. “I...I don’t know. I’m just so curious about him. Like...I really want to talk to him more? Is that weird?”

“Nah, it’s not.” He walked over and propped himself on the desk next to Sirius, “I think it’s great that you’re actually trying. Don’t…” he sighed, “don’t close yourself off. You don’t need to do that anymore.”

Finn and Logan’s laughs drifted in through the door, breaking the haze in Sirius’ thoughts.

“Yeah...Yeah, thanks Potts.”

James bumped his fist against Sirius’ shoulder, smiling fondly at him. “No problem. Now get your ass there and eat your food.” He slung an arm around Sirius’ neck and started dragging him to the living room.

Sirius laughed and let himself be steered into a chair as he stole a glance at his two other friends, who were stealing kisses and food from each other, thinking that maybe James had a point. Maybe it was ok for him to want this.

***

Standing in front of the door with the number ten on it, Sirius felt a bit like an idiot. He was there, with a canvas painting -wrapped neatly in parchment paper- under one arm, and a box of homemade cookies in his hand.

Lily had mentioned what it was exactly that Sirius had broken, and Sirius had looked at many local artists until he found one he thought was perfect.

The cookies had been Sirius’ idea. He’d made them himself and vowed to never let any of his friends find out about it or he wouldn’t be able to live it down. 

Pumping himself up, Sirius plastered his best smile on his face and knocked on the door. A few moments later it swung open, and then Remus was in front of him, still looking back into his apartment with a smile.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” he said, but when he turned around and looked at Sirius, his smile faltered. The waver of those lips made Sirius’ heart tremble too. “Hi.”

“Hello,” Sirius breathed. After a few seconds of both of them just staring at each other, Sirius cleared his throat. “Can I...um...Can I talk to you?”

“Sure.” Remus seemed surprised, but he crossed his arms and stared at him, waiting.

Oh, this is worse than I thought. Sirius shifted his weight. “Is it ok if I come in?” he asked, and then he thought about Remus’ first words. “Or..oh shit, do you have company?”

“No,” Remus frowned. He glanced suspiciously at the stuff on Sirius’ hands before he heaved a sigh and stepped back to let him through.

Sirius’ first impression of Remus’ flat was that it suited him. It was warm, just like Remus seemed to be with anyone that wasn’t Sirius. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by him in the past few weeks how sweet and kind he was, always smiling and helping others. Sirius really wanted to be his friend. Ok, maybe more than friends, but right now, he would be happy with just that.

“What do you need?” Remus asked in an uninterested tone. He didn’t invite Sirius to sit down, and instead just stood there in the middle of the living room.

Sirius turned to look at him, his mouth opening to start apologising, but his attention was drawn to something behind the other man. Cocoa was approaching them slowly, placing one paw in front of the other without making a sound, his yellow eyes focused on Sirius’ face and his lips slightly pulled up.

A wide smile pulled at Sirius’ mouth, his eyes lighting up. “Hey doggy!” He crouched, extending a hand towards the animal.

“Sirius, don’t!” Remus tried to stop the dog, but Cocoa was already onto Sirius. And then he froze altogether at what he saw. Cocoa merely sniffed Sirius’ hand, sat down, and started wagging his tail.

Sirius laughed, “whoa, you’re even larger up close.” His eyes found Remus’. “Why are you so jumpy? He’s such a good dog,” he said as he started scratching Cocoa’s ears, “aren’t you?”

The wolfdog barked once and leaned into Sirius’ hand with its tongue hanging out.

“I...I don’t get it,” Remus was staring at him in awe, his mouth hanging open as his dog got closer to Sirius.

“What?”

“Cocoa is never so friendly with strangers. It usually takes him a long time to stop being alert and wary...but he seems to like you.”

Cocoa licked Sirius’ face as if to confirm that statement, making Sirius laugh again.

“Of course he does. We’re the same, aren’t we boy?”

“What do you mean?” Remus asked, still looking slightly disoriented.

“Well, I’m named after the dog star, aren’t I? And I’m a Black,” he gestured between himself and Cocoa as if he was stating something obvious.

The corners of Remus’ lips lifted up like he was trying really hard not to smile.

“Oh my God, that’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard!” he said, covering his mouth with a hand.

“You can deny it all you want, but he loves me.”

Cocoa inched even closer to Sirius and put his nose on the box that was still in his hand.

“Oh no, that’s not for you. Sorry, boy.”

“I’ve actually been meaning to ask, but what exactly is that?” Remus frowned.

“Oh, right.” Sirius petted Cocoa one last time and got up, fidgeting with the paper covering the present he’d brought. “Well, this is why I wanted to talk to you. I um…I only found out a few days ago that you were the person I bumped into that day. I just wanted to make amends.”

He handed Remus the big square package and waited anxiously as the other man narrowed his eyes at him and started ripping the paper off. He was pretty confident in the choice he’d made, but he hoped Remus would like it.

“What the hell is this?”

Remus was staring down at the landscape peeking out of the torn paper: a beautiful impressionist rendition of a full moon over a waterfall, with a pack of wolves peeking out of a forest. It was very well done, and not at all deserving of the glare Remus was throwing its way. Sirius’ head was reeling. How did he manage to make someone so kind and polite react in this way every time?

“I know it’s not the same as the one I broke, but I-”

“Damn right it’s not!” Remus snapped. His hands were shaking. Cocoa seemed to sense something was wrong, cause he was there in an instant, standing in front of Remus, trying to find where the threat was. Remus plunged on, his voice rising with an emotion Sirius couldn’t place, “My mum made that for me! You think you can just replace it with any expensive crap? You can’t possibly believe this is the same as something that meant so much to me, something that kept me going during-” Remus cut himself off and looked up to the ceiling. He was breathing hard, rubbing his temple with one hand while he held the painting in the other.

“I...I didn’t know. I… fuck,” Sirius closed his eyes, cursing himself, before looking pleadingly at Remus, trying to convey his emotions properly. “I’m so, so sorry. I never intended it to be a replacement. I...I just wanted to apologise.”

He’d fucked up. He’d fucked up royally before he’d even properly met the guy, all because he couldn’t control his bad temper. He should probably go before making things worse. But he didn’t want to. He’d come here to make everything better, not to leave things like this. Glancing around to buy some time, he tried to think of a way to reverse the situation.

His eyes found something and, without even thinking about it, he blurted, “oh, so you bought the game?”

“What?” 

Sirius pointed awkwardly to the NHL game box sitting on top of the coffee table. “I know we started on the wrong foot, but maybe we can have a rematch? Break the ice with something we’re both comfortable with?”

Remus stared at him like he was crazy. Maybe he was right, but Sirius was anything if not determined.

“Remus, I’m trying, ok? Just...I have cookies?” He shook the box hopefully, making the cookies rattle inside.

Remus took a deep breath, thinking it over as he stared at Sirius. He heaved a sigh when he reached a conclusion, his chest deflating as some of the anger left his body. "Fine."

He gestured for Sirius to take a seat while he went over to place the half-opened package in another room. Sirius opened the box of cookies and left it on the coffee table before sitting down on the couch, tapping his fingers over his legs as he waited.

The couch was probably big enough for three people, but when Remus walked over, he eyed the free spot next to Sirius and sat on the floor in front of the table instead.

Well, their thighs were definitely not touching this time.

The air was so tense as Remus started up the game, that Sirius thought it would snap and hit them both in the face.

Cocoa padded over and jumped onto the sofa, placing his head on Sirius' lap.

"Traitor," Remus muttered, making Sirius snort despite the heavy atmosphere. From where he was sitting, Sirius could only see his profile, but he was sure he saw the man throw a sideway glance at him and purse his lips. He reached over to grab a cookie, biting into it with extra force, and he instantly pulled a face. "These cookies suck."

Sirius was surprised by such a blatant answer. He leaned forward on his elbows, placing his chin on his hands to try and hide the blush he could feel creeping up his neck.

"They can't be that bad." He snatched one from the box, propping it in his mouth under Remus' attentive eyes, and instantly started coughing. "Oh my god."

"Where the hell did you buy them?"

"How did they turn out so bad?!"

"Wait…" Remus turned to look at him fully, his lips pressed in a thin line to suppress a smile, "did you make these?"

"No," Sirius replied instantly.

"Oh God, you did!"

"Très bien, je les ai faits! I'm sorry I offended you with my awful cooking skills, I just wanted to give you the neighbourly welcome I owed you, d'accord?"

"What are you, 60? Minnie from the floor below made biscuits for me when I moved in."

Sirius sputtered, placing a hand over his heart, "what?! She never made cookies for me!"

“It’s not a competition, jeez.”

“But I wanted cookies,” Sirius pouted.

“You can have these,” Remus deadpanned as he flicked the box.

“Ugh, stop that. That’s the last time I try doing something nice for you,” he grumbled. Remus looked stunned for a second before he turned away.

It was quiet while each of them chose their team and started playing. They were a lot more relaxed in their game than they'd been last time, although that didn't mean they weren't giving it their best.

After a while of being absolutely silent, Sirius sighed. He felt Remus throw a quick side glance at him before looking back at the front.

"I owe you another apology."

The sound of the buttons being pressed and the low noises from the TV were the only things that could be heard as they both stared stubbornly at the screen.

"What for?"

"I've been an ass."

"Yeah, you have."

Sirius chuckled once, "yeah, I have," he said softly. He ran a hand through his hair, checking the score. He was winning, but he didn't really care this time around. "My family...they don't approve of my line of work. I'm not trying to make excuses for my behavior or anything, I just...I was having a really rough time that day." Remus raised an eyebrow at the TV, making Sirius laugh again, "and the days after that too. Damn, my friends had to check up on me every day to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid.” He glanced down nervously, afraid that he’d said too much, but Remus was still staring at the tiny players. “I just needed to get out of the flat as fast as possible. I wanted to apologise afterwards, but I didn't even know it was you. Bottom line is, I am on edge whenever they get involved in my life, and I act stupidly, and I am sorry you got caught up in that. I promise I am working on it."

Remus was silent for a few minutes, mulling something over in his head.

"Hospital," he whispered finally.

"What?"

"I was in the hospital when my mum gave me that." He hesitated before saying more. Sirius wanted to see what expression he was making. "I was stuck there for a long time, alone, and that painting was the only thing that kept me from feeling trapped. It helped me calm down."

Sirius’ heart gave a painful tug at the desolation in Remus’ voice. He had no idea how they’d gotten into this heart-to-heart moment, but his hand instinctively left the controller as he bent down to place it on top of Remus’, giving it a light squeeze.

Remus was startled, finally turning to look at Sirius. The sounds from the game kept ringing in the background, but none of them were looking at it anymore.

“I really am sorry,” he said, gazing intently at him. Remus’ eyes were the richest shade of gold he’d ever seen, glowing warmly, and Sirius was sure that he could light up even the darkest corners of his being. How had he not noticed this before?

The room went a bit colder when those eyes left his to glance at their hands.

“Are you ok?” Sirius asked.

“Yeah, I just-” Remus removed his hand to rub at his neck. “I have things to do. You should go.”

It was clearly a lie, and Sirius knew not to push it.

As he made his way back to his own flat, he had no idea if he’d fixed anything or if he’d just made everything worse.

[belovvved]

!!Emergency!! Unsafe Housing Situation/No Transportation!!!!Help a Non-Binary Artist achieve relative comfort!!!

I wish that none of this was real, and that I don't need help. I don't even know where to begin. But I'm trying to open up, I can't keep trying to do everything alone.

PLEASE BOOST... if you cannot donate or help me find resources in my city (San Antonio, Texas)

CASHAPP: $citrinebat ZELLE: freedumb210@gmail.com

Any advice or resources will be much appreciated.

I grew up never speaking out because I would always get silenced, my parents are good at manipulating others to believe that they are decent people. I am not welcomed or safe at home.

Basically, I was born to two teenage parents that weren't ready to have children or mature enough to be with each other.

I grew up seeing my mom get abused by my dad verbally, physically, and emotionally. I would always stick up for her, and so the relationship between my father and I has never existed... In fact he hates me for being outspoken, and protective. My mother takes out her stress and abuse on me too. She's tried drowning me when I was 8 and I found out later from my aunt. My mother has Stockholm syndrome, she even went so far as to take a felony for him and has not had a job in years.

It has been my whole life, and I'm the oldest out of 5 including myself. Many times I've tried helping my mom, only to have her hurt me again in some sort of way- by going back to my dad, borrowing money, gambling, drinking etc. She never admits her faults, and plays victim which is something I am not trying to do.

I still cannot believe that this is what has become of the family I romanticized. I've discovered that my parents, and brother are severely mentally ill- my parents take prescription pills that aren't theirs... some of which I do not know completely. My brother has become psychotic and has black-out rages where he hurts someone in the family or breaks things around the house.

In the past I always had to lean on other relatives (now passed) for support or past partners- (which I do not want to do anymore).

I left as soon as I graduated from school in 2018 (Summa Cum Laude). I wanted to pursue going to art school or architecture. But I couldn't due to the fact that my dad sold drugs and his taxes weren't accepted in FASFA. I had to wait until I turn 21 to file independently but even when this came around (Oct.2020) I wasn't prepared in anyway possible to pursue higher education.

-Things in the past were manageable, because I had my Grandma who supported me in everyway possible while she worked two jobs. She took me and my 4 siblings to and from school. While my parents stayed at home sleeping. She did everything she could for us, and then in 2019 she was diagnosed with cancer and died within 3 weeks, inside of the home I am currently living in.

She bought me a car before right before she died- which my mom used whenever she wanted to in order to escape from my dad momentarily. It had 56k miles at first and I never got to drive it until 100k+ miles. By the time I got it back, my mom cracked the windshield and stained the interior. It got repoed after 3 months of me using it because my grandfather left the country in 2020 to pursue his new wife (in her 20's) and his new family. He stopped paying on the car without telling me, and didn't transfer the title to me, so I had no way of preventing anything.

My only source of transportation was taken from me in March 2021. So I lost my job, my car... and I need help because I have to start all over.

I currently live at my Grandma's house where she passed away inside of the living room. The a/c has been broken since last summer (2020) and there is no heat or hot water and I just endured that during the Texas Winter Storm.

Whenever my Grandfather returns from out of the country I will have to find a place to stay but that means making 2-3x the rent and having a job for at least six months. I cannot return home because my brother is a reflection of my abusive father and I DO NOT FEEL SAFE being around him.

My brother has broken a window on me, physically has hurt me more than once. My dad calls me a whore + so many other worse things. My mom borrows money from me and gambles, and drinks. Just uses me to babysit and has made me quit my art internships in Highschool to babysit while she goes out with friends at the bar

I have been trying to sell art, and nudes in order to get a car... so that way I can try having a job. I have facial piercings and tattoos on my hands so everything is difficult.

The only thing I am at fault for is my way of coping. It's hard to foresee a future for yourself when you're living with trauma...

I didn't want to believe that my parent's don't care but after losing my job and car in March 2021, my mom has not since checked up on me or asked if I was okay. In fact has asked me to borrow money, (she usually doesn't pay back) My dad fixes A/C for a living, and has not fixed the A/C for me since last year.

My mental health is starting to take a toll on me lately and I don't want to end up in the Psych ward again..... Luckily I have a few really amazing, supportive, loving friends. But everyone has their own lives and I can't depend on anyone. I wish I could be the person helping them.

I don't want to take from others who cannot give. I want to be able to have transportation, pursue school, and also feel comfortable and safe where I am living. Past partners know where I stay, and so does my abusive brother and I live in fear of them coming over uninvited.

Please help me get to a place where I can truly grow, and flourish. Please help me feel unashamed about speaking up and asking for help. My dreams are to start a nonprofit for domestic violence victims, foster animals, and start or be apart of a printing press for creatives.

I sell art and make music in my freetime. I lost my only support system a little over a year ago and since then it has been super difficult trying to do things on my own, and I'm tired of depending on sexual partners for help (+ experiencing rape/sexual trauma), as a NONBINARY person being perceived as anything less than a soul is painful.

You can support me by commissioning or purchasing art here. Or donating anything will help- everything goes to my phone bill, food. I am on my last $500. I am really worried because lyfts and ubers add up, and I am uncertain of when I can find a job that will hire me due to my self expression.

Thank you for reading.

[fromthehellmouth]

One for Sorrow, Two for Mirth

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: Maledictus! Femme! Gryffindor! oc. Regrettably, there is so much angst... Part One!

Maledictus prompt requested by @hyacinthsandbooks I had so much fun creating this character, thanks for the prompt! Feedback is greatly appreciated! 

Drawing by me and inspired by scenes from the story. I hope you enjoy!

Overview: 

Tom Riddle befriends an unlikely victim of a powerful blood curse

I had increasingly found myself in a perpetual state of insomnia and dread. There was almost nothing I could occupy my mind with that would take it from my lingering anxiety and melancholia surrounding my condition. My nights were long and restless, and I had to become endlessly creative in order to find ways that would keep me out of trouble as well as keeping me occupied during the long dark nights in the Gryffindor common room alone past curfew. Often, it would result in me exploring the castle grounds in my other form, or writing down my thoughts to pass the time. Perhaps it was the concept of literature that I would gravitate to because of its mysterious qualities of immortality. It was chilling but also somewhat comforting to know that my works would remain with me far after I had irreversibly changed. It was not something I liked to dwell on, but it was something that I knew I could not escape from--it was always there, nagging, prodding, looming over my decisions, my psyche--it was a horribly cruel curse. 

Over a century ago my family had gotten involved with a group of vengeful wizards who were known for their adaptations of some of the darkest corners of the dark arts. They fled the country but the curse went with them. Once a curse of that strength had penetrated its way into your bloodline, it would permanently dwell there, feeding off you, like a tumor, like a degenerative disease, like a leech, essentially, it declared its power with its name; it was a blood curse. It was only a matter of years before there would be nothing more I could do, and I would have to accept my change and my fate with it. At least there was no need to study for N.E.W.Ts. My parents had begged me for years not to accept such a pessimistic attitude, to care about my studies, my dreams, and my aspirations. Over the past few months, through our owl correspondence, I felt they had lost the motivation to keep pestering me about a life that had been taken from me the moment my grandmother told me what I was: a maledictus. 

Fortunately, at this point in my development, my transformations were still voluntary. When I was very young, I remember having frequent visits to the Ministry of Magic with my parents. They would have me seen by famous dark wizard catchers, legendary curse-breakers, healers, and talented seers. From the beginning we knew there was no known cure for this type of blood curse, but I think the little security the aurors offered was necessary for my parents to hold onto. They needed expert opinions, that unfortunately would continue to tell them there was nothing to be done. Of course, my childhood self had virtually no knowledge of the severity of my condition, and thought it was simply enchanting to see mommy and daddy’s workplace.

Since my first year at Hogwarts, I had told no one about my condition except headmaster Dippet, professor Stump—my head of house, and professor Merrythought who was an expert in the dark arts because after all, she was the DADA teacher. I liked professor Merrythought quite a bit. She was an older woman with grey-blonde hair pinned back in a loose braided bun which she always had hairs escaping from. She was one of the few people who did not immediately resort to pity and fear when I told her what my bloodline had been cursed with. She was calm and interested, she told me how special I was and got me involved into studying more about blood disorders involving dark magic. Unfortunately, there had been rumors of her leaving Hogwarts and retiring—yet another thing I would be attempting to repress. My mind had become an expert at most coping mechanisms, my methods of choice being denial, repression, and sublimation--primarily writing. 

In a sense, knowing my future was carved into stone was somewhat freeing. It allowed me to live fully and completely in the moment, and not have to plan or study for my future. In another sense, the looming dread was very real, and seemed to be working its way into the grooves of my personality--settling in the fine lines of my psyche. My dull despair had become a part of me. I never doubted my purposelessness until I met Tom Riddle. 

***

It was nearly 1:45am when I noticed his figure contrasted against the shamrock-green hills. In a defeated attempt to become more comfortable with my animal form, I had begun to fly over the castle grounds more recently during the night when I felt my insomnia had become too much for me to ignore by lounging in the Gryffindor common room long after the other students had taken leave. I was never in the mind of being rebellious or secretive, and I was almost positive that if I had told professor Merrythought, she would have kept the sensitivity of my travels safe. Spotting a dark-clothed figure, I circled closer, still keeping my distance. Edging in tiny fractions closer to the tops of the forbidden forest’s trees, I made my way closer to the figure. I was presently slightly concerned for encountering the kind of person who would be coming from the forbidden forest at nearly 2 o’clock in the morning, but my growing curiosity controlled me, and I eyed the figure from above, still slowly cruising lower and lower. When I had reached the grass, the figure had entered the covered corridor leading to the clock tower, and I decided to present myself to the figure who couldn’t have been more than 6 feet away from me. It was always fun to play out a little scare. I let out a shrill, stuttering call. The figure froze, spinning swiftly with a hand to his mouth. I could see his shoulders quivering as he stared at me. 

“...it’s just a magpie, Tom...” he whispered to himself as if he needed convincing. As he turned to face me, I immediately recognized him as a popular Slytherin boy from... history of magic...? divination...?

“Unless...” 

Defense against the dark arts. That was it. 

“Are you... an animagus?” 

I froze. How could he have known? There was no way he could have known... Silently and immediately I flew back outside the covered corridor back into the open air, and faster than I had ever flew before, I found my way back to the Gryffindor tower, perching on the windowsill I had left open, dropping inside, and in the darkness transforming back into a student and swiftly slipping under the thick covers, I fell asleep suprisingly effortlessly. 

***

In the morning I awoke earlier than usual. It was as if my mind knew I had been gifted with a long sleep and didn’t want me to get comfortable. I had become accustomed to falling asleep late and waking up early—both situations leaving me awake while the rest of the castle lay unconscious. I put on my uniform and brushed out my hair. I found that the more I transformed, the silkier my hair had become, it was as if the strands were becoming more feather-like, and tended to reflect the light more. I had gotten nearly a dozen requests for the enchantment I had used, always leaving me with an awkward and less than satisfactory “it must just be oily.” I descended the stairs to the common room where I read the clock.

5:30.

Defeatedly, I gathered all my schoolbooks and began to review the material for my first class of the day. Herbology.

***

I decided to take a walk to the kitchens to pick up a cup of tea before breakfast, which begun at 9am each morning. I still had a few hours before breakfast, so after I made myself a cup I circled back to the clock tower courtyard near where I had departed from the boy I had followed last night. I sat on the ledge of the fountain and began to re-read the textbook required for this upcoming unit in herbology on uses and cautions of aquatic plants. We would be taking a guided field trip to the Black Lake for research, which I was quite excited for. While my eyes danced across the finely-scripted writing in the yellowing book, my mind wandered to last night. I found myself retracing my steps, and visualizing the boy’s face above me, shocked and intrigued. What did he know?

***

After herbology class, which had been held at the Black Lake, I followed the mass of students back to the main castle grounds. My days at school were mostly spent alone either studying or hopelessly wandering in my mind to places where I no longer had to abandon my future. I recognized very few people as friends, and I stood out from my fun-loving, reckless, and colorful housemates. It was as if my natural personality I remembered glimpses of from childhood had been veiled with a layer of plaque, tarnished and dusty. I didn't mind the aloneness. I often felt most secure when I didn’t need to reveal my secret to anyone, and was able to choose my schedule the way I saw fit. Back in the castle, I followed my normal crowd of Gryffindors who I shared my first two classes with. These were the students who I sat with at meals, went to study parties with, sat in the common room after hours with, but never ended up knowing very well. It was a polite relationship. They asked me what I thought about our next class’ lesson. 

“Can’t say I’m excited.” I rolled my eyes, my hands rested deep in the pockets of my skirt. 

“Don’t want people to know what you’re scared of?” 

“Must be it.” 

Defense against the dark arts with professor Merrythought was next, and the notorious lesson on boggarts had been expected by most students for months. Undoubtedly there was excitement for exposure to mysterious and dark creatures as well as teasing material for students with childish fears. I couldn’t help think of the boy I had encountered by the clock tower who I would inevitably see again this upcoming class. I hoped my nervous habits would not give me away as suspicious. For some reason, I felt the need to be wary of him.

***

The classroom had been completely rearranged for the upcoming lesson, with the chairs and desks pushed to either side of the long room, and professor Merrythought’s figure standing in the back near a large ornate chest. As the students trickled in, the rumblings of the crowd grew louder as giggles and anticipation filled the cold air. My hands wrapped around my arms as I attempted to retain my warmth. 

Am I the only one who notices that draft?

Merrythought calmed us down and begun her lecture on the history of the discovery and initial magical responses to the boggart. It takes the image of what you most fear... Its true form has never been seen... It withers at the sound of laughter... The students got called up one at a time as she showed us the counter-curse Riddikulus! which would obstruct the boggart’s form and intercept its visual manipulation. Riddikulus! the steep chasm of a split cliff lets out a nasty fart and the room explodes in laughter. Riddikulus! a swarm of wasps turn into winged lemons and drop to the floor, rolling around and colliding with each other, and the class cackles. 

Godric, would she just close that bloody window?!

“Lucia!” the room’s roaring died down and I felt my face turn red hot. My stomach twisted and contorted within me and my walk was feeble as I approached the large chest. 

“And when the boggart is released, remember the incantation!” I swallowed hard and in a second, the lid of the chest flew open and a swirling silvery mass flew toward me and shifted into a bird, its head, beak, and breast were black mimicking a raven, but its belly was white and the under-feathers of the wings and long elegant tail that caught the light shimmered hints of deep phthalo green and royal Prussian blue. The bird began to lunge toward me and in a panic I shouted the incantation much louder than I expected. 

“Riddikulus!!” The bird’s feathers erupt in every direction, leaving the creature completely bald and resembling an uncooked chicken, struggling to stay suspended in the air. The class giggled and Merrythought propelled the creature back into the chest and called forward the next student as I slipped back into the crowd. 

“Tom!” The boy approached the chest in a single fluid moment. He wore his school robes to every class unlike the majority of students who only wore the required minimum of a blouse, sweater and trousers or skirt. He stood out not only because of his height but because his ebony-black hair glistened under the  lantern-lit room. His robes seemed to be an extension of his broad square shoulders, and as he readied his wand I felt the room muffle in an unnatural stillness. The boggart shifted into the body of a young boy, with the same black hair as Tom, the same pale skin and full, pink lips, but the boy’s eyes were closed, his face was hollowed and gaunt, and he was lying on the floor, seemingly lifeless. The class seemed to collectively hold its breath as the dead body of a young boy nearly identical to the older Tom lay before us. Tom lifted his wand and smoothly uttered, 

“Riddikulus.” The black robes along with the body of the boy melted into a thick black bubbling slime that seemed to shake and bounce slightly. This time there was no laughter. There was no reaction. Professor Merrythought quickly swooped up the transformed boggart with her wand and tossed it with a graceful flick back into the large chest. 

“Well done class! Quite the show. That’s the end of the lesson for today, we’ll continue where we left off tomorrow!” The students murmured with the abrupt dismissal and I couldn’t help myself from straying my gaze to look at Tom. To my instant shock his piercing aquamarine eyes shot right back at me and I almost let out an audible gasp at the sudden intensity of his stare. I felt my heart-rate race and I nearly ran from the classroom. 

*** 

Later that night my mind was racing, I had to know what he knew, why he had stared at me back in class, did he know I was the bird who had followed him last night? I sat by the crackling fireplace of the Gryffindor common room. The clock read “12:10,” and there was only one girl left in my company. She sat at the other corner of the room and I could hear the shuffling of books which meant I would soon be alone and she would be going to sleep. I caught myself staring into the flames, the fire dancing and glittering into smoke and stray glowing embers. 

“Goodnight!” the girl called out as she ascended the stairs to the dorms. 

“Goodnight.” I replied, my voice was tired but my mind was wide awake. My eyes lazily flew over the spread of books before me. 

There was no way I would be able to study with Tom on my mind. 

I couldn’t stop thinking about the way his bright eyes flashed in that cold room. It was as if the only thing my head could focus on were those piercing eyes and the image of that magpie lunging right toward me.

If you’d like to read Part Two, click here

Tags: @tmr-simp-pride

[victoria-daydreams]

Of Vices and Virtues

Chapter Ten: Old Wounds

AN: I really don’t know what to say here, other than enjoy!

Word Count: 4.3k

Trigger Warnings: unhealthy coping mechanisms?

Taglist: @azayamari

Chapter Eleven: Bottled Up

"Claudia," Erik called. "I'm bored,"

We were sitting in Central Park where I sat on a bench enjoying the fall season of New York. The sound of children playing freely with their parents was all around me, and I couldn't help but to wish that was the childhood I had. So carefree, so normal.

"And what does that have to do with me?" I asked, too immersed in my reading to look up.

"I'd figured that maybe you would entertain me," Erik suggested.

I rolled my eyes and chuckled before I continued my reading, switching from both hands holding the novel to my left hand holding it open as I bit the nail of my right thumb.

"If you wanted entertainment, you should have stayed with Moira and Charles to watch the musicians playing," I reminded dryly, finally looking up from my book and turning my head to follow the sound violins being played beautifully.

They played Bach and Handel, then they moved to Mozart, and then they played some pieces that I was unable to identify, possibly compositions of their own. Their fingers moved as if they were dancing over the necks of the violins, the notes filled the air. The sound of high pitched laughter broke the daze I had gone into and my eyes darted to the source of it. A smile graced my lips as I watched a group of children playing tag with each other.

Erik followed my gaze, "How you ever thought about it?" he asked, looking over at me.

"Thought about what?" I asked back, turning my head to him.

"Having children of your own?"

"Maybe," I answered, slightly shrugging my shoulders. "If the world wasn't so cruel," I continued, sighing heavily. "I wouldn't want to raise my child in an environment that hates them the moment they're born," I added, shaking my head. "What about you? Do you want children?" I questioned, closing my copy of The Great Gatsby.

"I do," Erik answered, and I raised my eyebrows in shock.

"Boy or girl?" I asked again, turning my body to face him.

"Girl,"

"Aww, who knew that someone like Erik Lehnsherr would want a little baby girl," I teased, a smile on my face and Erik just rolled his eyes at me. "She'll be in good hands and well taken care of, she'll have a better childhood than the both of us," I proposed, nodding my head with a grin.

We sat in silence for a moment, Erik, I could feel him watching me, but I was too preoccupied by staring off into space, chewing on my bottom lip. Thinking of what could have been with my own family.

"Bombing aside," Erik began pulling me back to reality. "Did you have a happy childhood?" he asked, draping his arm over the back of the park bench, his body now facing my own.

"Bombing aside," I repeated, cocking my head to the side. "I would say I had a decent childhood," I corrected. "Until I was seven," I remembered, my hand closing and forming a fist.

"What happened when you were seven?"

"I found out that I was different from most kids," I stated quietly, a tight-lipped smile appearing on my face.

A high pitched squeal escaped from my mouth as I kicked the ball back to my dad before I ran around our small backyard the grass tickling my feet. A wide smile on my face as my bare feet hit the cool green surface, my toes digging into the earth. A bright yellow spot caught my eye, surrounded by a sea of green grass. I forced myself to slow down and stopped at the yellow dot, bending down I realized it was a dandelion. My grin grew wider and I snatched it from the ground, raising up from the ground I turned to the back porch where my mom and grandma were residing.

"Mama, look!" I yelled, proudly displaying my dandelion.

Mama lifted her head up from the sleeping of bundle of my sister and smiled at me, "That's so pretty, Claudia!" Mama cheered, and I nodded my head vigorously in agreement.

"Claudia watch out!" Daddy shouted.

I turned my head immediately to the sound of his voice and the ball we had been kicking was on a straight path to my face. I let out a shriek and threw my hands out to protect myself. And just like that, it seemed like time froze. I peeked behind my raised arms and gasped, the ball hadn't hit me, instead the ball was suspended in midair surrounded in a pretty shade of violet. Confused, I lowered my arms and was shocked to see the ball slowly coming closer to the ground as I moved my arms down; I was controlling whatever force held it. I lowered the ball to the ground gently, before releasing the force around the ball.

"Mama, Daddy! Did you see what I did?" I asked excitedly.

No one answered me. It was dead quiet and I swallowed nervously, as I looked at my parents and Grandma. Mama had her hand covering her mouth and her eyes were wide open, filling up with tears. Seconds later Daddy was at my side. Grandma got to her knees, before clasping her hands together and began praying quietly.

"Claudia, what did you do?" Mama asked, in the most frightened tone I had ever heard her use.

"I knew my parents were horrified, even my father, although he never let it show. I mean why wouldn't he be. What I could do...it wasn't exactly normal behavior," I recalled, a mirthless laugh escaping my mouth.

"They didn't disown you, I hope?" Erik asked, a frown appearing on his face.

"Luckily, they didn't. Could you imagine throwing your seven year-old daughter out the house?" I speculated, knitting my eyebrows together. "That would be horrific!" I exclaimed.

"What did your parents do after witnessing your ability? How did they react?" Erik questioned.

"They told me they loved me regardless..." I trailed off.

Daddy knelt down in front of me and grasped my small shoulders, inspecting me closely, "Claudia…sweetheart…Mama and I want you to stay quiet about this. Alright?"

I frowned at what Daddy asked, "But why? It's amazing and so pretty!"

Mama knelt down beside Daddy and gave me a small, sad smile, "Yes, it is. But you have to understand something...sometimes...people get scared of things they don't understand," Mama explained gently.

I tilted my head to the side as I processed what Mama just said, "Why would people be scared?"

"That's hard to explain, honey. Personally...we don't know of anyone that has a...gift...like you do. If you showed others, they may react badly to it and they might hurt you," Mama tried to further explain to me.

I looked down at the ground. I had noticed Mama's hesitation about using the word gift. It made me wonder. "Are you scared of me now?"

At my question, both Mama and Daddy embraced me tightly. "No. No we're not," Daddy said with conviction.

"But you didn't believe them, did you?"

"You know what? I did actually. It was what my Grandma said that made questioned my parents true feelings about my mutation," I admitted.

"What did she say?"

"She told me that one day there will be a cure for me," I spat, recalling my Grandma's words. "I thought that would be the worst thing she would say to me, but oh how wrong I was," I went on, shaking my head.

"I take it you developed your empathic powers soon after," Erik guessed.

I nodded, "Two weeks had barely passed after my telekinetic incident, when I started to get these horrible headaches," I explained, my expression darkening. "That's when I began to pick up on emotions that weren't mine. I had told my parent's that I could feel their emotions as they passed through their minds. Of course, at first, they assumed I was playing around but after proving my talent to them both, they were shaken," I added.

I shook my head again, thinking back to how it had taken my family quite a while to get used to my empathy. To realize that a pain in your chest caused by the anguish that suddenly rose from no where was not your own, but someone else's. It was a violation in a way, and one that made my family hesitant to be near me.

"My grandma turned completely hostile toward me. In an attempt to get rid of me, my grandma suggested that they send me to psych ward because I was having a a mental breakdown," I stated, crinkling my noise in disgust while shaking my head. "God Erik, why did you ruin this beautiful day by making me recall my childhood," I groaned, running hand through my hair. "Now I actually need some entertainment," I mentioned, standing up from the wooden bench and walking away from him.

"Claudia, wait," Erik called, and I could hear his footsteps jogging behind me. "Come on, you know that was never my intention," he reasoned, falling in line with my stride.

Sighing, I looked over at him and nodded my head, "I know," I agreed. "You know I can be over dramatic," I breathed, my lips quirking up into a small smile.

A cool breeze blew through the trees of Central Park, bringing with it a flurry of freshly fallen leaves which stood a stark contrast to flocks of lively birds making their way steadily northward. My eyes scanned my surroundings, people were about the park as always, going about their business as only New Yorkers truly could.

"Erik," I began, sliding my book into my coat pocket. "Do you think I'm going crazy?" I asked randomly, facing him again

He cocked an eyebrow and laughed, "What? No," Erik answered, shaking his head with a smile. "I haven't seen one sign that you're losing your mind," he continued, his smile widening. "A strange question to ask Claudia, I have to say," Erik stated, with a chuckle.

I shrugged, "I have a feeling that Charles thinks I'm going crazy," I theorized, interlocking my fingers together behind my back.

"Don't be ridiculous Claudia," Erik grinned. "What would ever make you think that?" he inquired, letting out a hearty laugh.

"Why else do you think we took this impromptu trip here?" I pointed out, unlinking my fingers and sticking my hand in front of me. "He means wells, but all because I was distant two days ago, he's been like a mother hen," I complained, beginning to fiddle with the amber charm of my necklace. "Always watching me from over my shoulder and monitoring me. I haven't been able to really use my empathic powers because all Charles wants to do is focus on my telekinesis," I finished, a slight scowl appearing on my face.

"Here's a crazy thought, maybe he's just worried about you, Claudia," Erik replied sarcastically. "You have been a lot training these past two days, one would say too hard. You're not eating a lot, I noticed that you're up later than you usually are," he listed, ticking them off with his fingers. "Not to mention your temper has been shorter than usual," Erik remembered.

"I am not up late," I argued, knowing that the dark circles underneath my eyes I hid beneath my makeup showed all of the signs of restless night's sleep. "Nor have I been short of temper lately," I insisted, crossing my arms together.

"You cut your lights off at 11:00 pm on the dot every night. Recently, your lights have been on up until 1:00 am," Erik deadpanned, giving me a knowing look and my brow rose. "Yes, I've noticed that," he added, answering my silent question.

I really couldn't help myself from asking, "Oh, so you notice things about me?" I questioned grinning. "Because usually I have to tell you when you should look for something," I added, still grinning.

Erik rolled his eyes and laughed, "I notice things about everyone," he replied, and then looked at me slyly. "But I maybe paying some...extra attention to you,"

We proceeded down the walkway not sure where I wanted to go, but I wanted to be somewhere. I came across one of the many fountains in Central Park and lowered my hand into the water and ran the tips of my fingers over it. A thought crossed my mind and I lifted my hand, flicking water at Erik and drew back from the onslaught of the water droplets.

"You're such a child," Erik commented, his lips curving into a smile as he went to grab for my hand which I easily spun away from.

"I try to be," I smiled back.

I moved off the cement path and walked onto the seemingly endless lawn of the park. I made my way further onto the grass until we come near a thick grove of oak trees interspersed with some hearty pines. There were people spread out all over the field of all sorts, around the clearing's edges parents watched their children idly. Women read magazines or gossiped with one another while men ate their lunches or smoked amongst the trees, college students were laid on picnic blankets or throwing a football around.

Sticking my hand out I began to trace the rough bark of the tree next to me, beginning to walk in a circle. I closed my eyes and let my hand guide me around the tree, circling the tree twice in blissful content.

"May I ask what you're doing?" Erik asked, stopping me in my tracks and I opened my eyes, he was standing next to me, an amused expression painted on his face.

I glanced at him and smirked, "Whatever I want I suppose," I answered, continuing on my path around the tree.

Erik began to circle the tree as well only he went the opposite way, "And what is it that you want Miss Walker?" he inquired.

"I'm in need of some entertainment, just like you," I answered, turning around to meet Erik in front of the tree. He abruptly stopped once he saw me, our fingers brushed together momentarily before I leaned my back against the tree, looking at him with a mischievous grin.

"What are you about to do?"

"That man can't remember if it's his wife's birthday or their anniversary," I informed, still grinning.

I pointed to a bald middle-aged man who walked to the right of us with a confused, thoughtful look on his face.

Erik continued to look at me confused, "What?"

I slid my hands into my coat pockets jut as another gust of the autumn breeze swept past me, causing me to shiver and sigh contentedly as it ruffled my dark hair. I closed my eyes for a split second before opening them.

"That woman, over there? Found out that her boyfriend was cheating on her. Nice right hook, that one," I commented smirking, before shifting gaze away from the woman. "And that man..." I trailed off, as he happened to look back to where we were.

He was a tall, young man probably the same age I was, his blond hair was tousled most likely from the breeze which framed his blue eyes along with his square jaw. He shot me a wonky grin and I just smirked and wiggled my fingers giving him a small wave as I stared into his eyes, scrapping what I had originally planned to do and formulating a new way to have some fun.

"What are you doing?" Erik murmured from beside me.

"Just watch,"

Suddenly, the football he had been previously throwing came sailing back towards him and striking him on the back of the head. The man flinched and let out a groan of pain, rubbing the back of his head.

"Hey man, what the hell!" he exclaimed. His friend glanced over at me, seeing that I'm the reason why the blond-haired man didn't see the football coming. "Are you blind? Why didn't you hold the ball?" he asked angrily, storming over to his friend.

"Relax Aaron," the friend snickered. "Stop ogling at a girl and pay attention next time," he suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

"You've got a problem, Luke?" Aaron asked, getting up in his friend's face.

"No, I think you have a problem," Luke said, shoving Aaron away from him.

I turned my head to Erik, "Are you entertained?" I asked grinning proudly, and Erik let out a short laugh.

I suddenly became aware of another presence near me and my head turned and gazed up at Charles.

"There you two are, everyone was wondering where you had gone off to," Charles greeted, a relieved smile on his face. "What are you two doing?" he asked curiously, his eyes bouncing between Erik and I.

"Oh, we're just watching a bit of entertainment," I answered, a smirk on my face. "Right Erik?" I asked, glancing up at him.

"That would be correct," Erik confirmed.

Charles looked over at me and followed my gaze, watching the shoving match between the two men.

"Oh my God, Claudia please don't tell me this is your doing?" Charles questioned, his eyes back on me now.

I turned my head to Charles, his was mouth set in a firm grimace, "What can I say? We were bored," I explained nonchalantly, with a shrug.

"That's enough Claudia, you've had your fun now," Charles declared.

"Hold on Charles, I think she's onto something," Erik disagreed, raising his index finger up. "No one is even paying attention to them," Erik pointed out.

"I'll never not be amazed with my powers," I remarked, looking around at people going about their day not noticing the fight happening in front of their eyes. "A little inducement of calmness works wonders," I mused, folding my arms together.

Within a blink of the eye, Aaron swung his fist out and it connected with Luke's face, sending him to the ground.

"Hell of a right hook," I observed, as Aaron got on top of Luke to continue his pummeling.

"Claudia!"

"You know Erik, I once made a man punch himself," I informed, glancing over at him. "One night I had this drunk customer screaming in my face, and I grew angry enough that I imagined punching him, and he somehow punched himself," I recounted, thinking back to my diner job as a teenager.

"Impressive," Erik chuckled.

"You should see what happens when I sing, with my power," I boasted, walking ahead a little bit to get a closer look at the two men on the ground.

I went to take another step forward, but hand held me back, keeping a tight hold onto my wrist. I looked back to see who the culprit was just as the wind gently ruffled my hair as I met the stern stare of a dreamy blue-eyed familiar face.

"Claudia, stop it," Charles demanded, his voice dropping an octave.

Sighing, I finally gave in, "Fine," I agreed, turning my head back to the men and restored their peaceful state of mind.

Charles glanced at Erik and I for a moment, and we all share a look.

"Let's go," Charles ordered.

~~~x~~~

"Hey, do you know what's wrong with Charles?" Raven asked, as she pushed the barbell up and back onto the rack. "He's been upset ever since we came back from the park," she commented, maneuvering her way from under the bar and sitting up.

I paused mid crunch and relaxed, looking between my legs to look at Raven, "Yes," I answered, sitting up and hugging my knees. "I'm the reason he's upset," I confessed, and Raven's eyes widened. "I did something that made Charles quite upset," I explained, pushing away the fly-away hairs escaping my bun.

Raven crossed her arms and wandered over to me, "Claudia Walker making Charles Xavier mad, I never thought that I'd see the day," Raven quipped, before sticking her hand out to help me up.

"Neither did I," I stated, shaking my head.

"I wouldn't worry, Charles can't stay mad at you. He likes you too much," Raven reminded with a giggle, as I grabbed her hand and she pulled me up.

The sudden motion made me feel dizzy, I slowly walked over to the towel basket and plucked one out, "I don't know Raven, he seemed pretty upset," I doubted, dabbing the cloth against my face and closed my eyes trying to stabilize myself.

"What did you do?" she asked curiously.

Opening my eyes as my vision had stopped spinning, I removed the towel from my face, "I made these two men fight for entertainment," I explained, and Raven’s brows raised. "Erik and I wanted entertainment, we had gotten bored at the park," I continued, beginning to leave the room. "Do you know where I can Charles? I should probably go make things right," I added.

"In the library, most likely. Where else would he be?" Raven joked, and I nodded my head in agreement and laughed before exiting the gym.

I wrapped the towel around my neck and made way down the hall admiring the paintings on the wall as I headed to the library. The door to the library was cracked, slowly pushing it open revealed Charles standing in front of the window. I walked quietly into the room but he didn't turn around, he simply waited for whoever had entered to speak first. Out of the corner of Charles' eye he saw me move to stand beside him, still not saying a word.

At last, I broke the silence, "It's clear that you're upset with me," I began, searching his face for a reaction, but there wasn't one.

"How about disappointed?" he corrected, still looking out the window. I turned to look at him again and I was surprised to find his face free of anger, his face was calm. "You could have seriously injured those men Claudia. Worst, you could have killed them," Charles stated grimly, staring at me.

Backing away from where Charles stood, I sat down on top of the sofa, "Oh, come on, I wouldn't have let it get to that point," I answered, crossing my arms and returning Charles' stare.

He turned all the way around to face me, "It should have never happened in the first place!" Charles argued, slightly raising his voice. "Why on God's green earth would make those men fight?" he questioned, throwing his hands up.

"For fun, I suppose," I answered, with a slight shrug.

Charles scoffed, "That's your definition of fun? he asked incredulously.

"Fun is interpreted differently from person to person," I countered.

"No, I don't believe that's the whole story. I have never seen use your powers so irresponsibly. What is going on with you?" Charles asked again, walking towards me.

I pushed off the sofa, "You have been mother henning me for two days straight and I'm at my wits end here! I needed a release!" I snapped, spreading my arms out. "I'm not myself for one day, and for two days you have constantly been over my shoulder like I'm some fragile-" I continued pointing my finger, until another wave of dizziness me, this time stronger than before.

I felt myself falling as my vision slightly darkened, but a pair of arms caught me before I fell to the floor.

"Hey, I got you, I got you," Charles repeated softly, my head leaning against his chest. He lowered us to the ground slowly, "I'm going to pick you up, alright," he announced, before hooking his arms underneath my legs and slowly lifting me up. He walked over to the front of the sofa and placed me down onto the plush cushions. "Good thing I've been a mother hen, right?" Charles asked smiling, his hand brushing away a stray lock of hair from my face.

"I guess it paid off in the end," I conceded, smiling weakly as Charles sat on the edge of the sofa.

He placed the back of his hand against my forehead and frowned, "Claudia, you're burning up," he noted, removing his hand. "I knew you were pushing yourself too hard these past two days," he continued, placing each of his hands down on the cushions on either side of my waist. "Why didn't you tell me, love?" Charles asked quietly.

He was tense, his hands were clenched into fist by my side, I lifted my arm and soothingly rubbed his arm and felt the muscles in his arm slowly release some of their tension. His blue eyes met mine and he relaxed a little more.

"I thought I could push through it, I've done it before," I explained, giving him a small smile in an attempt to make him feel more at ease. "I really didn't want you to start smothering me anymore," I added, a short laugh erupting from me.

Charles shook his head gazing down at me with worried eyes, "Yes, and look where it's gotten you right now," he remarked, shaking his head once more. "You are so guarded at times Claudia, you've got to learn that not everyone wants to hurt you. I want to help you, I truly do. But I can't do anything unless you can accept that," Charles stated.

I was shocked by his bluntness and stared at him in shock, being quiet for several moments and looking away. When I didn't answer, Charles reached for my hand and held my hand in his.

"Do you trust me Claudia?" Charles asked softly.

It was such a simple question, yet I knew it meant a lot more to Charles...and myself. I stared up at him saw the genuine concern written across his features, and knew that what he told me was true.

"You're the first person I have trusted in years, Charles," I admitted softly.

The telepath gave me the most adorable, beautiful grin of relief, "I'm honored," Charles answered, and lifted my hand to his lips and kissed the palm of it. The simple gesture made my stomach flip. "Let's get you some rest, yeah?" he suggested, nodding his head toward the door.

Chapter Twelve: What Are These Feelings?

[batterycityghoul]

So, my grandpa passed away 4 years ago today. It was really rough. It was scary. It was a lot. He had a stroke in October of 2017 and then just never recovered.

I remember the day he passed. Before I got the call, I had this feeling that someone was wrong. I felt like I was about to have a panic attack. At the time, I was babysitting my nephew, and I was about to call my brother in law and see if he could come home from work early, because I just felt wrong. And I remember I went to the bathroom to put some cold water on my face and try to calm down, and by the time I got back to my phone, I had several missed calls from my dad and a text that just said 'call me back please.' And I knew. I knew right then and there what had happened. I remember my dad not even really having to say anything, but when he told me, it was one of the worst moments of my life.

My grandpa was such a great guy. He was one of my first best friends. My parents didn't have a lot of money when my sis and I were kids. They worked a lot, but they had two kids and sometimes couldn't provide a lot for us. Our idea of eating out some years was going to Wendy's and ordering off the dollar menu. So, my grandparents did all they could for us. My sis and I would go spend the night at my grandparent's house and they would get us pizza and get us a movie to watch and they spoiled the heck out of us as much as they could. They made sure we were always taken care of and had everything we needed.

He was the person who taught my how to drive when I was 12. He took me fishing during the summer and we spent hours out by the lake, just spending time together. We picked blueberries and went grocery shopping and watched NASCAR (even though I was bored out of my mind, but it was a way to spend time with him). We both had a sweet tooth and would spend summer nights at their kitchen table, eating dessert and talking about our days. He made the best chicken and rice and hamburger steaks and fried catfish.

He was always so supportive and I know sometimes he didn't have much to say, but we spent a lot of time together. We laughed and had secret jokes and watched movies and bonded over shows like Deadliest Catch. He was such a prankster and always had this sly, secret smile he would shoot me when he had gotten away with something, and it was our own little way of communicating. It was the best feeling in the world when I got him to laugh and I miss that so much.

He worked hard all his life and did everything to provide for his family. He loved my grandma so much and I know he loved us.

It hurt a lot when he passed away. It still does. I actually started writing fic again after his death as a way to just cope and escape for a little bit. And while it does help, I would trade everything just to have another day with him.

I miss him so much. But I cherish the good memories with him. I hope he knows how much I loved him, because it was a lot.

I don't expect anyone to read this. I just needed to get some feelings out. But if you did, then thank you for sharing these memories of my grandpa with me. He was a great guy. 💖

[randomoranges]

tonight i went on my evening walk with my mom and ran into a student and her family. she lives on the street behind mine. it was a pleasant chat but as we went our seperate ways, i made the comment about how strange it was and how can u imagine if id been wearing some shirt with a curse word or something

and it made me think. about the teacher persona and how the line btwn teacher and private life are often blurred together. what would a reaction be if it was Something Even Bigger - what if i was kissing a SO of the same gender - what if i was wearing such and such clothing - doing this - at this place - existing in a context that is other than teacher?

the incidents mentioned are real. stories that have been on the news. teachers whove posted bits of their real lives that then lost jobs, despite never doing anything wrong on the job.

the colleague bit is also true. it happened at the school i work at a few yrs ago. 

anyways.

thoughts and such

Take a Walk on the Wild Side

 It’s a perfect night out for a walk and so, after dinner, they put their shoes back on and head out, taking advantage of it being Friday night and not too brain dead. There’s a gentle breeze announcing the upcoming end of summer and the first soft tendrils of autumn and it’s nice – a good break from the oppressive heat of a few weeks ago.

 Étienne, as always, links their arms together and chatters away as they walk. Edward is happy to listen and offers insight when needed.

 They’re halfway through their walk when they hear a loud “M Édouard?!” and Étienne let’s go of Edward’s arm on instinct.

 A few steps later, it turns out that the voice belongs to one of Edward’s students and she’s out walking with her parents, the family dog and her sister.

 The girl is excited to see her teacher not at school and then nearly does a double take when she realises that M Étienne is also out walking with M Édouard.

 There’s polite chitchat that goes around – general comments from the kids, pleasantries from the parents and all the while, both Étienne and Edward put on pleasant smiles while one recurring thought runs through their head. Are they still safe?

 They hadn’t been doing anything untoward, but even if the girls hadn’t noticed anything, surely the parents must have seen that they’d been walking together with their arms linked.

 Étienne hates that he’s bothered by it, while Edward wonders if this is going to turn into a thing.

 “Do you live nearby?” The mother asks and the question is open enough that they can save face if they want to.

 But do they?

 There’s nothing criminal to what they’d been doing. An evening walk just like this family. They had lives outside of work and what they did after school shouldn’t matter to anyone. Yet, for some reason, Étienne and Edward both feel as though they’d been caught red handed committing some heinous crime and the feeling is nauseating.

 “Other side of the bridge, that ways about,” Edward motions with his hand and his student exclaims that her house is that way as well, because of course it would.

 As it turns out, they live on the street right behind them and Étienne marvels at how they’ve never run into each other before.

 The sister asks where he lives and Étienne laughs, thankful for the innocence of children. Because, obviously, two men walking together at night would not be living together.

 He’s relieved.

 He’s also a little saddened.

 Disappointed, really.

 Étienne gives as vague as an answer as possible and satisfied, the girls chatter excitedly amongst themselves, while the adults wrap up the conversation and then leave, wishing each other a lovely weekend.

 Once they resume their walk, Étienne can’t find it in him to link their arms together and Edward takes an extra step to the side. They walk, silent, lost in their own thoughts, and it’s only once they’ve crossed on the other side of the overpass that they glance in each other’s direction.

 They share a look that seems to ask if any of what had happened was real, and finally, Étienne cracks first, a desperate chuckle escaping. Edward joins soon after, a full on nervous laugh and soon, both of them are wheezing at the absurdity of the situation.

 It is both a coping mechanism and unwinding, but when they finally catch their breath again and resume their walk, it feels less loaded. Edward steps back close and Étienne lets their hands brush together, until he wraps a finger around Edward’s own.

 “Perhaps we should move. Change names. Jobs. Leave the country.” Étienne offers, only a little serious.

 “I’m honestly surprised it took this long for us to run into a student.”

 They look at each other again and fall silent, contemplating the situation.

 “Do you think the parents know? Or the girls? – Do you think this will get out?” Étienne voices the questions that had been burning both their minds and the fears that come with it. It’s one thing mentioning in the school agenda that discrimination won’t be tolerate against religion, skin colour and sexual orientation, but it’s another to put it in practice towards staff. There’s a million and one different ways to make it look like they’re being canned for something different, if the school wants to.

 “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know and I don’t know what would be worse. God – and we weren’t even doing anything bad.”

 That’s the problem with teaching. There is no such thing as a “private life.” They’ve heard the stories. One “bad” photo on social media and a career finished. One bad day that leads to dismissal. They’re lucky they have elementary students, but still.

 Edward remembers the horror fiasco that had happened a few years ago to a colleague of his. An innocent video that had been cut and changed look as though his colleague was saying hate messages. It had blown out of proportion. Parents had been frightened. The police was called. Interventions were made. The man left the school, on his own terms, deciding it would be best for him and the school. Even though he was innocent. Even though his words had been taken out of context. Even though he’d done nothing wrong.

 Would this happen to them?

 It’s a sobering thought.

 Yet, Edward isn’t ashamed of who he is. Neither is Étienne. They are proud of who they are. They believe people should be allowed to be themselves.

 Then why is it that they feel such fear?

 “I guess we won’t know until Monday,” Étienne says, trying to be reassuring, “We’ll play it by ear and hope for the best. As you said, we weren’t doing anything wrong.”

 “Yeah – you’re right...” He falls quiet for another moment and then lets out a frustrated puff of air, followed by a short laugh, “At least we weren’t in a strip club,” He says, trying to be light.

 “What?”

 “When I was doing my internship. One of the teacher’s at the school, he told us of this anecdote. He’d gone to a friend’s stag party at a strip club. And one of the stripers was a student of his – I forget if she was a current or former student. He was mortified, but she recognised him and went right over, calling out to him as if there was nothing wrong. I mean – there’s nothing wrong with working in a club, but the relationship dynamic makes it a little awkward. Or – I would feel awkward. I wish I had her level of confidence though – not be afraid that a student seeing us together might cause a minor scandal and our jobs,” He adds as an afterthought.

 Étienne reaches for his hand again, gives it a squeeze and then links their arms together. Edward sags against him and is happy when they turn on their street, close to home, where it’s safe.

 “We’ll be fine – whatever happens, we’ll be fine.”

 Edward wants to believe him and hopes Étienne will be right.

 --

 It’s a different evening, days and weeks and months and maybe even years later. Different yet similar. Another late September evening with a gentle breeze and the promise of autumn to come. It’s night time by the time they go out for their evening walk and it’s a little chilly – a perfect excuse for Étienne to link their arm with Edward, as they’re often known to do.

 They chatter away, about one thing and the next, and Edward is happy to listen and provide feedback when needed.

 They’re halfway through the walk, when they hear a shout of “M Édouard?!” and approach the voice, Étienne never letting go of Edward’s arm.

 It’s a student from Edward’s class, who is surprised to find his teacher out for a walk and not in a school setting. He’s with his own family; parents, an older sibling and the family dog. The kid does a near double take when he notices Étienne and can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that he’s run into two of his teachers outside of school, even if he thinks it’s cool.

 The adults exchange polite conversation and eventually the older sibling asks if they live close by. This time, Edward does not shy away from his answer and says that yes, they both have their place not far from here, on the other side of the overpass.

 Both student and sibling seem amazed, remarking on how they live literally a block away from there. Étienne laughs, commenting on the smallness of the world, and telling them to come by their street at Halloween, to get candy – at the house with the haunted garage.

 The kids’ faces light up, eager and excited, and the older sibling knows where the house is – having gone a few years back and how cool it had been. Amused, the adults wrap up their conversation, and after wishing each other a pleasant weekend, both groups head their own way.

 FIN

[acnelli]

Illuminating

I had a lot of fun writing this story for the 2020 HPRomione Discord Secret Santa Exchange. Thank you @remedial-potions for organising this for us. And shout out to @nagemeikenu who beta-read my story at such short notice.

[...] Ron Weasley was, without a doubt, the brightest and strongest light for her and she knew that it was everything she needed. [...]

Also avialable on FFN and AO3.

Please also check out all the other great stories that are and will be added to the AO3 collection.

 “But it’s tradition, Hermione!”

“So?”

“So, it means bad luck if we do.”

“Honestly, you can’t believe that, Ron. This is superstition at its best.”

“Better safe than sorry if you ask me.”

“Isn’t it also against tradition to have sex before being married? I don’t remember you putting up a fight against this particular case of tradition-breaking.”

Hermione crossed her arms in front her and looked expectantly at Ron, absolutely unable to keep the smugness out of her face.

She should’ve known better though because Ron never failed to come up with something in response. “Mum will insist for you to sleep in Ginny’s room tonight. I’m sure,” Ron continued, completely ignoring Hermione’s irrefutable offering of logic, “You may have noticed next to nothing slips by her and this certainly isn’t something she’ll choose to ignore.”

Ron met Hermione with an equally smug grin, absolutely positive bringing Molly Weasley into this would settle the argument.

It didn’t.

“What I indeed noticed is the inability of your family to keep their noses out of our life,” Hermione complained, blowing an annoying strand of hair out of her face, “I love your mother, you know it, but I don’t see how it’s any of her business whether or not the two of us share a bed tonight.”

“She’ll make it her business and you know it.”

“Why does she care?”

“Because it’s bad luck!”

Hermione groaned and ran her hand through her hair in frustration, making it even wilder in the process. Despite them bickering over the silliest things, she certainly didn’t expect this particular topic becoming something they would disagree on. Because as of yet, they never disagreed on anything considering their…bedroom activities.

It was the day before Ron and Hermione’s wedding, and despite their recent argument, Hermione felt excited, looking forward to tie the knot with the tall, lanky redhead in front of her. It was the next milestone in their relationship, and sure enough, the most important one as of yet.

Hermione was well aware that nothing would really change after tomorrow; they’d still continue to live in their quarter of Grimmauld Place since Harry insisted for them to not rent a “ridiculously expensive” apartment in London when they could live in the former Order’s Head Quarter for free. Of course, he was right about that, but both Ron and Hermione agreed that at some point in their life they have to find a place of their own.

Yes, nothing changed. But at the same time, everything did. Marrying Ron didn’t make what they had more important or more meaningful. But there was always something strange about calling Ron her boyfriend. From the earliest moments of their relationship, the word ‘boyfriend’ just didn’t feel right because all things considered, especially the years of mutual pining and constant danger, all the things they went through together, made the word just not strong enough when Hermione thought about it.

She couldn’t help the smile appearing on her face when she thought about the night Ron Weasley stopped being her boyfriend and started to become her fiancé.

It had been almost six months ago when they walked home from Dean’s Christmas Party. The night couldn’t have been more perfect for Christmas Eve with the light layer of snow covering everything, illuminated by the bright light of the full moon. Almost every street light and every window they passed on their way back to Grimmauld Place were decorated with Christmas lights and from somewhere far away they heard a man singing, very loudly and very off-key.

“Reckon that’s one of Dean’s party guests?” Ron laughed as they walked hand in hand through a little park.

Hermione chuckled, thinking about all the booze available at Dean’s. “The only one still sober enough to stand, let alone sing, was Harry. And we know that’s not his singing voice.”

“That’s true. Harry sings much worse than this guy.”

“Definitely,” Hermione said, chuckling at the memory of Harry singing a lullaby to his Godson, “I think he scarred Teddy for life.”

“Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star will forever be a trigger for that poor child.”

Hermione barked out a laugh and took a quick look at her watch.

“Oh, it’s already past midnight, Ron,” she said and looked up at him, “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, love.”

Ron stopped walking and pulled Hermione against him, kissing her cold nose. “You know,” he said as he clapped his hand against his jean pocket, “I actually have that present of yours right here with me.”

“And…that present is inside your pants and happy to see me or…?”

Ron barked out that deep laugh she loved so much and she loved it even more when she was the one responsible for it. He leaned down to softly kiss her, leaving Hermione with the taste of eggnog and cinnamon on her lips.

Stepping back a little, Ron pulled out a book of his pocket, clearly too big to fit in there. Since Ron hated carrying around bags the undetectable extension charm became one of Ron’s favourite uses of magic. The book had a thick leather cover and in Ron’s messy handwriting the words ‘Our Adventures’ were dancing up and down the front.

Hermione took the diary-sized book from Ron and opened it to the first page.

‘The Beginning’ it said at the top and it showed a photograph of them and Harry in first year. She couldn’t help but smile back at the three children, especially her past self with wild bushy hair and flushed cheeks and a huge toothy grin. Little Hermione was so happy to finally have friends that it made her forget all about her large front teeth she usually used to avoid showing in pictures.

As she turned the pages, Hermione travelled back in time as she looked at all the moving pictures that showed their shared adventures. From their school years over their joint trips all around the world to birthdays, weddings and family gatherings, it was all there. Even the picture her Dad had made of them when Ron and Hermione brought them back from Australia was in there, positively unmoving, but showing a very tanned Hermione and a Ron with the worst sunburn of his life.

And when she turned the last page there wasn’t another picture of them. The words written there sent a jolt right through her heart, making it beat faster. And when she looked up, the picture in front of her matched the question she just read.

Ron knelt in front her with a small, golden ring in hand and Hermione found the same emotions in his eyes that threatened to fill her heart to bursting and that only he could give her; happiness, hope and…love. 

Back then, he asked her to start their next big adventure. When he proposed to her, something clicked into place. She already had the thing she would miss the most, but to tie the knot felt like the right step to make.

When the witch thought back at their years together as friends and a couple, she couldn’t help but marvel over how well everything worked out in the end. Because Merlin knows, they didn’t have an easy start by any means. Their romance started right when incredibly hard and dark months lay ahead of them; months and years of mourning, rebuilding, coping and one of the things she was incredibly thankful for, therapy. They all needed it, although all of them used to consider it an admission of vulnerability before they finally saw how healing it was, amongst other things.

And despite the grave times and hardships, Hermione always had her very own source of light. Among the wonderful people in her life providing her with the warmth she needed to beat the darkness, one of them stood out the most. Ron Weasley was, without a doubt, the brightest and strongest light for her and she knew that it was everything she needed.

Ron currently stood in front of his wardrobe, fishing out one of his old but still brightly orange Cannon shirts. Before he could turn around again, Hermione walked up and hugged him from behind. She pressed herself against his back, her left cheek resting right between his shoulder blades.

“Okay!” She murmured as her fingertips softly grazed up and down Ron’s sides.

“Okay what?”

“I’ll sleep at my parents’ house tonight.”

Ron turned around to her, clearly surprised about the sudden change of opinion.

Before he could say anything else, she softly kissed him. Returning and deepening the kiss, Ron pulled her closer as a soft moan escaped her. Kissing Ron Weasley most definitely will never get old.

“Are you sure?” He asked, and Hermione couldn’t help but chuckle at the not-so-subtle disappointment in his voice.

“Did you expect me to persuade you with my mediocre seduction skills? Because I think I looked right through you just now.”

With a smug and slightly embarrassed look that only Ron Weasley could manage, he gave her one of his trade-mark lopsided smirks.

“It was less expecting than hoping for it,” he answered, softly tugging some locks behind her ear before leaning down to kiss her ear lobe, “And mediocre my arse you little vixen.” “Well, I definitely considered it to be my next move, but then I thought it’s probably kind of romantic to not see each other until Dad walks me down the aisle.”

“I’ll certainly not stand in the way of this rare display of romance by Hermione Granger.” Ron winked at her as he slowly backed her into the direction of his old bed. “But if you don’t mind, I’d love to get you a parting gift before your departure.” 

*******

As Hermione lay in her bed, dressed in her most comfortable pyjamas, she finally admitted to herself why she had been against separate sleeping arrangements tonight in the first place. It was irrational and probably ridiculous considering the many days they spent apart when Hermione went to Hogwarts and Ron to Auror training, but she couldn’t quite shake off the feeling of uneasiness and unrest that settled inside her stomach.

She had gotten so used to falling asleep beside him, with his soft snoring and the warmth always radiating off him, no matter how cold of a day it was. Several night missions and other Auror assignments made Hermione miss the redhead at night, but especially today, with the excitement about tomorrow keeping her wide awake, she found it next to impossible to fall asleep without his large, freckled hand resting on her hip.

As Hermione looked out of the window beside her old bed, preparing herself to count herself to sleep with the stars she could make out from here, a small ball of light reflected in the glass and illuminated the room.

And she really didn’t need to turn around to see who just apparated inside her bedroom. That’s why she just closed her eyes, not being able to stop her face to split into a wide smile when Ron climbed into bed beside her and draping an arm around her middle, pulling her close.

For some silly reason, Ron showing up tonight made her feel so incredibly happy that she couldn’t stop the tears welling up in her eyes. Enjoying his warmth and leanness and the hot breath at the back of her neck, she marvelled at the simple fact that Ron Weasley illuminated her life in every way possible.

“I love you.”

“I love you.” 

[samdeancass]

Troubled

Requested by: _stellastyless on Wattpad

Pairing: Derek x Stella (OC character)

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Characters: Derek, Stella, Scott, Stiles

Before her parents died in a plane crash, Stella was a very traditional girl. She always obeyed the rules, never stepped out of line and always had the best grades. All of that changed, however, when the fatal incident happened. Her life came crashing down around her. She had no siblings, nobody to turn to apart from Stiles. Stiles and Stella became super close and he became the only one she would confide in, especially since she was a closed book around everybody else. Her parents deaths changed her in a way that nobody could have predicted. Stella went from the perfect girl with a perfect life to an independent woman, stubborn and sarcastic just like her younger cousin. Stella has had a number of fake friends and flings that ended badly which crumpled her trust with anybody apart from Stiles.

There was one thing that she didn't trust Stiles to do though: take himself and Scott home without being harmed. It seemed that Stella wasn't the only one with these doubts as Sheriff Stilinski also didn't trust Stiles enough to reach home alone which is how she found herself parked outside of Beacon Hills High School. Stella was sitting on the hood of her car, tapping her fingers impatiently on the hood when she noticed a guy standing a few feet away staring at her. She hopped off the hood and began to walk further towards the schools entrance. Looking back behind her, Stella noticed that the guy had begun to follow her. Anger was building up inside of her, but she really didn't want to kick this guys as in the middle of a high school parking lot, so it was lucky that she spotted another guy heading towards her, Derek Hale. Stella giggled internally as she remembered a conversation she and Stiles had had not so long ago involving Derek.

"There is absolutely no need for how angry he is, Stella. He just sulks in the corner of a room, not saying a word. I can always feel his eyes on me, li,e he wants to eat me or something." Stella chuckled at Stiles' description of Derek. "Are you scared of him, Stiles?" His head shot up as his eyes widened. "No, definitely not." Stella shook her head and went back to reading her book.

Stella headed towards Derek and grabs his arm, interlocking their fingers together. "Play along". Stella whispered in his ear, only to leave Derek even more confused. This feeling soon went away when he spotted the guy that had been following you. Derek's eyes turned into slits as he slid his arm around Stella's waist, pulling her close to him. The guys eyes widened at what was playing out in front of him and soon walked away. Derek's arm fell from Stella's back as she stepped away from him.

"Thanks for that. Really didn't want to make a scene in front of a high school." She gave Derek a sheepish smile as they both walked towards her car. "Anytime, Stella. I always enjoy rescuing a damsel in distress." He began to laugh as Stella dug him in the ribs. "That will only happen once, I can promise you!" Stella could feel a familiar feeling brewing in the pit of her stomach as she carried on the conversation with Derek. Stella and Derek didn't really know each other so it was hard to gauge how much she could trust him, but she really couldn't resist the flirtiness of her old self. "Wanna go out for some drinks later?" Derek stared at Stella a little taken aback. He knew that she didn't really talk to people that wasn't in her inner circle. He thought for a second before accepting the offer. Stella smiled at him before she spotted Scott and Stiles heading down the path in front of them. "I'll meet you at the bar at 7." Stella waved at the two teens before walking towards them, leaving Derek slightly confused but amused at the situation he found himself in.

Later that night at the bar after dropping off Scott and Stiles, Stella and Derek were sat at the bar having a light conversation. "So I know about all of the werewolves and supernatural creatures in Beacon Hills, but I just wanna know how in the hell you cope with it all? I'm not around here all the time, but when I am it always seems like you, Scott and Stiles are always out trying to fix the town." Stella took a sip of her drink as Derek laughed slightly. "To be honest, it's quite hard trying to keep this town safe. The amount of things that these people have witnessed over the years is horrific. I'm actually surprised there are people still living here." Stella laughed in response as she downed the rest of her drink. "Another?" Derek smiled and nodded as Stella hailed down the bartender. "So, Stella, I've sort of noticed that you don't really talk to people who you aren't close to, so I'm just wondering why you decided to invite me out?"

The question took Stella by surprise as she downed the drink that she had just ordered. "Well, I think it has something to do with the fact that you helped me, practically a stranger, scare off a creepy dude who was following her." She took a deep breath as Derek smiled in response. "The thing is Derek, I'm sort of broken. I never used to be like this, I was a totally different person before...." Her voice stuck in her throat as she tried to finish the sentence. Derek placed a hand on hers and nodded. "I understand. Something happened to my family when I was younger that changed me in ways that I didn't even know, so trust me I know exactly how you're feeling." Stella smiled gratefully and ordered two more drinks.

A lot more drinks later, Stella and Derek found themselves hooking up together. For Stella, it was partly accidental but partly intentional as well. She really felt that Derek and her had a connection with each other and she wanted to feel closer to him. Stella awoke and looked around her, finding Derek asleep next to her. She smiles softly at him before quietly getting out of bed and getting dressed. She looks back at Derek one more time before creeping out of Derek's loft.

When Stella is in Beacon Hills, she stays af Stiles' house. She was hoping that nobody would be there when she arrived in order to escape staring eyes and awkward questions. That hope quickly faded when she spotted Scott's motorbike parked outside of the house. Stella sighed inwardly and readied herself for the interrogation that was sure to come before putting her key in the lock.

When she opened the door, footsteps sounded from the upstairs of the house. She rolled her eyes as the footsteps came closer and closer to her. "Where have you been?" She turned around to see Scott and Stiles leaning against the wall, arms folded across their chests. "You don't need to know." As Stella began to move around the kitchen and dodging Stiles' questions, she could hear Scott sniffing slightly and she knew he could sense a change in her scent. She swung around and brought a finger to her lips when Stiles wasn't watching, silently asking him to hush. He nodded softly before Stella headed upstairs.

A few days later the pack had gotten together to discuss another supernatural threat. Frustration was evident between Stella and Derek but nobody wanted to admit it. Both Stella and Derek had feelings for the other but they didn't know if they were ready to admit it to themselves, especially Stella. She was so afraid of being hurt and putting all of her trust in somebody she barely knows, but somehow she knew that Derek was worth it. Throughout the meeting, Derek barely looked at Stella and the frustration that she felt began to build inside her, along with a little sadness. Stella thought that Derek had feelings for her but with the way he was acting now, she wasn't so sure. At the end of the meeting, the frustration had turned into bitterness as her mind dwelled on hers and Derek's relationship. Before he left, letting the bitterness get the better of her, she pulled Derek aside to confront him about the situation.

"Alright Derek, I need to know. Where do we stand with each other? I thought you hooked up with me because you had feelings for me, but obviously you didnt. I cared all along for you, Derek." You breathing became rapid and angry as he gave you no verbal response and shook his head. Stella's anger got the better of her and she slapped Derek across the face before walking away.

The rest of the packs meetings resulted in Stella defending everybody's reasons and plans apart from Derek's. Stella was still very bitter about what happened between them both and felt that Derek didn't acknowledge or appreciate the hard work the rest of the pack puts into putting the plans together.

At one of the meetings, Isaac sensed a change in Stella's scent and decided to talk to her. "Hey, Stella. You Ok? I can sense something's wrong." She sighed a little and reassured him that she was OK. He could still sense her discomfort and engaged her in a mood lifter conversation which Stella became fully indulged in. Throughout the conversation, Isaac could sense Stella's discomfort leaving her body which brought a smile to his face. Stella walked away and sat down, taking Isaac with her.

"The thing is, Isaac. I sort of have feelings for Derek but he doesn't feel the same way." Stiles overhears the conversation and walks over to Stella. "Seriously Stel, Derek? I get what you're saying, I really do, but Derek?" Isaac looked up at him and shook his head before kicking his shin. "Go away, Stiles." Stiles groaned in pain as he hobbled away towards Scott, who he undoubtedly will tell. "Dont listen to Stiles, he's a moron." Stella laughed in response and begins to talk to Isaac some more.

After that, at another meeting, Stella found herself having to contradict Derek. Isaac could sense the change of her emotions and immediately pulled her close and hugged her, which oddly calmed her down. Every time this happened, Stella could feel herself mildly enjoying the attention. Throughout the meeting, Derek was unconsciously waiting for Stella to snap at him like she has been. He becomes a little confused when Stella isn't contradicting him anymore and actually agrees with him. Derek looks over in your direction and sees Issac and Stella cuddling together.

Anger rose through Derek's body at the scene in front of him. "Isaac, would you please concentrate and leave Stella alone!" Derek gritted his teeth together to keep himself calm before Stella jumped to Isaac's defense. "Hey, lay off. We're talking about the plan." You frowned at Derek before turning back to Isaac, throwing her arms around him. At this point, Derek was seething with anger. He absolutely hated the way Stella seemed so comfortable with Isaac and how quick she jumped to his defense but he chose to act like it didn't bother him.

A few days after this, Stella's phone lights up with a text from Isaac asking her to hurry over to the loft for a meeting. She hopped into her care and drove to the loft. Stella opened the doors and walked inside, only to find herself with Derek. Stella groaned inwardly at how awkward this was going to be.

"Erm, how've you been?" Derek looked over in Stella's direction and cast a small smile. "Absolutely fine, and yourself?" Ste,,a looked over at Derek and kept a straight face showing no emotion. "Fine. What are you doing here?" "Isaac told me to meet him here for a pack meeting or something." Silence filled the air for a few moments before Derek walked towards Stella and gave her a questioning look. "So, I've noticed you and Isaac have been getting pretty close lately and I'm just wondering how it's going."

Stella stepped back slightly in confusion and raised her eyebrows. "What on earth are you talking about, Derek? Me and Isaac aren't a thing, we're just good friends." Derek let out an angry huff. "C'mon, Stella. Dont give me that shit." Stella threw her hands up in the air. "What are you going on about?"

"With all the cuddling and giggling and whispering, it looks like you two are a thing. You seem so comfortable with him, I just assumed that you were both together." Stella gave him a deadpan look. "We're just good friends Derek, nothing more. We just get along really well and we understand the things that we have both been through. That's it, purely platonic. I'm way older than Isaac anyway, so having a relationship with him really doesn't seem practical in any way."

"Why are you both always co,fy with each other then, always cuddling each other?" Derek's frustration was starting to show at how naive Stella was being. He placed around the room as Stella shrugged in response. "I'm like that with everyone." Derek stops and over to Stella, stopping right in front of her. "You're not like that with me, though." "I would be if you hadn't of been such a jerk and played me." Derek scoffed. "What is your issue with me?"

"I like you, OK. I have for a while now. All of the little things that you do, like taking on the big bad by yourself, putting your life before anybody elses. It's things like that that allowed my feelings to develop, Derek. I haven't felt this way about anybody in a really long time and I get that you dont feel the same way, but you really shouldn't be interfering in my personal life."

Derek's head hung low as she finished her sentence. "I do admire you, Stella. So much. It's just, my past still haunts me to this day. I've lost so many people and I don't want to lose you to." Stella huffed in annoyance as tears began to prick at the corners of her eyes. "Please stop pretending, Derek. Its hurting me more than you know." She turns away from Derek but stops in her tracks when he grips her wrist.

"I love you, Stella. So much, please don't leave." Stella looked up into Derek's eyes to try and find any sort of uneasiness but all she found was genuine love. Stella tries to push Derek off her but her fights back and places his lips on hers, engaging her in a passionate kiss. As time goes on, the kiss progresses into something more.

Stella and Derek pull apart when they notice that Isaac is skipping around them, throwing rose petals along with Erica. In the background, a soft romantic song played. Stella and Derek looked up to find Boyd and Peter looking smug as hell. "What in the hell is happening here?" Derek looked around the room at each person before the door opened, revealing Scott and Stiles.

"GET A ROOM AND HOOK UP ALREADY!" Isaac shouted from where he was standing as Scott and Peter looked at Derek and Stella. "That was step one, guys. Just wait until step 2." They both wiggled their eyebrows at the couple before Stiles piped up.

"Derek Hale, if you hurt her, so help me. I will grab some wolfsbane, wrap it in mistletoe and mountain ash and shove it up your furry ass."