#we need to get over this stupid virus before we can do house parties again

[littlepanduh-writes-365]

Day 43

Title: “Nothing”

Description: A study session turns out to be something more.

Features: Michaeng (Twice)

Word Count: 1,159

Tags: Fluff | College AU

It started off as a study session. Chaeyoung and Mina are taking a music history class. They usually sit next to each other, except recently when Mina had been oversleeping the class. She asked to just borrow her notes, but Chaeyoung said she needed to explain some background things considering how many classes Mina missed. Now, they were sitting together in Mina’s apartment. Mina copied notes while Chaeyoung gave an abridged synopsis of Mozart’s Don Giovanni. 

Mina thought the class was boring and thought only the reading was necessary (which is why she thought it was okay to skip lecture), but she really appreciated Chaeyoung’s eccentric storytelling.

“You should consider trying out for theatre. Your delivery is very intriguing.” She smiles and then looks back down to her notebook to copy the notes.

Chaeyoung was taken slightly aback. Was it the compliment or Mina’s smile?

“Thanks,” she simply says. She debates whether she should continue telling the story about Don Juan and Leprello comparing their body counts. Mina seems to still be writing things down and she didn’t want to awkwardly watch her, so she decided to open up a little bit. “I used to do ballet. I didn’t stay long enough to be good at it, but I liked the theatrical aspect to it.”

Mina looks up for a quick second to show her attentiveness. “That’s cool. I used to do ballet for like 10 years before I moved here.” She looks back down to write down more notes. Chaeyoung doesn’t know this, but Mina writes “ballet” in the margin next to “Don Juan was about to cancel Leprello until the Lep. exposed him with receipts.” 

It seemed that Mina was still catching up on taking notes, so Chaeyoung carried the conversation. “Ten years? How do you not get sick of it?”

This time, Mina didn’t look up. She chuckled as she continued writing down things. “When you like something that much, it just sticks with you.”

Chaeyoung crosses her arms and slouches into the chair. “I wonder what that feels like. I used to take art classes and I joined a basketball team, but there was always something that made me dislike it enough to quit.”

Mina was finally done catching up; her pencil was sitting on her notebook, instead of her hand. Chaeyoung should’ve continued Don Juans’ story, but was more interested in getting to know about the girl in front of her. Why did she like ballet so much? Does she still dance? Why is she studying in Korea? Why is she taking this class?

What was supposed to be a one-hour, study session evolved into a 3.5-hour long study date. Chaeyoung managed to catch Mina up from the 3 lectures she missed, but she also learned about Mina’s pet dog and her favorite ride at amusement parks and what she does in her spare time. They made plans to eat Thai food some time while Chaeyoung tells her story about being a k-pop trainee before giving that up and going back to school. 

In the beginning, conversation was just a time-killer, something to fill in the gaps. Now, there weren’t enough gaps. Even though Chaeyoung made Mozart and Don Giovanni’s life sound interesting, Mina wanted to know more about Chaeyoung herself. 

Chaeyoung didn’t expect this. If she were being completely honest, the reason why Chaeyoung agreed to meet with Mina was because her roommate kicked her out for whatever reason. At this point, her roommate was probably done with whatever (or whoever) she was doing. Chaeyoung could probably go back home now. She could be writing that paper that’s due tomorrow night. She could be studying for another class. 

That didn’t stop Chaeyoung when Mina asked if she wanted to play some Mario Kart, one of Mina’s pastimes. Chaeyoung doesn’t really play video games, but there was a sparkle in Mina’s eyes that convinced her to pick up the Switch controller and just go with it. 

Mina was surprisingly very competitive. She was very verbal, shocking Chaeyoung with expletives in Japanese and English. Chaeyoung doesn’t know if it was beginner’s luck or if Mina is going easy on her, but they were neck and neck the entire time. 

This is definitely spontaneous and unconventional. Chaeyoung could tell she was falling. She wants to hear Mina’s excited screams when she wins first place. She wants to hear Mina’s laugh as she gets Chaeyoung with a red shell, bringing her back to first place. She wants to keep seeing that smile on her face.

Chaeyoung was definitely greedy with time. The one-hour study session had now turned into a 5-hour long date. She should really go home. She has things to do. Mina probably has things to do, too.  

“Hey,” Chaeyoung turns to the older woman. They lock eyes and as corny as it sounds, it really does feel like the world around them stopped. “This was really fun.” In retrospect, they lost a rather generous amount of time and both of them were definitely going to make up for it with a lack of sleep. 

It's a nice feeling, how they don’t regret it. 

Mina tries to pretend something in her stomach isn’t bubbling up. She can’t hide the blush on her cheek, though. She smiles and let’s out an accidental giggle. “Yeah, it was.”

Chaeyoung doesn’t understand this feeling of how their bodies seem magnetized to each other, but she knows she really shouldn’t stay any longer. Another round of Mario Kart would result in more screaming and Mina’s neighbors are probably already very upset considering it’s past midnight. 

She doesn’t want to leave, but she knows she has to. It’s okay. There’s always a next time. 

Next time. 

The idea makes her smile. 

Not being able to read her mind yet, Mina takes attention to the spontaneous grin. It makes her heart flutter. Was it because the mystery behind it excited her or because she realizes she likes the younger woman’s smile?

The girl in front of her doesn’t say anything, so she asks, “What?”

Mina catches Chaeyoung’s eyes drop down and her breath hitches. The tension was getting to her.

“What are you doing tomorrow,” Chaeyoung asks?

The older one tries to think of her schedule. It was a Friday. She can’t really remember if she was going to attend Momo’s dance class or grab lunch with Sana. 

She can’t really remember. Maybe it doesn’t matter. 

“Nothing,” she simply replies. (She doesn’t notice this, but she says this in a rather sing-songy tone.)

Chaeyoung chuckles, wondering if Mina forgot they had their music history class and planned on skipping again. Chaeyoung doesn’t mind though. Maybe they’d have another one of these “study sessions” again. Mina feels silly, but she can’t feel embarrassed when Chaeyoung looks at her like that: scrunched eyes, crooked smile, and twinkling eyes. 

“Well,” Chaeyoung looks down and grabs her hand. “Can I do ‘nothing’ with you tomorrow?”

--

Socials: Twitter | Curious Cat

[angesaurus]

I still have to pay over $1440 for daycare next month even though we have no idea when she’ll get to go back. I had also prepaid for lunches so that’s another $57. (And keep your comments to yourself about what we can do because there are some nosy af anons out there - we signed a contract last year when they reopened and in order to keep her spot, we have to pay the full price even if we are out unless the school itself has to close for longer then 2 weeks). It’s still a business and she still has to pay her employees. But I can still be mad about it. And lunch is a wash I guess since it was ordered weeks ago.

If Gavin is negative, he has to get tested AGAIN and stay out longer. Oh and we had to administer the tests ourselves. I’m a little annoyed we got zero prior warning. The woman said nothing on the phone. The website said a clinician would be doing it. So who even knows if we did them right. Watch all 3 tests be inconclusive because I don’t have experience sticking things up noses!!! The nurse at school said ideally you want him to be positive because it’s a less quarantine time and he wouldn’t need to get tested again (as long as no symptoms). In what FUCKED up world are we living in. I appreciate the steps the district is taking but Jesus Christ. Also the nurse and attendance clerk seemed so grateful which just tells me no other parents are being as cautious or providing info when someone in their household is positive. The nurse said she wasn’t even sure how to choose the exposure date for him because of how close of a contact it is. You’re telling me no other student has reported a sibling positive case?!?! If he’s positive, it’s going to be a shitshow.

I’m mad. We do what we are supposed to. Our poor kids have had barely any interaction with anyone besides their grandparents so we can keep them in school/daycare. Gavin does soccer which is masked and aside from playing, the kids are expected to distance and its outside. They can’t even high five after games. Dan and I hardly go anywhere. I can count the times we’ve socialized on two hands (combined!!!!) since March 2020. We don’t go to the mall. I went to ONE baby shower this year (which isn’t even the reason this is happening!) and masked up the WHOLE time even though NO ONE else did!!! We still haven’t gone to any type of restaurant. I haven’t even fucking left the house (aside from the testing place and walk to the bus stop) since LAST Sunday.

Meanwhile - everyone I know is having parties and going to brunch and having playdates and traveling and going to sporting events. Vacation (like international travel to all inclusive resorts - I don’t give a fuck if you’re going to an airb&b or a cabin or camping. These people are literally going to islands! Must be nice!!). We have our Disney vacation that’s been planned for almost 2 fucking years, that’s been pushed back TWICE and I’m still debating if we should lose the money for it (close to $10K for 6 people). Dan and I cancelled two other trips. Our last date night (that didn’t involve eating at the house) was target. We work from home. Dan is not even going back to in person. He only has to go for the testing days in June!

And I feel guilty for all of the above because I know none of it matters because we’re all healthy still and have no symptoms and so many people have died or now have such low qualify of life because of this shitty virus. And I should be so grateful that this is the first time any of us have had to quarantine or test or really really deal with this. But we live a state away from family already and now the lack of help when I need it is even more apparent. I emailed HR to see about options for leave before I blow through some PTO. Dan of course has conferences this week.

Yesterday was awful. And I can’t get the shaky anxious feeling to go away and it won’t go away until we get our results back. I feel like I can’t even vent to my friends about it. Dan thinks now her test is wrong because no one is sick and only one other kid in her class is positive. I just don’t even know what to think. I’m so tired of this stupid virus that took over my life.

[genesisrose74]

A/n: This idea just popped into my head this morning and I needed to write it out, guess who finished in one day instead of focusing on summer school aha ha...so here’s the next edition of Class 1-A quarantine hc’s! I think I’ll include a bit of background for all of these, just for future reference if anyone likes them lmao. Today we have everyone’s favorite nitroglycerin king, Bakugo Katsuki! Hope y’all enjoy cause I’m honestly so soft for this one okay BYE-

Surprisingly, you’re initially part of the Dekusquad, but you’ve always been close with Kirishima and Mina and feel comfortable hanging out with their group as well so you start gravitating to the Bakusquad 

At first, Bakugo is really standoffish because, “You’re seriously friends with that damn nerd Deku” - wow everyone be hating on our cinnamon roll smh

But then he sees how much the rest of Bakusquad likes you and he starts warming up

It starts with small little things like not hogging all the space on the couches in the dorms and having you sit beside him

Then he notices that you’re very forgetful of your jacket and he ends up keeping a spare in his bag just in case the weather gets really bad

“I mistakenly grabbed two this morning, so lighten my load and carry the jacket—I don’t give a shit if you put it on, just hold it will you!” 

He’s acts all aggressive whenever he tries to be subtle and someone calls him out on it pffft- 

“What the hell are you talking about? You trying to get punched in the face?”

And his feelings are emphasized when the whole class is allowed to use the pool one afternoon and you’re pulling up with Mina and Momo

You’ve got a cute swimsuit and a sun hat on, and King Explosion Murder starts sweating a dangerous amount of nitroglycerin 

Bakugo Katsuki has a thing for soft girls who can pull a one-eighty and kick ass no I do not take criticism

The class wants to play chicken and everyone is choosing partners, but in the corner of his eye Bakugo sees you getting cornered by Mineta 

You’re usually able to handle the horny tornado but you’re feeling a bit too exposed in a bathing suit and start losing your cool

When I tell you the whole Bakusquad BOLTS to come rescue you-

Mineta is literally launched out of the pool by Sero like a rocket ship in orbit and the rest of the group is in this protective barrier formation around you (yes the squad has protocols for this kind of thing don’t even deny it)

Bakugo is beside you in a second with his hands secured on your waist because no one is coming near you like that when he’s around

“Why don’t you be my partner, yeah?”

And that's the story of how y’all destroyed everyone at chicken with absolutely no mercy and Bakugo finds your competitiveness that entire day attractive as hell

Walking back to the dorms afterwards, he pulls you away from the group and the look he gives you is  s e a r i n g

“For the love of God, go out with me” and he does not have to tell you twice

Literally the entire class is SHOOK because you’re actually pretty mellow and Mr. My Only Vocabulary Word Is Die is...ya know...✨volatile✨

But let’s be honest he’s actually a softie if you’re close enough to him (sorry Deku you’re the exception but we still luv u) and everyone ends up adoring y’all being together

When quarantine rolls around and you both have to live back at your respective houses, everything is decently calm for about two days and then you both start getting bored as hell

Honestly longer than you expected 

Bakugo hates social distancing with a passion but he agrees to abide by the rules and ends up asking you to Facetime at least twice a day

His bedroom is actually very tidy ‘cause Bakugo hates clutter, especially when he’s doing schoolwork

I wholeheartedly believe that Bakugo is a beast in the kitchen and y’all can fight me about it because his knife skills are canon and you best believe he learned it to be more independent 

He’s been experimenting with new cooking recipes and is a master at making something out of practically nothing in his fridge, which is really handy when a trip to the grocery store is long overdue

He sends you pictures of his dishes and your responses are all praise and none of it’s exaggerated either; this boy can COOK 

Netflix Parties with the Bakusquad — the chat gets loaded with Denki and Kiri spamming and Bakugo yelling at them in all caps to shut up

Your lock screen is a picture of the group on Facetime and you all have filters on (somehow you got Bakugo to use one don’t ask how); literal friendship goals

And then it’s been about a whole month since quarantine started and Bakugo wants to come visit you, but his mom shuts that down quicker than Barry Allen in the Speed Force

He’s pissed because he and his family feel perfectly healthy but his mother will not let him leave under any circumstances

So when his parents go to visit some relatives who were more susceptible to the virus and needed help with a couple basic tasks you decide to sneak out to see him (in good health of course)

Imagine his surprise when his typically rule-following girlfriend calls and is already standing in his backyard, bags of groceries in your possession

***

Bakugo shot you an incredulous look as you sat at the kitchen table. “You know I could have just opened the front door for you.”

“Yeah, but going through the window was way more fun,” you defended. “It’s not like I’m very rebellious at any other time, so might as well live it up while I have the courage.”

The blond snorted, sifting through the numerous bags you brought along to his house. They were filled with an assortment of foods: vegetables, meat, rice, sauces and the like. 

“What’s all this for?” he inquired, pulling out a bottle of teriyaki sauce.

You couldn’t help the small smile that grew on your face as your boyfriend curiously examined the items. “It’s for you to cook with, duh.”

“And how am I supposed to explain the new abundance of food in the fridge to my parents?”

“Say that I had it sent over through Postmates or something. Even I thought of that, Katsuki.”

He rolled his eyes as he placed down the last bag of items. “I can’t believe you snuck out and brought all this stuff,” he murmured, leaning over to kiss the top of your head. “Thank you, babe.”

A faint blush rises to your cheeks, despite the fact you’ve been dating the first year student for a few months now. Girlfriend or not, verbal thanks from the King Explosion Murder was rare. “You’re welcome.”

Bakugo turned to the stove and started organizing a number of ingredients on the counter beside it, pulling out kitchenware from cabinets as he went.

“Since you’re here and all, I suppose I could make your dumb ass something,” he remarked. 

Your eyes practically sparkled with excitement at the offer; you were hoping the blond would make you one of his iconic dishes eventually. A ghost of a grin was present on Bakugo’s face at the cheer that left your mouth, his back facing you as he got started. 

You were quick to situate yourself on top of the kitchen counter, Bakugo lifting you by the waist to place you farther away from the flaming stove but still allowing you to watch as he worked. His knife skills were almost scary when chopping up the vegetables, the pace at which he was cutting them astonishing you, and the overall aroma of the space had your mouth watering before he was even close to finishing the meal.

“I feel like a judge on Master Chef,” you giggled, and the boy shook his head at the comment as he eyed a timer he had set for the pork he put on the stove. 

“I’m pretty sure my girlfriend of a judge would be a bit biased over the contestants,” he pointed out. 

You hummed thoughtfully. “I mean, if he keeps looking this attractive while making food I think my bias is justified.”

He glanced at you perched on the counter top, and took a few steps in your direction, cupping your cheek in one hand to kiss you quickly. 

“You’re distracting me,” the first year mumbled, running a thumb over your jaw. “Quit being so cute, dummy.”

You saluted playfully. “Yes, chef.”

He let out a soft laugh before moving back to silence the timer that had started beeping, alerting him that the pork on the stove was ready to go. The blond shooed you away and had you sit at the dining table as he took the skillet and turned off the stove flames.

As you waited patiently for Bakugo to finish up, you sang under your breath and set two spots at the table directly across from each other. By the time he was done, two plates of steaming food in hand, you were already sitting down and twirling a fork between your fingers. 

“What did you end up making?” You asked as he set a plate of rice and pork in front of you. 

“Tonkatsu,” he replied nonchalantly. 

It smelled like absolute heaven, and your hunger was only emphasized in the midst of the fast food you had been surviving off of during quarantine. This boy was even good at presentation, and you began to wonder if he was just talented at everything he tried.

Bakugo took the spot across from you and watched as you took the first bite. He wouldn’t admit it, but he felt a bit nervous that you wouldn’t like what he made. But that thought dissipated as quickly as it came once your fork flew into the meal for a second time, and you shot him a wide-eyed look.

“So good!” you exclaimed with a stuffed face, a few grains of rice falling from your mouth and back onto the plate.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full or you’ll choke, stupid,” he reprimanded, but your praise had an evident effect on the male as a smug smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“I expect gourmet lunches from you at least once a week when school starts again.” 

“Not a chance in hell that I’m doing extra work in the mornings.”

“I’ll buy you all the ingredients you want~” 

“...I’ll think about it.”

Next thing you knew, all the food on your plate was gone, gladly relocated to your stomach. Rounding the table, you wrapped your arms around Bakugo’s shoulders as he also finished eating. 

“Thank you for dinner, Katsuki,” you hummed contentedly, resting your chin on his head. “It was seriously masterclass, especially after all the takeout I’ve been eating.” 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome,” he waved it off. “I think a movie of my choosing is in order.”

“After we clean up, hot shot. Your mom would kill you if she realized someone was over.”

“Why wouldn’t she kill you too?”

“Please. Your mom loves me.”

The blond barked out a laugh before standing up and holding your waist, ushering you back to the kitchen. “True.”

Cleaning up was quick and easy with the both of you working together, stocking away dishes and remaining groceries. The evening sky, visible through a large window in the living room, glittered with stars as you sidled next to your boyfriend on the couch, the kitchen and dining room returned to its normal prestige.

“Katsuki?” you murmured, voice laced with a touch of contented sleepiness.

He turned his head from the television screen to face you. “Hm?” 

“I missed you, silly.” 

An arm was thrown around your shoulder and you were pulled closer to the male, who gently kissed your temple. 

“I missed you too, dummy.”

[yuzukult]

effortlessly pt. 10 || jungkook & reader

title: effortlessly (the finale) pairing: jungkook x reader words: 4.0k genre: fluff, romance, school!au, smut some chapters notes: ;u; patience is key, epilogue coming out soon! p.s. hope you guys stay for my next jungkook series! ;u;

series: part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || part nine || part ten || epilogue 

The seasons come by quickly— Autumn, Winter, Spring. Last summer had come to an end with you leaving the admissions office with a plan and an answer; a decision that was made up completely by yourself.

You’re grateful for Jungkook because he doesn’t probe you about your decision and promised to wait patiently until you’re ready.

Autumn comes around with its descending leaves from the now naked trees, filling the roads with shades of golds, reds, and browns, sparse in air, leaving every scene on your walk to school like a sepia photograph. It’s the season of football, pumpkin spice lattes, pumpkin spice flavored anything, really, and Halloween. Then Winter approaches with a scare; a blanket of snow dropping over the school yard, the fields, and every corner of the entire city. Light jackets now replaced with thicker and longer ones, you can’t help but groan at the difficulty of tying your shoes with how stiff yours are.

“Ugh, why did I buy this again?”

Jungkook laughs merrily at the sight, mostly because you just look so small and cozy in your coat, struggling to reach down to your toes. He taps his thigh for you to place your foot, a grin stretching cheek to cheek. You comply as he responds, “Because it’s December, silly. You’ll be freezing standing outside wearing your little leather jacket that you think is going to make you feel warm.”

“It’s more of a fashion statement than warmth, Jeon.” He’s tying the laces of your Doc Martens, fingers nimble and cold, and thighs shivering from the remains of the snow that gets on his pants, the wetness seeping through the fabric and onto his skin. “Well, you’re going to catch a cold wearing that thing around. That’s why you need this.” When he finishes, he drops your leg down, pulling the hood of your jacket over your head snugly. “So please don’t get sick because that means that I also have to play sick to stay home and take care of you.” Jungkook is effortlessly caring.

Jungkook hates the cold. Only because it takes away a location for him to swim— outside. But this year, he doesn’t seem to hate it as much. Maybe it’s because now, you’re his, and he can replace the time he dedicated to swim outside to spend time with you instead.

Especially when he gets to see you in the Christmas Village, mouth gaping wide with a bright smiling following after, face brightened by the colorful string of lights that surround you. “Wow,” Amazed, your eyes twinkle at the view. “Now this is something to talk about.” He hates himself for not taking you here every other year, the guys convincing him that it was too romantic for two friends to go to, but he can’t help but wonder what if he took you years before and learned how much he was in love with you earlier?

You spend the holidays at his house, meeting his grandparents and extended family while your parents decide to go on a trip to Hawaii. It’s become a tradition, really, your parents ditching the whole family bonding thing, and you spending that time with Jungkook’s family instead.

His mom loves you. Although your sleepovers have slowly become stagnant because of her suspicion of you guys doing more than just movies and sleeping, she wouldn’t want anyone else to be with her son other than you.

The Jeon’s have everything set for the holidays; from the tree with presents pleasantly wrapped placed intricately underneath, to the decoration that drapes the fireplace, to the strings of tinsel and garland that cascades down the staircases, and the wreath that hangs on the front door. Ms. Jeon is obsessed with Christmas and favors nothing more, perfecting the holiday over the years for her family... well, mostly herself.

Even though Jungkook spends day and night complaining about his mom, telling her that she’s dedicating too much money and time for this ‘stupid holiday,’ he’s still the best son and tends to her every need. When she struggles in the kitchen, he’s already by her side, asking her what she needs a hand in. Or when she can’t reach a portion of the tree while decorating, there’s an annoyed expression on his face but he utilizes his towering height to help her get those spots. Jungkook is effortlessly a family man. 

“So, Jungkook, I heard you got into University?” His cousin, Sooyeon, asks. She is several years older than the two of you, almost completing her undergraduate degree. “I did! I got in with an athletic scholarship.” He’s genuinely happy, the way he shares this information, like he’s finally proud of himself and how far he’s gotten in life. The obstacles he’d overcome, the effort he had invested into the sport—they all were worth it in the end. Jeon Jungkook was reaching for his dreams.

It’s New Year’s Eve and Hoseok is hosting another party.

Underaged drinking is almost a rite of passage before entering University, and although you aren’t much of a rule breaker, it feels like something you need to do. Break out of your shell, despite the discomfort of knowing the consequences because once you get into college, none of this was going to be the same anymore. You won’t get to see Hoseok standing on the table, hollering out and swaying along to the song that plays. Jimin won’t be complaining about girls who reject him constantly. Yura won’t be there to call you out on your actions. And Jungkook, whilst he promises to stay by your side forever, there’s a possibility that it won’t happen.

“You look so pretty tonight.” Jungkook compliments you in a slur, cheeks rosy from the alcohol. You look down at your current attire; a silver sequined satin cami paired with a black leather jacket and jeans. Glancing up at the boy, you laugh at the sight of his cheeks, hand reaching up to pinch them. “You think so, Jeon?”

“If I’m being honest, I think you’re always pretty.” He hums against your hand, turning his face to give it a peck. “And I’m happy I get to be here with you. I hope you never go, and I hope nothing comes between us. It’d be nice, you know, if we...” He drifts off, mind fogging with thoughts that made him giddy because he’s giggling incessantly.

“If we what, love?”

“If we got married. Then we’d be best friends then high school sweethearts that made it.” Jungkook’s words soar you to the moon. He shares the same dream, whether or not it happens.

When the clock strikes 12, in spite of his current intoxication, he doesn’t forget you. Cupping your face in his large, warm hands, lips puckering up, he smooches you all over, laughter erupting from you. Jungkook is effortlessly a happy virus.

“Has Jungkook asked you to prom yet?”

“What?” Skimming through the pages of your notebook while in homeroom, you’re only half paying attention to anything Yura is saying. You’re on a mission to find something and even Yura can’t stop you. 

Winter is still lingering, mostly waiting for Spring to make its appearance and nobody else is more excited for it to come than Yura. Only because it’s prom season, of course. 

“Jungkook,” She reiterates, this time louder. “Jeon Jungkook? The love of your life? Is he asking you to prom?”

“Oh, prom.” Stopping at a page, your finger browsing through the highlighted and colored writing while furrowing your brows, focusing on the task. “Uh... no?”

“No?!” Yura exclaims, startling you out of your actions. She’s got your attention now. “It’s two months away. You won’t have enough time to find a dress or test out how your makeup is going to look and the shoes! What about your shoes?”

“Well, if it has your panties in a knot, why don’t you ask him yourself?”

You regret telling her that because she does. Your comment during a time of not fully investing the entirety of your attention has brought you to this: a locker filled to the brim of red roses. There’s a card in the middle of it all, so you grab it, tear it open where in the sloppiest writing it says: turn around.

There Jungkook was, in all his beauty, standing in the middle of the hall with a box of donuts in hand, opened with the writing: i donut want to go to prom with anyone else but you!

It’s not that you hate it. No, you disgustingly love it, but you wished you had Jungkook all to yourself. He’s too great, and him standing in his uniform with donuts from your favorite bakery, you can almost feel the piercing glares from other girls down the hall. But he’s yours, nonetheless, and you didn’t wish for anything more. 

Yura’s exaggeration on how long it’ll take to find a dress isn’t so much of an exaggeration when you’re shuffling through dresses in the department stores with her for the next two months, the quantity of gowns dropping by the hour. You’re grateful you found something just two weeks before the date.

Although you think the prom theme being “Hollywood” is the tackiest thing you ever heard— the sight of Jungkook standing outside of your house with both a corsage and boutonnière in hand with his hair styled back, black suit and tie with a white button up underneath, your breath hitches. He makes you feel like you’re in the presence of a celebrity; he has the ability of grabbing the attention from an entire room, despite leaning against such an old car in need of a new paint job.

In spite of it all, he seems in awe as much as you are. He thinks you’re gorgeous like this— like he’s the one who is lucky, not the other way around. You lean over, hair blown out and in a black gown that hugs your curves and compliments only the parts you wished for it to, wiping the little drip of drool that falls out the corner of his mouth. “You good, bub?”

“More than good,” he says, voice raspy. “You look... stunning.”

“Speak for yourself.” Jungkook is effortlessly handsome like this, and you wish you could keep this view all to yourself. But tonight is a time to be far from selfish.

You want to flaunt Jungkook, more than he wants to flaunt you, you convince yourself. Mostly because when you step into the gymnasium that’s fully decked out in decor, everyone’s eyes are on Jungkook. 

“I think they’re all looking at you,” He would say, but you’re not stupid. Your arms are linked with a God-like man with a personality that represents it. He does nothing but help you walking in your unfamiliarity in heels, introduce you to some of his classmates that you’ve never met before, yet manages to dedicate enough time for just the two of you, dancing the night away, whispering sweet nothings into your ears before pressing his lips against your forehead delicately.

Jungkook wins Prom King that night while some pretty girl in your grade named Nayeon wins Prom Queen. He doesn’t devote his dance to her though, he apologizes and takes your hand instead.

When he takes you home that night, the only expectation you had was to go home, shower and change into your sleepwear and sit by the window sill to talk the hours away with Jungkook from across the way.

But it’s prom. So you drive with him down the shore, wearing a spare hoodie he leaves in the trunk of his car for days that get cold after practices, and holds your hand while you stomp barefooted in the sand. He’s so pretty under the moonlight, you take note, the way that it shines on the bridge of his nose, brightens the shade of brown his orbs are, and brings warmth into his smile and laughs when you share stories about your high school years. 

The two of you make love in the backseat of his car with the sunroof opened, under the moon. Although it feels corny to do and such a cliché concept to have sex on prom night, it doesn’t feel that way with Jungkook. You argue that his car might not be able to take the constant movements, but Jungkook doesn’t care. He just wants to shower you with kisses and love throughout the hours that pass by.

When you come back to school the following Monday, Yura sits backwards nervously in her chair, staring at a letter that sits on your desk. Furrowing your brows in confusion, you gesture the piece of paper with your chin. “What’s up with that?”

“It’s... a letter, from Le Cordon Bleu. Pretty much to the equivalent to an Ivy League for culinary schools.”

Oh. Now you understand why the air felt weird. Quickly, you shuffle into your seat and slide off your backpack onto the floor. “Okay, well. What are you waiting for? Open it!”

She whimpers. “I’m scared.”

“Well, you told me to stop being scared and just do it. So, bitch, do it.”

While protesting, she does as told. Tearing the envelope open and the unraveling of the sheet of paper was nerve wrecking, possibly even more for you.

“I... got in.” Holy shit. “You got in?”

“Guess who’s going to France, bitch!”

It’s a reality, this sight of your best friend; the brightest smile on her face, cheekbones defined from the excitement in her. A dream she had, a dream that you never even knew had been a priority in her life, was coming true. 

Whether or not it was jealousy, you were proud of her regardless. Yura was able to attain her goals before even graduating high school. After further research, you learned that there were many locations for this school, and her dream was to be able to expand her knowledge throughout all those countries.

You’re tired of hearing him talk about his plans for the future where it sounded like none of the routes included you. Jungkook goes on from when the sun rises to the sun sets about what he wants to do in life, where he wants to go, and where he hopes to be at whatever age. You could listen to him talk for hours like it's a song on repeat that you never grow to hate, but today, it felt inconsistent. He had all these things he wanted to do but where were you?”

“Where do I even fit in all of this?” You finally get the courage to blurt.

Jungkook’s forehead is creased in disbelief at your outburst. “What are you talking about?”

“Well,” you start, fumbling with the fabric of your shirt, “you haven’t even mentioned me once. It’s like you’re also planning for your escape out of this relationship.”

He’s fuming. It’s been a while since he’s been this mad, especially since your last huge argument had nearly been a year ago. Otherwise, with Jungkook, there had been small disagreements that were recoverable but it feels different this time. “You don’t get to be upset with me for planning a future without you because if I’m being totally honest, you still haven’t told me what you decided that day you walked into that office, and I’m feeling rather insecure about whether or not you trust me!”

“Don’t hate me,” eyes glassy and voice wavering, your bottom lip is quivering, on the verge of tears of pure fear that Jungkook would resent you for your decision. “I told the recruiter to give that position away to someone else.”

“And why would I be mad at that?” He says, pulling you into his embrace, pressing a chaste kiss against your cheek before nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry I lashed out. I’m glad you came to that decision, I’m glad you’re telling this. Even if it’s not on the sidelines of the swimming pool with me, nagging at me what to do. Because you’ll still be there to support me.”

Your shoulders slouch, still feeling guilty wash over you like a tidal wave. “I just didn’t want you to be upset because of how much effort you went through to get me there. To even get me that offer.”

“I didn’t do anything, love.” Before a tear can escape further down your face, he swipes it away with the pad of his thumb after he pulls away. “You did that all yourself. They found you, knew who you were, and loved you. I just led them to find you. So, what did you decide on instead if you didn’t take that apprenticeship? Are you attending another University?”

“No,” You respond abruptly, rubbing your head into his chest again, muttering your next words into the fabric of his shirt. “She told me that it doesn’t take away my opportunity to still attend University there. So I enrolled there as undecided.”

There’s silence between the two of you before he finally speaks up. “Undecided?”

You don’t want to face him. Especially if the expression on his face may show disappointment, and that’s the least thing you want to do to Jungkook on your list. “Yes.” You mumble. “I didn’t know what I wanted to do, but I thought at least going to college and trying to figure out while I’m there would be at least a start in the right direction.”

Grasping you by the shoulders, he tugs you away to clearly see your face. Finally meeting his gaze, his face showed the opposite. A gleaming smile pulling on the edges of his lips with eyes that shine and sparkle underneath this lighting, you’re stunned by his reaction. “I’m so proud of you!”

“What?” Lips swollen from the crying, you pout, almost bursting out in hyperventilating tears because you didn’t want this to end before college even starts. “You chose something. You made a decision on your own, solely based on what you felt was the best for you, not because you wanted to make someone else happy. That’s all I ever wanted for you.” Jungkook is effortlessly unselfish because he wants you to be his personal coach, yet he’s telling you to do what you want to do. “I just want you to be happy. I’m happy if you are.”

“But... I should be honest with you.” He’s the one who seems uneasy now, chewing on his bottom lip anxiously. “I... not only accepted the scholarship, but they want to send me to the States for a couple months in the summer for training with Taehyung.”

You’re not stupid. What that’s code for is that there’s a chance they’re going to keep Jungkook there, offer him another University scholarship elsewhere in the States, and continue his training. How could they not? With the way he swims, his drive and ability to adapt to any situation, he’s desirable to any team. He might not be yours anymore, and as much as you wished you could keep him all to yourself, he’s Jungkook. Who wouldn’t want him?

You learned that ever since you met him. Jungkook is so wonderful, he’s meant to be shared, and everyone should know him. He’s the spark in your life that you never knew you needed until you meet him. 

It only sucked because it felt like once you finally got him, it’s already time to let him go. 

Yet when you see him standing by your side in the crowd of people in your class, on a large patch of grass that they call a football field, cap and gown in the shades of your school colors, you can’t hate anyone for wanting a piece of him. He’s only eighteen but he’s managed to accomplish so many of his goals in such a short span of time. He’s able to catch the attention of an audience bigger than the crowd at Madison Square Garden. He was able to swoon the majority of the female population in your high school. Jungkook did what even he thought was impossible, he did more than exceed his own expectations.

So when you’re standing with your diplomas in hand after throwing your cap in the air, the grin that’s glued onto his face does everything to your heart. How lucky were you to experience a first love like Jeon Jungkook?

There wasn’t much time left. Graduation is over, degrees now in hand, and futures that are waiting for your attendance.

It’s Summer again, the excruciating heat beaming from the sun’s rays reappearing, an entire year passing by since your confession to Jungkook. Although you’d rather be spending your anniversary in the next few days leading up to it, there’s a different occasion tonight under this familiar sweltering heat.

Jungkook leaves tomorrow at noon for America yet he’s procrastinating the remaining stuff he needs to pack for his trip. Well, he says it’s a trip, but you have a feeling that his stay is going to be longer than anticipated.

If you’re being truly honest with yourself, you’re scared. Eighteen, best friend/boyfriend who had been with you your entire life is leaving for the unknown. Your other best friend is leaving to pursue her dreams elsewhere as well, alone and without anyone to support her physically.

But you can’t help but think about yourself. What did this mean for you, someone who was losing the most important people in her life that were all going to hunt their aspirations, while you were just... undecided?

Laying in the field of grass, head resting comfortably on Jungkook’s arm while his other sits on his chest, the two of you admire the sunset in the midst of your silence. The hues of red, pink, orange, and yellow fill the sky, dancing and blurring into one another, gifting you a sight that you’re grateful to view with Jungkook. It was going to be a while before you got to see him again, and you’re hopeful that it’ll feel just the same.

“Three months,” He’d repeat constantly, every time he sees the pain in your expression. You both had gone so long without truly being each other, and now that you finally fessed up your hidden emotions, it’s hard to let go. “It’s only going to be for three months. Then you’d have me again.”

“But you don’t know that.” You’d say, heart tightening in agony. “There’s so much of this world that wants you, Jungkook. University is just one of the potential first stops. Someone is going to take you away, whether you like it or not. You just have too much talent and potential.” Jungkook doesn’t agree with you, but he doesn’t voice this. Not tonight, at least, if it’s the last time he gets to be with you for a while. 

Just like the sun, Jungkook eventually has to go away. He leaves for the States with Taehyung to train for the summer, projecting that he’d be back in time for the fall semester to start University with you. Even through texts and phone calls you get from him, he can’t give you a date when he’d be back, but he misses you dearly. You want to stay hopeful that he does return, attending classes with you again, study-dates, meeting up for coffee afterwards, have lunch and dinner, and continue your sleepovers, maybe even find an apartment and move in together. 

Yet again, Jungkook... he’s effortlessly Jungkook. The guy loved by everyone, yet has the hardest time loving himself. The guy who has such a promising future, one that’s almost a guaranteed dream come true for him. There’s no need for exchanges of ‘I love yous,’ because you know he does, yet you don’t want to hold him back, so you let him go. Whether or not he comes back for the fall semester, you’re not sure, but one thing you do know is that Jeon Jungkook will be your first everything, and your current everything.

[kishimoto-did-us-dirty]

Naruto Characters and Quarantine (Part 1)

Naruto characters x reader during quarantine

warnings: none

rating: K+

includes: konoha 12, sand siblings

Authors Notes: These are centered on the idea that the two of you are adults who don’t live or work together.

part 2, mayhaps?? anyone want that?? 👀

Anywho, enjoyyyy~

also, remember, these guys are shinobi. they gotta stay healthy, which is what I kept in mind when writing a lot of these.

Naruto

- totally ignores social distancing rules to come and see you

- he just has to, he doesn’t know what he would do if he didn’t :( probably die of y/n-deprivation

- this boy will not care at all about social distancing if none of you or any of your loved ones are at greater risk

- will sneak into your apartment and spends nights cuddling with you to get through his restlessness of not being able to go outside as much

- will bring you food and do your grocery shopping for you 100% if you or those around you are at a higher risk and can’t do it yourself

- just don’t expect your groceries to be 100% what you asked for

- “How was I supposed to know that Nesquik doesn’t count as a seasoning!?”

Sasuke

- non-massacre au

- another rule breaker

- just to a lesser degree

- he’s definitely gonna come see you whenever he wants, he just won’t do as much touching

- like, if you two are watching a movie together, you’re sitting on opposite sides of the sofa

- which honestly he was fine with at first, but then he realized he’s a little something called.... ✨touch starved✨

- and is now having a hard time not touching you as much as he wants

- he gradually gets more touchy overtime but still always insists on sanitizing afterwards

- he still won’t do more than a peck tho. he would absolutely hate it if you got sick bc of him.

- he also brought you a shit ton of toilet paper at the beginning of quarantine because he was worried you wouldn’t have any and it was the last batch he saw

- it’s his form of romance

Sakura

- at first she was totally all for the rules

- you two kept six feet apart with masks on at all times

- but very gradually and unconsciously... that changed lol

- she started to completely forget about the rules as it went on and would just randomly grab your arm or hug you out of excitement without even realizing it

- eventually she resorts to touching but with very strong precautions

- you both will sanitize, brush your teeth, wipe down areas, etc. as soon as you’re done hanging out

Shikamaru

- 50/50 with him

- he doesn’t care so much so as to stop seeing you and won’t wear a mask around you

- but if you try to kiss him he goes “you know we can’t do that right now.”

- will grab your hands and play with them and everything

- and may occasionally cuddle

- but he’s not going to do it as much as usual

- you two mainly just nap together

- but now you guys are napping with a couple feet between you

- again, these guys are shinobi. they gotta stay healthy and he knows that. he can’t prioritize kissing you over being the village’s strategic backbone and he needs you to understand that, too.

Choji

- my baby boy :(

- he tries so hard

- he really does

- but he just has to be around you

- he won't risk any health precautions and will still keep distance

- but he will always find ways to spend time with you while staying six feet apart

- expect a lot of social distancing picnics and food dates

- will 1000% bring you food if you need any

- he will also gladly buy you masks, sanitizer, wipes, etc. if you need it

Ino

 - Ino isn’t as frivolous as many people in the fandom depict her

- She has a good head on her shoulders

- She may be a hopeless romantic, but she isn’t stupid and knows she has a job at the hospital

- She basically just like Sakura except a little more feisty

- will yell at you if you don’t socially distance well enough

- but will also snuggle you if she knows she has some sanitizer on hand to use afterwards

- ultimately, she knows she has to prioritize your guys’ health

Kiba

- not a total rule breaker

- he’s just like a kicked puppy tbh

- will always use his nose to sniff out sickness on you when you’re not looking (you know how like some dogs can?)

- will gives you hugs and look after you

- but he, too, will keep social distancing

- I could see him just grabbing your shoulders after a distanced hang out and just gently rubbing your shoulders from an arm’s length bc he knows he can’t get any closer

- but he does break the rules sometimes 

- he’s snuck in a few kisses here and there

- Akamaru always barks at him for this though

Shino

- I love him so much

- but he ain’t breaking the rules

- he’s definitely going to social distance from you, bc him getting sick means his whole colony gets sick

- and he needs to keep himself healthy

- not to mention, if you got sick?

- he can’t even stand the thought

- he’ll just watch you do your thing from a good 6-7 feet apart and hope for everything to end soom

- he also puts a bug on you without telling you that’ll track your health

- that way he knows when you’re sick or not

Hinata

- I headcanon Hinata as being a bit of a security freak tbh

- not in the sense that anything’s wrong with her

- but she has to check that the doors leading into the house are all locked before going to bed, always stocked up with medical supplies in case of emergency, having extra face masks on her just in case, etc.

- small and quiet but still very safe

- she just likes to keep her distance and maintain safety

- she lives in a compound so any spread within it will likely extend to a few other people within her clan

- so she likes to stay distant

- but she really loves social distancing dates :)

- things like picnics, outdoor movies and training sessions!

- definitely makes you a lot of food and small gifts to make up for the lack of touch

Neji

- another rule-follower

- I mean what did you expect

- he just really doesn’t want you or anyone else getting sick because of reckless actions

- will 100% sanitize everything for you before and after you use it if you guys are out in public

- he claims it’s because you just won’t do it right

- but really it’s just because he cares

- kissed you a total of 3 times and felt a little guilty after the third since it was right after he came back from a mission and he hadn’t cleaned himself off yet

Lee

- follows the rules almost too well

- makes sure that you both are six feet apart at literally all times and might as well measure as much considering how dedicated he is to it

- HE’S HELLA DRAMATIC ABOUT IT ALL THOUGH

- EACH TIME HE REALIZES HE CAN’T HUG YOU BRINGS ON A NEW WAVE OF PASSIONATE TEARS

- he just cries a lot about it and really wishes things weren’t like this

- will often go grocery shopping with you bc he buys groceries for his elderly neighbors who are at a greater risk so they don’t have to go out (awwww)

- he will get very upset when he sees people outside without masks on when it’s things like that that make the virus keep spreading and thus keeping him from you for even longer :(

Tenten

- honestly I think she’s really casual about the whole thing

- always wears and mask and sanitizes everything, yeah

- but she gives you hugs and kisses just fine

- but only in private

- and she won’t be cuddling

- she just keeps her distance but still gives affection

- the type to get angry if you aren’t being safe enough

- like if you go to a party with multiple people there?

- she’ll scold you 100%

Gaara

- Gaara would have to social distance as kazekage

- he’s not allowed to run the risk since it’s public knowledge you aren’t living together

- this makes having private moments very difficult

- and he has to set a proper example for his citizens

- it’ll also be a large political scandal only worsened by his political opposers if he were to be caught not social distancing

- also if he got sick then that would leave the village susceptible to enemies who would take advantage of his vulnerability and attack

- but you two still do things together

- water cacti, discuss political events, watch over the village, etc.

- he gave you a cute succulent to look after while he’s not there as much

Kankuro

- similar to Gaara, as his brother, it wouldn’t look very good if he was caught disobeying the rules

- he’s pretty mature about it but will have private moments with you when you’re alone

- he doesn’t care so much about keeping 6 ft apart when you two are alone

- he just won’t go overboard

- just some handholding, hand kisses, and just petting in general

- when quarantine ends though, he’s all over you omg

- you’re the first person he comes to see and will hold you so tight

Temari

- angry love

- will personally bark orders at you about proper safety precautions

- your mask never has to worry about being on improperly when temari is around

- you can see her blush underneath her mask though

- despite her tough exterior, it’s visible just how sad she is

- Temari is tough but she thrives off of being around the people she loves

- not being able to be truly with you really makes her depressed for a while

- even offered to have you moved into the kazekage family house with them so you didn’t have to socially distance at home anymore

- takes every precaution she can with herself and those around her so this can end faster and she can be with you again

THAT’S ALL! SORRY THEY LOWKEY SUCKED! MAYBE A PART 2 IF REQUESTED ENOUGH???

[bakubitch-minusultra]

Not Alone: Chapter Five

-> an apocalyptic series with bnha characters but without quirks because im the writer and i can do whatever the fuck i want :P this chapter has more shit in it lol

-> Word Count: 2.9k

-> Warnings: blood, violence, guns, descriptive shit abt the infected peeps

-> Taglist: @5sosfckss @laudthingcat [if you wanna be added lmk <3]

Hades whined. He never whined much but he sensed it. Y/n couldn’t look back. The sickening feeling that was creeping around inside of her grew with every step she took. The cabin was a parent, a hug, a haven. It was the only thing she had from before. Turning her back on it felt like hurting herself. Every step she took was a betrayal to her soul.

“We’ll come back Y/n.”

Y/n looked over at Mina. She wanted to scratch her eyes out and roast her flesh over a spit. Y/n knew her face expressed that. She knew because of the way Mina winced when she met her eyes. Hades rubbed against Y/n’s side, his back up to her hip bones. She rested her fingers in his coat. She lightly gripped his fur, as if holding onto him would ground her and she would get back to her semblance of her safety.

Fingers brushed her arm and then squeezed and suddenly Y/n is pulled back into an embrace. She wanted to fight against it but the warmth overwhelmed her. She couldn’t fight her tears and Kirishima at the same time so she just let him hug her.

“Y/n we’ll come back one day. We didn’t hide all that food for nothing. It and the wood and the supplies will be here when we come back.”

Y/n pushed his body away and craned her neck to look up into his dark red eyes, “Don’t you see? We can never come back. This is always going to be a place that’s watched. They won’t stop until we’re all working the farms.”

His eyes grew passionate, “We erased all of the signs of life. Give it time. Not that many places have a functioning well Y/n. We can’t afford to just ignore it.”

She wanted to push him away, but a funny thing was happening to her skin when he touched it. It was just like the books she read. He made her swoon and shiver simultaneously. He frustrated her.

She shook her head and tore from his grip, “Look, we need to get going.”

The path down the mountain wasn’t her favorite hike, but today she felt distracted. She walked quickly, listening to the forest sounds. Hades seemed content. His sloppy wolf face was a great indicator of what’s what in the forest.

“Mina, remember the second house your dad hid us at?” Mina ignored him and Y/n wished that she could do the same. “I think it was near here. Remember it had the pool and we swam in it to get clean.” Y/n glanced at her, Mina’s jaw was set. But Kirishima looked oblivious, “God then we found that pantry full of food. Cherry pie filling on toast made on the barbeque was my favorite.”

Y/n imagined the cherry pie filling for half a second before catching a glimpse of Hades in her peripheral. He was crouched with his hackled up and stalked into the long grass. Y/n imitated him and crouched low and Mina followed along. Not from watching Y/n but from seeing Hades. Her eyes haven’t left him.

“What?”

Y/n groaned, “Get down.” Kirishima ducked along with the two girls, but he was too large to actually be able to hide in the grass. She raised an eyebrow at Mina who rolls her eyes. It made Y/n snicker; she’s never actually snickered before.

“How are you still alive?” Y/n whispered.

Mina laughed quietly, “Pure luck. Not even kidding.”

Y/n glanced back at a red-faced Kirishima and smirked.

“Nice to see you have an actual personality Y/n.”

She stuck her tongue out at him until she heard it.

The high moan.

Y/n felt her eyes close in fear and disappointment. She thought one of them were going to die. Whoever couldn’t run fast enough would die.

Hades looked back at Y/n for a second and she could see the worry. He crept forward along the grass and Y/n licked her finger and put it in the wind. The breeze was behind them, meaning it was carrying their smell down the hill. The infected were like survivors that just don’t seem to die. They hunted like animals.

Mina licked her lips and Y/n could see the worry and fear cross her face. Her heartbeat was pounding in her neck and Y/n could watch it increase. Mina looked around and pointed to the trees behind them. But Y/n shook her head. Climbing a tree only puts you a tree surrounded by the infected.

“The river,” Y/n whispered.

Kirishima looked at Y/n with a confused look, “How far?”

“A mile.”

“Y/n your leg and mine won’t make it outrunning the infected for a whole mile.”

Y/n sighed, she knew he was right. But she didn’t have any other ideas. She pulled one of her guns out of her pack and passed it to Kirishima and looked him in the eyes.

“Don’t shoot unless you have to. Don’t shoot me or yourself either.”

Mina took the rifle with the scope, which she had grown fond of, and took the right flank. Hades stalked down the middle of the field and Y/n took left. They left Kirishima on the hillside. His injuries were worse than Y/n’s. The bullet never made its way very far into her leg. The new stitches, lavender and tea tree oil made it heal faster.

She looked back at Kirishima’s red head of hair poking out of the long grass and sighed. He was too big to even try to hide. Y/n was sure that he would be the death of them all. She knew she would leave them if she had to. She forced herself into that agreement. No matter what happened, her father didn’t die so she could waste her life on strangers.

But they didn’t feel like strangers anymore.

She focused her thoughts and scanned the grassy and thin forest.

Bile rose up her throat when she saw them. They were slumped over something. They looked disgusting and diseased, even from the distance Y/n was at. One shoved the other and the high pitch moan shrieked out across the emptiness. Y/n felt the walls of fear closing in on her. She saw a hand come up and down on whatever they had on the group. One of them was striking it. It was still alive. Whatever it was, was sick now, infected like them. They were the closest thing to zombies. They were human but lived with the sickness in a way that could never be considered survival. Their skin was covered in sores, open and scabbed over. Their hair was falling out where sores had taken over their scalps. They cry tears of blood like in the fantasy movies Y/n watched when she was younger. The first thing the virus destroyed was the throat. The high moan was from the scarring in the throat and the brain damage the high fever caused.

She looked toward Mina and hoped that she wasn’t scared. But she quickly forced the thought from her mind and looked back at the infected dinner party. The last time she worried about either of them she got shot.

Y/n pulled her mask from back pocket and slid it over her face. It wasn’t a guarantee but it was better than a gamble.

It was another rule Y/n had. She wore it whenever they were around. The virus should have died out years ago but the ones who got sick after it mutated survived, if you could call it that. They were contagious but didn’t seem to die, no matter how sick their bodies got. There weren’t many of them left but somehow they still managed to ruin lives.

Y/n counted the heads, seven. Not mentioning the one on the ground, if it was human. It could be an animal. The infected had no sense. They attacked anything that moves. Their hunger was too great. Y/n’s seen them attack a bush on a windy day.

Y/n knew that she could take down at least three before they got close enough to make reloading her bow a gamble. She didn’t like gambles. She knew Mina had a pocket full of bullets, but she would be forced to trust that Mina could shoot them before they got to her. That too felt like a gamble when she thought about it.

She felt stuck, like her back was against a wall. She knew Hades could take down at least one. Together they could guarantee four. It still didn’t feel safe enough. She turned back and looked at the hill behind her. She wanted to go home. She wanted to climb the hill and get into her own and lock the world out. Again, she regretted opening the stupid door. She should have left them. She should have left him in that stupid hole.

Y/n was about to run and whistle when she looked at Kirishima once more. He winked at her and grinned. Her stomach started to do the hurting twinge thing. Her lips grin back, she never told them to do that. They seemed to be making choices for themselves.

She pulled the arrow back and sited in the largest one. She felt the gusts of wind and the cycle they seemed to come in. A large gust hit and then left spaces in the air until the next one. She exhaled and released the arrow. He had dark brown hair and a swollen face. He was a man once. But she turned her heart off to him and reloaded instantly.

She felt the next gust of wind and fired, compensating for it. The arrow sliced into a matted head of dark blonde locks. She reloaded, ignoring the ticklish feeling on her cheeks. The infected had noticed two were down. They turned their faces around, searching. Her next arrow hit the milky eye of an older one. The remaining four stood up and began to make the squeal. She cringed, and knew that the sound would haunt her for weeks.

Her next arrow hit the one pointing at her. She dropped the second it slid through her open mouth. She felt a shiver at the sight and reloaded as the remaining three shriek and start their mad dash toward her.

She was able to drop another one before turning and running for the nearest tree. She wanted to run the other way. She wanted to run into the hills and leave them but her feet wouldn’t listen to her. Her legs wouldn’t make it far with a bullet hole in it. The long grass tangled in her feet and pulled at her and the burn in her leg tried to convince her to stop running.

“Y/n. Y/n.” She ignored the voice and continued to run. She could feel the panic rising.

“Y/n they’re all dead.”

She reached the bark of a huge tree and pulled herself up onto a branch just using her arms. She’s practiced this. She looked down at the only two people standing in the grass who were looking at her like she was crazy. But Hades paces. He understood. They’ve run from them many times.

Kirishima approached the tree limping slightly. He put his hands out like he was scared of her, “Y/n they’re all dead.”

“How?”

Mina beamed up at her, “I shot them. I waited for them to run to you and then dropped them all instantly.”

“You? You killed them?”

Mina tilted her head, “You still don’t trust us to help you?”

“I’m stuck.”

Kirishima stood below the huge branch and put his arms out, “Jump.”

Y/n threw down her bow and arrows and looked around. The field didn’t move, except where the wind stroked the dark amber colored grass.

She turned over on her stomach and lowered herself from the branch. She hung there for a second before the strong arms circled her and held her tightly. Suddenly the screaming agony in her leg dulled. Hades nudged her legs and whined,

Kirishima’s breath brushed against her face as he spoke, “You looked a bit like you were going to run away.”

Y/n didn’t realize how close their faces were until she saw herself in his eyes. She bit her lower lip and shook her head, “I panicked. I’ve never been hurt like this when they’re this close before.”

He pulled her close, “I’ll protect you Y/n.” He looked toward Mina, “We both will.” Y/n could see the darkness in her eyes, it was the same look she gave everyone.

“Thanks,” Y/n said just loud enough to be heard.

Mina nodded, “You killed most of them. You have to leave more for me to kill next time.”

Y/n still felt scared and alone.

Kirishima placed her on the ground gently. “Y/n you’re like Robin Hood.” Y/n smirked at the mention of a novel she’s read multiple times during her years of solitude.

Mina sighed, “Kiri don’t get started again on the stories.”

Y/n smiled at him, “I like reading too. I’ve read the same books for ten years. Sometimes I get lucky and find a small paperback that I can fit in my pack. Robin Hood was one that I’ve read a lot.”

Instead of enjoying the feeling of being near him, a heavy disgusting feeling blanketed her. It forced away the joy she borrowed from him. She almost left him. She almost left them. She would leave him. It was her nature.

He frowned at her, “I’d ask a dime for your thoughts but it would probably be more than I could afford.” Y/n laughed but it wasn’t the same free feeling of joy she had seconds ago. She walked away from him and went to pet Hades, who was needy all of a sudden. He rubbed against her and jumped up on his back legs to stand and wrap his paws around her. She hugs him back.

“I love you too,” she whispered into his fur. She glanced at them and nodded in the direction of the farmhouse. “It’s a days walk to the house.” She pointed down the hill.

“We need to deal with him too,” Mina pointed at the beige mass at the bottom of the field and trees.

Y/n squinted, “It’s a man.”

“Great. You get to kill him.”

Y/n laughed bitterly and handed over the bow and arrow to Mina. Mina thought like Y/n and she liked it. She never fired once when Y/n was shooting the arrows. Mina understood conservation. She gave Y/n a wide-eyed smile and took the bow.

“Really? I’ve never done this before.”

“We need to walk closer to him. When you pull the arrow back control every inch of your arms. It feels hard at first but you’ll get used to the tension.

They walked over to where the hill crests. They were near one of the fallen infected and Y/n could smell him. She pointed at a tree further to the right and they all walked over there.

They walked away from the smell of the rotting sick carcass. At the tree Mina attempted to pull the arrow back. Her skinny arms trembled and she looked frustrated.

“I know how you feel right now. It took me two years. It won’t happen on the first try.”

Mina pouted, “Can we make me a bow maybe?”

Y/n nodded excitedly. They hadn’t had much to talk about. She took the bow and arrow and shot the dying man. His body trembled slightly and his skin had chew marks. The infected will eat anything.

“Hold it steady, sight in what you want to shoot and then take a deep breath.” Y/n explained. They were close enough that it made a slicing sound as the arrow entered his temple. “Always exhale when you release.” Y/n grimaced as she looked at the arrow sticking out of his bleeding head.

“Wow,” Mina said in awe.

Y/n nodded, “Yeah it took a lot of practice.”

“Sweet fucking god.”

Y/n turned toward Kirishima’s voice, “What?”

Kirishima was standing behind the two girls, “You guys do realize that’s a person you just shot. These were all people.”

Mina scoffed, “They’re infected Kiri. They’re not like you or me or even the city people.”

Y/n frowned, “City people?”

Kirishima looked down at the grass.

Mina looked at Y/n, “We saw it. We went close enough to see it.”

“Electricity? Running water?”

Mina nodded, “Everything. No cars but a subway and houses and pretty big buildings. It’s on the edge of the desert.”

Y/n felt sickened by the question that popped into her head but she asked anyway, “What about the farms?”

“Up and running still. I think the babies go to the city after they’re born.”

Kirishima sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He seemed bothered by the conversation.

“He’s military.”

“What?” Y/n asked as she looked at Mina who was pointing to the dead man with the arrow sticking out of his temple. She looked at her boots and shook her head. “We need to be far away. Now.”

They didn’t talk. They left the arrows sticking out of the faces of the people on the ground. Y/n never took the arrows from the infected. They walked across the small field and into the forest on the other side.

She watched Hades the entire walk. It stopped her from watching Kirishima. Hades was the best warning system. Kirishima was a distraction.

---

weewooweewoo i smell like poopoo

[jaffacakerebellion]

I posted this on Saturday but I really need people to hear this

There was a protest in my city today, by a group called ‘white rose’. They were protesting lockdowns, masks and vaccinations. They’d stuck up stickers all over a certain area, outside a library, near a university campus, and around a park. It scared the shit out of me, seeing the people in town, with about 10 police officers keeping the 25-50 protesters in a tiny (and incovenient tbh) space, not too far from where they’d put up the stickers. As I was walking home, I found some of the stickers, and tore down as many as I could see.

Some of the stickers were obviously theirs- meme templates from reddit, claiming the government was lying about the pandemic to stop people from ‘living their lives’, saying ‘the media is the real virus’ and ‘if you tell a lie enough times it becomes the truth’ and all sorts of shit. Some other stickers were much more inconspicuous- little round ones with a pair of hands tenderly holding a blue dove. Around the edge they said ‘I do not consent to another lockdown’ and ‘I do not consent to get vaccinated’. This was very similar to some of the banners they were holding, and some were wearing ‘FREE HUGS’ t-shirts.

The one sticker which stuck out to me most is one which said something like ‘how do you think the German people felt when the Nazis were taking over, with no power to stop them?’ This is the same rationale the Nazi Party used at the time to gain ‘support’- convince people there is no other way, that their system is the strongest, the right system, how will you disprove us? They scared people into their system, turning vulnerable people into fascists. The White Rose is employing Neo-Nazi thinking. To be honest, it was fucking terrifying.

After they were presumably done, they started coming back to the park where they’d already posted plenty of stickers. It’s a hot Saturday afternoon, so lots of people are in the park, families, children, and I’m busy ripping these stickers (most of them about half the size of a bumper sticker) off bins and signposts. Now, at this point I’ve already been confronted by:

- a woman with red hair (dyed red) in a black suit. She asks me what I’m doing. I tell her that some people have been spreading misinformation, and she recalls the demo in town. She agrees ‘yeah, that did look kinda like misinformation. huh. well, cool, okay’. She may just be bad at interacting with people, but there was something pointed, and I don’t think that she could pluck up the courage to tell me to look them up and find out jus how wrong I am. She didn’t look much like the other supporters.

- a woman in a ‘FREE HUGS’ t-shirt. When she asked me ‘why are you taking those down’, I already had a headache and didn’t fancy an argument, so I said ‘they’re the wrong ones.’ She couldn’t hear me, because so many people were walking past. She yelled ‘what?!’ so I repeated ‘THEY’RE THE WRONG ONES’, nodded affirmatively, and walked in the opposite direction. This, of course, was nonsense, but it left her looking incredibly fucking confused, and she eventually just walked away, which I was thoroughly delighted about, as I wanted to return and take more stickers down. I later realised that the men walking past and making so much noise was probably most of the others at the protest, like 25 men and me and her in an underpass. If they’d have seen me taking the stickers down, who knows what would’ve happened. (yes I know I made some bad decisions today and it would’ve been my fault but fuck it, when a dog shits on the pavement someone’s got to clean it up)

-Two bald middle aged white men, both holding pints. One of them yelled ‘what are you taking them down for? Read what’s on them, you might actually learn something!’ I just said nothing and stared at him as he walked away, whilst continuing to crumple one up, which I’d just taken off a railling.

- Some old Scottish guy and his family. I pretended to be taking them down bc the QR codes didn’t work and the sticker had to be replaced. He asked me why I had a mask on, I lied and said my mum wouldn’t let me out of the house without it and took it off. He told me what to go and tell my mum, whilst standing way too close, with his family gathered around him (like 6 people in total, including 2 kids). He was the reason I took a COVID test when I got home, alongside the blaring headache.

-Another family, this time the patriarch was a skinhead in a black polo shirt and jeans, same height as me (kinda short). Just like the others I was confronted by, his regional accent was very strong. Again, I said the QR code didn’t work. I started to walk away this time, kinda scared, and all his family walked up into the park, but he left his teenage daughter behind for a bit to make sure I didn’t come back (how brave). I came back anyway, but they wanted to go into the park and have fun.

But the last pair is what got me. One of them claimed to have done a biomedical science degree at the local university back in 2005. He was the only non-white person involved, and the only one who had anything scientifically based to say. However, the more I asked him about the degree he said he had, the more he started backing physically away from the conversation, claiming he had to go. The discussion I had with him lasted maybe 20 minutes, during which he confessed a belief that big pharma was dishonest and covered up heinous activity, which I agreed was absolutely right, but these ideas came to the total wrong conclusion.

I’m not explaining this very well anymore, it’s late and I’ve still got a headache, but his strong short white skinhead friend kept walking away then coming back, even at one point claiming that he was going to go and get someone. When I asked the first if he agreed with the non-scientific way the first man’s ‘friends’ were talking, and the fact that he is coming at this argument from such a different angle, he just changed the subject. It was around that time that I noticed that he wasn’t blinking, and that he was wearing a ‘Guardians 300′ t-shirt. I’ve since looked them up. They’re a cult. Nobody’s talking about it. He tried explaining the science to me, and I said that I don’t know enough about science to understand what he was saying, but tried to change the subject away from science- it just clearly wasn’t about that for any of the protesters except him.

Anyway, after he was done talking to me and claimed he had to go (right after I claimed to know a few lecturers in the university (I don’t but it was worth a try to see if he was bluffing) and started questioning him on who he knew), I turned around and just kept on taking off those fucking stupid stickers, including two which the skinhead had stuck on while we were chatting. They saw me doing this. I wanted them to see it, but now I’m not so sure. It was a dangerous move.

When people feel certain of something, you have to listen to them to let them air their uncertainties and change their mind. They were aware of this. I was aware of this. Neither of us listened much to each other. I was, to be honest, freaking out all the way home. What the fuck? I’d only seen people say this online, usually Americans, I’d heard about them on the news too. Suddenly I was getting looks from strangers, whilst taking down these stickers, and honestly had no idea who was who, or what they thought of me. And anyway, I’m trans, and have the fear of being looked at funny for that compounded with the fear of what a member of this group could do, it was terrifying.

I think there are very few things which stand between a person coming to a logical conclusion about what’s going on and a less logical conclusion and getting sucked into dangerous territory, although in this day and age there aren’t many logical things left. I’ve experienced the Dunning-Kruger effect at school, but some may never have experienced that, to feel like their understanding of something can only ever go so far.  I’m alright with saying ‘I don’t know’ and admitting that I’m not an expert, but I feel like all these people feel like they do have to know everything, and their genuine, valid fears have turned them to these crazy ideas because they’re nicer than the truth. I got told by a lot of people to ‘do your research’, but I didn’t say that to them, because they may well do their own research, but not necessarily using reputable sources. 

This is how Fascism works. If I had the same beliefs as them, I know I’d probably be doing the exact same things- trying to spread awareness. They genuinely think that they’re making a positive difference when they ‘change people’s minds’. Either that or those stickers were put up to get ripped down, to show their followers that ‘everyone is out to get you’. I was definitely scared most, however, by how close we all are in this day and age, to being them. I’ve attended protests, argued online, sent people links, spread my views. Most of my friends and I share the same views, we share each others’ information, when something’s wrong we blame ‘them’, or ‘the government’. These radicalised people were people I’d probably passed in the street before, who I’ve bought bread next to or admired their dog in the park. I met the next Nazis today, and they looked just like everyone else.

[agwitow]

Dead Impressions Ch. 4

This is the first chapter where I’ve really started to deviate from the original, thoughts and comments much appreciated!

Read Chapter 1 Here | Read Previous Chapter Here

****

Once Jane and Elizabeth were alone, the former, who had been cautious in her praise of Mr. Bingley before, expressed to her sister just how very much she admired him. “He is just what a young man ought to be—sensible, good-humoured, lively—and I never saw such happy manners!”

“He is also handsome,” replied Elizabeth. “Which a young man ought likewise to be, if he possibly can.”

“I did not expect him to ask me to dance more than once.”

“No? I did. What could be more natural than his asking you again? He could not help seeing that you were about five times as pretty as every other woman in the room. No thanks to his gallantry for that.”

Jane laughed and threw a pillow at her. Lizzy caught it with a grin and threw it back, saying:

“Well, he is certainly very agreeable, and I give you leave to like him. You have liked many a stupider person.”

“Lizzy!”

“You are a great deal too apt to like people in general, you know. All the world are good and agreeable in your eyes.”

“I would not wish to be hasty in censuring anyone.”

“And it makes you all the more lovely.”

They fell into bed, still chatting and laughing together as they recounted their various experiences of the evening. Their chatter had just begun to soften when Mrs. Bennet knocked on their door before stepping inside. One look at her face had both girls up and out of bed as quick as could be.

“Mama,” Jane cried. “Whatever is the matter?”

Mrs. Bennet tried to speak, but no sound came out. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then tried again. “Your Father. I—” She paused and took another deep breath. “I need your help.”

“What’s wrong?” Elizabeth asked.

Mrs. Bennet shook her head and gestured for them to follow her. They went down to Mr. Bennet’s office where a small lantern cast quivering shadows over the room. A bitter, sickly sweet scent hung heavy in the air and the only sounds were the gentle settling of the house and the soft hush of their breaths. Mr. Bennet’s head lolled to the side, as it often did when he dozed off while trying to read, and his skin looked washed out, with a tinge of grey. A single sob escaped from Jane, breaking the deathly stillness that had fallen over them.

“What do we do now?” she asked, her voice small and afraid.

“Help me carry him out to the old stillroom. We… we will need to keep him in there until he is settled,” Mrs. Bennet said, her voice trembling only a little.

They wrapped him in his blanket before blowing out the lantern, then struggled to carry him out. It was not that Mr. Bennet had been a very large man, or that the three ladies were particularly frail, but supporting someone who could move at least a little under their own power made such a task significantly easier. And with each of them acutely aware of every noise they made, lest they wake someone, it was a slow process to move him out to the ramshackle little building that had been a stillroom until Mr. Bennet had had one built onto the kitchen shortly after he and Mrs. Bennet married.

Though the outside of the building was overgrown with ivy and in dire need of repair, the interior was surprisingly tidy. An old board-and-trestle table took up much of the space and looked to have been freshly waxed. The shelves along the walls were slightly crooked, but straight enough to keep the things carefully placed on them from sliding to the floor.

“What is all of this?” Elizabeth asked.

“Hopefully everything we will need,” Mrs. Bennet replied.

Once they had Mr. Bennet’s body settled on the table, she sighed. “What we have to do next is not going to be pleasant.”

“What do you mean?” Jane asked.

Mrs. Bennet rolled her sleeves up and took down a jar, some rags, and an old knife from the shelves. “We must prepare his body now—it will not be possible to do after he rises.”

“So he does have the virus,” Lizzy said.

“Of course. I would be very surprised if any of our generation did not.”

Jane frowned. “How can that be?”

“The walking virus is not just passed from being attacked by a ghoul. If it was, there would not be any risk of an outbreak starting from an improperly interred body. No. There is some other way the virus is transferred.”

“But is there not the possibility Father does not have it?” Jane persisted.

Mrs. Bennet shook her head and pulled open his shirt to reveal a faint, puckered scar on his shoulder. “He survived one of those outbreaks as a child. The parsonage in Meryton has kept a list of everyone in Heartforshire who has been directly exposed for many years now, in the hopes of preventing such incidents. And yet, here we are.”

“When…when will he rise?” Jane whispered.

“No sooner than three days. Five, if we are in luck.”

Elizabeth eyed the various things Mrs. Bennet had squirreled away in preparation for this very day. “What do we need to do?”

Mrs. Bennet drew in a deep breath, her eyes squeezing shut for a moment as she steeled herself. “His body must be washed, fluids drained, organs replaced with straw and sawdust and herbs, cuts sewn shut, and a special balm worked into his skin.”

“Oh, is that all?” Lizzy asked.

Mrs. Bennet glowered. “It is the minimum we must do. If there is time, it would be best if we could soak his body in a ghastly mix of spirits and oils after he is… is drained. And then a different mix before the balm is applied.”

Jane paled and sagged against the wall. “Oh, my.”

Lizzy shot her a worried frown. “What else needs to be done, beside tending to the body?”

“If we do not get the body treated, then he will begin to rot and this will all be for naught!”

“I know, Mama,” she said, pulling upon all of her patience. “But if people realize Father is… missing… then it will also be for naught. There are three of us. We do not all need to tend to his… to him.”

Her shoulders slumped. “Ah. Yes. Oh, how are we to keep everyone from suspecting? A fortnight is a long time for no one to see him! Oh, my dear Mr. Bennet, why must you have died now? You should still be here to vex me for many years more!”

Jane and Elizabeth wrapped her in a hug as tears spilled down her cheeks. Their own were hardly dry as they shared the grief of having lost someone so very dear to them. When they were able to compose themselves, they drew apart and each took several deep breaths to further calm themselves.

“Father regularly spent most of the day secluded in his office. That will help hide his absence,” Elizabeth said. “Mary might wonder, but Kitty and Lydia can easily enough be distracted by trips to Meryton, or attending teas with various acquaintances.”

“I can let a few know we wish for them to expand their circle of acquaintances,” Jane offered. “It will only take a few days for such news to spread and, I daresay, they will receive more invites than they will know what to do with. And I am sure we can prevail on Mary to accompany them.”

Mrs. Bennet nodded. “And I will pass on a similar desire to Mrs. Phillips. She is a devoted aunt and will surely enjoy introducing the girls to all who have not yet had the pleasure.”

“That is one part dealt with. What of Mr. Bingley? You invited him to dinner and even if he can be distracted by pleasant conversation, there are others of his party who will not.”

“Oh! What horrid timing! At least with so many at Netherfield with him, he is likely to forget that promise for a time, and we must not remind him,” she said. “Dearest Jane, if he favours you as I suspect he must—and it is not just from motherly affection—then you will surely be invited to Netherfield often. Pray, do your best to keep such invitations coming from their house with no expectation from ours.”

“Mama, it would be rude to not return an invitation of our own!” Jane protested.

“Oh, very well. Then invite them for a walk, or a picnic. Something they would not expect to see your Father at.”

“And the Lucases? The maids and cook?” Elizabeth prompted.

Mrs. Bennet frowned, wringing her hands. “I do not know. Oh, I do not know! What can we do? The charade will be over before it has even begun!”

“Calm, Mama,” Jane soothed. “We will think of something. Do not fret so.”

She nodded and gave her daughters a tremulous smile. “Thank you, my dears. You should get your rest—I will see to this first part myself.”

“You do not need to do this alone,” Jane said, though there was a decided sickly tinge to her complexion.

“Thank you, but it will give me a chance to say goodbye. I… it would be best you did not see.”

Lizzy nodded. Mrs. Bennet had a hollow in her heart that needed to be filled several times over with tears—a similar one nestled within Lizzy herself—and it was a pain that was hard to face with others nearby. She gave her Mother another hug before pulling Jane away to seek their beds. There would be more than enough to keep them busy in the following days. They could give Mrs. Bennet the space she needed this night.

#

Their sleep was fitful and oft interrupted by quiet bouts of crying. Elizabeth gave up any pretense of sleeping shortly before dawn and left Jane to gain whatever more rest she might. The house was mostly quiet, with the cook only have begun the day’s work. She slipped down to her parents’ room and knocked softly. No response greeted her so she eased the door open.

Mrs. Bennet lay curled atop the coverlet, her cheeks red and blotchy from her tears and her breath coming in little pants as if even in her sleep she were fighting back tears. Elizabeth fetched an extra blanket and tucked it around her mother, pausing to smooth some hair away from her face.

She gazed around the room, keenly feeling her father’s absence, even though she rarely intruded upon them there. An old jacket hung from a hook, ready for the next time Mr. Bennet had felt up to taking a walk. A walk that wouldn’t happen now. She bit her lip to keep her tears in check as she pulled the coat down and cradled it against her chest. The delicate scent of old books, candles, and a hint of the sweetmeats he’d liked best clung to the fabric. She swung the jacket around her shoulders and imagined she were sitting in his office with him.

“Mr. Bennet?” Lizzy turned to see her mother peering at her with red eyes. Upon realizing it wasn’t him, Mrs. Bennet slumped back against the pillows. “I thought for a moment he wasn’t gone.”

She moved to her Mother’s side and gave her a hug. “I am sorry for waking you, Mama.”

“Why are you wearing your Father’s jacket, Lizzy?”

“It reminded me of him,” she admitted.

Mrs. Bennet nodded. “It reminded me of him too.”

An idea lit inside Elizabeth and she stared down at the jacket covering her. It was a bit out of fashion, and certainly too long for her, dropping all the way to her ankles, but bulky enough to hide any shape beneath it. “Mama… if I hid my hair beneath a hat, would I look very much like Father?”

She frowned and pushed herself up until she were leaning against the headboard. “What nonsense are you talking about now, Lizzy?”

Giving the jacket a little shake, she turned her back to her Mother and asked, “Could I be mistaken for Father?”

A moment of silence followed the question as Mrs. Bennet realized what her second eldest was suggesting. “You are much shorter than your Father, but if we gave you a cane, perhaps others might simply think he is stooped.”

Lizzy nodded and fetched up a short hat with a brim that sagged ever-so-slightly. She twisted her hair atop her head and pulled the hat over, wriggling it until it was settled firmly.

“Turn up the jacket collar too, Lizzy,” Mrs. Bennet instructed as she searched the wardrobe for a cane that might be used. Once the cane was found, the two women studied the effect in the mirror. “It will not fool anyone who sees you up close, but I daresay it would be enough at a distance.”

“Gloves, Mama,” she suggested, wiggling her fingers. “I have no ink stains. It might not be noticed, but better to hide my hands regardless.”

Mrs. Bennet patted her cheek. “You are very clever, Lizzy dear.”

Finally dressed to meet both of their approvals, they left the bedroom together. Mrs. Bennet popped into the kitchen to fetch one of the previous day’s biscuits and give the cook a falsely cheerful declaration that Mr. Bennet was feeling up for a walk. With the biscuit in one hand and the cane in the other, Lizzy set off to wander down the least travelled roads of the neighbourhood, pausing to give an occasional wave to some person or other, before heading home again.

(Read Chapter 5)

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[crimson-dxwn]

At Odds - Chapter 4

Summary: The Empire uses dirty tactics to bring Mandalore to its knees. Orla gets in a fight(s).

Warnings: Realistic medical scenarios (including a minor character death), violence, blood, c*ddling

Words: 4200

Mij Gilamar is the kind of physician every young doctor or medic looked up to - kind, brilliant, a patient teacher. He’d been a mentor to her back in medical school and so much of her success was due to his encouragement and kind words. So seeing the look of anxious terror on his face is not putting Ori at ease. 

She looks down at the datapad sitting on her lap. Her stylus hovers over the question on the form. Is there any chance you could be...

He'd been sent from Sundari, to try and prepare Keldabe for the onslaught of the illness that had now overwhelmed the old capital. The man looks tired, his brown hair streaked with silver hanging limp, armor loose on his gaunt frame. The room was full of nurses, doctors, medics and therapists, mostly specialists who didn’t work in the field that often. 

“It’s become clear this is an engineered agent. I expect you to keep this in the utmost confidence moving forward. We have the best bioengineers on Mandalore working on a vaccine and we need to do what we can for our patients until they develop one.” 

The situation really must be dire if they were bringing the obstetricians to the party. Dr. Gilamar explains the proposed mechanism of the virus, how its symptoms mimic Candorian Plague, how the agent’s genetic sequence has been altered. With a grim expression, he continues to detail the therapies that had been attempted in Sundari without success, that the fatality rate was nearing thirty percent, how it was spreading like wildfire in the ruins of the city. The mood in the room is grim.

He goes on about containment strategies they’d tried in Sundari, how they believed the virus spread, how it killed. Who it killed. 

“I understand if any of you want to opt out. We won’t think less of you, nor will we ask for reasons.” 

Ori doesn’t want to opt out. She has a sense of duty to her people. But watching them die without tools to help isn’t what she has in mind. No matter the risk of transmission, which according to Mij was still out of control. What nobody was addressing in the room was who exactly had set the virus upon Mandalore, if it really was an engineered organism. Mandalorians always had enemies, but it was easy to guess the most likely culprit. Either the Empire was clumsily stupid or so incredibly bold that being stealthy didn’t matter to them. Unfortunately Orla suspects it was the latter. Mij finishes up his speech and tittering erupts throughout the room.

“Please let me know if you have any questions, otherwise you can return back to your work. I expect to hear from you soon regarding your decision.”

They all file out of the room, turning in pads as they go. Looking around her, Ori doesn’t see a single person decline to work with the pandemic patients. A ping comes from her datapad from the nurses upstairs; one of her patients is getting ready to push and she needs to be there soon. Gathering her things, she moves to head back up to the delivery ward before Gilamar stops her. 

“Doctor Beviin, it’s good to see you.” 

“It’s good to see you, Mij. I wish it was under different circumstances.” 

“Agreed.” He sighs, pursing his lips. “We’ll need you here. I know you’ve been a specialist for a long time - and I don’t want to pressure you - but we don’t have enough boots on the ground here and we haven’t even hit the peak yet.” Orla wishes she could see the bottom half of his face through the mask. 

“Of course, Mij,” she tells him as her datapad pings again, “I’m so sorry, I have a patient upstairs I need to take care of.” 

He nods his head, body relaxing minutely as she signs her form and hands him the datapad. 

---

Three Weeks Later

Summer, Keldabe, Northern Mandalore

In Keldabe it starts as a cough, benign enough at first that people don’t stay home from work or travel. Mandalorians fight through illnesses and this is no exception, though that is the exact reason it spreads so well. 

The spread of the illness concides perfectly with an Imperial garrison being erected just outside Keldabe, complete with a bland-looking Administrator to oversee it. Plus hundreds of transport ships packed with shiny new stormtroopers to man the helm. 

Unfortunately the populace is too preoccupied by the sickness spreading to the city to put up much of a fight. Even Mandalorians couldn’t hope to bring down the might of a government consolidated from both the gutted Grand Republic and the Confederacy of Independent Systems. It wasn’t a secret the population wasn’t replenishing itself; many had died in the Clone Wars, as mercenaries on both sides and many battles in between. Death by a thousand cuts. Ori couldn’t decide which was a more frightening prospect, immediate and painful death from this virus or slow and strangling subjugation by the Empire.

The new Imperial administrator laments the incompetence of the Mand’alor in controlling the pandemic. The screen in the doctor’s lounge is perfectly positioned in front of her chosen couch so Ori can watch the woman drone on about the might of the Emperor, how peace and security has been restored to the galaxy... all while supplying no aid, staff or medicine to the planets that need it. Kriffing useless Empire. If only she could be a fly on the wall in the Mand’alor’s meetings. 

It’s her twelfth day in a row at the med center and the exhaustion has officially permeated every cell in her body. She sinks into the worn cushions with a deep sigh. If she could just close her eyes for a minute, just to catch up on a little rest, it will take the edge off her exhaustion. The med center has physician sleep rooms, but the beds are never as comfortable as she needs and the sound of doors slamming in the halls wakes her every few hours. Overhead code pages are happening almost every hour now, with patients actively dying in the emergency ward, on the floors, in the intensive care unit. The code team is being run ragged, even with rotating staff. 

She tries to get comfortable on the threadbare couch. Clearing her mind has been….difficult....the past few weeks. Despite her exhaustion, her mind races. Her last day off was almost two weeks ago, when Mij had sent her home, refusing to hear any sort of counter-argument, even though she knew he was sleeping at the hospital too. By now there is an almost endless stream of patients coming through the center. 

Not to mention her cycle is late. Very late. Really, she thinks, she should know better. But denial is a powerful thing, no matter how much knowledge you have. She needs to confront the facts. Just not right now, she thinks, as her eyes close.

She has been chalking her distraction up to the sudden appearance of the planetwide plague without a cure had occupied most of her free thoughts for the past few weeks. There seems to be no real rhyme or reason to who succumbed. By now the med center itself is so full that all hands were now taking care of pandemic victims - surgeries are canceled, and whole wards are blocked off for coughing, dying patients that even bacta can’t help. Plus she had all her house calls and deliveries. Babies waited for no pandemic.

Finally, her exhaustion wins out over her rushing thoughts and she drifts off to sleep.

*BEEEEEP BEEEEEP BEEEEEEEP* *BEEEEEP BEEEEEP BEEEEEEEP*

She wakes to the anxiety-inducing page tone coming from her commlink, ripping it off the waistband of her trousers and pressing the silence button.

<URGENT Rm 1379 Please come to bedside> 

Kriff

And then she hears the code page overhead. 

KRIFF. 

She’s up from the couch in a second and jogging through the med center, stiff achy limbs protesting every movement, though her exhaustion is temporarily forgotten.

Room 1379 is Maari. She is older, but not elderly. The past few days, Orla had been cautiously hopeful that she was on the mend. She’d stopped coughing up blood and even taken a few turns around the ward with the nurses. 

She and Maari had talked the day before about how excited she was to go back home. 

Ori reaches the room to find nurses and techs already working to resuscitate her. The woman is flat on the bed, back arching as she tries to drag a breath in through ravaged lungs. They’re scarred down and filling with blood - it’s what happens sometimes when patients relapse. Her team has seen it countless times by now.

Maari thrashes back and forth, desperate for air. The oxygen mask over her nose and mouth is coated with red, and her eyes roll around frantically. The rush of people is deceptive. To an outsider, this looks like chaos. In truth, it’s a well oiled machine. Each member has their role, and in the last few weeks they were all experts. Everyone in the room knows how this is going to go, but they try anyway. Even bacta nebulized through the mask can’t heal such damaged tissue. Mij turns up in the middle of the code with purple smudges under his eyes, looking even more ashen than usual. 

There’s not much they can do at this point. She has no pulse, no electrical activity keeping her heart beating in art sort of organized rhythm. The medic compressing her chest drips beads of sweat onto the plasteel bed frame as Ori orders another push of medication with no response. Her team has been doing resuscitation for over an hour without a response and the looks on their faces tell her it’s time to stop. 

Orla calls out time of death and the team debriefs. Maari is covered with a sheet and paperwork is started. Her family hasn’t been allowed to visit, and Ori prepares herself to make the call to her daughter. Propping herself against the wall outside the room to take a breath, she sees the transparisteel doors that lead to the outside, where two stormtroopers are laughing and jostling each other at their post.  

Stormtroopers ‘guard’ every business and government building now. The Empire taxes Mandalore’s imports and exports and blockades their space. Weeks of begging hadn’t convinced them to send aid. 

Something snaps in her when the aides wheel the body out of the room. Her exhaustion and frustration mixes into something ugly, curling in her belly and filling her with searing rage. If the Empire has decided to wipe her people out, she isn’t going to go down without a fight. 

“Hey!” she yells at the men by the door. The troopers straighten and tighten their grip on their blasters. The other staff around her must think she’s officially lost her wits. She must look horrifying because both white-armored men take a hesitant step back. 

“What the kriff are you laughing at? People are dying and you think this is funny?” She’s screaming now, her throat is straining with it. The two troopers aren’t shocked anymore. Now they’re angry, defensive, she can tell by their body language. She desperately wants to knock some sense into them, wants them to see her people’s suffering. But she’s still in her scrubs, and they’re in armor.

The trooper to her right grasps her upper arm. Ori is still so angry she barely feels the grip bite into the flesh. 

“You think you’re so fucking tough guarding a hospital full of sick people?” she snarls. Her twisted expression reflects back at her in the trooper’s visor. 

“Stand down, citizen.” 

The trooper on her right aims his blaster. The movement rips her out of her focus and she realizes that multiple people are watching on the ward. Mij has a hand behind his back, presumably on the blaster she knows he keeps hidden beneath his uniform. The stormtrooper’s helmet is still inches from her face and cool durasteel digs into her ribs. 

“I said stand. down.” His blaster shoves further into her side, pushing her back into his companion with his hand crushing her arm. How had she lost control like this. How kriffing stupid was she? Her breathing comes hard and harsh, and her stomach roils unexpectedly. 

The seconds go by slowly as she lifts her hands up in surrender. Saliva pools in her mouth and she swallows it back down, which she finds out is a giant mistake as everything she’s eaten today - a grand total of four crackers and some water - splatters onto the trooper’s feet. He jumps back, blaster forgotten.

“What the-“

The other trooper shoves her aside, disgusted, and she takes the opportunity to scurry through the med center doors, wiping her mouth on a sleeve. Somehow Mij Gilamar looks even more concerned then he did when a blaster was in her ribs. His brows knot together as she walks towards him, needing to brush of what just happened and get back to work. 

She’s almost to Mij as the room spins sideways and her vision goes black.

------

Kal watches Ori sleep. Somehow she looks so much smaller than the last time he’d seen her like this. Though the last time he’d seen her like this, she’d been naked in his bed where he could run his hands over her bare skin. Where she could make him forget every horrible thing he’s seen and done from Kuat to Kyrimorut. 

Her chest rises and falls slowly and he finds himself watching it to calm himself. She’d made quite the scene in front of two stormtroopers and Kal was sure they were going to haul her away to god knows where in retribution. Fortunately the one had been too preoccupied cleaning vomit off his plastoid to care.

The situation in the hospital in Keldabe was as close to any war zone that he’d ever been in and it was no wonder she’d worked herself to the bone. She was mandokarla. 

He’d been at the med center to talk strategy with Mij, who wasn’t able to leave the wards. Only he, Mij and his sons knew about the vaccine the Empire was keeping in secret. About the plans to cow the Mandalorians into giving them what they wanted. He hadn’t been trained to fight fair, it wasn’t their way. But this, this pandemic, was a whole new brand of dirty fighting. He’d spent a few hours in the medcenter so far and seen the absolute carnage. 

He has an enduring sort of affection for her that he can’t seem to shake. Mij tasked him with looking after her and he wasn’t about to tear himself away.

------

“You’re working yourself too hard, doc.” 

Her vision swims in and out, but there’s Kal, clear as day, sitting in a chair next to her bed and tapping at his commlink. Ori starts, not fully sure of where she is. 

“You’re still in the hospital,” he says gruffly, leaning towards her, “Tried to get you a bed but they’re all full. Wouldn’t let me take you back to Kyrimorut with me. So here we are.” 

She gains her bearings while he talks. Here is one of the unoccupied physician call rooms. 

“Not working too hard,” she rebuffs.

“Mij tells me you’ve been overdoing it.” Ori rolls her eyes at him. They’re falling into their usual routine. “You puked on a stormtrooper.”

He raises his eyebrows expectantly, demanding an explanation like she owes him one. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have one that she wants to offer to him. 

Next to her bed is the worn datapad that she charts on and she picks it up to check her chart. Ori feels herself blanch with him in front of her as she reads her diagnosis. Mij must have had them draw blood after she passed out, and it’s a little unnerving that she doesn’t remember it, though when she looks at her right arm she can see the red mark where the needle had been. In her other arm is an IV line. 

“Mij put me in charge of you until he gets back.” Kal looks incredibly pleased with himself, like they were playing a game and he had just won. He leans back in the wooden chair in the corner which creaks in protest.  As usual, he wears his golden armor, which shines dully in the low light of the call room. Ori can’t remember a time when she’s seen him out of it, except when they’ve been in bed together. The blood rushes back into her face at that thought.

“So what did they do?”

The memory reasserts itself painfully. Ori doesn’t even know how much time has passed since Maari died. Behind her eyes she sees it all again. 

At least she knows where she is. At least she didn’t wake up alone.

“I had a patient die...and I saw them out there laughing. I don’t know...I just lost it.” 

It isn’t a good reason, she knows that. She wonders if Kal can even make sense of her babbling, she wonders if the troopers will report her, if she’ll even have a job to return to tomorrow. Some of her hopes she doesn’t, just to get a bit of relief from the exhaustion. Part of her hopes she’s infected, is jealous of the people lying in their sickbeds being taken care of instead of run into the ground. 

But she’s not infected, she’s not even sick.

“Who died?”

“Maari Rook” 

He nods, keeping eye contact. Men like him don’t flinch away from death; she wonders how many have died at the point of his knife or blaster. It’s surprising how composed she is, barely a few hours after the fact. Kal must think she’s losing her wits. She’s sure he doesn’t miss the way her voice wobbles and she sniffs.

“What can I do to make it better?”

It’s hard for her to get the request out and she feels weak for even asking. After all, they don’t know each other that well and she had no right asking. 

“Can you just…” she says softly, still a little embarrassed from her outburst earlier, “lie down with me?”

He freezes, obviously not expecting this type of request. The ice in his blue eyes softens and a smile tugs at a corner of his lips. He looks almost boyish - she wasn’t expecting him to look so pleased. The armor comes off, chest piece first, then arms and gauntlets, thigh pieces next...and she must have dozed off because her face is pressed up against a warm chest and his arm is wrapped around her, the other stretching over his head to snake under the pillow. 

“Mij is giving you a few days off,” he murmurs, warm breath tickling her ear. She hums in reply, inhaling deeply, trying to memorize the hint of cedar she can smell from the mountains around Kyrimorut that has percolated into his clothes. His body heat seeps into her bones as she snuggles closer; her hands twine in the fabric of his tunic. A large hand strokes through her tangled hair. Right now she wants to forget about the world outside and just sink into the warmth and safety surrounding her.

“One of my boys thinks the Imperials has a vaccine here on-planet,” he continues as his chin rests atop her head, “this’ll be over soon. Just be patient.”

But she can’t be patient. 

Kal leaves her an hour or so later, assuming she’s fast asleep. Ori keeps her breathing deep and slow until she’s sure he’s gone. All she can think about is the possibility of a vaccine. Certainly, she’s had the thought before, since they weren’t seeing any troopers come down with the illness. The audacity of keeping vaccine on-world  wasn’t something she’d considered the Empire bold enough to do. 

The guards in front of the gleaming new garrison let her through without a fight. She tells the front desk her name and her complaint. Ori hopes they’ll let her talk to someone with any sort of importance or rank, if she can make somehow them see reason. 

The bored-looking secretary beside the durasteel door looks her up and down, obviously unimipressed by her simple work uniform and disheveled hair. Strands are falling out of her bun and tickling her neck and she reaches her hands up to nervously smooth them back. She can’t remember the last day she washed it.

The secretary buzzes them into the room with nary a word and Ori follows the troopers’ lead into the office. The two stormtroopers who had escorted her into the office are silent by her side when the officer finally enters the room. The shining surface of the pure white plastoid keeps them separate, impersonal. 

Behind a severe durasteel desk sits a man in a grey officer’s uniform. She wonders if it looks much different from the Republic officer uniforms - Mandalore had been removed enough from the conflict of the Clone Wars that she’d never even seen a Republic officer. Before the events of the last few months, there was hardly anything that made two regimes distinct. He’s certainly not a clone. From the few officers she’s noticed around Keldabe, this Empire seems to favor humans more than any other species, and at least from the groups of troopers she’s seen occupying Keldabe most are men. He rises, extending a hand for her to shake. 

“Dr. Beviin,” he says smoothly, “it’s a pleasure.” The polished Core accent fits his persona, with his slick shiny hair and boots to match. His face is clean-shaven, with the plump look of a young man, unscarred. This was some politician’s favored son, no doubt, tasked with bringing Mandalore to its knees. Anger threatens to rise again, but she tempers it before it can best her again. She has a goal here. 

“Likewise,” she replies. He gestures to the seat in front of his desk and she takes it. Her stormtrooper escort settles at the back of the room. 

“I’m Corporal Hadley. How can I help you?”

“Corporal, as you know there’s a virus tearing its way across the planet.”

“Ah yes, I’m aware.” 

“If you’re going to occupy a planet, you have a duty to its citizens.” She keeps her voice and manner neutral, trying to be as diplomatic as possible, though her anger and frustration are slowly rising. She hasn’t slept, and it always makes her testier than usual. 

“The Empire takes care of its own first. Once your people prove their loyalty, then we will provide a vaccine. I don’t understand why you think your people will get anything for free.” 

She decides to pull out the trump card.

“I know you have it here. I demand you distribute it as soon as possible.” 

“Or what, Doctor Beviin?”

She is silent at this, for she has no reply. There’s nothing she can threaten them with except knowledge and they know it. It dawns on her then how stupid she is, how she hadn’t told anyone where she was going. Not even Kal.

“The Mand’alor will -”

“The Mand’alor won’t do anything. There’s nothing he’s willing to barter with that the Empire needs that badly.”

The unnamed officer jerks his head at one of the troopers, so quickly she almost misses it, until she hears the crack of a rifle butt against her own face and pain lances through her cheekbone. The strength and shock of the blow is enough that she falls to her knees, watching her own blood patter onto the duracrete floor. Her cheekbone is broken, she’s almost sure of it as she reaches a shaky hand up to her face and feels it crushed inwards. Her fingers come away covered in blood.

“You hutuune,” Ori hisses, “Cowards.”

“Shut up,” one of the troopers mutters, pushing her to the floor for good measure, grabbing her comm out of her pocket and crushes it under his foot. The other pipes up as the officer watches. 

“You know they say you’re supposed to rub their nose in it.” 

A boot presses between her shoulder blades and grinds her harder into the floor, forcing the air out of her lungs, duracrete scratching painfully against her broken cheekbone. Tears spring to her eyes and she can’t hold them in, ashamed at how stupid she’d been to believe she could negotiate with Imperials. Desperation had blinded her. 

“I thought Mandos were supposed to fight back? That’s what the briefing said.”

Ori doesn’t dignify his comment with a response. Not everyone fights with fists. It was something she had struggled with her whole life, though now was a rare exception where she wished she could take on three men and win. 

The boot nudges at her again and she tries to flatten herself against the ground instead of instinctively curling inwards or using her hands to give away what she is desperately trying to protect. She prays they don’t take the beating further. 

“Doctor Beviin, you’re under arrest for treason and assault of an Imperial officer,” says the grey-suited captain, with a tone so bored that he could have been ordering tea instead of standing over a woman his soldiers had just brutalized. 

Bruising fingers attach themselves to her upper arms and haul her to her feet. The troopers march her out of the room as she tries to keep up, blood still trickling down her face and onto the collar of her work uniform. She can’t reach up and wipe it off.

Taglist:

@leias-left-hair-bun @nelba @cherry-cokes-world @clonewarslover55 @passionofthesith @808tsuika @wolfangelwings @the-arctic-violet

[anarcho-smarmyism]

open letter to fenrir wolf: plague edition

Wolf, if you can hear this, it’s 2021, and it’s a plague this time around. my first letter was supposed to be an offering, not a goddamn invitation.

I remember the weekend before quarantine began, dancing (badly) with my Freyan friend at a pub last saint patrick’s day, the band joking about the elephant in the room, saying that everything was fine, they were all the way up on the stage, they wouldn’t get anyone sick. I had been thinking about the previous saint patrick’s day, but even then, even through my drunken haze and bitter memories, I thought I could hear a note of desperation in the singer’s voice; I remember the tremble of quiet dread. I told myself to stop being paranoid. everything’s always a false alarm, until one day it isn’t. this saint patrick’s day, against my better judgement, I went to a bar alone because I’d just bought a red dress, and honestly, because I needed to be away from my in-law’s house for a little while longer. I sat down and took off my mask once I’d entered one of the few places you’re allowed to irresponsibly have your mask off in, and it feels weirdly intimate to let people see my face in public by now; back when all I had was a black bandanna, I used to pretend I was an Old West outlaw, and wonder if I’ll ever grow out of pretending to be a cowboy from the movies…or if I I’d have the opportunity to. I had a couple beers, wondered for a few stupid moments why everyone was wearing green and shamrocks, and made idle small talk with the bartender while I stared blankly ahead and wondered how it could be a whole year, and also how it could be only one year, and how it is that all the world’s people let the rich and powerful shovel us by the millions into our graves.

when it started, they told us not to buy masks. everyone was panic buying everything else, and they wanted to make sure they didn’t run out for hospital workers and such. i was able to get some bandanas for me and Tyr’s kid before they ran out, while the TV was still discouraging us from buying them if they mentioned it at all, not to mention the current president’s rabid followers screaming at you in public for defying their leader’s lies that the virus is a hoax and the mass graves in italy and new york are fake news. he rolled his eyes at me at the time, but now the party line is that everyone ought to be wearing two masks if you can. no one seems to remember stuff like this; but then why should they, when the news is showing the last head of state’s supporters storming the capitol? panic buttons had been ripped out; someone refused to call the national guard over and over again, while the racist mob built a noose outside, breached the perimeter, and went looking for politicians to kill because they weren’t going to let their god-emperor stay in power. for aspiring revolutionaries, i must say they weren’t very ambitious; they killed a cop and got shot just to do nothing but take selfies once they got in and found no one inside to kill; they even walked obediently in line between the little velvet ropes on their way in. the only saving grace is that, since their god-emperor has spent 8 months telling them anyone who wears a mask is a pussy and a communist, they all left their hoods at home and many were identified. reports of off-duty cops being among the attackers trailed in. I worked customer service for 9 hours wondering if I was wasting precious time I’d need to look into getting a passport.

it almost worked, Wolf. Just like the nukes almost flew in the 80’s and the climate change is almost certainly going to reach the point of no return within a decade. how many almosts do we have left? Will we keep going from reckoning to reckoning of our own design, playing chicken with nature instead of trying to throw off these shackles and just live, until one day our luck runs out? I suppose that always was the plan on some scale, but I hoped we’d at least get to walk on another planet first. How can this be the end of history, with that great ineffable blanket of stars above us that we haven’t yet explored?

It was only a month or so ago that a blizzard hit Texas -not just where I used to live, where blizzards are rare but fierce and we build our houses to withstand them, but deeper south where a light dusting would make local news for weeks. the strain was too much for the grid; the politicians had made sure the state’s not connected to the rest of the nation’s infrastructure, so entire cities lost power…the poor parts of the cities, anyways. people were circulating infographics on how to resist hypothermia along with pictures of icicles forming on ceilings of their apartment buildings. then the stories started pouring in. children found huddled in their trailers around their younger siblings to try and keep them warm, dead of hypothermia. old ladies’ frozen bodies found by family who’d seen her alive and well mere days ago. families trapped in their houses, built to stay cool in the brutal desert heat, buried by the snow and unable to eat, stay warm, dig their way out, or call for help. some politician lost his job for telling people to stop asking for help because “the strong will survive”. the masters of our world, the ones that stand smugly guarding the gateways from this world to a better one and slaughtering all who approach, really think that surviving because you’re rich and powerful, because you struggle so little that life itself is something you take for granted, is the same thing as survival of the fittest. i saw my peers laughing and saying Texans deserved it for voting the wrong way, and I think something broke inside me, because when that rage erupted from that ugly hidden place that is always burning my hands shook and I wanted to howl until my throat started to bleed and I could’ve summoned you with all the hate that came over me, and who’s to say I didn’t, the way things are going? and this is the new normal, for the rest of my life if not for the rest of our species’. we are guaranteed so little time, and yet we throw it over our shoulders with both hands so we can make the numbers on our ATM screen go up. i feel like i would do anything to guarantee the survival of my species, but I can’t deny some part of me believes we deserve this.

because if this is really it, Wolf, people will blame you, but we are the ones who built this world. I wont bore you with more politics, but the scientists knew how to prevent the worst of it from day one. all we had to do was shut down industry for a few months -and oh, how I remember thinking I could almost hear you laughing as I watched them talk about it on TV as though they might actually try and save us, knowing deep in my bones that the movers and shakers of our species consider it no contest at all, between sacrificing billions in profits and millions of lives. they may be lying bastards, but their devotion to greed is as eternal and sincere as was your promise to make the ones who bound you pay -and they have no qualms about paying the same abominable price. My anger is making me reckless, and I know it, and I know that they always say you shouldn’t bite the hand that feeds you -and maybe it’s true, but it’s also true that they’re only feeding us at all because they know hungry people may swallow them whole. how can I blame the plague or the storms or the riots for our doom, when the extent of the death they’re causing are only the consequences of human actions? how can I hold my livid need to get back at the bastards with my duty to my own humanity in the same body, when they crash against each other like two asteroids headed in opposite directions?

we just heard that vaccines are available in our state, right when I was halfway through writing this. I’m sure it’ll be weeks until we can breathe without fear, Wolf, and even then, the storms and the riots, the coming famines and wars, means that reprieve will be small and bitter and filled with irony and dread. I’ll be sure to give you some raw meat and take a shot of that godawful whiskey so you can laugh at the face I make. sometimes I wonder if you’d be on my side, help me and my friends break their haughty power, reclaim the world, and start rebuilding the forests we squandered in our ignorance and greed, were you given the opportunity. I’d like to think so, and it seems like the kind of thing you’d be into -but then, we’ll never know, will we? Despite all I’ve said, I still hold out stubborn faith that one day humanity will learn that so long as one of us is imprisoned, none of us are truly free. We're not like you, so you'll have to take my word for it: humans need mercy like wolves need to hunt. Just because we can technically stay alive in these chains that force us to forget that the humans' only true strength was always only their cooperation with each other, doesn't mean it's good for us to live this way. If we can learn that we are strong enough if we stand together, we can take them down before they take us and countless other species down with them. People have been certain the world would end before; and they’ve all been wrong so far. perhaps it’ll take more than this to kill us.

-but that’s the thing, isn’t it? more is coming. it always has been.

But I really, really want to thank you for dancing 'til the end You found a way to break out You're not afraid to break out

[todoshotoki]

𝙋𝘼𝙄𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂: bakugou katsuki x reader

𝙏𝙍𝙄𝙂𝙂𝙀𝙍 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂: depression, self-loathing, unrequited love

𝘼𝙐𝙏𝙃𝙊𝙍'𝙎 𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀: i found about this song recently and i’ve never cried to a song so much before because it just awoke some past experiences ??

thanks for 100 followers :)

...

i still remember, third of december

it was a cold evening as you were heading back home from ua highschool. you had left your sweater back at home and you were hugging your arms around yourself. your teeth were chattering as you speed-walked to your bus stop.

you bundled yourself up on the bench, rubbing your hands up and down your arms in effort to create heat. you plugged in your earbuds, listening to the quiet acoustics while looking at the people passing by (all correctly equipped with warm, thick clothing).

“oi!” you jolted as you felt your left earbud being snatched out of your ear and being promptly yelled at afterward. you met the blonde’s crimson eyes next to you while slightly dazed. “don’t fucking ignore me!”

me in your sweater

“here, you were shaking like a lost dog,” he shoved a sweater in your lap and turned to look toward his phone once again. “huh?” you were about to protest but he shot you down quickly, “i have my own plus i don’t want you to think that i had some sort of favor to return after training this morning.”

you said it looked better, on me, than it did you

you gawked a little at the red and black sweater before nodding and thanking him. you slipped the material over your uniform which fit you a little on the bigger side. “don’t thank me and don’t bother returning it... it looks better on you anyway.” he grunts, getting up to go on the bus as it rolled up to the curb.

it smelled like him – like caramel. your heart did summersaults in your chest as you wondered how it would feel to be held by him or even to be his special someone. you stepped onto the bus shortly after him, peeking a bit at him as you passed by to your seat by the window.

only if you knew, how much i liked you

you seemed to adore him after he had that exchange with him. everything made sense, you deemed him a “tsundere” and began to watch his mannerisms and slowly but surely fall further into fascination. you didn’t notice yourself doing until the signs were waving in your face.

there was no way to reverse it, it was a blooming infatuation that was spreading from your chest to the smallest nooks and crannies of your very body. your hands started to become sweaty, your face flared up, your knees buckled. it was an anxiety you had never seen before.

but I watch your eyes, as he walks by, what a sight for sore eyes

“bakugo,” you had your hands behind your back and your feet rocking back and forth as an anxious tendacy, “do you want to come with me and a few friends to a movie on sunday?” he hadn’t even gone as far as to spare a glance at you, “no,”

you slightly frowned, “okay, tell me if you change your mind,” you turned back to your chair and to say you were bummed out was an understatement. that’s when you the class’s sunshine had walked into the room, “hey bakubro!” the redhead made a beeline for his desk and bakugo promptly looked up at the boy in annoyance, “what do you want, shitty hair?!”

“we still on for sunday?” kirishima places his hands on the blonde’s desk leaning in with his toothy grin. “yeah, yeah, don’t ask me again or you can forget about it!” your frown deepened. kirishima had beat you to it.

it only made sense. he was a happy virus. you pursed your lips ceasing your eavesdropping and burried your head into your desk.

brighter than a blue sky, he's got you mesmerized while i die

this wasn’t the last time you had tried to hang out with bakugo. two out of five attempts had succeeded. the lastet one was with the whole class involved. momo was holding a get together for christmas before the holidays had started.

you had decided to dress to impress. bakugo clearly has standards and you need to meet them. you went out of your way to wear eyeliner, blush, and the whole extra mile. when you had arrived, it was mainly the early birds who had arrived. uraraka, midoriya, todoroki, kirishima, and iida has been there when you had arrived.

you had received compliments from all parties. “wow, you look really nice tonight! i wish i had done something like you and everyone else, i just came in an ugly sweater and old pants.” kirishima scratched his neck sheepishly.

“kaachan, you came!” midoriya’s outburst had shifted your gaze toward the door. he was wearing essentially the same thing that kirishima was wearing. he looks your direction.

he’s looking your direction! maybe you had finally-

“you’re wearing the sweater i gave you,” his words had cut you out of your thoughts as he walked beside kirishima. “oh-! this was your’s? i-i had been wondering where i got this from...” kirishima stammered. you had defaulted to escape the scene before you became more sad than you already had become.

as the party carried on, you couldn’t stop thinking about it, “he was wearing his sweater,” you thought, pouring yourself a drink. you hadn’t noticed the blonde slipping right beside you until a few whistles and snickering were heard. “hey, what’re you guys laughing about?!” bakugo had snapped.

“look up, blasty!” ashido says which you both reluctantly do.

a mistletoe was looming over your heads. you could feel your ears turn red as you realized the whole class was looking at you.

“bakugo, we don’t have to if you don’t want-“

why would you ever kiss me? i’m not even half, as pretty

he cut your sentence off with his lips on your’s. you had almost dropped the solo cup in your hand at the sweet taste of his chapstick. the hint of caramel you smelled as you two were so close, you felt so incredibly warm and longed for the kiss to last longer.

as you parted, you tried to stutter out a sentence but only mumbling left your lips. “that’s so cute!” you could hear hagakure squealing from the audience that had accumulated.

you didn’t feel happy about it. the stupid branch had grabbed more attention than you yourself as a person.

you gave him your sweater, it’s just polyester, but you like him better

you had gone home early that night. you claimed that you were tired and hadn’t planned to stay long anyways.

you sat in your bed with silent tears dribbling down your cheeks. the sweater that you had been given by bakugo was clenched betweeen your cold fingers. it had lost it’s smell- the smell of bakugo.

wish i were heather

you had dyed your naturally black hair to blonde by the time you got back from the holidays. you had kept the same winged eyeliner to help with your looks and hopefully show some type of attention.

you waited for bakugo to come in that morning. you had came early and as the students began to trickle in. you heard some cheering. you looked up from your book to your heart shattering.

watch as he stands with, him holding your hand

they were clearly dating. kirishima has acted as a docking station for the blonde who was more shy to the attention they were getting. the two of them had no objection to the dating rumors and confirmed them even. he had his hand in his. you knew bakugo was bisexual, you had a chance...

put your arm 'round his shoulder, now i’m getting colder

you had huddled up in your blankets and stared at the photo that bakugo had just posted on his instagram.

they were at a diner together, a smug smile on his face as he looked at his giddy boyfriend who was equally as happy to be with him. the caption: “eyes on the prize”.

you felt the tears bubble up again and you wiped your snot and tears with the same sweater that he had given you.

but how could i hate him? he’s such an angel

“(l/n)!” kirishima had entered the classroom that morning. you had your head down on the desk due to your restlessness last night. you peaked up at him, squinting at the bright light that had been shining through the windows. he had a candy bar in his hand and placed it right in front of you. “you look a little down today... you can talk to me if you want to.”

you pick up the candy bar, sitting up straight. “thank you, kiri. i really appreciate it.” you smile, trying your best to fake the lift in your eyes. “no problem,” he says and sits in his respective seat.

no matter how much you wanted to scream at him and ask him why he had ruined your life, you couldn’t do so he was the sunshine of the class after all.

but then again, kinda, wish he were dead, as he walks by

“hey, (l/n), it’s been a while. do you want to go to the new ramen shop that opened near your house?” kirishima asks as you were leaving together with bakugo on the other side of him. you shook your head, “no thanks,” not even an excuse out of you before you left his sight.

you hated him so much. how could someone just look at you like that? he knew how you looked at bakugo. i mean- he didn’t necessarily know that you had feelings but shit... the blatant gaze of pure adoration should’ve been a hint.

what a sight for sore eyes, brighter than a blue sky

the whole new dorm system had made everything so much worse for you. before, you could run home and forget about it by drowning yourself in whatever distraction you sought fit but now they were constantly around you.

he’s got you mesmerized while i die

the pda (mostly initiated by kirishima) had been accepted the whole class as a normal thing so if you were to say anything, you would definitely stick out. this resulted in you locking your bedroom door and not giving anyone a chance to interact with you outside of school. you began skipping out on events like going to the beach and instead stood in front of the mirror picking at the fat that was gathered up at your stomach.

why would you ever kiss me?

you wish these feelings would just rot. you wish it would just wither away. you wanted to run away, you wanted to give up, you wanted to just tell him.

“bakugou, i love you! i’ve loved you for months!”

you would cry but instead you were practicing in the mirror. your puffy eyes and bloated face making your heart drop. who were you kidding.

i’m not even half, as pretty

“(l/n),” bakugou had knocked on your door one day. your room was a mess: clothes scattered on the ground, textbooks thrown aside, random pens and food wrappers cluttering your desk. you almost wish you could jump off the balcony and take off to never see heights alliance again.

“what is it?” you call to the door after clearing your throat, listening closely waiting for him to say “i know you like me just stop stalking me”.

“do you happen to... have that sweater i gave you a few months back?”

you gave him your sweater

after that statement, jumping out the balcony seemed 1000x more appealing.

“yeah, um- hold on,” you got up from your bed and frowned at the sweater hanging on your desk chair. it had lost bakugou’s smell weeks ago but the fact that bakugou gave it to you never failed to make you smile.

you crack open the door and hand it to him through the slit. you didn’t want him seeing your room as it was right now.

you felt the fabric leave your fingertips. “thanks,” and with that he was off.

it’s just polyester, but you like him better

you desperately try to push the tears back into your eyes, denying the fact that you were crying over someone so stupid.

“you’re not crying! it’s just fabric! it’s just polyester!” your bottom lip trembled as you try to recompose yourself. your coping mechanism was gone.

i wish i were heather

“i wish i were kirishima,” the words had met your lips subconsciously. you clamped your hand over your mouth instantly regretting it. it was no secret you had been paying attention to kirishima in the past few weeks. he was everything bakugou could ever want.

he was brave, strong, and he dared to even go save bakugou from the league. without kirishima’s outstretched hand, bakugou might be in a different situation.

you had to tell bakugou. maybe the feelings would fade.

wish i were heather

today was the day. you had texted bakugou to meet you outside of the heights alliance gates at 6:30 that evening.

you were trembling. it was so obvious. it was a confession. bakugou probably had better things to do then stay around you. you gulped as you saw the blonde tuft of hair round the corner.

wish i were heather

“so why did you ask me to meet you here? i swear if this is a waste of my time...”

you hadn’t noticed how long you had just been staring into his eyes. you averted your eyes to the ground. the bubbling sensation of your throat cramping up, caused you to clear it with a thump to your chest.

you grew angry as you tried to choke it out of your throat.

“why would you ever kiss me?” you ball your fists and pursing your lips. bakugou’s eyes dilated, not knowing what to say, “what are you talking about-“

“that night! at the christmas party! couldn’t you see? i-“ you pause to wipe a tear from your eye. you shake your head, twisting up your face in a scowl, “i’m not even half as pretty any one else so why?!”

“half as pretty as who-?”

“you’re a real dumbass, y’know? for someone who gets high grades. you’re really fucking clueless.”

“i didn’t come here to get yelled at by some extra, okay?! if you have something to say that isn’t an insult then spit out.” he pulled at his shirt incredibly uncomfortable.

“you gave him your sweater that’s why you took it back to the other day, huh?” you said. “you’re getting worked up over that? it’s just polyester.”

there was nothing but your hitching and crying after he said that. he clicked his tongue and shook his head. “i’m leaving,” he turned away and you watched him walk away.

“but you like him better, wish i were...”

[fanficflaneuse]

One Day - Part 5

A/N: Hello magical tumblr friends! I hope you’re all doing alright. So...we’ve reached the middle of this series! I can’t believe I work four chapters in a week. Goodness! I feel on fire right now. I hope you like it. What’s about to come is just plain, simple, absolute drama. 

For this chapter, I drew a bit of inspiration of a series called The Arrangement by @fandomsfeelsandfanfics. It’s not plagiarism or anything, but I did have it in mind as I wrote. All of this to say you should check it out if you haven’t, it’s an amazing series and I’m waiting for an update lol. 

Finally, thanks for all your love and support

Here we go: 

Draco x reader (she/her pronouns) Word count: 2607 (oops...I did it again! (lol) I’m sorry it’s so long. I think this will be the longest chapter of the series).  Summary: One day AU. Post-war. Since The Battle of Hogwarts, Draco and y/n meet one day a year.

Masterlist 

3 May, 2002

“(Y/N), you cannot lock yourself in your library forever.”

“That’s rich coming from you, Hermione,” she said, her voice hoarse.

The brown-haired Gryffindor rolled her eyes, trying to be playful, but there was a hint of concern she couldn’t hide. (Y/N) had been working nonstop. Headmistress McGonagall had offered her a position at Hogwarts. Without a second thought, she quitted at the Ministry and now spent a lot of time in her library, revising every book on DADA and making her best to create a study plan that was challenging and fun. She was also writing again. (Y/N) felt her life was heading in an interesting direction.

“Listen, (Y/N/N), I love you. We all do,” Ginny said as she dragged (Y/N) to her room, Hermione trailing behind them, “And we support every single one of your choices. But you cannot keep waiting for Malfoy to appear at your doorway and magically revive what you had.”

“Besides, he’s bad news, (Y/N). You’ve seen what they write about him in the papers. Not someone a respectable Hogwarts professor, like yourself, should be associated with,” Hermione pointed out, using what they now called her ‘ministry voice’.

“He is a good –“

“We know, we know, love. We know he can be a good person. He is – or was? – our friend as well. Not as close as he was to you,” Ginny raised an eyebrow playfully at this, warranting an annoyed eyeroll from (Y/N), “But we did help save him from Azkaban, didn’t we? So yes, we know he can actually be a good person. You just can’t go around saving him forever, dear. Don’t you realize most of his friends have stopped talking to him because of his behaviour? Merlin! Even Parkinson and Zabini are friendlier to us now than he is.”

“He’s chosen a path, (Y/N/N). He’s not trying to change. And even if he was, he’s not here. It’s time for you to move on,” Hermione reasoned.

(Y/N) sighed. She missed Draco way too much. Sometimes she wondered if he missed her. He hadn’t contacted her in a while. No owls, no visits, no cuddles. It had started out small, a bit of extra drinking during the week, an increasing amount of partying. Then every time she saw him, Draco was nursing a drink. Then the visits started to spread out. He’d always have a party to attend, an invitation somewhere and some sort of alcohol running in his veins. His letters stopped coming shortly after. As she got busier, (Y/N) ceased reaching out for him, tired of his excuses and self-destructive behaviours. She started mourning their friendship and her love for him.

At that point, the infamous articles were already a thing. Draco’s drunken antics had warranted him the moniker of “enfant terrible” and his misadventures were fuel for Rita Skeeter’s sensationalist quill. He always made the front page for the worst of reasons. Everyone had tried to talk some sense into him, to no avail.

“I can’t move on from something that never happened,” she declared in defeat.

“Well, more reasons for you to put this gorgeous dress on and enjoy your date with Ernie,” Ginny pressed on as she threw a blue dress over her shoulder.

“We’ll be waiting for your every detail,” Hermione added as she started working on your hair.

Ernie McMillan asked (Y/N) out at least five times before she accepted. In the end, she did because of her friends’ insistence. Everyone agreed she needed to go out. (Y/N) hadn’t been on a date for such a long time, even she admitted to herself the idea sounded tempting. She wasn’t particularly attracted to Ernie (she wasn’t particularly attracted to anyone whose name wasn’t Draco Malfoy), but she found him very sweet and patient. As the day approached, (Y/N) was getting excited about it.

Then, just the day before her date, she was invited for tea at Malfoy Manor. The affair had been so nerve-wrecking that (Y/N) came back home and cried her eyes out. She spent all night in her library, curled up in a ball. That’s where Ginny and Hermione found her. She had puffy eyes and seemed tired. They didn’t need to think too hard to guess what was the reason for her sorrow. It had been the same for a couple of months now. That’s what made them push harder for her to go out.

As Ginny helped her with her makeup, (Y/N) could only think about her visit to Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. The only time she had been in their lavish mansion, she had been tortured and put in a cellar with her friends. As she stood in front of the gates, she felt her hands clammy and her whole body shaking. Every fibre of her being was begging her to turn around and run. She felt the tentacles of her fear and trauma engulfing her again, trying to drag her down, reduce her to tears and panic.

“Are you alright?” said a voice she’d recognize anywhere: Lucius Malfoy himself had come to greet her. She saw a lot of Draco in his father. The striking grey eyes were almost too painful to look at.  Lucius’ eyes didn’t hold for her the same affection Draco’s did, but she could recognize a mixture of respect and also a bit of fear. Was he afraid of her? Or was that concern? Did she look that frightened?

“Yes, sir. I was just…”

“Remembering?” he offered, an apologetic expression settling on his aristocratic features.

(Y/N) nodded in response. She tried to smile at him.

“I am glad you could come, Miss (Y/L/N). My wife and I have not had the pleasure of your company since the trials. We never got the chance to thank you for everything you did for us,” he said, motioning her to walk with him.

They strolled through some beautiful gardens. The flowers were blooming and the peacocks showed their beautiful feathers. As they entered the house, (Y/N) felt shivers down her spine. She had to stop for a second and take a deep breath. Lucius waited for her patiently. The walked up the stairs and move through different halls.

“We well be having tea at our living quarters. Narcissa is recovering from that hippogriff virus. Fortunately, it is under control, but my wife is still very delicate and needs her rest,” he explained as he opened the door to the room.

Narcissa Malfoy greeted them. She was seating up on the bed, her back pressed to a mountain of fluffy pillows. She wore an embroidered nightgown and her silky bedspread covered her up to her waist. She was a vision; even in the comfort of her bed, Narcissa looked like a queen. Her whole demeanour, even her seemingly informal attire, made (Y/N) feel underdressed.

As soon as (Y/N) was close to the bed, Narcissa grabbed both of her hands affectionately. It took (Y/N) less than five minutes in front of that majestic woman to decide that even if Draco was physically a copy of Lucius, everything else was absolutely Narcissa: his mannerisms, his smile, his way with words.

“I am so happy to see you, (Y/N),” she said, offering her a smile so wide that reminded her of Draco.

As Lucius brought her a chair and left to fetch the tea, (Y/N) felt really out of place. It was not only the looming idea that she was intruding, but also the way in which such domesticity seemed so strange to her. Draco had told her about his life growing up, how he had a seemingly happy childhood, even if his parents were – to an extent – emotionally distant. The Manor was huge for him alone, but his parents dotted on him and cared for him. (Y/N) imagined that this scene, three people sitting close by in the middle of a huge room, was a constant in Draco’s childhood.

As minutes went by and both women engaged in small talk, (Y/N) let go the idea that Draco would barge through the door at any moment. She then concentrated in her current situation, trying to figure out why would they, of all people, invite her over for tea. Narcissa noticed this and pursed her lips.

“I am going to be direct with you, (Y/N). I know it must be very strange, our invitation, I mean. I do wish we had done it sooner, for I have a lot to thank you. The matter at hand, though, is not a joyous one,” she explained, carefully, “we are very worried for our son”.

(Y/N) gulped. She was about to respond when Lucius came back, balancing three cups and a teapot. As he made his way to them. He served the three cups with effortless elegance.

“I hope you like jasmine tea, Miss (Y/L/N) ,” he said as he offered her a cup.

“Yes, it is excellent,” she answered, trying to adopt a posher inflection in her voice.

Lucius and Narcissa shared a meaningful look. “I was just telling (Y/N) how we are worried about Draco,” she explained, almost as a though it was a nuisance.

“Worried?” Lucius scoffed dramatically, “I am not worried. If anything, I am mad and disappointed. He is tarnishing the family name with his stupidity.”

“He is worried,” Narcissa decided. Lucius sighed and nodded in response.

They talked for a while about how he had gotten into drinking. It had started with a glass of firewhiskey every other day, then he was drinking every night, going to bars and partying until very odd hours. The conversation flowed between Narcissa and (Y/N), with Lucius adding his somewhat scathing remarks. They talked about the articles in the Daily Prophet and the stupid moniker.

“I have not talked to him in a long time, Mrs. And Mr. Malfoy,” she said at some point. Her vision got a bit blurry with tears, but she was determined not to cry in front of them. She tried to blink them away to no avail. She looked away. Lucius took her cup from her trembling hands and Narcissa enveloped her in a hug. (Y/N) started crying on her shoulder.

“I wish there was something I could do. I tried. I really tried,” she sobbed.

(Y/N) felt really stupid for how she was behaving. But both Narcissa and Lucius were surprisingly nice about it.

“Dear, we did not invite you here to ask you to do something. We know if anyone has tried to help our son, it has been you. I was really sick, you know? As a matter of fact, I almost died. If you ever get that hippogriff virus, please do take it seriously. When I was delirious, only two things truly worried me, (Y/N): one was leaving Lucius behind and the other one was Draco. My son’s life is an utter chaos as it is. And I know my husband and I have a very big responsibility and a lot of blame for his bad decisions, but I also know the kind of person I gave birth to. And he is a good person. I know you saw something in him. Something good. And as I started getting a little better, my heart was suddenly set on one thing. I needed to know you. I needed to know that someone out there genuinely cares for my son and sees him for who he is, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) felt her heart heavy with longing. She took Narcissa’s hands. “I love your son,” she said and immediately felt her face getting hot, “a –as a friend, I mean. It’s no secret we haven’t talked much in the last year…but I still care for him. I think I will always care for him.”

Narcissa squeezed her hands and smiled at her. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

As Lucius was escorting (Y/N) out of the manor, they bumped into Draco himself. He could barely stand on his own. He reeked of alcohol. His eyes were glossy and an easy smile was set on his face. Lucius frowned. The sight, however, broke (Y/N)’s heart.

“Hellooooo, father,” he slurred.

“Draco, where were you?” Lucius countered, trying to be as patient as possible.

“Around,” Draco said.

“You have been around for three days now. Your mother was very worried.”

(Y/N) winced. Draco took notice of her. At first, he didn’t recognize her (or maybe he didn’t want to recognize her), once he was sure it was her, he tried to stand up a little straighter. He gave her what he thought was a charming smile, but his mind was so hazy it was actually pitiful.

“Hello, Dray,” (Y/N) whispered, trying to keep her emotions in check. As she said this, though, Draco lunged forward clumsily and gave her a hug that felt almost like he was slumping onto her. (Y/N) held him in place, almost collapsing under his weight.

“I’ve missed you so so so so so so so so so much, (Y/N/N). I promise I’ll write more. I miss you,” he said, covering her face with kisses. His breath also stank of alcohol. Although his words were a consolation, his deplorable state made her very sad.

“Behave, boy. I thought I had raised you better,” said Lucius in annoyance.

He grabbed Draco by his shirt and pushed him away from (Y/N). Uncoordinated as he was, he fell on his bum. He searched for (Y/N)’s face, teary eyed. As they made eye contact, (Y/N) was reminded of a very small child. She wanted to cradle him in her arms again and reassure him that everything was going to be alright. (Y/N) knew that wasn’t the best idea. Her thoughts were echoed by Lucius, who, as kindly as possible, asked her to leave.

(Y/N) kneeled in front of Draco, who looked at her with a bit of sorrow and a great deal of confusion. She kissed his cheek and he smiled.

“Take care, Draco,” she said very softly.

Just thinking about that now, as Ginny blended her eyeshadow, gave her enough reasons to want to apparate in Malfoy Manor. She knew her friends were right; she couldn’t save Draco forever. She couldn’t change him either.

As Hermione and Ginny pushed her in front of her mirror, (Y/N)’s heart was shattered. She looked beautiful. The dress fit perfectly. Her makeup was incredible and her hair was twisted in a delicate braid. Somehow, even like that, she felt like hiding herself under her bedspread. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her doorbell.

Ernie had arrived.

…

“I can’t believe I’m going out with a published author,” Ernie said with a cheeky smile. 

“Oh, it’s just a couple of short stories in The Hogsmeade Review. It’s not a big deal,” she answered before taking a sip of her wine.

“The Hogsmeade Review is a big deal, (Y/N/N),” he countered, “it’s where most big shot writers started. I believe Newt Scammander published his first essays there as well. Can you imagine your novels becoming standard Hogwarts readings?”

Ernie had a very articulated opinion on everything. At times during the date, (Y/N) would let him talk and talk and talk, until he seemed to exhaust his information on whatever they were now discussing. Did it bore her? To infinity and beyond. She couldn’t deny, though, that his enthusiasm was a bit infectious as well and she needed something like that at the moment. And, surprisingly, she wasn’t having a bad time.

So, when he asked her out for a second date, she bit the inside of her cheek and accepted.  

tags: @naomi02hook @okaydraco @fandomscombine @iliketoast23

[marvelmadam08]

Meanwhile, In Quarantine...

Part of 100 Days of Marvel

Prompt 7: Well which is it? I’m getting nervous. // Prompt 79: You just ignored rule one through five. // Prompt 39: We’re gonna die here. // Prompt 11: I remind myself murder, even attempted, is illegal.

A/N: I’m on day seven or nine (honestly I lost count) of my quarantine, and I am slowly loosing my mind. Then I thought ‘What would the Avengers do during this quarantine?

~~~~~

One Week Earlier

“Miss (Y/N), Mr. Stark is calling for a mandatory team meeting in the common area.” Friday announces to you, interrupting your workout

“Right now?” you huffed out

“Yes, he says it’s urgent.”

You were the last to show up, annoyed and sweaty. Nat seemed to be the only other one who looked as annoyed as you, with her hair wrapped in a towel. Bucky, Sam and Steve lounged on the couch, while Clint was sharpening his arrows. Wanda and Vision stood off to the side to themselves. Thor sat next to Peter, who was hunched over his homework and Bruce stood next to Tony by the muted television displaying the news.

“Everyone here?” Tony pointed to everyone “Good, well I’m not sure if you all heard about this whole ‘virus’ that’s going around.”

“The Coronavirus?” Steve asked

“That’s the one,” Bruce nods “there have been a few cases popping up throughout the city, as well as the country, and within the next few days the entire country is going to be on mandatory quarantine.”

“Quarantine?” Peter spoke up “Like we can’t leave the country?”

“No, as in you can’t leave your house. And that includes The Compound and Tower as well.”

The room erupted in numerous hisses of disagreement. 

“Half of us don’t even need to be in quarantine.” Nat stated loudly

“Yeah, stupid super soldiers.” you muttered

“That’s uncalled for.” Bucky gave you a stink eye 

“Doesn’t matter, we’re being order by the government and Fury to stay put.” Tony tells you all “Parker, I’m only gonna say this once, you to stay put. No school, no parties, no dates.”

“But here at The Compound would be more ideal, seeing as it’s away from the city.” Bruce adds softly

“So we’re stuck here?” Wanda asks “For how long?”

“Well they say the quarantine could last between two weeks to two months.”

“Well which is it? I’m getting nervous.” Sam unmuted the TV

‘....stores have already begun to run out of water, toilet paper, and even baby wipes...’

Day 1

You, Wanda and Laura (Clint’s wife) were organizing the last of the quarantine supplies. Clint couldn’t stomach the idea of not being with them during the whole pandemic, so he asked to bring them up until everything blew over.

“Okay so the kitchen is fully stocked, all the cleaning supplies are put away.” Wanda sighed “It’s kind of scary, how everyone is reacting out there.”

“Yeah, I had to wrestle some hand sanitizer from some grown woman wearing a face mask and rubber gloves.” Laura admits

“I wish I could’ve seen that, since you had Nate strapped to your chest.” 

“Speaking of, I should go check on him.” 

Just as Laura walked out, Steve, Bucky and Peter walked in with large pizzas in their hands.

“This is the last of take out for the next few weeks. Enjoy it while it lasts.” Steve tells us

Everyone swarmed for their chosen slices before gravitating towards the TV to get an update on the quarantine. You were instructed to stay inside, only to leave unless it was absolutely necessary, and then return back to respective homes. Keep your contact with other people down to a minimum, and overall to sanitize and wash often. 

“This is what I do on a regular basis.” Bucky scoffed

“Same.” Wanda and Nat chimed in

“This is gonna be so cool, like one big party.” Peter clapped

A few of the other groaned at Peter’s optimism.

“The kid is right,” Tony agreed “most times we’re on missions for weeks at a time. How is this any different?”

“He does make a point.” Vision nods “And surely there’s enough room for everyone to find their own thing.”

Day 4

You glared at Bucky, who was tapping his pen against his teeth, while trying to figure out the crossword puzzle in front of him. You were trying to do silent yoga, silent being the key word.

“Barnes, can you stop that?” you said through your teeth

“Stop what?” he paused

“Tapping the pen on your teeth.”

“It helps me think. Why aren’t you in the gym?”

“Because I can’t take Steve and Nat talking smack when they spar each other. And Sam is playing his music too loud, and his room is next to mine.”

“And it’s the tapping that bothers you?”

“Forget it.” you closed you eyes again and worked on tuning Bucky out

Tony hurried in, scanning around the room “Has anyone seen Parker? I can’t find him and neither can his aunt. (Y/L/N)?”

“Shh, doing silent yoga.” You hushed “And no, I haven’t.”

“He left.” Clint spoke from above the rest of you. There was a small whirling noise, and metal scrapping against more metal, then Clint and his daughter poked their head out from the vent above us.

“What do you mean he left?”

“He said something about building a death star.” The younger Barton, Lila, answered

“Friday, override and track the kid’s phone for me.” 

“Of course Mr. Stark.”

Tony turned his attention to the TV, tapping on his phone and started to call Peter over video. At this point you gave up on silent yoga and just laid out on the mat. Peter’s face popped up on the screen but he wasn’t looking at his phone 

“Trust me, they don’t even know I’m gone.” he told someone off screen 

“Hello Mister Parker.” Tony waves

“Mr. Stark!” He hurried to pick up his phone “Hey, hi... um that’s so funny I was just about to come down to the lab, from my room.... which is where I am.... right now.”

“Oh you’re in your room? Not at Ned’s place building legos?”

He paused “No? I just got so bored! And there were so many rules to just stay in.”

“There were six rules max, and you just ignored rule one through five!”

“Are you sure he’s not your kid?” you chuckled

Day 7

“Twenty-three bottles of pop on the wall.” Sam half sung, eyelids closed, while rocking Nate to sleep

Steve and Bucky were each cuddling a plush stuffed animal on the floor. Morgan ran back and forth between poking Steve with a wooden spoon and the spot where she had a pile of cookies waiting on a plate. And Lila and Cooper were on their phones, headphones in, and not paying attention to their surroundings.

“What the hell you guys?” Nat groaned

“Ooh Auntie Nat said a bad word.” Morgan giggled

“Hey Monster.”

“Auntie (Y/N)!” Morgan jumped over Bucky and ran over to climb up your side until she reached your shoulders. “Guess what, I got to have cookies and chicken nuggets, gummies and a bunch of soda.”

“Nat? (Y/N)?” Bucky lifted his head from the floor, a flattened gummy beard on the other side of his cheek “Please tell me the others are back too.”

“On the contrary, Clint and Tony wanted to know if you wouldn’t mind watching the kids a little while longer.” Nat went to relieve Sam from baby duty “Tony talked to the mayor and got her to extend the quarantine curfew for their double date night.”

The three men groaned, you swore you saw a tear in Steve’s eye.

“We’re gonna die here.” Sam curled into a ball 

“Why did we agree to babysit?” Steve spoke into the stuffed penguin he held 

“Nat, maybe we should help them out.” You held Morgan tightly while she flipped upside down from your shoulders “They’re only men.”

“When the Earth spins, how do we know when we’re upside down?” Morgan poked you in the back 

“Tell you what, clean up your mess, we’ll go get in our pj’s and then I’ll tell you.” you carefully set her back down on the floor, she ran off, picking up her toys and stray snacks 

“Coop, Lila, your homework better be done, because if I have to check myself-.” Nat started. 

They jumped up from their seats and rushed out the room, Steve looked up at you and Nat in awe, Nate fast asleep in her arms.

“How did you-”

“We have a way with kids, don’t take it personally.” 

“Done!” Morgan cheered before pulling at your arm “Can we get in our pj’s now?”

Nat chuckled “Let’s go princess, (Y/N) will meet us there. You can help me get Nate ready for bed.”

Morgan took Nat’s free hand and skipped along side her. You took the stuffed animals and blankets from the guys.

“How did four children manage to out-do two super soldiers and a former air force vet?” you asked

“They’re small, but stealthy.” Sam yawned “Morgan has been asking us that spinning Earth question for hours.”

“I tried to explain how the Earth rotates but she told me I was wrong.” Bucky added

“Oh, it’s a joke. How do you know when the Earth turned upside down?” you paused, waiting for one of them to guess the answer “Fall time.”

Day 12

“What is this called again?” Thor points to Peter’s phone screen

“Twitter.” 

“Twitter? Like the sound a bird makes? Oh and there’s a symbol of a bird there.” he laughed “Humans are so creative. Tell me Son of Stark, what is Twitter’s purpose?”

“Uh.... basically you just post whatever’s on your mind.” Peter handed over his phone to Thor “Sometimes people will like it, and retweet it, or leave a comment.”

“Please tell me you didn’t make Thor a Twitter page.” You spared a glance from your book

“He asked me to show him. What’s the worse that could happen?”

One Hour Later

“Who gave Thor a Twitter page?” Steve marched into the kitchen

You immediately point to Peter.

“He wanted to know about social media. I didn’t think it’d do any harm.” Peter blurted out

“What did he do?” You asked

“He keeps posting.” Steve scrolled through the tablet in his hand “Things like ’What is black twitter?’, ‘poptarts and coffee’, ‘Just noticed how Director Fury sounds like the freeze man in this Disney movie’, ‘Over heard Natasha and Wanda judging who had the best ass. Barnes or Rogers. Clearly it’s me’ He’s trending.”

“Steve it’s harmless fun, he’s excited to be apart of Midgard culture.” you dismissed “Or are you upset because you weren’t voted for the best bum?”

“You should see his latest, and most liked, tweet.” Steve handed the tablet to you with a smirk

“‘Pretty sure (Y/N) and Barnes are dating. How else do you explain their sexual tension?’ I’m gonna kill you Parker.” You went to grab Peter but Steve pulled you away at the last second

“You don’t mean that.” Peter started to back out of the kitchen “Do you?”

“Who gave Thor a Twitter?” Bucky spoke from the other room

“I can give you a ten second head start.” Steve warns Peter

Day 15

“I can’t take this anymore, no missions, no take out, I can’t even go get a freaking smoothie.” You paced from one end of your room to the other “I thought this thing was only suppose to be two weeks.”

“Well Tony said two weeks or two months.” Bucky lounged on your bed, playing with the rubic’s cube “Looks like it’s gonna be two months.”

“How are you staying calm?”

“I remind myself murder, even attempted, is illegal. Plus I’ve been in isolation most of my adult life, so this doesn’t seem so bad.”

“Right.” you said softly “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“I’m complaining about being stuck in here, for my health when you’ve had it way worse.”

“Hey,” he caught your hand and pulled you closer “Don’t apologize, I know you didn’t mean any harm. And you tend to get cabin fever when we go on long surveillance missions. These next few days are gonna fly by, trust me.”

He trailed his hands up and down your arms, traveling to your waist and under your shirt.

“Uh-huh Barnes, not again.” you pulled away slightly “Vision and Wanda almost caught us last time.”

“Because you weren’t quiet.” he kissed up your torso

“No, because you dragged me into a linen closet for wearing shorts.”        

Bucky gave you a small pout “I’m from the 1940′s doll, I fantasized about your calves when I first met you. And that we’re... is this considered dating or are we just messing around during the lock down?”

“I hope this means we’re dating.” you combed his hair back with your fingers “I’m not the kind of girl that you hump and dump.”

“Hump and what?”

You chuckled “Nevermind.” You straddled his waist, he gripped yours a little tighter “So Sergeant, you gonna take me on a date after this quarantine?”

“I’ll take you to Rome as long as you keep calling me ‘Sergeant’ doll.” he left soft kisses on your neck

“Mmm.” 

“(Y/N).” Steve knocked on your door “Have you seen Bucky? I’m looking for him.”

“Nope, haven’t seen him.” Bucky pulled your shirt over your head, and tried to add to the bite marks he left the other day, but Steve wasn’t letting up.

“You know where he might be?”

You rolled your eyes and made Bucky stop “Have you checked the garage?”

“Why would he be in the garage?”

“Steve, pal, can it wait?” Bucky shouted “I kinda got my hands full in here.”

“Oh.” You could only imagine how red Steve’s face was at that moment. 

“You are horrible James Barnes.” you giggled

“Sergeant.” he corrected you in a low growl

“Sergeant.” you brought your lips down to his, quickly fighting for dominance in the kiss. Bucky flipped you over, the bed squeaking under your shared weight

“Uh- should I go now?” Steve asked

[prettyyyboyluke]

Sophie, this ones for you

~

She was never good at English, but she always loved how it’s spoken to her. this semester she was taking English 325, which is studies in fantasy and science fiction. It definitely is an interesting class, and so far the class had to write fantasy poems. This is where she gets stuck. She has no idea what to write about, and it drives her nuts. There is this one guy, Luke Hemmings, who can spit out poems and essays like it’s nothing! And his pieces are always so beautiful and diverse, Sophie doesn’t know how he does it. And every time he goes up, his cheeks turn just a slight shade of pink, and one of his hands is always playing with his chain that he wears around his neck. He’s attractive no doubt, but the way he describes his poems just him ten times more attractive.

He’s been in a few of Sophie’s other classes, and she’s always thought he was just some stupid guy who cared about booze and girls, but in English, he’s a whole new person. Part of her wants to go ask him how he does and if he can help her, and the other part her thinks he would just laugh, so she hasn’t. Since this is Sophie’s last class on Tuesday’s and Friday’s, she normally goes to the library and tries and write something, and that’s exactly what she’s doing. Her brain was spilling so many ideas, but nothing was right. She began looking around in the library and noticed that one of the dominant colors was blue. Then, her brain started working.

She was so engrossed in writing this poem she didn’t even notice her friend, Mirayah, calling her name for the past five minutes. “Sophie! I’ve been trying to get your attention for the last five minutes!” Mirayah spoke. “Sorry, I have to write this poem for English, and I think this is the best idea I’ve ever had.” She said, closing up her notebook. The girls went back to Mirayah’s dorm and started talking about their week. “You know who I realized is in my Psychology class?” Mirayah asked, pulling out a shirt from her closet. “Who?” She asks, picking at nail polish. “Luke Hemmings!”

Sophie’s headshot right up.

“Really? He’s in my English class.” She said a bit surprised because Luke did not seem like the type to understand people.

“Really! I saw him walk in with Calum Hood, crazy right?” The friend says, changing her shirt for the third time.

Sophie was confused, but then again, it made sense. The way Luke wrote and what he wanted to portray always made sense, guess that’s where the psychology comes in. The rest of the night, she was thinking about all of Luke’s past writings and how they all made sense. She wondered if that’s where he got his ideas from. The more she thought about it, the more intrigued she was to find out his secrets. She wasn’t even paying attention to Mirayah ramble on about how much she had to study this weekend.

“Are you coming out tonight? The frat on 9th is having that rave. It could be fun, take your mind off that English assignment.” Mirayah said, putting on an absurd amount of lip gloss.

“I don’t know, parties aren’t my thing, you know that Mimi.” She said. And of course, the more she thought about it, the more she thought about Luke. It started to become like an infection, where no doctor could figure out what virus was going around and no medication could “fix” the issue. “You know what, why not!” She said standing up.

~

The whole night was moving slow, and the frat party wasn’t anything that it turned out to be. Sophie wanted to leave, but she knew that she couldn’t leave her friends. She spotted Luke in the crowd and immediately felt her cheeks heat up. The funny thing is that he was wearing a blue shirt, one that she was writing about in her poem. He started coming up to her, like it was something normal.

“Sophie, right? You’re in my English 325 class.” He said.

“Yeah, I’m surprised you knew my name since our class is so big.” She said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Some of the poems that you’ve written I really liked.”  That was a shock since she felt like she could never write something good. Not to Luke, though.

“Really? I have such a hard time writing, but yours, are really good. I don’t know how you can just spit them out like that.”

The conversation went on for about an hour, which was surprising since a bunch of Luke’s friends kept calling him to play beer bong or rage cage, but he declined every invitation to continue talking to Sophie. She picked on small things he would do. Running his hand through his hair, messing with his chain around his neck, and sometimes stumbling over his feet.

Mirayah came up, clearly drunk, and rambling on about how she needed to go back to her room because she needed to eat some goldfish. “Sophie! Sophie, we need to go! I have to eat my goldfish!” She came up saying. “Okay Mimi, drink some water and stay here while I’ll find Savannah and we can go.” “I can help you find her? I think I saw her go upstairs with Ashton.” Luke said. “Are you sure? I don’t wanna keep you any longer.” “It’s no trouble, I’d be happy to help.”

Luke lead Sophie all around the house, and they finally found Savannah dancing her life away. “Sav, we gotta go. C’mon, I’ll walk you and Mimi back.” She said, pulling Savannah away from the crowd. “I can’t leave yet! Ashton said he’d be right back, and I am not missing a hook up with him again.” Sophie just sighed. “Please, Sav? I don’t need another Mason situation.” Luke came down and began to whisper in her ear. “I can watch her so you can get Mirayah back, and if you give me your number I’ll call you when she’s ready to leave?”

Sophie’s head was spinning from the whole situation in front of her. “Luke, that’s so nice of you, but I don’t need to get a call from her saying that Ashton never came and she wanders around the streets.” “That won’t happen, angel, trust me.” Sophie complied and gave her number to Luke, and he texted her a few emojis so she knew it was him. “Okay, please call me when she’s ready and I’ll walk Mirayah back.”

The walk back to the dorms was treacherous, and the heels both of the girls were wearing was not helping one bit. “Okay Mimi, I just need to be quiet until we get to the elevators. Can you do that for me?” “Yes, ma’am!” Mirayah spoke and acted like she was locking her lips and throwing out the key. Once they got to the elevators it was a quick walk to the room. Mirayah threw her shoes somewhere in the room and climbed right into bed. Sophie sat on the futon waiting for Luke’s call, and she ended up dozing off.

3:56 am - Luke

“Hello?”

“Sophie? Are you awake?”

“Yeah, is Savannah okay?”

“Yes, she’s fine. Are you good to walk back and get her?”

She sighed, putting on her shoes again, “yeah, I’ll be there.”

“No, you sound tired, let me drive her back.”

“Luke, no I’m okay. You did a lot for me tonight.”

“It’s really no trouble, angel. Send me your location and I’ll be there.”

*my current location*

And within the next ten minutes, Luke called again saying that they were here. Sophie walked out quietly and went to meet them in front of their building. “Sophie! I have to tell you so much tea!” Savannah yelled, clinging onto her best friend. “Thank you for driving her, I don’t think I could’ve handled it myself.” Sophie thanked Luke. “Anytime angel, now go get some rest and I’ll see you in class on Tuesday,” Luke said, giving a quick kiss to her forehead before getting back into this car.

~

The rest of the weekend, Sophie was confused and excited. Her mind kept wandering to what happened on Friday. Does Luke like her? Was he just being nice? Will he even remember what happened? He texted her only a few times to ask how her poem was going, but that’s the extent of the conversation. And when Tuesday rolled around, nerves were the only thing running through her body. She sat in her seat, anxious for the poem readings today. When Luke walked in, he smiled at her and started walking towards the empty seat right next to her.

“Mind if I sit?” Luke asked, already placing his bag down.

“Nope, how was the rest of your weekend?” She asked.

“Good, had to clean up the house after Friday.” He chuckled.

“I bet, a lot of people were there.” She said.

Their professor walked in, ready to hear what the students wrote. Sophie’s hands were shaking when her name got called to go up and read her poem.

Black and White turned to Blue

No one could see color. Only black and white, until they turned 18.

At 18, everyone was responsible for finding what color their soulmate could see.

Her’s was blue. So was his.

She saw him everywhere, but never went up to him because she was afraid.

At the party she went to, he talked with her the whole night.

And she wanted to know what color he saw, just for kicks.

His eyes were crystal blue, much like the ocean.

He was wearing a blue shirt, and she could see it.

She was wearing a blue dress, and he could see it.

After the party was dying down, he walked her back to her room, completely unaware that they were soulmates.

This was his chance, to tell her.

He got real close to her, making her dizzy.

“Blue’s a nice color on you, angel.”

That’s when both of them could see color.

The whole time she was reading her work, all Luke could do was stare at her. Now the questions were running through his head. Does Sophie like him? Does she think I was too nice? Does she want to talk about what happened? He looked at her outfit, and just like she wrote, a blue dress. Then, he looked at his shirt, the blue one she described. This was becoming all too real to both of them. When she sat down, Luke wanted to ask her so many questions, but he knew he would get crucified by his professor.

The class ended with her poem, and Luke didn’t know what to do. Sophie was getting ready to leave when Luke grabbed her arm.

“Sophie, your poem. It was beautiful.”

“Thank you, I was really nervous.” She began to blush.

They just looked at each other, neither knowing what to do or even what to say. He moved closer to her, letting his nerves settle when he felt her skin against his. Sophie was significantly shorter than Luke, so all she could look at was his eyes. The closer he moved to her, the closer their lips were to touching.

“C-can I kiss you?”  

( @calum-uncrowned​ ) 

[emospritelet]

Pandemic prompts 11 "Oh I'm fine, I never get sick"

I put this in the Desperation verse

Prompt list here

[AO3]

x

Belle left Mr Gold giving Bae his honey and lemon while she went back into town. She had washed her hands thoroughly before leaving, and told herself she would need to be more careful; the virus was virulent and the last thing she needed was to come down with it herself. It was hard to see someone battling their own sickness to love and care for their child, though. She was determined to do what she could to help.

She crossed the street, dodging a trio of men with their arms filled with multi packs of toilet paper who got a little too close. Shaking her head, she walked by the diner and up the tree-lined path that led to the inn.

The interior was dark and cool, and Belle shivered a little as she tapped the bell on the desk. There was a cheerful ping, and she hesitated, hand hovering above it, wondering if she would need to wash her hands again. Should have worn gloves.

“You here for takeout?”

A young woman stuck her head around the corner behind the reception desk, and Belle took a few hasty steps back, leaving enough room for her to enter properly and leave a generous space between them. She had seen the woman on the few occasions she had been in the diner, pretty and long-limbed, a bright red streak in her dark hair. She smiled widely, leaning on the reception desk and tapping red-lacquered fingernails against the wood.

“Hey,” she said brightly. “The new librarian, right?”

“Yes.” Belle returned the smile. “My name’s Belle. Belle French.”

“Ruby Lucas,” said the woman. “Did you place an order? I thought it was Leroy wanting his bacon cheeseburgers.”

“Oh no,” said Belle hastily. “No, it’s not that. It’s - I’m kind of doing someone a favour. I was just over at Mr Gold’s house, and—”

“Oh, you know Rum!” said Ruby, and Belle shook her head, confused.

“Rum?”

“Mr Gold,” explained Ruby, leaning on her elbows and grinning. “His first name’s Rum. I guess it’s short for something? But I have no idea what, so…” She shrugged. “He does Granny’s books.”

“Yeah, that’s partly why I’m here,” said Belle. “I told him I’d pick them up. And - and he said that your granny was sick. He wanted to know how she’s doing.”

Ruby’s face fell a little, a hint of anxiety in her dark eyes.

“Oh,” she said. “Oh, yeah, she’s okay. I mean not great but okay. I’m really worried, not gonna lie, but I’m trying not to let her see, you know? She did at least eat something today, so I think maybe she’s starting to get over the worst of it. Maybe.”

“I’m so sorry,” said Belle sincerely. “What about you?”

“What? Oh, I’m fine, I never get sick,” she said, waving a dismissive hand. “Just as well, this place doesn’t run itself. Even with no customers.”

“The diner’s still doing takeout?” asked Belle, and Ruby nodded.

“Yeah. Business is pretty slow, but we’ve done a few deliveries of meals to people who can’t leave their homes, and there are regular orders for burgers.”

“Better than nothing, I guess,” said Belle.

“Yeah, but if the Mayor orders a full lockdown, we’re screwed,” said Ruby, with feeling.

“Is that likely?”

“Don’t know. If those morons down at the Rabbit Hole don’t keep throwing their stupid parties, maybe.”

“That would be hard on you guys,” said Belle. “I’m kind of stuck in limbo until I can open the library, but at least I’m getting paid.”

“Sucks, huh?” said Ruby, and sighed. “How’s Rum? How’s Bae? He’s a cute kid, but I imagine even he’ll start to bounce off the walls if he has to be stuck inside.”

“Oh.” Belle winced. “Uh - he’s sick. Actually, they’re both sick. Kind of why I’m here, I wanted to help them.”

Ruby looked sober.

“Damn, I should have known there was something up when he didn’t pick up the books,” she said. “Between caring for Granny and trying to look after the business, I don’t have a minute to really think about the rest of the town.”

“And I’m here with time on my hands,” said Belle. “So I said I’d run any errands he needed.” 

“Well, it’s good of you,” said Ruby. “We try to be there for each other in this town. There’s a few exceptions—assholes, in case you needed a translation—but most people will help you out if you need it.”

“That’s good to know,” said Belle, with a smile. “And I could probably use a guide to the local assholes, just in case.”

“Consider it done,” said Ruby, with a grin. “How’s Bae doing?”

“He’s in bed,” said Belle. “High fever and a cough. Mr Gold is trying his best to ignore the raging fever he has while he tries to look after him. I’m worried he’s gonna collapse from exhaustion, never mind the virus.”

Ruby snorted.

“Yeah, that’d be right,” she said. “The guy would walk over hot coals for his son. It must be tearing him up not being able to care for him properly.” She threw up her hands, shaking her head. “Anyway, this isn’t getting anything done, is it? Let me get those books for you.”

She pushed away from the reception desk, heading out, and Belle paced slowly back and forth, one eye on the empty street outside. Ruby’s words had given her pause for thought, and an idea was forming in her mind. It wasn’t the best idea she had ever had, in the circumstances, but it had taken root and branched out in her brain, refusing to budge. She nodded to herself. It’s the least I can do. Maybe one day I’ll need someone to be there for me. 

It wasn’t long before Ruby came back in, arms carrying two heavy ledgers, a cardboard concertina file and a plastic bag full of what looked like cash register receipts. She let the pile thump onto the reception desk, huffing out a breath.

“You gonna be okay carrying these?” she asked. “They’re heavier than they look.”

Belle thought for a moment.

“Would you mind holding onto those?” she asked. “I’ll bring over one of my suitcases. I can pack everything in and wheel it over to Mr Gold’s place.”

“Good idea. Oh!” Ruby bounced on her toes. “I’ll give you one of Granny’s apple pies to take around. That’s Bae’s favourite. And tell them I said to get well soon.”

Belle smiled.

“I will.”

x

Half an hour later, Belle was walking back to Mr Gold’s house, pulling her suitcase with one hand and carrying a box containing an apple pie and a package of chocolate chip cookies in the crook of her arm. The suitcase was a little heavier than it should have been; she had also packed a small overnight bag which was stowed beneath the accounting records. 

Belle had decided that Mr Gold and his son needed help, and that they were unlikely to get it from anyone but her in the current climate. She was prepared for Gold to insist that he could do everything himself, but it was clear that he was holding on by his fingernails. If he accepted her help, perhaps he could at last get some rest.

Knocking on the front door of his house, she could hear faint coughing from above, then silence. She knocked again, and eventually Gold opened the door, looking drawn and exhausted. He smiled warmly, though, and stood aside as Belle entered, careful not to touch her.

“Ruby sends her love,” said Belle, marching through to the kitchen and hearing him close the front door. “She says that Granny’s quite sick, but she thinks she’s over the worst of it.”

“That’s good to know.”

She slid the box onto the table, turning on her toes to face him.

“She sent over an apple pie, and some cookies,” she added, and Gold’s face broke into a smile.

“That was very kind of her,” he said. “Thank you for doing that, I’ll make a start on those books tonight.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” she said sternly. “You’re dead on your feet. Please, take some rest. Just - just lie down for a few hours, get some sleep.”

Gold sighed, rubbing an eye, and she could feel the weariness rolling off him in waves.

“I can’t,” he whispered. “I have to care for Bae. There’s no one else.”

“There’s me,” said Belle gently. “I can help. Please - I want to.”

He seemed to be wavering, clutching at the handle of his cane so hard his knuckles were white. She wondered if stubbornness was all that was keeping him upright.

“Alright,” he said eventually. “That’s - that’s very kind of you, Miss French. If you could keep an eye on Bae while I snatch a few hours of sleep, I’d be obliged.”

“Of course,” she said. “And you can call me Belle.”

He smiled faintly.

“My name’s Rum.”

[chilly-me-softly]

What about for the ‘James son one’. Some months pass by and everything goes good etc & y/n gets pregnant as they have been trying for a baby (as they want a love child of their own) and when they announce it to Jake, he kind of throws a tantrum as he doesn’t want another baby in the house as he doesn’t want be replaced and stuff. Maybe it ending in an argument between him and James at first & Jake comes stand by your bed in the middle of the night crying while apologizing. I trust u on this 💙

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Jake turned four last month, the little party with his schoolmates was exhausting but the happiness on the child’s face during the day you’ll never forget.

That night, when you put him to bed, you stayed to watch him sleep a few more minutes than usual. He was growing up so fast and every day he looked more and more like James.

“Imagine how cute it would be if he had someone close to his age to play with” you always wanted a sibling, someone to share your times with, someone to blame for the jokes, fighting over stupid things but having those moments of sweetness that make you not want to kill him…

“Yeah” James’ hand on your back suddenly stops and makes you lift your head out of his chest to look at him, “Wait… you want a baby?”

“You don’t?” you ask with a slight smile, “I mean, Jake’s four now, the house is quiet enough when he’s not around. And I’d love to have a baby of our own, James”

“Look, I know you didn’t have a good experience with Jake. Although you raised him wonderfully, I know it was hard to do it alone, and I don’t want to force you. Just know that when you’re ready, I’m ready”

“God (Y/N) I love you so much” he draws you to him to leave a kiss on your lips, his voice broken by emotion.

“So that’s a yes?” he giggles on your lips before nodding. “Yes, let’s make another baby”

You kiss each other for what’s a whole minutes before James breaks off and puts a thumb on your lips, “I wanted to talk to you about something too. A couple of things actually”

Curiosity takes over as he rolls over on his side to pick up something in the drawer of his bedside table and you rest your back against the headboard of the bed. A folder is placed on your legs and you look at James before you take it in your hands and read something.

It’s a paper to fill out, the bold writing at the top immediately catches your attention and your eyes fill up with tears. “You want…”

He nods, “And so does Jake. We talked about it and I tried to explain more or less what it all meant to him and he really wants you to officially be his mom”

“I- wow, I-I don’t know what to say. Give me a pen” you giggle as you wipe those tears that are wetting your cheeks and take a deep breath. Your hand shakes as your eyes look where you need to sign, but you think of something once you take the cap off the pen.

“Wait, shouldn’t we be married for me to adopt Jake?”

“That’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about” your eyes follow his movements as he takes a little box out of the same drawer as before.

“Oh my god James” your hand goes to cover your mouth in disbelief, your heart beats so fast, too much excitement for one day.

“I’ve had this ring for weeks, trying to find the best time. But then I thought all the moments I spend with you could be, because with you everything is special”

“And I’m not asking for Jake, I mean he’s one of the reasons, but I’ve been dreaming of seeing you in a white dress practically since Jake called you mom at the stadium that day. You’re a special person and I’d really like to call you my missus as soon as possible”

“You’ve already convinced me without opening your mouth” you put your hand under your eyes to give you a demeanour, “but damn James Maddison, I love you so much”

“So that’s a yes?” he copies your words from earlier while you giggle and nod, “Yes, I want to marry you James Maddison”

With trembling hands he puts the ring on you and then you kiss, your tears mix with his and you can’t stop giggling every here and there.  "Can you be quiet?“ he murmurs on your lips before putting his hands under your shirt, too happy and too much adrenaline flowing through your bodies not to end the evening the way it ends.

So here you are three months later, in the middle of wedding preparations and a hyperactive kid who wants to have his say on it - you won’t turn your wedding into another birthday party anyway.  The morning after that eventful evening, he had somehow spotted the ring on your finger and ran to hug you, almost risking throwing you down for the surprise, screaming that you were going to be his mom. And you cried again, the wave of emotion still too fresh to think about it and not do it.

You haven’t even put your feet on the ground yet, but you already know it’s going to be a bad day.Your stomach rebels as soon as you move and you only have time to get to the toilet before throwing up. The sudden movement wakes up James who is immediately by your side caressing your back while you are rejecting practically only bile because you haven’t had time to eat anything.  

"There’s this virus going around, half of Jake’s class got it” James makes you go back to bed after you’ve brushed your teeth and tucks you in before getting Jake ready for kindergarten and get home as fast as he can in case you need him.

You eat little or nothing during the day, and when Jake comes home, he snuggles up to keep you company. You fall asleep stroking his hair and it goes on for days, morning sickness and tiredness even though all you do is sleep.

James starts to worry, at this point it is obvious that it is not a trivial flu and decides to take you to a doctor, who gives you the good news. You’re around six weeks pregnant.

You can’t believe it, you had put the baby idea aside at least until after the wedding and yet here you are in that doctor’s office, the ultrasound machine in front of you with what is your child on the screen.

You are over the moon and keeping it hidden is hard, you try to apply some method against nausea that you read online and sometimes you succeed. Sometimes you find yourself having to explain to the concerned child that it’s just the flu. You want to wait until you get out of the first trimester before you tell anyone, before telling Jake.

“Should we postpone the wedding?” you ask James one night when Jake’s been asleep for hours and you’re on the couch watching a movie. Your little belly covered by James’ hand while you’re leaning on him.

“What do you mean?”

“Waiting for the baby to be born?” he leaves a kiss on your head, waving his thumb on your belly.

“It’s two months away, how long will you be… six months by then?” you nod slightly, “It’s your call to make, you’re carrying this little creature inside you and only you know what’s best for both of you”

“No James, I don’t have to marry myself. So, what do you want?” you look up at him, a smile is opening up on his face.

“I was already imagining you and me and Jake and this little guy sharing our day together. As a family”

You stretch out to give him a tender kiss on the lips, “I guess I’ll have to make some changes to my dress then”

Telling Jake is perhaps the hardest thing of all, you’re nervous and you didn’t think giving out such good news would make you vomit at any moment. The time had come, your belly was starting to notice and soon you couldn’t hide it from anyone.

James just got back from picking Jake up from practice and you’re sitting on the couch waiting for them. You exchange a look with James and after greeting the kid, you both make him sit in front of you.

“So Jakey, your daddy and I have something to tell you”

“Okay” the baby looks at you smiling and you two look at each other for a moment before James nods slightly.

“In a few months you’ll have a little brother” silence falls in the room, the smile on the baby’s face slowly disappears and his lower lip starts to shake visibly.

“Jakey, hey what’s going on?” you ask worriedly as you get up from the couch and go crouch down in front of him but he quickly breaks away from your grip making you lose your balance and you’re down before you can realize it.

“(Y/N)! Oh my God, are you okay?” James is right next to you while your eyes are still on the little boy, his little red face and tears in his eyes have their effect on you as you find yourself crying.

“Jake, go to your room” James orders him as he tries to calm you down but the baby slams one foot on the floor, “No!” he screams in tears.

“Now!” he yells at James and you’re so surprised just as much as Jake and James himself, the baby bursts out crying even louder running into his room and slamming the door.

When you go to check on Jake a few hours later, he’s asleep. On his cheeks you can still see the path of his tears and your heart tightens because at four years old you don’t have to fall asleep after crying and above all you don’t want to be the cause of so many tears.

You close the door and sigh, meeting James’s eyes, who has been absent since he raised his voice against his son. You go to hug him and he sighs, “I thought he’d be happy”

“Me too love, me too”

“I didn’t want to yell at him, but when I saw you on the ground I-”

“James” you shush him by catching his face in your hands, “Unfortunately it happens, it’s part of being a parent. He won’t love you any less because you raised your voice a little bit, all right? It will be fine” he looks down sighing and you go down to the kitchen and make dinner.

James is ready to take him by force when the kid refuses to come down to eat, but you’d rather not do any more damage that night and take him away from going to his room to drag him there. Going to bed without dinner never hurt anyone.

You go to bed with a heavy chest that night, neither of you fall asleep until late giving in to sleep only when you can no longer keep your eyes open.

A sob suddenly catches your attention, and it takes you a while to focus on the image of Jake rubbing his eye with one hand in front of you. You jerk taking him in your arms right away and rocking him, he wraps his arms around your neck tightly and letting the tears soak your neck.

A light comes on from James’ side while “Did I hurt you?” asks the child still in the same position. And you look at James for a second before you shake your head, “No honey, I’m fine”

“But I want to know why you’re not happy”

“You’ll love him more, he’s yours!” cries the baby in sobs and a tear slips from your eyes before James takes Jake in his arms.

“Hey JM listen to me, you will always be our first child. Nothing and no one can ever replace you, is that clear? No one will treat you any differently and no one will love you any less, you’ll be the greatest big brother ever. Yeah? Will you help me and mommy with your little brother?” he nods sniffing while James leaves a kiss on his forehead.

“You’re my boy too Jackey. Don’t ever forget that”

Part 5 - Part 6