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incomingalbatross · 3 years ago

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GF Fic: (Insert Time-Related Pun Here)

Having a birthday on the last day of summer was great when you were a kid.

When you were in college and vacation ended somewhere in the last third of August? Not so much.

“Grunkle Ford, I...I don’t think Mabel and I can make it to Gravity Falls,” Dipper confessed, the day before his twenty-second birthday.

“Is it the travel time?” Ford asked from the other end of the phone. “If your usual transportation is too slow, we can call in a favor or two for you kids—I know plenty of entities that would be happy to give you a lift as a birthday present—”

“No, I know, I know,” Dipper said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “And I really appreciate that, Grunkle Ford, I just...it’s not the travel, it’s being there. The other years we’ve been in college, our birthday was always on a weekend—last year was a Monday, but we spent that year with you guys instead of in school—”

“Thank goodness that seer tipped us off about her vision of 2020!” Ford agreed. “Taking a gap year to sail the Arctic with us was definitely the right decision for you two.”

“Right? Half a semester of online classes was more than enough. But—I mean, maybe it’s being back in school after being gone for a year, maybe it’s just early-semester problems, but...” Dipper sighed. “It’s just, I’m taking five classes, and I’ve got a TA job this year, and I’m getting back into the DD&MD group again and maybe planning to DM a oneshot as a Halloween event, and...” He sighed again. “It all looked much more manageable on my schedule. It was color-coded and everything!”

Grunkle Ford hummed noncommittally.

“Yeah, I know,” Dipper admitted. “Not the first time I’ve overbooked myself.”

“Not quite, perhaps. But it’s very good that you’re learning to recognize it and take steps to take care of yourself—when I was in college, I burned out routinely.”

“Mabel would sic the ‘Self-Care Fairy’ on me again if I didn’t learn.” The “Self-Care Fairy” was a truly terrifying onslaught of Mabelness, complete with costume and character voice, and would not go away until its subject had reached an acceptable level of well-being and had examined their mistakes. “Which is why...I have to cancel. If I came to Gravity Falls, even with instant travel, I’d only be able to get there around like 5:00 PM and I’d be stressed and anxious the whole time. And then I’d get back here exhausted and with no homework done and with class tomorrow, and...I just don’t think I can afford that.” Dipper paused, a knot twisting in his stomach. “I’m really sorry, I wish we could come...”

“Of course, Dipper, we know you do!” Grunkle Ford hastened to assure him. “Don’t feel sorry for us—of course we’d love to see you, but we just had the summer together. I’m just sorry you’re so short on time.” There was a moment’s silence.

“But how is Mabel doing? Is she facing the same challenges?”

“I mean, sort of.” Dipper smiled ruefully. “She kept trying to figure out some solution so that we could have our usual birthday and everything would work out, but...neither of us could come up with anything that would actually work. And she’s really busy too. She jumped back into school full steam ahead, and she’s got her Etsy store, and all her social groups to keep up with—you know she’s better at managing her energy than I am, but it’s still a lot.”

“I understand that,” Ford said. “You both do what you need to to keep up with your responsibilities, okay? We’re very proud of you both, you know.”

Dipper swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I know, Grunkle Ford.”

“Well, then, I’ll let you go—I imagine you have plenty to do right now! We’ll get in touch with you tomorrow, even if only by text.”

“Thank you, Grunkle Ford! Mabel and I are going to video-call at some point, we think, so there’s that. Say hi to Stan and Soos and Melody and the kids and everyone for me?”

“Of course, my boy. Have a good evening.”

“You too.”

The call disconnected, and Dipper sighed, throwing himself down on his bed. After a minute, he picked up his phone again and texted Mabel.

Just called Ford and canceled plans. He said to take care of ourselves and that he and Stan are proud of us.

Then he pushed himself into the homework for tomorrow until his phone buzzed.

Aww, of course he did. <3 Thanks for calling, brobro. I wish we could go, but you were right--I’ve got WAY too much booked. Why didn’t we check what weekday our birthday was FIRST???

Dipper snorted. Maybe we’re dumb :/

IMPOSSIBLE, Mabel sent back. Clearly an evil College Schedule Gremlin messed with our brains

Is that the same guy who makes it so you can never take the prereqs you need when you need them?

Yep!! And the one who fogs your brain so you THINK you’ve filled all your requirements until it’s too late to patch up the holes in your plan. His phone buzzed a second time after that text. ...Ugh, maybe there ARE gremlins in all the college systems

It would explain Blackboard, Dipper agreed with a frown. Huh, maybe they should look into that...

Anyway, though, u good for Zoom tomorrow?

Dipper huffed, reminded of the fact that they had no time for a paranormal investigation right now. Yeah, he typed, I can do an hour or so anytime after 5:30.

Cool, I will figure out a time and let you know!! Can’t wait to see your 22-year-old face!! :) Even if it sucks that we can’t party :(

Same, same. TTYL :)

Dipper tossed his phone aside again, shutting his eyes for a minute. It wasn’t just the party that had him down—though he would miss the bash that Gravity Falls usually threw on their birthday. It was...everything.

It was having a birthday without Mabel.

Oh, sure, they would talk, but they wouldn’t be in the same place. That was why, really, he’d hung onto their plans until the very last minute. He’d made it work on paper—taking an evening to travel to Gravity Falls, have a party, and be back in time for the next class—and it just felt wrong to admit defeat, to compromise on something this important. Their birthday meant the two of them celebrating together, having a good time, acknowledging that it was important.

This year wasn’t going to feel like a birthday at all, Dipper thought glumly.

But no, that was quitter talk. They were going to do their best anyway, because they were the Mystery Twins! Even if the situation was lame. Even if he was going to spend his time on the call with Mabel tomorrow doing homework and/or bursting with stress.

He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling. “Why do I always overfill my schedule?” he asked plaintively.

The ceiling didn’t answer.

---

Dipper dropped his backpack with a thud on his dorm room floor, hastily unzipping it and digging out his laptop. He was late—he’d left his thermos in his last classroom, and been halfway across campus before he realized and turned around to go get it. He blamed his sleep deprivation (a week in, and his body still hadn’t readjusted to the rhythm of morning classes).

Now, though, he could finally pull up Zoom. He plugged in his headphones as he waited for it to connect (stupid dorm wifi), and was rewarded with an ear-splitting squeal.

“Happy birthday, Dipper!”

He grinned at her beaming face. “Happy birthday, Mabel!”

“Did you get a birthday cupcake?” she demanded. “Or at least a birthday cookie?”

He grimaced. “I got ice cream at the cafeteria, but I had to eat it there,” he confessed. “Here, I’ve got...a birthday candy bar?”

“Hmph.” Mabel looked crestfallen, but plastered a smile on anyway. “It’ll have to do! We can sing Happy Birthday, anyway. One, two, thr—”

Before they could launch into an inevitably out-of-sync rendition of “Happy Birthday,” Dipper heard a loud knock. Judging by Mabel’s startled turn towards her door, she heard it too—

Wait, what?

The knocking repeated. On both their doors.

“..Huh,” Mabel said thoughtfully. With a wordless glance between them, they both unplugged their headphones and went to their respective doors.

“Happy birthday, slugger!” Stan said, grinning, the instant he saw Dipper. Over the internet, Ford’s voice was greeting Mabel at the same time.

Dipper’s jaw dropped.

“Ha!” Grunkle Stan shoved past him into the room. Waving to the camera, he added, “Happy birthday, sweetie!”

Ford peered past Mabel into the screen. “Happy birthday, Dipper, my boy!”

“But—what—”

“Grunkles!” Mabel cried. “...But wait, why not just video call us? Not that we’re not happy to see your wrinkly faces, but you came such a long way!”

“Yeah, exactly,” Dipper said, waving his arm in confusion. “You guys—you know we can’t really visit, right? Even with you with us? We don’t have time. I dont want you guys to waste a trip—”

“But we didn’t,” Ford said smugly. “We came to bring your birthday presents.”

With a flourish, Stan produced something and handed it to Dipper. It looked like...a piggy bank, but with a clock face set into the side?

Mabel gasped. “It’s so CUTE!”

“But what is it, Grunkle Ford?” Dipper asked.

“Simply put, my boy...it’s time.”

“It’s a Time-Savings Bank,” Stan said proudly. “Got our hands on these babies a few months ago, on a little side trip. See, when you’ve got some extra time—like, at night, or when you’re waiting for a pot to boil, or whatever—you can use these gizmos to store it up instead! Then when you need more time, you use the clock to take it back out. Whammo! You squeeze in a few extra hours between the normal ones.”

“Like Daylight Saving Time without the false advertising,” Ford added. “We know you two are short on time right now, but...if you’d like, there’s enough in here to give you and everyone currently at the Mystery Shack a good few hours of spare time. What do you say, kids? Still up for a party?”

“Are we!” Mabel crowed.

Dipper stared at this miraculous device. “But...that’s a lot of hours,” he said. “Where did you get the time?”

Stan barked out a laugh. “You kiddin’, Dipper? We figured from the start that at least one of you would burn out when you went back to school. We’ve been putting time aside in these things for months.”

“...Really?” Dipper said. Somehow, he found himself blinking rapidly, and swallowing down some obstruction in his throat.

Stan coughed uncomfortably, looking away. “I mean, it’s not like we gave you any time we had a use for. Just some odds and ends here and there...every day... Anyway! You kids wanna get this show on the road?”

“YES!” Mabel shouted.

Dipper beamed. “Definitely,” he said. “Absolutely.”

And a few minutes later, when they all found themselves in the Shack (courtesy of one of those “favors” Ford had mentioned yesterday), and Dipper had piled into the inevitable group hug with his twin and his grunkles—and with hours of birthday celebration in front of them all—he had to add, “Best present ever.”

#did i neglect my college homework to write this? yes. yes i did #anyway #happy birthday dipper and mabel!#belated in my timezone but NOT ON THE WEST COAST so it WORKS #gravity falls #mystery twins #dipper pines #mabel pines #pines family #my fic #i did not proofread this At All so...there may be glaring errors #i'll find out later

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tsukiihime · 4 years ago

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Heartbreak (Bakugo x Reader, Shinsou x Reader)

Hey everyone! This is my first BNHA piece, something I wrote when I was bored and thought what the hey, I’ll post it! Feedback is appreciated!

Word Count: 3.4k

Pairings: Bakugo x Reader, Shinsou x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of cyberbulling, swearing, breakup, angst, just kind of a sad piece overall?

Next Chapter

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When you started dating the Explosion Hero Dynamight, you knew that you were throwing yourself to the wolves. The media is cruel and the fans even crueller - if they deem you unworthy for their Hero then you’re in for a hell of a time - and not in a good way. But you loved Bakugo - you’ve loved him more than you’ve ever loved anyone, and for two years of your life you’ve been by his side as he climbs through the Hero charts.

But recently, the media has been sniffing a little too close to home. Someone has tipped the tabloids off to your existence and ravenous fans have been finding your social media day after day. Your selfies on Instagram are being bombarded with hateful comments on everything ranging from your weight to your skin color to your fashion sense, while your Twitter messages are flooded with paragraph after paragraph full of venom and vitriol. You can no longer take the headlines, the hate, the disgust being dished out at you day and day out. You beg your boyfriend to do something, anything to make the media leave you alone. Which brings you to tonight - in a heated argument with the Hero Dynamight.

“All I’m saying is that if you address the media, if you tell them that I’m your girlfriend, they might back off. I can’t do this anymore Katsuki, I can’t keep waking up and seeing this shit on my feed!” You’re so angry you’re shaking, and it’s pissing you off even more that Bakugo stares at you, unblinking and unfazed, arms crossed in indifference.

“You know I can’t do that. I do that, and my ratings plunge.” Your eyes widen in disbelief as soon as those words leave his mouth, you can’t believe he even said that.

“Are you serious Katsuki? Is beating Deku and becoming the number one hero really worth more to you than us? Than me?” Tears threatened to spill over at any moment, your fists clenching until your nails left tiny red crescents in your skin. You stared at vermilion eyes refusing to back down, waiting with trembling lips for his answer.

“You knew what you were getting into when you started dating me. I don’t know why you need so much fuckin’ reassurance that you’re different from all those other damn extras.” That sentence sends you from angry to fuckin’ pissed in less than a second.

You jab at his chest, practically screaming: “Excuse me? When we started dating, I was promised that you’d protect me from everything, including the media. Do you see the shit they say about me Katsuki? What they say about my body, my family, my upbringing? How they call me a slut and a whore because my Instagram has ‘Toshi on it and now I’ve been spotted with you? I can’t even visit my parents because I’m afraid they’ll follow me. I can’t go and see “Toshi because they’ll shit talk me even more! And you sit there and do nothing. Say nothing. All I want is for you to tell them the truth, that we are dating and that we are a couple.”

Now, it’s Bakugo’s turn to bite back. “And I’m sayin’ my hands are tied. They know I’m with someone, and I lose fans. Which means, I ain’t gonna beat that damn Deku at the rankings next month.”

“Fuck the rankings Bakugo! Can you get your head out of your ass for a second?! How in the world,” you turn to go to grab your phone, pulling up the latest headline about you on the tabloid’s website, “can you let them say this about me? Don’t you at least care that I’m being attacked on the daily?” Tears fall freely from your eyes now, and Bakugo flinches for a second, but only a second. You laugh in anger, turning away from him. “I already know the answer, Katsuki. You care more about the rankings than me. I’m in the way of your dream if you say I’m with you, so let me remove myself from the equation.” You grab a jacket, an umbrella and your phone, and put on your shoes. “It’s over Katsuki. I’m done. If you won’t say that we’re together, then we shouldn’t be together.”

You turn to leave, and a part of you hopes that he’ll follow - that he’ll grab you and hold you tight and tell you that he loves you, loves you more than the stupid rankings and that he’ll stand by you no matter what the media says.

But he doesn’t.

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You walk a couple of blocks to another apartment building, ring the doorbell and wait for the response to come from the other side. A deep voice responds, belonging to someone who had obviously been sleeping. “Who the hell is it?”

“‘Toshi, it’s me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? It’s raining idiot, get in here.” The doors unlock and you make your way inside. You know this building like the back of your hand, it’s the home of your best friend and your second home. You make your way to his apartment and he’s waiting for you in the hallway - purple hair tousled and messy, body heavy with sleep and dark undereye circles accentuating violet eyes as he scratches the back of his neck. It’s a tic of his, one you know well - he’s nervous.

“A fight huh?”

“Worse. I broke it off.” Shinsou immediately tenses at the mention of this, and if you weren’t so pissed and hurt by Bakugo you would’ve laughed.

“Shit...I’m sorry. Come in, tell me all about it.” He steps aside and lets you into his apartment, closing the door as he prepares himself to listen to you complain until the sun rises. He agrees to help you get your things when you’re ready to return, and says you can crash at his place until you find somewhere else to stay.

You return two days later, punching in the code to the apartment you and Bakugo share - well, you supposed shared was the better word. It felt so foreign, being here after everything. Memories of the last two years flooded into your mind - lazy days where you spent all day with Katsuki on the couch doing nothing but watching horrible horror flicks and laughing the night away, those early mornings that had you waking up at five o’clock in the morning to cook pancakes while the sleepy blonde wraps his arms around your waist while teasing your culinary skills. Even the late nights when schoolwork kept you awake well into the twilight hours and your exhausted body dragged itself to the bed you and he shared, breathing in the caramel scent of the man you loved as your head hits the plush pillows and you drift off to sleep. But now, all of those memories have disappeared into the wind, replaced with the fight you and Bakugo had before you had stormed out of the house that night. He’s been texting you like mad, calling you like there is no tomorrow, but you ignore his calls. He never leaves a voicemail, so you don’t know what’s on his mind.

As the beige door swung open, you breathed a sigh of relief that Katsuki wasn’t home. You had neither the heart nor the energy to see him after all that had happened and instead resolved yourself to get all of your things before his shift ended at his agency. You spent the next hour rounding up everything you owned - books, pictures, everything that you had room to take and that you knew you wouldn’t miss if you left it behind. When you had a breather you sent a quick text to Shinsou to let him know you were almost ready to go - and took a deep breath as you entered your bedroom. No, your former bedroom now. “That’s all it is now.” you remind yourself.

You start dumping all your clothes into trash bags and gather up pictures and toiletries that belong to you as you clean up the bedroom from one end to the other. As you grab a pile and place it on the bed, an article of clothing falls that you don’t recognize. You bend over and pick it up to inspect it closer.

You know your clothes, all of them. But this lacy lingerie set that is discarded on the floor isn’t yours, hell, it isn’t even your size. Your throat feels like sandpaper and your nose crinkles as you drop the clothes as if burned by a flame. You can’t help but stare at it as a million things run through your mind at once: whose is it? How long has it been here? Was this before or after you and Katsuki broke up? Did he already move on? The last thought is something you know you shouldn’t dwell on, it isn’t your business what he does after you’re the one that ended the relationship. You know this and yet the tears come anyways, endless and stinging without end. Your legs give out and you fall to your knees clutching your heart as sobs fall from your lips, as your emotions bounce all over the place. The molten hot anger you felt at first is now transforming into deep sadness, all the bittersweet memories racing through your mind now replaced by images of Katsuki holding another woman, another lover just like he held you. You can’t stop as your brain formulates these what if situations - what if he was waiting for you to end it so he could be with her? You start to imagine him kissing another with the same passion he held for you. You see another in your place, eating the food that he insists on making to spoil you after a long night of homework, running their fingers through his hair as he falls asleep on their lap, and seeing another wrapped in his arms as they fall asleep together under the moonlit sky.

“I can’t stay here” you whisper to yourself, desperate to stop the tears that won’t end - desperate to feel anything but this pit of agony. You’ll take numbness over this endless heartbreak, this disappointment, this feeling of self-deprecation that tells you over and over that you weren’t good enough. “I-”

The door opens and you hear Shinsou’s voice behind you, calling your name and making his way through the hallway at the front of the apartment. “You didn’t answer my texts so I came up to check on you and-” The purple haired man freezes when he sees you, sitting on the floor with your head in your hands, sobbing uncontrollably as a waterfall of tears spill from your eyes dripping onto your fingers. You can no longer hold back your sobs as everything comes to a head - your insecurities, the hateful comments left on your social media, Katsuki’s own dismissal of your feelings as you two fought that night two days ago. Shinsou immediately drops to his knees in front of you, wrapping his arms around your frame and holding you close. “It’s okay...let it out.” You peer up at him from tear filled eyes, lunging at him to wrap your arms around his neck as you bury your face in his chest.

“Hitoshi…” is all you’re able to say before another sob wracks your body, tears staining your cheeks and dampening Shinsou’s hoodie. You try desperately to explain why you’re crying, and why you’re so upset but you can’t find the words as your tongue feels heavy like a bunch of bricks. Indigo eyes drift to the underwear discarded behind you, anger seething in his veins as he puts two and two together.

“Bakugo, you fucking tool.” He thinks to himself as he holds you, letting you cry out what you can’t tell him but he knows. He knows you better than anyone, just as you know him better than anyone. He remembers the vibrant little girl he met on the playground all those years ago, who spoke to him without a care even with his “villainous” quirk. He remembers your ecstatic scream as he calls you to let you know that he was able to get into the Hero Course at U.A, and he remembers you celebrating his acceptance at getting into a Hero Agency by getting blackout drunk and waking up with you in snuggled in his arms as you wear his favorite hoodie. He remembers being the one to introduce you to Bakugo at a Hero Ranking after party when you accompanied him as his plus one. He remembers how breathtaking you looked that night - an obsidian dress that hugged your figure closely, long legs accentuated by black stilettos and your plush lips painted in a ruby red hue. He remembers being the man of the hour, the hero Mindjack accompanied by a beauty on his arm, the envy of the venue. He remembers dancing with you, his most beloved childhood friend, his most precious person. He remembers watching you stride to the bar, smiling as you greet the bartender with glee and and he remembers watching you bump into Bakugo as you apologize quickly to the blonde before making your way back to him. He also remembers Bakugo following you to him, prompting him to introduce you to the man who would eventually become your boyfriend.

“If only you hadn’t bumped into him that night”, Shinsou thinks to himself, “Katsuki Bakugo, I’m going to give you a piece of my mind when I see you next.” How helpless he feels watching you cry as your heart shatters into a million pieces, how powerless he feels as he holds you tighter than he’s ever held anyone before. “C’mon, let’s get you home. I’ll take what I can and I’ll get the rest another day.” he smiles as he looks at you, giving you a small grin that he hopes makes you feel a bit better. “Don’t worry, I grabbed your Switch and your laptop, so the lazy girl hours can still happen” you punch him in the shoulder playfully as you wipe tears away on your sleeve, pouting as you roll your eyes at his lazy jokes before he continues, “and I’ll send Bakugo a text on what’s happening. You won’t have to deal with him. I promise.” It doesn’t escape his notice how you tense up when he says Bakugo, but the small smile you give at his joke makes him feel just a bit better. You stand up and press your lips to his forehead, tippy toeing to reach. “Thanks ‘Toshi. I really appreciate it, truly.”

“Anything for my Animal Crossing buddy.” You cross your arms and give him a questioning look, eliciting a chuckle from the taller male. “I’m jus’ kiddin’. You know I’d do anything for you. And your Switch.” You laugh as you turn to grab your boxes and make your way to the front of the apartment, the lingerie that had shattered your world moments ago momentarily forgotten in the corner of you and Bakugo’s bedroom. “It’s only Bakugo’s now” you remind yourself as you walk out into the living room, “this place belongs to Bakugo only.” You take one last look at your home for the last ten months, and quickly turn on your heels to make your way to the elevator with your entire life packed into a few boxes. A small sense of regret lingers in you, but you quickly shove that aside to stop yourself from crying some more. Shinsou grabs the rest of the boxes left on the table, and places your key to the apartment on the counter next to a picture frame with the glass faced down. He then turns and follows you out the door to his car.

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The next few nights are the hardest - Shinsou’s apartment only has one bedroom, one bathroom and the living room which means you’re on the couch until you find your own place. You’ve known Shinsou since childhood and you wouldn’t mind sharing a bed but you’re so distraught from your discovery in Bakugo’s room that you want to be alone to cry it out if you need to - you already feel like a burden to Shinsou despite his protests against the idea. He’s not home tonight - on patrol around the city as you sit in the living room wrapped in a blanket and wearing his favorite hoodie. You flip through the channels and stumble across the Hero Rankings red carpet. It’s been ages since Hitoshi attended one, becoming more of an “underground hero” and avoiding the spotlight if possible. In fact, the only time he attended one was with you around the time you met Bakugo. You cringe at the thought of him, trying quickly to remove him from your mind. The rational part of your mind wants to change the channel, to watch those documentaries you love so much and wait until Shinsou gets back home but you don’t. Instead, you decide to remain on this channel, watching as heroes come and go on the red carpet with their dates and hear the host gush about each one’s accomplishments. This is torture, you know Bakugo will appear since he’s the number four Hero, you know he’ll be there and yet like a train wreck, you can’t look away. Maybe you’re curious as to what he’s up to, or maybe you want to see if he looks as miserable as you know you do. In any case, you wait with baited breath to see a pair of scarlet eyes and ash blonde hair to satiate your curiosity. A flash of green catches your attention and you see Izuku Midoriya appear on screen in front of you. Deku is the number three Hero and on his arm is his girlfriend Uraraka, another Hero ranked at number seven. You’ve met the both of them at parties you attend with Bakugo - they both received a lot of hate from “fans'' when they announced they were dating, but the love they exuded for each other made the media change their tune really fast. They truly adored one another and didn’t care if their ratings took a dive. You had wished Bakugo would do that for you, but you weren’t a Hero and you didn’t have an impressive quirk, so his agency decided that it would be better for his ratings if he kept you a secret and he agreed. At first, you didn’t mind but the comments on social media and the tabloids made you feel as if he wasn’t yours at all - instead all you felt was that he was ashamed of you.

Then you see him. You grip the remote so hard it almost hurts, but you keep on looking anyway. There stands the number four Hero Katsuki Bakugo, wearing a red and black suit and looking as he always does - confident to the point of arrogance, a grumpy face that makes him unapproachable, arms crossed in annoyance. The cameras go off flash after flash, and the announcer goes over his stats - how many people he’s saved, his amount of solved cases, so on and so forth. You smile at his ranking, he’s gone from eleven to four in such a short amount of time, and you know he has his determination to thank for that. He works hard, that you can’t deny.

Then you see her. You recognize her, from the tabloids and the makeup commercials. The Illusion Hero, Maboromicamie. She’s tall, beautiful, and has a gorgeous figure as well as a comfy place ranked as the number ten Hero. Her arm is linked with Bakugo’s, and he has an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close for the photoshoot. The announcer raises their voice in excitement, as a headline appears on your TV: “Dynamight and Maboromicamie an item? Seen together getting close at the awards ceremony!”

You shut off the TV and close your eyes. What were you expecting? Why did you do that? You can’t help the tears that escape, but they do. There you sit, alone in the apartment with the image of those two stuck in your head, burned into your memory. When Shinsou gets home, he says nothing and you’re grateful for it - you know he’s seen the ceremony and he knows you well enough to know that you’ve seen it too. Instead, he showers, lays down next to you, and holds you close as you cry quietly into his arms.

#bnha #bnha x fem!reader #shinsou x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha x you #hitoshi shinso x y/n #katsuki bakugo x y/n #bnha angst #mha x reader #my writing

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hepaidattention · 3 years ago

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denial

part 2

where Allison never died in s3 and Lydia and Stiles are still going strong in the flirting game but still stubborn, so Allison decides to set them up (with Scott’s help of course).

part 1 can be found here

Scott would be lying if he said he wasn't surprised to see Allison's name pop up on his phone screen as he played video games in his room. The names to pop up are usually Stiles and his mom. Seeing Lydia's name was a little more normal - he even got one from her earlier, telling him that Stiles was in the works of a terribly stupid plan and he needed to distract him from it. Hence the video games they were now playing together. Isaac was a little more regular, Isaac just wasn’t much of a texter. Point is, there were a lot of people in his life that he would expect to be texting him at 7 o’clock on a Tuesday night. However, Allison was not one he would expect.

There was a time in his life where Allison was the most common name to pop up. But now, now she was with Isaac and things have been especially weird and tense since her almost dying thing. She said a few things, they both said a few things that might have made things even more awkward now than ever. It was by a miracle that Scott was able to even heal her enough to get her to a hospital in time. Even Scott thought they had lost her forever that night.

Isaac was there in his room too, defeating Stiles in the game with a triumphant grin on his face. Stiles just looked like this gave him even more reason to hate him. Now that Isaac and Allison were officially dating, Stiles claims that Isaac broke some kind of bro code and he shouldn't be allowed over his threshold. Scott doesn't care though; Isaac's his friend. Besides the guy lived here most of the time, where else would he go?

Stiles, his attention now split, of course noticed Scott's uneasiness. Probably because he died a while ago and has shown zero interest in rejoining. Stiles was now frantically glancing from the game to zombie-like Scott, trying to catch his eye. It wasn't until his half baked attention span made him lose (Isaac cheering over his success) that Stiles turned to Scott and asked, "You okay there buddy?"

"Yeah, yeah," Scott locked his phone screen. He couldn't make himself open the text. He was sure it was probably something small, like 'hey do you have the history homework for tomorrow', but there was too much pressure for him to open it right now. He couldn't do it with two pairs of peering eyes now watching him. "Sorry, just started thinking. Got a little distracted. How about another round?"

"I'm down." Isaac tried to sound cool, but he sounded more enthusiastic about it then anything. With his permanently smug expression, he weaved his hands behind his head and leaned back, as if winning this game was a walk in the park.

"Of course you are Lahey," Stiles glared at him, his temper boiling when Isaac even breathed loudly. "Hey, why don't you do Scotty boy here a favor and go get him some water. He looks parched."

The weirdest thing about Isaac is now that he stole his alpha’s/friend’s ex-girlfriend, he did everything for Scott. Scott hated it. Stiles? Well he thoroughly enjoyed it.

Isaac shrugged. "Yeah, okay, I could use a drink." He got up and walked out, not even questioning it.

Scott waited until he left to say, "I'm not even-"

"Not all of us have a servant to wait at us hands and feet, okay now Scotty? Some of us, when thirsty, have to stretch a little truth to get even the simplest of things." He leaned back into the beanie bag and sighed. "Now what did Allison say?"

Scott's eyes widened and he looked behind them in case of Isaac before hissing, "How did you know she-?"

"You've been staring at her name on your screen for the past 10 minutes there, buddy. You're not exactly stealthy about it."

Scott smirked back at him and winced, it was this look that he gave Stiles a lot. Stiles knew it as ‘yeah okay well you don’t know everything thank you very much smartass’, but that was just general speculation. Nothing was set in stone. Scott looked back down at his phone fearfully as he said, "Like you can talk. You've spent all day staring at the clock, counting down the hours until you can go faun over Lydia Martin as she bosses you around again."

Stiles gave Scott that distinct look in return, this time it said 'you can't turn this around on me'. "Yeah, okay, whatever - I see what you’re doing. And I don't know what you’re talking about - I'm not seeing Lydia later."

Scott arched a brow, "That's not what Lydia said."

Stiles clearly wanted to ask what Lydia did say, but he was too smart for the bait. Scott knew it seemed to easy. Instead Stiles said, "So what you’re saying is you haven't even opened the text then?"

Scott puddled into the floor in shame, "Nope."

"C'mon man, she's probably just checking up, right? I mean, you've been really weird around her lately. Like borderline schizoid weird. Maybe she's just trying to clear some air so you'll stop dodging her every time you see her in the halls."

Scott frowned, "Have I really been that weird?"

"Scott," Stiles blinked, his face fallen, "yesterday she asked you for a pencil in class and you stared at her for five whole minutes before you gave her like ten. Then when she said she only needed one, you didn’t respond but instead you gave her like ten more."

"She loses her pencils a lot," Scott defended, "it was for later."

Before they could finish their conversation Isaac reappeared with the water. He handed it to Scott, which Stiles then took from his hands before he could even think about drinking it and took a long sip. Isaac flopped back into the beanie bag when Stiles said, "Hey, Scotty here's stomach is growling. You should go make your true alpha a sandwich, Lahey."

Isaac started to stand.

"Isaac, no stop -" Scott shot a glare at Stiles, clearly annoyed with his antics. "I don't need a sandwich, I'm fine."

"Okay," Isaac shrugged, "I'm gonna go make one for me then. I’ll make extra just in case." He walked out and Scott gave Stiles his 'I'm a disappointed mom' look.

"What? He’s hungry too, he said it himself.” Scott’s face didn’t change. Stiles sighed, “C’mon - Scott, he's like a puppy. He will willingly do anything the fuck I want for you and he doesn't even think twice. You could ask him to jump off a bridge for you and he'd probably do it."

"And that's definitely not something we're going to test." Scott gave him a warning glare before leaning back in his seat and looking back at his phone screen. "He just feels bad about Allison and he shouldn't, I don't have some kind of claim over her. We've been broken up for a while now."

"If it doesn't bother you so much, then why don't you just open the text from Allison?"

Stiles was attempting to make Scott admit something, but he actually had a really good point. Him and Allison were over, no matter what they might have said to each other that night. He needed to toughen up and read the text.

"You know what? You're right, Stiles." Scott unlocked his phone and clicked on the message in one swift motion.

"That's not something I hear very often." Stiles watched, trying to read the text over Scott's shoulder. "What does it say? Was I right? Does she need to return to you all the unneeded pencils now?"

To Scott's surprise, it was about Stiles himself. Stiles and Lydia, to be more precise. Scott locked the screen again, just in time before Stiles got a glance at it. He just shrugged it off and said, "She just has question about history homework. I'll answer it later."

Stiles knew he was lying. Scott could tell by the look in his eyes, he didn't believe a word he just said. "Yeah alright, sound like believable bullshit at least." He deadpanned. "Not any chance you're going to actually tell me what she said, is there?"

"It's just about homework Stiles, that's it."

Stiles sighed and pulled out his phone now, his eyes on the time again. "I knew it. She wants to return the pencils. No normal human being needs that many pencils. Why do you even have that many pencils?"

"I always come to school prepared." Scott was reading the text again, now that Stiles was occupied with his own phone.

Stiles raised a brow, the corner of his lips sliding up to the side. "You know, just in case you break all twenty pencils with your werewolf super strength before lunch?"

“Ha ha,” Scott said with heavy sarcasm, probably something he learned from Stiles himself.

The text said, "I need your help. Stiles and Lydia, as we both know, are in denial about being completely in love. We have to do something or I'm going to lose my shit. Meet me tomorrow morning at my locker. DON'T bring Stiles."

Scott was grinning to himself, something he wasn't aware of until Isaac with a mouthful of sandwich said, "What's got you so giddy?" He entered the room and dropped a plate of sandwiches at the floor in front of all of them. "You look like someone sent you that video of that dog who helps people cross the street again."

Stiles was now suspicious, looking away from his evident Lydia texting so he could check over Scott’s shoulder again to see the screen. Lucky for Scott his phone was back to being locked. Both boys were looking at him like he was up to something and he needed to change the subject. He decided on casually smiling as he picked up his remote control and said, "Who's ready to get their butts whooped?"

Stiles, taking a big bite out of his sandwich said, "Let's hope that answer is you."

As Scott royally got his butt handed to him in the video game, he looked down to see another text from Allison. When Stiles wasn’t looking he opened it, glancing down in between rounds to see it say: Take it back. Tonight. 9pm. Pick me up.

Scott had to keep his heart from racing the rest of the night.

read part 3 here

#teen wolf fanfiction #Stydia fic #Stydia au #allison argent is alive fic #issacs still around too #this is a series of them #i just write it when i get the next idea so lol bear with me #I have a plot but not any details yet #I know how its gonna end tho don't you worry #denial stydia series #next is gonna be allison and scott basically stalking stydia as they walk around the forest and flirt/talk about trauma #stydia #my stydia fics

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emersonfreepress · 4 years ago

Note

okay so is there content that you had planned for the ROs and story in general but then scrapped cause there wasn’t a good place in the story to stick it in? and if so, can you share what it was? 👀 👀 👀

yes, definitely. *rubs hands together* oh man, you done asked THE question today xD I can't wait to get into this 😁

Academics. I almost decided to have classes and grades be a minor part of gameplay, but the more time I spent designing it the more I realized I wanted nothing to do with it 😂 I haven’t really enjoyed academic gameplay in other interactive fiction because I 1) hate having to choose between studying and interacting with awesome characters, 2) have terrible short term memory, and 3) hate school in general!! So instead I just opted to have the MC be really good at school, point blank period so I could focus on social drama and relationships instead! 😆

Physical skills. I spent literal months crafting the catering scene around setting up stats for stamina/endurance, dexterity, and strength instead of just magnetism, confidence, and persuasion. They had their own backstories with the MC’s parents being overly invested sports parents instead and I think the background choices were like... martial arts, gymnastics, and track? But yeah, I ended up scrapping it all because I was spending hours on research about those individual sports so I could integrate them into the MC’s narrative organically but like... when I tried to think of what use they would be in the actual story, I came up blank. Best decision yet, esp since it means a lot less coding!

Skin tone customization. For one, I noticed that a lot of my favorite IFs don’t offer that customization and it hasn’t impacted my experience at all. For two, I originally realized I might as well not implement it since I am striving real hard not to introduce any customization that won’t actually be mentioned in interesting or meaningful ways in-story. I don’t think it’s really all that common for real life friends (esp in high school?) to comment or compliment each other’s skin and like... when it comes from someone who doesn’t share a similar complexion or ethnic background, that type of commentary gets... d i c e y. So then I wanted to be sensitive to that but what’s the pay-off? An RO mentioning how they love your skin tone once? Awkward sentences with the MC referring to their own skin color? Idk, just wasn’t vibing with it. I’m open to revisiting it in beta or something but for now it’s scrapped.

Singing, Rapping, and Gaming as Hobbies/Talents. I feel bad about scrapping these, honestly 😂 They’re great and I really wanted to incorporate them but it just came down to already having a lot of stuff to code. Plus, I know I can write the Hobbies/Talents I stuck with far better. And for Book 2 purposes, as well!

Leo. as @sourandflightypeaches asked me about a long while ago, I had to scrap an entire RO 😢 His name is Leo, he was the nephew of wealthy west African diplomats residing in Emerson, and I love him dearly! His backstory was largely based on my mother’s childhood and the circumstances she lived through after immigrating to America. and... ok, i’m about to go on one hell of a tangent so buckle up and bear with me if you can 😅

my intention with this story, aside from writing things that I personally enjoy (graphic violence, spooky woods, social drama, romance, conspiracies 😚), is to explore greed, wealth, and how the ways people and families interact with those two things influence young people and who they grow up to be. here i go sounding pretentious af 😝 and here’s where I apply a cut for those who want to preserve a little mystery to the main characters!

With Gabe, we’ve got someone who grew up with very little stability or financial security but who has found unscrupulous methods to gain status and money, with both noble and selfish motivations.

Kile has some of that childhood experience in common with Gabe, having been in the foster care system since infancy, but they lucked out when they were adopted into massive wealth by a caring, loving couple—a couple that uses their wealth and privilege to be far more lenient and protective of Kile than is actually reasonable or responsible.

Jack comes from a prestigious wealthy family on his dad’s side who he loves dearly but there’s no getting around the fact that they love him back as much as they despise his working class mom.

Jessie is a spoiled sweet heiress (being the baby of her family and the only girl) and while she lives blissfully ignorant of the harmful source and impact of her father's income and career, she bears the weight of the expectation to fulfill very traditional gender roles, including her behavior and appearance, but also extending to her career and life plans.

Rain's wealth led to them growing up sheltered and isolated but also extremely accommodated, giving them maximum freedom and opportunity to discover and develop their personal talents and interests. However, they have almost no positive relationship with their parents who have essentially decided to give up on a kid that couldn't be exactly the accessory they tried to mold them to be—both in terms of their identity and personality.

Rupan/Rohan, at their very core, rejects everything about conformity, self-importance, and excessive luxury—which means they have never, ever truly fit in with their peers. Going full non-conformist, however, has resulted in them becoming alienated from much of their family, as well, despite them all loving each other very much. Their history with false friends and betrayals has led them to over-indulge in their vices and reckless behavior to compensate for that isolation. Sometimes, they just get in over their head and many times, they know better. Every time, it's just that the feeling of finally belonging is utterly intoxicating.

Vivian/Vincent has two extremely successful parents who didn't inherit but instead built up their wealth and they aspire to be just like them, to a degree that is well and truly unhealthy. Their mother specifically is an over-achiever and applies mountainous pressure for them to follow in her footsteps, especially academically. Vi is completely capable of achieving what their mom expects of them, but they were already an extremely sensitive perfectionist so this has made them intensely critical of themself. This is a large part of why they are such a rigid, no-nonsense person and that in turn has made them one of the most disliked people among their peers—which is a huge personal failure to them since their father is a very well-liked and socially successful person in town.

And the Emersons are peak privilege: inherent high social status, brains, looks, charisma, athleticism, and massive wealth. They could never have been anything less than extremely popular, just by virtue of their last name and the nature of the town's social dynamics and politics. And they do enjoy that privilege (esp Curt lol). However, it should go without saying that being so high profile, even (or maybe especially) just in the isolated scope of your hometown, isn't always a boon. Their family's and their own perceived failings are widely discussed and privately mocked and/or celebrated. Real friends are scarce while fake ones and snakes are plentiful. Plus their dad is a gigantic dickhead who sees his kids as extensions of his own status and reputation and not much else. Public shortcomings make for an unbearable time at home and the world outside the estate is at once overly accommodating, full of assumptions, and even subtly hostile at times—all unrelated to their own actions or character.

And with the MC, I think the narrative will make it clear there are several ways that story can go. You start off with irresponsible parents that have lost their wealth due to their own mismanagement and material ambitions—how that affects any individual MC should differ based on choices and consequences!

So why bring any of that up when I was supposed to be talking about my cut OC? 😂😂

Leo was going to be the unwelcome recent addition to his uncle’s household, the son of a brother his aunt hates for (petty af) Reasons, and she took that resentment out on him directly by restricting his access to nearly every aspect of the family's wealth. Especially material goods and living conditions. He was basically treated like the help, tasked with playing nanny for his many younger cousins and burdened with doing the homework and providing academic cover for his dumb as rocks cousin in the same grade as you all. To sum it up, he was basically a victim of trafficking at the hands of his own family with his uncle out of town enough to feign ignorance to how bad his wife was treating his nephew and his aunt going out of her way to keep him busy, at home, and isolated. This is sadly a super common form of trafficking in Francophone African cultures (although I don't think most people view it as trafficking. and I’m sure the same is true of other cultures but I don’t want to speak outside of my purview). And like I mentioned above, it’s how my own mom's (and idek how many cousins') child/teenhood went.

It’s a perspective on modern wealth, privilege and greed that I really, really wanted to tell. I am confident in saying it hasn't been explored in interactive fiction yet (though correct me—and direct me 👀—if I'm wrong) and out of all the wealth/greed explorations I came up with, it's the one I have the closest personal ties to and the strongest feelings about. The characters and plans I had for it were detailed and I'm proud of them but at the end of the day... I just couldn't find a place for Leo in the story at large.

Leo was, in fact, the last main character I came up with, when I had already designed and fleshed out the larger story and started crafting the timeline of major events. I think the worst thing I could have done for a story and perspective that I care about this much is shove it into a plot that didn't have room for it at the very base level, regardless of how well the character or his story is written. Shoe-horned characters always stick out. I didn’t want to disservice Leo by having him be the character that did nothing or could be removed from the main plot without affecting it at all, y’know? That’s so much worse than just forgoing the indulgence, imo :((

ugh.... Leooooo 😭 I'm so sorry bb, I failed youuu 😥

#lovely anon #answered #hotmess #ok I am truly so sorry for going on and on like this #writing #ch design #ty for this question it was really nice to revisit this stuff 😃#and a nice reminder to not look back lol #scrapped

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annepikachu · 4 years ago

Text

MORSE CODE AND CHICKEN DRUMSTICKS (EXO Xiumin × Reader)

(FANFIC)

- Anne (Pikachu)

Note: Reader= Yn (Your name) (female)

13 chapters. Fluff. Lots of beautiful smiles.

(Also, there’s a small reference to Taylor Swift's lyrics because I love her.)

Happy reading!

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

Yn sighed and plopped down on the seat in her favorite corner of the library. She has a painful assignment to complete. Yes painful because she has been procrastinating until the day before she has to hand over the assignment.

“Humm, lately this library has been bustling with so many visitors”, she observed. “What’s up? Are they giving out chicken drumsticks for free?” Her eyes wandered around trying to figure out the reason. “Aah, that must be it" as her gaze stopped and hovered over the librarian’s desk. There’s this unrealistically cute guy who joined the post of the librarian a few days back. His predecessor had retired. And since then the library is mostly housefull. “Okay Yn stop staring at him as if you’re looking at a pizza. You look like a creep right now. Do your homework”, she mentally slapped herself and put on her headphones, opened her favorite Playlist and focused on her assignment.

Kim Minseok was surprised at the drastic change in the number of visitors in the library since the third day of his joining. He had heard from his predecessor about the library being usually empty. He was actually relieved by this fact. He was happy to see that a puppy eyed guy and a Yoda eared guy who seem to be a couple, a guy who always wears a bear hoodie and sometimes accompanied by two toddlers, a pair of cute granny and grandpa, and a clumsy handsome young lady are the only daily visitors. But it seems that his relief was short-lived.

The library has turned into Dalian Beach these days. The girls come with the pretext of reading books here but end up gushing about how handsome he is. One of them didn’t even realize that she was ‘reading’ her book upside down and yet another straightaway came up and put a can of coke on his desk. But these don’t bother him much because he is used to the flood of compliments coming from people irrespective of gender and age. Thankfully the library gets quite empty an hour before closing.

“Oh that handsome girl is still writing. She must have a huge assignment. She usually reads some interesting books at this time of day”, he kept looking at her. “Later on I should suggest her some of my favorites as well". He resumed his work but was soon distracted by the sound of a continuous tapping. His eyes narrowed.

Yn was frustrated by the last portion of her assignment and soon found herself tapping her fingers to the beat of the music playing in her headphones. “Screw it, I give up.” She paused. “Oh well I’ll just do the rest after having my supper. Don’t wanna upset Professor Junmyeon.” She slammed shut her notebook and was startled to find the cute librarian standing right in front of her.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

“Umm sorry for startling you, but I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yes?” Yn was confused. What could this cute guy possibly want to know?

“Did you miss your lunch? Or are you craving for chicken drumsticks just for the sake of chicken drumsticks?”

“Huh?”

“I mean I heard you saying ‘chicken drumsticks’ over and over just now, tapping, to be precise”

“I did not. Well I had thought about it a few hours ago but not now. What makes you think so?”

“Those tapping sounds you made just now. They kinda translated into ‘chicken drumsticks’ though.”

“Really? Are you talking about Morse code?” Yn replayed that portion of the song and tapped consciously, noting down the codes while Minseok looked at her with amusement. “Holy Guacamole!” She sprang up. “You are right. Wow this is amazing!”

“So you were just tapping to the beat that turned out to be saying chicken drumsticks?”

The next moment they collapsed on the floor laughing at this curious conversation.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

III

Yn couldn’t spare time to go to the library for a week but finally she was back on her usual routine. She waved back at Minseok and broke into a giggle as she remembered the conversation about ‘chicken drumsticks’. After sometime she got up to search for another book and almost bumped into Minseok, shrieked and fell on her butt. She got back on her feet, “Whoa, you really do have a knack for scaring off people”.

“My bad. It was you who bolted in here though.” His pout made Yn's heart go UwU. “Anyway which book are you searching for?...This? Okay. Here you go"

Just as she turned and started walking back to her desk, Minseok suddenly asked “By the way Yn, you didn’t ask me my name yet".

“Oh right.” She proceeded towards him. “What is your name Mr Minseok Kim a.k.a Xiumin?”

“H-How did you know my name? Even Xiumin?” He stuttered.

“Doesn’t everyone in the college? You’re probably the only librarian who has a fan-page dedicated to him.” She chuckled in amusement.

“Wow, I had no idea", he whispered.

“They post your pictures from shooting range so I guess those are already pretty much on public domain. But you can check if they have posted any private picture of yours and maybe hit report", she suggested. “Anyway I’ll borrow this book for a week.”

“Huh? Oh right. I’ll issue it right away.” He was dazed from the information overload.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

“Earth to Minseok. What are you thinking about? And what’s with the occasional smile too? Did you inhale Nitrous Oxide?” Sehun asked puckering his brows.

“Uh just two weird conversations I had with a girl. By the way, do you know I apparently have a fan-page dedicated to me?”

“Really?” It was evident that Sehun was feeling nervous for some reason.

“It seems you know something about this. C’mon spill.” Minseok insisted.

“Err well it was I who created the fan-page. Because you’re undeniably the coolest one here in the range. I even added the tagline ‘that’s right, my type’!"

“You little rascal!” He flicked Sehun's forehead. “I had the shock of my life when I came to know about this!”

“But Xiu, who’s the girl you were talking about?” Sehun had a mischievous glint in his eye. “Is that why you were smiling just now? Tell me more about it!”

“Dude it’s not what you think! She is a regular visitor in the library and we had just two conversations. I was surprised that she knew my arcade name Xiumin. And it was she who told me about the fan-page.”

“You have a crush oh her, don’t you? How is she like? Did you ask her out?”

“Relax Hun. We just talked about Morse code.”

“Ugh that’s such a turn off.”

“But she’s quite interesting. She’s handsome yes. And cute too.”

“I knew it! You’re whipped for her! Ask her out.”

“Calm down Hun. I’m not sure about how I feel and I don’t even know if she has a lover. Or if she is at all interested in me.”

“Don’t you underestimate your charm Xiu. And she isn’t interested in you? You get so many love letters, did you forget that? She might be charmed by your smile but probably doesn’t show it. She has a set boundary maybe?”

“I don’t want to draw inferences” Minseok sighed. “But yes I’d love to keep talking to her.”

“Use Morse code.” Sehun chuckled.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

Finally it’s FriYay night and Yn couldn’t be happier staying in her pajamas and being lazy for the next two days. But what the hell! She can’t find her headphones anywhere. And she doesn’t remember where she had last placed them. They were a gift from her cousin. Chanyeol would be upset. She will ask his boyfriend Baekhyun to calm him down and herself buy a new one in the meantime.

Her thoughts were interrupted by her phone ringing.

“Hey Yn, Minseok here. I got your number from the library register. Sorry to call your number without your permission but I just found your headphones in the library and thought I should inform you right then.” He sounded sheepish.

“Phew, I’m so relieved! I was searching for them everywhere and almost decided to buy a new one. Thank you Minseok! I’m glad that you found them.”

“Uh it’s okay. I’m relieved too. So do you need these urgently? Then I can wait in front of the library and hand them over to-"

“No no, I don’t need them right at this moment, but… Umm can you please keep them with you until Monday? I visit the library everyday anyway. I’m too lazy to step out now.”

“Hahaha, okay okay. Don’t worry about that. See you on Monday”

Yn rolled back on her bed smiling. “I’ll have to treat him to chicken drumsticks for real.”

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

“Thanks a lot Minseok." Yn took back her headphones and smiled with her heart eyes now making Minseok's heart go UwU. “Even if it’s not a big deal for you, I am really grateful to you and so I got something for you as a token.” She then started tapping on the desk. Minseok looked at her inquiringly but soon started interpreting the codes as she tapped away. “Got a box of chicken drumsticks for you. Hope you like them.”

He looked at her in surprise. “Who does not like drumsticks? You did not really have to do this though. Thank you for this.”

“Bon Appétit”, she said as she gave him the box. “Well, I need to hurry now. See you later.”

“Why is she so adorable?” He wondered while staring at the box in his hands.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

VII

Yn was having several bad days at a stretch now. She spent weeks without sleeping at night and watched FIFA world cup instead. Her favorite team was eliminated in the semifinals. And now the lack of sleep was taking a toll on her. She barely managed to complete all her pending assignments on time. Professor Junmyeon was still upset with her because she omitted a portion of her assignment carelessly. Her neighborhood cat disappeared without a trace. She avoided a freak accident but witnessed several persons getting severely injured. She has grown tired of her menstrual cramps which were being very cruel to her this time. And the last nail in the coffin: she had a quarrel with her bestfriend Jongdae today. Physically and mentally exhausted she placed her hand on her stomach and sat on a bench behind the canteen of the college and started sobbing silently.

Minseok was leaving early today because the library was practically empty today. Even Yn didn’t come. He suddenly spotted someone sitting hunched on a bench at a distance. It seemed that the person was hurt in the stomach. He rushed over there.

“Yn? What happened to you? What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Are you hurt somewhere? Tell me what’s wrong.” Minseok sat beside her worriedly, held her shoulders and turned her towards him. She buried her face in his chest and burst into loud sobs. He instantly engulfed her in his hug and patted her head. “It’s okay Yn. Let it out.” Over the months he grew close to her. They both had a lot of friendly banters and of course some crazy conversations through Morse code. Seeing her cry now tugged at his heartstrings. “Breathe Yn. Take deep breaths. Yes. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I hate crying. I-I don’t want to be like this.” Yn said between her sobs. “I had way too many bad days to handle and-" she paused abruptly. The cramps were back again. She curled up in pain.

“And you are having cramps?” He finished her sentence. “You’ll be fine. Yn. Just endure a bit, okay?” Still holding her tight in his hug he reached out for his bag and took out a heating pad. “Here, Yn. Take this.” He kept on stroking her head and occasionally rubbing her back while she tended to her cramps.

“You okay now?”

Yn pulled back from the hug when the cramps subsided. “Thank you Minseok. Yes, I feel better now.”

“I’m glad.” He handed her some tissue paper. “Now wipe your tears and come with me” He led her to the canteen.

“Here, have a cup of hot chocolate. You’ll get relief… That’s right yes. Drink slowly.” He sat beside her and stroked her head. “Done?... Okay"

Yn started sniffling. “Yn, is everything okay?” Minseok panicked.

She nodded her head. “I’m just touched by your gesture. Thanks for making me feel better.”

Minseok smiled. “That’s what friends do. Well, it’s pretty late now. Let me drop you off at your house. Let’s go.”

“I have an extra helmet and I drive pretty well and my bike is well maintained.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Yn giggled.

“Well I just made a declaration so you don’t feel threatened. Just don’t fall asleep that’s all.” He was relieved to hear her laugh again.

“Aye aye Master Xiu.”

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

VIII

Yn saw that Jongdae wasn’t present in the classroom. She decided she’d visit his house later today and sort out the misunderstanding. She walked out of the classroom during recess hour. Suddenly someone hugged her tight. She smiled and hugged him back. She knew it was Jongdae. “I’m sorry Yn. There was a misunderstanding. I shouldn’t have reacted that way. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s okay Dae, I realized that. And I would have anyway barged into your house had you not come to college.”

“So, are we good now?”

“Of course!”

“Okay then pretty please! Help me pick out a pendant for my girlfriend. I’ve selected some of them but couldn’t finally decide among them. Come with me to the shop later today.”

Yn scowled. “This is why you rushed to patch it up with me huh?”

“Gosh! No no no that’s not it! I’ll treat you to ice cream. Okay?”

“Okay. Deal"

Jongdae sighed. “The way you react to food, I’m pretty sure you’ll drop me in a heartbeat if someone offers you food.”

Suddenly Ji-eun appeared out of nowhere and fake punched Jongdae's face. “How dare you make my Yn baby upset? Yes Yn drop him right away. I’ll treat you to a truckload of ice cream.”

“Guys!!” Jongin appeared and walked towards them making the corridor his runway.

Yn couldn’t deny once she had a tiny crush on him.

“Guess what? Kyungsoo cooked Spaghetti for us!” Jongin screamed. And the four of them dashed to the canteen.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

Yixing was already there with Kyungsoo when they reached the canteen. “Dig in guys", Kyungsoo said as they huddled around the table.

“Okay guys! I’ve some tea to spill", Ji-eun announced while looking at Yn intently.

“Spill! Spill! Spill!” They chanted in unison.

“Apparently Yn has gotten herself a boyfriend and decided to conceal the fact".

Yn almost choked. “Wha- when? Even I don’t know I have a boyfriend?”

“Oh yeah? I saw that cute librarian dropping you off at your house yesterday night. You turned to hug him but you seemed shy.” Ji-eun added with a glee “And friends don’t feel shy Yn.”

Yn protested. “I had my reasons. He’s not what you guys think.” She remembered that she hugged Minseok out of gratitude towards him for taking care of her. She had hesitated initially thinking whether it would be appropriate. But she hugged him anyway.

Suddenly someone put their chin on Yn’s left shoulder and yet another put their chin on her right shoulder and both said in unison, “Well well Yn, you never told us anything about this!”

Yn almost fell from her seat. She turned around to see Chanyeol and Baekhyun smiling mischievously at her.

“So is he or is he not-” Chanyeol said while taking a seat. “Your crush?”, added Baekhyun.

Yn shrugged. “I am not sure. I’ve way too many crushes at this point and you guys know that.”

“The most recent crush is our senior Jessi, right", Yixing asked.

“Well yes but I can only admire her from afar”, Yn replied dreamily.

“Anyway get to the point guys.” Chanyeol took the reins. “So apparently it seems he has a soft corner for Yn. I’ve noticed that. And now we must root for Yn and make sure they end up together. So whats our plan?”

“How about kidnapping him and threatening him to date Yn"? Kyungsoo asked excitedly.

“No way!” Jongin protested.

“You’re going to get all of us in trouble, Soo", Baekhyun chuckled.

“Isn’t that the easiest way out?”, Kyungsoo pouted.

“That’s not how things work, Kyungsoo-ah", Jongin said while poking at Kyungsoo's cheek.

Yn could sense that everyone noticed something was brewing between Jongin and Kyungsoo but unsurprisingly they chose to focus on Yn today.

“Well even I agree that’s the easiest way out but we don’t want to get in trouble.” Jongdae said seriously, “so Yn you better speed up and ask him out. And don’t deny that you don’t feel anything for him.”

Yn was again reminded about how she felt fuzzy while being engulfed in Minseok’s hug. He’s definitely a good friend. But she didn’t want to rush things up.

“And Yn if you want to daydream instead of eating that last spoonful of Spaghetti”, Yixing got up and snatched her spoon and finished off the remaining Spaghetti. “Let me have it.”

“I swear to God Yixing!” Yn sprang up. “I’m gonna train Inzaghi to chase you!”

“Now who’s Inzaghi?” Jongin asked suspiciously.

“It’s the Vincenzo effect.” Baekhyun explained. “It’s a neighborhood pigeon and the naming courtesy goes to Yn", Ji-eun added.

“Don’t you guys dare to give out spoilers, some of us are lagging behind an episode or two”, the rest of them warned.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

Minseok was standing in the balcony of the library replaying in his head the events of yesterday. He didn’t expect Yn to hug him again and make his heart beat erratically. Sehun was right. He is falling for Yn gradually.

“Hey Minseok are you alright?” Minseok heard Yn’s voice and realized he had zoned out thinking of her. “You seem to have caught a cold.” Yn was worried.

“Oh yes it was raining in my area yesterday and I got drenched".

“Uh oh I’m so sorry. You wouldn’t have gotten drenched had you not accompanied me to drop me off.”

“Well it was raining for quite a long time and I’d have anyway gotten drenched even if I had reached my place earlier. So blame the clouds Yn.” Minseok chuckled making Yn giggle at his explanation.

“But seriously though, you don’t look good. I think you have a fever too.” Yn put her palm on his forehead. Minseok was flustered looking down at her worried face. Yn didn’t realize she was standing at almost zero distance from him. Before he could utter anything Yn grabbed his wrist. “You need to visit the doctor right now", Yn said dragging him downstairs towards the doctor’s room.

“He’s running a high fever. I’m giving some medicine.” The doctor took out a file of capsules. “And I think it’s better if you lie down and take rest in the sick room until your fever goes down.”

“But the libr-" Minseok tried to protest but was cut off by Yn’s stern glare.

“Library can wait. Health first Minseok". Yn crossed her arms.

“Tell your assistant about your situation. He can handle the library for sometime.” The doctor suggested.

“You should head back to library Yn. You went there to read, right? I’ll stay here until my fever goes down. Don’t worry I won’t run away from here.”

“I can read later. Now you close your eyes and take rest.” Yn said sitting on the chair beside the bed while stroking Minseok’s head absent-mindedly.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

Yn could sense that Minseok was staring at her for a long time. The library was crowded as usual. She mouthed “what happened?” but he just smiled and shook his head and resumed his work. He seemed tensed for some reason.

She heard him tapping on his desk when the crowd thinned. Her eyes grew wide. He- did he tap “will you go on a date with me?” She saw him walk towards her.

Minseok spoke hesitantly, “I know I asked you all of a sudden, but I like you. I’ve been debating whether I should tell you this for weeks but I couldn’t hold back any further. You don’t need to tell me right now about how you feel. Take your time. And it’s absolutely fine if you don’t feel the same way. But can we maybe go on a friend date atleast?”

Yn thought for a while. “Sure. Let’s have a friend date.” She smiled. “Where are we going then?”

“I was thinking of taking you to my shooting range. We can play some rounds and have snacks later on there. How about this Sunday afternoon?”

“Sounds great!” Her eyes lit up. “But! On one condition.”

“And what’s that?” He asked cautiously.

“Bring me a bouquet of chicken drumsticks that day.” Yn replied with a wide grin.

“As you wish.” He smiled widely as he touched her nose-tip with his forefinger.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

XII

“This is such a cool place!” Yn ran around inside the shooting range, looking at everything in awe. Minseok watched her with an amused smile. Yn picked up a gun and aimed at the target.

“Wait.” Minseok came up behind her and held her arms. She felt her back against his chest. Her heart started thumping. “Focus Yn. Keep your arm straight while holding the gun. You don’t wanna hurt yourself when the gun recoils.” He adjusted her arms. “Now fire.” She hit the target.

Yn was ecstatic. “Minseok let’s play a round then. I’ll go first.”

He kept on smiling and hyped her up every time she aimed with the gun. She was just unbelievably adorable. And a sharpshooter too. She missed the target only once. He fell for her deeper every time she flashed an adorable smile at him after hitting the target.

“It’s my turn now. And I’m going to beat you in this round.” He winked at her.

Yn gaped at him while he shot the targets one by one. He looked darn sexy in that pose. He got ready for the last target and was just about to press the trigger. “I like you too, Minseok!” She blurted out. Minseok was shocked and turned his face towards Yn. The trigger went off and he missed the target.

“It’s a draw! It’s a draw! You didn’t beat me!” Yn jumped and danced gleefully around him.

“So, you- you said that just to make me miss my target? And nothing more?” Minseok looked at her sadly and turned his back to her.

“No! Oh no no you got the wrong idea.” She tugged at his sleeve. “I really meant it when I said I like you.” Minseok turned towards Yn in surprise. She went on, “I have been thinking about it ever since you told me about your feelings. I had already decided I’d tell you about my feelings today. But I couldn’t just suppress the urge to fool around a bit when I got the opportunity to.”

“You’re such a cheeky girl!” Minseok exclaimed and chased her.

“You won’t catch me that easily! I run fast.” Yn shouted while running ahead of him.

“Well not faster than I!” Minseok wrapped his arms around her waist, lifted her off the ground and spun round, making her blush.

“It’s getting late, Yn, let’s go now.” Minseok said tugging at her.

“I’m not able to handle this gun properly.” Yn pouted.

“It’s okay, I’ll show you how to. But later, okay? It’s getting really late now.” Minseok couldn’t stop chuckling at her antics.

Minseok and Yn bumped into Sehun outside the shooting range. “Yn, this is Sehun, one of my teammates in the shooting range. And a TMI, he’s the one who created that fan-page.” Minseok gave Sehun a fake glare. “And Sehun, this is Yn, my date.”

“Nice to meet you, Yn.” Sehun gave her a warm handshake. “Do you like this place and my bro here?”

“I love it here! I’m gonna come here often now.” Yn replied. “And yes I like him too.” She said looking at Minseok shyly.

Minseok blushed. “I’m dropping her off at her house. I’ll see you tomorrow Hun.”

Sehun smirked and managed to whisper into Minseok’s ear, “you are lucky that she’s into Morse code. So did you confess to her using Morse code?”

“Don’t give me that look you cheesy little brat.” Minseok whisper-yelled at him.

Yn stopped by her gate. “I really had a great time with you. Thank you for today Minseok.”

“I’m also glad to spend some time with you. See you tomorrow.” Minseok stopped before turning back to his bike. “So are we dating officially now Yn?”

“Yes. A thousand times yes.” Yn smiled.

He walked closer to her, leaned close to her lips and locked his eyes with hers seeking permission. She nodded nervously while standing on her tiptoes and placed her hands on his shoulders. Wrapping his arms around her he pulled her in and she was a little more brave. It’s the first kiss, it’s flawless, really something. It’s fearless. Yn didn’t care now if Ji-eun was sitting by her window and keeping an eye on her. Yn would tell her group of friends everything tomorrow.

But the thing is, Ji-eun really saw Yn with Minseok. She had a triumphant smile on her lips.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

XIII

Yn saw that everyone in her squad was giving her a cheeky smile while swarming towards her. “Guys, I can explain. I wanted to tell everything face to face. That’s why I didn’t text anyone.”

“And I saw them kissing too!” Ji-eun said excitedly and made a kissing gesture towards Yn.

Yn had a flashback of yesterday. He was very gentle with her. She absolutely melted in his kiss.

“I bet Yn is having flashbacks of that moment.” Jongdae smirked. “Look at her. Her face is a beetroot now.”

“You guys!” Yn stomped her feet.

“Okay, okay calm down Yn. Let’s have a lunch together today, shall we? Tell Minseok to join us.” Chanyeol spoke.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, call him.” Everyone shouted in unison.

“Okay. Okay. Chill.” Yn giggled while dialing Minseok’s number.

Minseok blended well with Yn’s noisy and cheeky friends. Yn was glad how things turned out.

“So, Yn and Minseok. Tell us how did you two end up together. What was the catalyst? The squad wants to know.” Yixing said holding up a spoon as if it were a mic.

The couple turned to each other and smiled. They both knew what they were about to say. Minseok and Yn turned again towards the squad and said, “not just one. There were two catalysts. Morse code and Chicken drumsticks.”

-----(The end)-----

_____________________________________________________________

P.S. Those who are wondering how did Minseok know Yn’s name (in chapter III), I leave it to your imagination. ;-)

He might have seen the library register, or might have noticed the name on her notebook when she shut it, or maybe her headphones were customised to bear her name on them and he noticed that. The choice is yours. And why did Yn not get surprised? Well she’s quick-witted too.

I hope this wasn’t too boring. This is my first time writing a story. Thank you for reading :-)

If you wish you can take a look at my fanart account on Instagram. Here's the link.

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Thank you Ayushee for hyping me up. She has written a fanfic too. Check it out.

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koko-bopp · 5 years ago

Text

Hyung — jeon jungkook

jeon jungkook x fuckboy!male!reader

word count – 3K

genre – Mature | highschool!au

warnings – SMUT, bottom!jungkook, Hyung kink, handcuffs, riding, the reader goes from being submissive to dominate all in the same hour.

synopsis – hey babe can you do another bts x male reader? i was thiking about one where jungkook is falling in love with a fuckboy older than him... there are like i dont know fuckbuddies??? like taking stress away together 🤔 you know what i mean lol

"Jungkookohmhgod! You're dating [Y/N]–!!"

Jungkook immediately covered his best friends mouth with both of his hands, stopping him from exposing such damaging information despite the fact that nobody was around, "Jimin! For fuck's sake!" He whispered, "We're not dating!"

"You might as well be!" Jimin insisted, "He's like a whole year older then you! And you went to his dorm room! Oh my god, did you bottom? Did you top?!"

"Jimin!" Jungkook whined, putting his head in his hands, "Please concentrate, this is a real crisis."

"Dude... Sorry, I'm just really shocked and... I don't know, " Jimin admitted, clearly calming down at the news, gripping his own arm in thought, "...How long has, you know, all this gone on for?"

"Four and a half weeks? Give or take." Jungkook confessed.

"Damn. Kook, you sure about him? Just based on first impressions, he's really different from you, " Jimin said, "Like, I heard he slept with his entire gym class at his last school, I'm just surprised he's your type..."

Jungkook flushed a light pink, you really weren't his type. Initially. He thought he wanted the kind of boys who looked like they were going to get into the most prestigious universities, the type that looked like bought you flowers on weekends and took you on cute dates. That's why he had the biggest crush on Taehyung, his close friend, but as soon as you transferred high schools, you became the talk of the school. There was nobody not talking about you, he even heard rumours entering the damn teachers' lounge.

Jungkook was whipped for you as soon as he saw you during your first lunch break. You were also friends with Taehyung's brother, Seokjin, so he heard so much about you anyway and vice versa.

Then came the day where Jungkook spent an evening in detention for breaking the dress code on showing your shoulders. He'd worn a white t-shirt that exposed his collar bone. Of course, he didn't do it on purpose, he was always such a good student. However, he wasn't mad at his decision, because you ended up being in the same detention room as him after school.

One thing led to another and as soon as the supervising teacher existed the room to answer a phone call from his wife, you had Jungkook pinned against you on the teacher's desk, lifting him up and dragging your hands all over his body. Jungkook's lips clashing with yours in such a way that you were addicted to the feeling.

This went on for weeks; making out in storage rooms, fucking in empty classrooms. Hell, Jungkook once gave you a handjob in the auditorium.

He was so in love with you, and he didn't know why, but when you skipped your class to take him out to lunch he was so whipped. He wouldn't stop taking about you, but only Taehyung knew such a fact, since Seokjin had no problem telling his brother such things.

It was only now that you were coming over to his house to... Relieve some stress, and Jungkook honestly thought it would be much easier to deal with if he just collapsed and died. You'd always done the dirty deed in other places, this was the first time it was at his house and it was because Jungkook accidentally let out that his parents weren't going to be home for the weekend.

"Jiminnnn!" Jungkook cried, "What do I do?"

"Can I be honest?"

Jungkook nodded.

"Play hard go get."

Jungkook scoffed, "That won't work. I'm honestly really easy to get, like way too easy."

His best friend raised a frustrated eyebrow, "Make him work for it, I mean. You're clearly bottom, but make it so that you have the upper hand."

Jungkook tilted his head, not fully reading between the lines of Jimin's suggestion.

"Ride his cock."

Oh. Oh. Jungkook looked at his kitchen counter for a second. Thinking about the idea.

It was a good idea.

Jungkook snapped out of his thought, shaking his head before putting his hands on Jimin's shoulders, "Regardless of what my plan is, you need to leave, he'll be here in half an hour."

Jimin rolled his eyes, "Just... Be careful, yeah?"

He nodded.

°•.°•°•.•°°•.

Jungkook's head perked up from the couch when the doorbell rang, he threw his homework on the coffee table of his living room, getting up to fix his shirt. He was wearing a simple beige shirt, one that fit him well. Along with a pair of grey sweatpants. It was nothing special, as if, they were going to come off, so it didn't really matter.

Jungkook opened the door much to his delight you were standing at the door, your signature senior jacket over your shoulder with your forearm resting on the doorframe. You had a smirk on your face, one that tends to make Jungkook melt, "Hey, Kookie."

Jungkook smiled, "Hey."

There wasn't a second thought, you entered the house, dropping your jacket onto the floor, immediately closing or behind you only to push Jungkook against the wall. He tangled his hands into your hair, your hands on his waist and your bodies flush against each other as you two made out like tomorrow was out of the option.

Jungkook took the chance to switch the position, with your lips still on his, your was back now roughly pushed against the wall he was on, much to your surprise. Jungkook took the liberty to roll his hips against yours, his crotch briefly grinding on yours as Jungkook pulled on your bottom lip with his teeth, "Damn, Kook. Feeling brave are we?"

Jungkook blushed, "I just... really, really want you so bad right now."

"Bedroom. I'll be there in a second, I want your shirt off."

He nodded obediently, heading to his room like a puppy, taking his shirt off, even putting the lube on the table so it would be easier for you to get when you needed it.

Half a second went by when a good idea popped into Jungkook's mind, Jimin had jokingly gotten him a birthday present last year, something he'd worn a few times and something he knew he had, but never got the chance to use it; partly because he was borderline embarrassed, and partly because he didn't have any sexual partners at the time.

Jungkook took out the choker that was dangling from one of the hangers from inside his wardrobe, then getting the something that made his lips twitch up slightly, putting the secret tool into the pocket of his sweatpants; instead, walking to the full-length mirror to carefully put the black lace choker around his neck.

"Jungkook, holy shit." You walked back into the room, your shirt was off and the zipper of your jeans were undone. You glanced at Jungkook's neck, the black material contrasting well with his skin tone, and just thinking about what you could do to the younger boy with such a thing prompted you to lick your lips. You approached Jungkook, hooking a finger underneath the fabric, pulling it so Jungkook was closer, "Is this for me?"

Jungkook giggled, he turned so his back was facing the mirror and your calves were facing the bed. He pushed you on the bed gently, climbing on top you, straddling your hips and placing his hands onto your chest, making sure you're not able to have a say in the position, "It's all for you, Hyung."

He knew the title had an effect on you. You placed your hands on his hips, pushing his crotch down against yours, earning a small whimper from Jungkook. "What do you want me to do to you, baby boy?"

Jungkook swallowed carefully, "Hyung... Can you put your hands above your head?" Jungkook asked.

You gave him a side glance, but you trusted him so you removed your hands from his hips, bringing them up to the position, "Like this, baby?"

Jungkook nodded, a cheeky smile painting his lips as had bought our his secret material from his pocket; a pair of silver handcuffs. "You said you were stressed, so I thought I'd make sure my Hyung feels good tonight."

You were still a little shocked, Jungkook was just always under your mercy, and this side of him was really different, so you didn't really have an idea of what to say.

And it made Jungkook giggle, he snapped the handcuffs around your wrist, making sure it stayed above your head. He leaned down so his lips were next to your ear, whispering with lust dripping from his words, "Please, Hyung," Jungkook moaned, grinding down so you were able to feel how hard he was, "Let me ride your cock, Hyung."

A gasp left your throat, earning an airy giggle from Jungkook. You pulled against the handcuffs, your hips bucking up with Jungkook continuing to grind against you. "Fuck, baby boy," you moaned. Jungkook dragged his nails down your chest, leaning down to place kisses along hour neck, holding himself back from leaving marks.

Jungkook kissed down to the line of your underwear, looking up at you to see you breathing incoherently and your eyes closed, smirking before moving off the bed.

You locked eyes with him, whining at the loss of contact, but giving him a shocked look when you watch him carefully take off everything else he was wearing, everything except the choker. You felt your boxers getting way too tight inside your underwear, letting out a groan.

You watched Jungkook smirk, he took the lube from the table, placing it on the bed before straddling your hips once again. He began to slowly pull down your underwear, letting your cock out from the fabric, but not taking everything off, just enough to no longer restraint anything important. He licked his lips, looking down at your length, then back up to meet your gaze.

He took two of his fingers into his mouth, sticking his tongue out so you could watch him. Taking a few seconds to coat his fingers with the natural lubricant before leaning down to place small kisses onto the crook of your neck.

He was fingering himself. Oh lord, he had placed two fingers into his ass while all you could do was pull against the handcuffs and listen to him moan. The noises he let out were short and sweet, he wasn't moaning loudly and desperate like when you would prep him, but it was just enough to drive you crazy because you couldn't do anything about it. "Jungkook, " You complained softly, "Jungkook, fuck, don't torture me like this. Let me touch you, c'mon– ah!" He cut you off with your own whine by biting down on the spot right under your collarbone, something he hadn't yet discovered.

Jungkooks moans got louder, the sounds making your cock harder. He was prepping himself to the point he'd added three fingers pushing in and out of his hole, and it took so much of his will power to not make himself orgasm just from his own fingers. He wanted to have you fuck him just about as much as you did. He extracted his fingers with a groan, looking up you with a knowing grin, kissing the pout on your lips, "A bit of patience, Hyung~"

You nodded, desperate and eager, your actions making Jungkook giggle like a school girl. He took a good amount of lube into his hand, carefully letting his hand glide along down your cock. He watched you arch your back as groans left your lips, noting that hed made you wait so long to even be touched properly. He pumped your length from the base to the tip but not letting himself move any faster, liking to watching your breaths get increasingly heavier with how easy his hand slid because of the lube, and it made his own hard dick twitch in anticipation.

Jungkook straddled your hips, placing his hands onto your chest as support while lowering himself on your cock, a loud moan leaving his lips as he did. It made you smirk, Jungkook whined softly, his ass was clenching around you already and he hadn't even put it in halfway. You chuckled, despite not having a lot of authority in the situation, "Aw, is it too big for you? Can't my baby boy take all of my cock?"

There was something about you saying 'my' that turned him on so much. Like he was yours to fuck, yours to touch, yours to hold, yours to kiss, yours to love. His mind was telling him he was reading too much into it, but the reason you specifically said the word wasn't wrong. Part of you wanted Jungkook completely to yourself, wanting to be the only one he thinks in such a romantic way and vice versa; Hell, you literally hated Taehyung at one point, and you still probably would if he wasn't your best friend's brother.

Jungkook pouted at you taunts though, gently scraping his nails down your chest to stop the clenching around your cock, getting himself to relax so he could prove you wrong. Fuck himself hard so it would even get you panting like a dog in heat.

Jungkook was bouncing on your cock. His hands were fisted on your chest into a ball and eyes were closed, but his mouth was open, burrying himself in so deep that the room was being filled with so many moans, whimpers and grunts from the two of you. Everything smelt of pure sex and Jungkook looking like a god with the yellow lighting from the nightstand making his skin look golden and angelic, a layer of sweat glistening as well. Jungkooks hair was perfectly messy with the hair covering his forehead and parts of his eyes. "Hyung, " He cried, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, Hyung-!" Jungkook looked so hot like this, his cock was so hard, biting his lip as he threw his head back, the loudest moan coming from him all night leaving his lips, but you couldn't even run your hands on him.

You unintentionally bucked your hips up everytime Jungkook clenched around you. He was doing it on purpose, you knew that, but what was even more frustrating was that he would push your hips back down when you did. Your moans were so messy, and all you could do was watch him do whatever he wanted. "Jungkook, please let me touch you-!" You moaned, your eyes pleading with his, "Please, please, baby boy. Please, oh god, please uncuff me, I need to touch you so bad-"

"You wanna touch me, Hyung?" Jungkook asked, the fabricated innocence mixed with the moan making it so hard for you to concentrate. His pace moved to a roll of his hips, he was so longer riding you like he was chasing an orgasm, but he was slowly grinding on you with his nails digging into your chest, "Wanna fuck me at your own tempo? You're so impatient, Hyung~"

You arched your back ever so slightly with a moan spewing from your lips. He was so good at this, and you hated it. A month and a half seemed to be enough for him to know what you like. Your hips snapped up when Jungkook clenched around you, but he immediately pushed you back down with his hands, giving you a smirk. You pouted, "Jungkook, please."

"Only if–" He started, a his own shattered moan cutting him off as he did, but nonetheless continuing, "–Only if you promise me that you'll take me on a date."

You barely took a second to think, pulling on the cuffs and too fixated on Jungkook clenching around your cock, "I promise–fuck– I'll take you on a date, baby boy."

Jungkook grinded faster, and you felt his thighs clench at your agreement, "Are you just saying that to cum, Hyung? Or do you like me as much as I like you?"

You locked eyes with him, your worn expression had a smirk on it, "Uncuff me and I'll show you how much I like you, baby boy."

Jungkook leaned over carefully, taking the key from under his pillow to bring it to the middle of the headboard where your hands were. Your wrists had a clear contrast from all the pulling, making Jungkook smile a bit. He leaned to unlock the cuffs.

The cuffs were unlocked, but still on your hands when you flipped him over, an unexpected yelp leaving Jungkook as he was now under you. Your hands bouncing his wrists to the sides of his head with a smirk on your lips. "[Y/N]-"

"That's Hyung to you, baby boy." You said, leaning down to place rough kissed along his jaw, making Jungkook moan in delight, "Teasing me like that wasn't smart, baby. Are you even sure you'll be able to walk properly before our date?"

Jungkook whined, letting out an airy chuckle, "Depends. Are you gonna punish me, Hyung?"

#ahhhhh what did i do #jungkook x male reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts #bts jungkook #smut #jungkook x male reader smut #x male reader smut #bts smut #jimin #taehyung #bts x male reader #bts x male reader smut #jungkook smut

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sincerelyreidburke · 5 years ago

Text

won’t you lay me down

Hi, I wrote some CCU hurt/comfort fluff. I know that sounds like an oxymoron, but bear with me.

In which: Derek has a bad mental health day. Will has his back.

Also on ao3!

///

Will doesn’t see the text at first.

It’s not really his fault. Monday mornings are busy. After morning practice at 6:30 (Will likes that better than evening practice, and as captain he’s tried to keep the practice schedule relatively consistent), he has a meeting with Hall and Murray for thirty minutes while the rest of the team filters out to their respective morning activities and routines. It’s the last he sees of Derek until the afternoon, every Monday— because after Will’s meeting with the coaches, he’s straight off to his internship in Boston for the rest of the morning, then comes back to campus for his 2:30 CS 381 class.

So when the text comes in, he’s mid-transit from Boston to Samwell, sitting in traffic on 128. As a general rule, he doesn’t check his phone while driving. Also, why the fuck is there so much traffic in the middle of the day on a Monday.

He doesn’t understand Massachusetts drivers.

Anyway. It’s when he gets back to campus that he sees it, sitting in his lockscreen over the wallpaper of him and Derek.

18m ago

Derek: do u mind if i chill in the basement

Derek: can’t focus in my room, c is playing music

Oh. Will unlocks his phone, sitting in his student parking spot. He and Derek use each other’s rooms all the time, even outside of their constant sleeping-over in each other’s. Many a time has he returned from class, internship, or other obligation to find his boyfriend hanging out in the bungalow.

They have their own spaces in the Haus, but they do their fare share of, well. Sharing.

Sry just saw this , he sends back. Was drivung. Of cuorse you can use the basment

He looks at the text thread for a second, then sends a <3 after his message, and tucks his phone away again.

On to the next thing.

Class is sort of tedious today, but what’s worse than it is the actual trek back to the Haus from the compsci building, because it’s frigid outside, a chill that gets to his bones even in his winter jacket and the beanie he stole from Derek. In typical New England February fashion, it’s supposed to snow tonight, or at least that’s what he thinks he heard from someone at his internship this morning. He spent most of his shift working out a kink in his supervisor’s code, and he was lost in the numbers and symbols for hours.

He likes it. It’s satisfying to figure out a program.

When he reaches the Haus, finally , Whiskey and Ford are hanging out in the kitchen. He waves to them on his way by, then wonders if he should bake tonight. Maybe after his homework, he can make cookies. The pie he made this weekend is gone already, because all three of the freshmen were here yesterday, nothing he bakes lasts long in their presence.

Will heads straight downstairs, and the door to his room is closed; the lights inside look like they’re off. He eases it open, reaching for the light switch. Derek must have finished whatever he was doing.

Or— not.

Derek is here, and he can tell because he hears Dwayne Johnson singing. He freezes with his hand on the light-switch before he can turn it on, and steps all the way into the room instead, where he catches sight of him— or at least catches sight of what he knows is him, under several layers of cover.

Derek has burrowed himself into Will’s bed with his laptop, and he’s watching Moana , the light of the screen on his face the only source of any light in the room at all. He’s wearing Will’s Samwell hoodie, the good one with Poindexter and 24 and C on the sleeve, and its hood is pulled over his head, strings drawn to make his face look like a blue-lit mask poking out of it. He looks only half-invested in the movie, because he’s resting his face on his arm, scrunched up to the pillow.

Will’s stomach turns. Bedridden Derek in his stolen sweatshirt and Moana are a combination that can only mean one thing.

He closes the door, gently, behind himself. “Der?”

It appears that this is the first Derek actually notices that someone else has entered the room. Will hears the click of the space bar, and the Rock halts mid-chorus. “Oh,” comes Derek’s voice from his blanket cocoon, and it’s small and drawn, the opposite of his loud bravado. “Hey, babe.”

“Hi.” Will drops his backpack at the door, then goes directly to him, crouching on the steps that get him to the loft bed. “Hey,” he says, across the laptop. “Are you okay?”

Derek pauses. He purses his lips at his computer screen, then sighs and lowers it. “Ch’yeah,” he mumbles. “I’m alright.”

With the laptop closed, Will reaches for his face. He cups his stubbly cheek in one hand, runs his thumb across his cheekbone. Derek looks blank, drained. Will knows this demeanor well by now.

“No, you’re not,” he whispers. Without the light of the laptop, it’s nearly dark inside. The slivers of gray daylight from where Derek pulled the shade on the window are all that remain.

Derek breathes in like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. He nuzzles his face into Will’s pillow a little more.

“Der,” Will whispers. He kneels on the steps, pauses his thumb by Derek’s ear. “Gray day?”

Derek whimpers a little, like it pains him to admit it, but nods. “Yeah.”

Will keeps gentle. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks. “This morning?”

Derek bites his lip. “Didn’t feel it this morning.”

“Oh.” Will pauses. “When did it hit you?”

He closes his eyes. “When I got back to the Haus.”

Will frowns. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

Derek’s eyes are still closed. He shakes his head. “You couldn’tve known, babe.”

For a moment, the room is quiet. Will pushes Derek’s laptop aside a little. “What can I do?”

Derek takes his time, answering. Will is patient. He knows how to do this. He slides his hand into his curls under the hood; they’re matted, and they’ll be worse if he just lays in bed for the rest of the day. “You want to tie your hair?”

Derek takes a long breath.

“You don’t have to,” Will adds. “But if it’ll help you for later…”

“My scarf’s upstairs,” Derek mumbles, weakly, like upstairs is a continent away.

“It’s okay,” Will tells him. “I can get it, baby.”

Derek’s face contorts a little, like he’s about to cry, but he doesn’t; he just opens his eyes. His eye contact is distant, like he’s staring more into space than back at Will, but he’s trying, and Will knows that. “I love you,” he whispers, and then, “I don’t feel well.”

“I know,” Will hushes. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here.”

“I’m sorry,” Derek groans.

“Never be sorry,” Will says. “Ever.” He kisses his forehead, feather-light, and then tells him, “I love you too. And I’m gonna go get your scarf, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Derek winces again, like something hurts. He nods, though, slowly, and rests his cheek on the pillow again. Will pulls back to go, but God, it’s hard, because he knows how much Derek hates being alone when he feels like this, and he’s already been in here by himself for God knows how long—

Okay, he’ll only be gone a minute. But even so, he feels the need to fill that space. He climbs down to his bookshelf, reaches onto its center shelf between Derek’s poetry books, and grabs hold of his oldest friend.

“Here,” he whispers, bringing Cromwell up so Derek can see. “Do you want a friend?”

Derek eyes the plush lobster, and though he doesn’t look like he has an ounce of energy to smile, his eyes soften. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “Please.”

Will hands him over, and Derek engulfs the little red thing in his sea of blankets, resting him right under his nose. The visual would be cute, if Derek weren’t in such a bad spot. Will caresses his cheek again, then smooths the few curls that are poking out of the hood. “Be right back, baby,” he says. “Do you know where your scarf is?”

Derek pauses, then shakes his head.

“It’s alright,” Will assures him. “I’ll find it.”

This was hard, at first, being so new to this side of him, and not knowing how to help him. But they’ve been together for eight months, and Will knows Derek’s gray days by now, knows the tells for when he’s feeling down, knows a few remedies that help to ease the numbness.

He makes a beeline for Derek’s room upstairs as fast as his legs can carry him. The space itself is even evidence that Derek isn’t feeling himself; there are more clothes on the floor than usual, and the bed is unmade, and his desk looks like his notebook exploded. Will sifts through his dresser drawers, between Samwell shirts, pairs of gym shorts, random articles of Will’s own clothing that’ve been stolen, but there’s no sight of the green headscarf he wears sometimes to bed. He moves his search to the desk, and then to the actual bed, and he’s about to give up when he finds it tucked between the down comforter and the sheets.

Success. He heads back downstairs.

“Hey, Dex, is Nursey in your room?”

“Oh—” Will halts in the kitchen doorway. The question came from Ford; she’s still at the counter. “Yeah,” he replies, poking his head around the corner. Tango has now joined the kitchen gathering. “He’s just watching a movie.”

“Oh, cool.” Ford nods. “I just didn’t know if he was in the Haus. I thought I saw him go down there, like, two hours ago.”

“Yeah,” Will says, “he’s with me.”

Tango waves. “Hi, Dex!”

“Hey, Tango.” Will opens the basement stairs door.

Chowder knows this version of Derek as well as Will does, but the rest of the team doesn’t. It’s what’s buried under the chill, what he could never stand to let people know about himself.

Derek’s brain is awful to him sometimes.

Back in his room, he finally takes off his winter jacket and closes the door behind him, then climbs up the steps to his bed again. Derek is still snuggling with Cromwell, but his laptop has moved; he’s pushed it to the pouch adjacent to Will’s headboard where he keeps his phone, occasional book, and other random stuff while he sleeps.

Will unfolds the scarf. It’s silky smooth. “Gave up on Moana ?” he hums.

Derek rolls over and nods. Will kicks his sneakers off, then crawls onto the mattress, which squeaks a little under both their weight. He slides a hand under his back— Derek is very, very warm, but that’s the way he likes to be when he’s like this— and eases him up into a sitting position. “Sit up for me, babe?”

Derek moves with his touch, nice and easy, and when Will has him sitting up, he slots himself against his back, lets Derek lean on him. “You want me to talk?” he asks as he pulls the hood off his head. “Or do you like the quiet?”

Derek hums a little. “Talk. Please.”

“Okay.” Will combs through his curls, then pulls the scarf tight around them. He learned this on YouTube, after his third time hearing post-funk Derek lament that his depression was ruining his hair. “It’s supposed to snow,” he tells him. “Five inches.”

Derek groans. “Fuck that.”

“I know,” Will mumbles. “But if classes get cancelled, I’ll make cookies.”

“Mm.” Derek hums again, as Will pulls the knot at the back of his neck tight. “What kind?”

“Still deciding.” He hooks his arms around his neck, pulls him close, and kisses his cheek. “You can file a request, if you want.”

“Snickerdoodle.”

“Done.”

“Thank you.” Derek pauses. “For tying my hair.”

Will noses into his neck, drops a kiss there, and then moves back up to his face. “Of course, Der.” He turns him a little, cups his face in one hand. Derek still looks gray, and he looks, God, he looks so tired ; he always does when he’s like this, but it pains Will every time.

He wants to take every ounce of hurt away from him.

“What can I do?” he asks.

Derek takes a long breath while he thinks about it. His words, on these days, come slowly. “Um.” He nods to himself, like he’s thinking about it. “Do you have homework?”

Will shakes his head. “I have plenty of time to do it.”

“Okay.” Derek pauses, then, “Lay with me?”

“Yeah.” Will nods. “Ayuh. Of course.”

They wind up curled into the blanket pile, with Derek pressed tight against Will’s chest, a little further down the bed than him so he can tuck his face into his shoulder. Will presses a kiss to the top of his scarf, holds him as close as he can. He knows the pressure helps him, eases his brain a little. Cromwell rests on the pillow, somewhere near the both of them. He’s a little extra moral support.

“Thank you, Will,” Derek says, with an exhale, as he nuzzles into his chest.

“You’re welcome,” Will replies. “Always.”

“Mmf.” Derek wraps himself around him, arms and legs and all. His voice is muffled when he speaks again, but Will knows the words anywhere. “You and me.”

Will nods. “You and me.”

It’s a mantra and a promise. Hell or high water. Good days and gray ones.

“I’ve got you,” he tells him, and he’ll never let go.

#poindextears writes #ficlet #omgcp #omgcheckplease #omgcp fic #nurseydex #dexnursey #william poindexter #derek nurse #cromwell the stuffed lobster

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polymetis-23 · 3 years ago

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Diary Entry Sept. 26th, 2021

Day 1 - The hunt begins

I spent most of today working on updates to my hero gear based off the trial runs these past few weeks. First I removed the giant skirt from my costume and replaced it with a utility belt. Sure those might not have been the most iconic thing about steampunk but they tinkered a lot so I'm sure they were around plenty. I hope to make more gadgets as time goes on so this will be a good place to store them. For now it is a simple belt with pockets as found at hardware stores. I know, it's ugly and doesn't really fit and I wish I had time to be proper about it, but with The Eye out there it seems somethings will sadly have to be function over form.

In addition to adding the tool belt, I have been working on the wrist crossbows (told you I wouldn't forget about them). I've moved them down from the back of my hand to around my wrist and made the bow limbs out of a semi-bendable metal. They work like springs and shoot the dart out fairly fast … or at least that is the current theory, I've really only added the wrist strap, had to finish some homework.

As the sun started to set, it was finally time for me to find The Eye (seriously does anyone have a better name for this person?) I could've sworn I was in a movie. The sky was overcast but no rain and everything seemed eerily quiet. Without a better idea I started from where I last saw them, the eye was still on the wall and it didn't look like anyone had been home in a while, I hope she didn't kill him. Anyway, I wasn't about to break into someone's house because that is illegal so I sat on the roof and surveyed for any mysterious red lights. It may not have been the most efficient way to find them, but hey that red glow is the only thing I have to identify them at the moment, and well the eye. I saw a few flashes over the course of the night, and a few more eyes around the city. Some the crime was obvious, another breakin or general vandalism, but others a dark red eye was just on a wall, nothing around to denote why.

Day 2 - Uh yeah, exams are a thing

How, might I ask, are we in the third week of classes and I already have a quiz. Like seriously what are we supposed to have learned at this point? Even if they had taught us something, this is the absolute worst time, now I have to spend all day studying and I can't go out tonight. I was getting so close last night to actually catching up to The Eye. Sure I hadn't actually seen them, but I was getting quicker at navigating the city so the time between red flashes and my arrival at a scene was getting less and less, it was only a matter of time until I caught them.

Day 3 - Crossbow work

The forecast for today is rain, lots of rain all day and I don't really fancy going out and getting soaked or slipping and falling on my butt while hunting for Eye, so I guess today is a design day. It actually works out really well because now I will have the wrist bow ready for when I finally do encounter her. Next thing I need to work on is tranquilizer darts, I don't want to permanently hurt those I bring in, after all I'm not the judge, jury and executioner, I just bring people in to meet justice.

After today's tests the bow seems to be great … or at least manageable. I still need to improve the aiming, for some reason the bolts won't group together. And I need to make an automatic reloader attachment, I have plenty of darts held on the cuff, but it would be nice for the system to be semi automatic incase I miss a shot or more probably I am fighting more than one opponent and need to incapacitate them both in quick succession.

Day 4 - The Evil Eye

Finally a semi-free day. I was able to make a few small adjustments to my weaponry between classes then waited until dark to roam the streets. The clouds from yesterday blew by leaving not a trace and letting the nearly full moon illuminate the streets, although that could also be from light pollution … I guess it is good that I can see and not trip, but I would've liked to be able to see the stars.

The night started relatively calmly, I was finally getting used to the red haze that settled over the world when I used my goggles. If I ever learn how to actually code, I'll have to write a program to filter out the ambient light, but for now I would just have to let my eyes adjust. I got lucky in my positioning tonight, I hadn't seen any pattern in how The Eye chose their targets so I had decided to sit on a random tall roof top and was rewarded with a beam of red two blocks over. Although I had previously only seen an aura of red indicating The Eye's (this is gonna stick now isn't it?) presence, it wasn't hard to imagine that they had the ability to focus it.

I ran across the rooftops, which were thankfully connected, I'll have to figure something out for when they aren't. I guess I could run at street level but that is more crowded and less direct, plus heroes are known for leaping across roofs right? Regardless I soon arrived at where the beam had been and looked for the source. Below me on the street there was a fight going on and sure enough one of the combatants' hands were surrounded by an aura of red. Upon closer observation I was shocked to find out this wasn't a fight, it was a beating. The man The Eye was 'fighting' was just laying on the ground not even trying to defend themselves. It was clear to anyone watching that the fight was over and didn't need to be continued so why was The Eye still there? I called 911 and reported the situation so her victim could get some help. I doubted they would be moving by themselves any time soon.

After placing the call I turned my attention back to the street to apprehend The Eye myself, but they were already gone, an eye left on the ground above the injured man's head. I could already hear the sirens of the ambulance and knew he would be okay. I waited until the paramedics started treating him, then left. I spent the rest of the night searching for another sighting of The Eye to bring them in, but they seemed to have gone silent for the moment. I suppose I will have to try again tomorrow now that I had seen they were not only bad, they were straight up evil. Attacking someone for no reason at all.

Day 5 - The Conversation

So classes were normal today and nothing special happened except well, I finally got to talk with the eye. I went out a little earlier than I usually did planning on scoping out some of the roofs on campus. Although I was currently preoccupied taking down The Eye who seemed to operate across the river, I knew I would be coming back to stop crime on campus eventually. There is a really nice iconic roof space above the main lobby of campus where I was planning to start. Up there you can see all around campus, sure it wasn't the tallest building, but it did have a great view.

Anyway, I was up there planning to see what was what and keeping an eye out for any red flashes in the city when from behind I heard:

"I thought they blocked off all entrances to the roof" they had, I have just been practicing picking locks. Yes I know that skill is rarely used for anything good, but sometimes it can come in handy, like tonight with the door

I turned around expecting to see some other student, while it wasn't a common hang out spot, people definitely still came up here. Instead I was confronted with The Eye herself, what was she doing on this side of the river and at my school no less. Of course I immediately confronted her about her illegal activities and she scoffed at me. I mean she literally scoffed and called me naive, how am I naive when I saw her commit those crimes? Like seriously? It quickly became apparent that she wasn't remorseful at all and needed to be brought in. We had a brief altercation which I definitely nearly won if she hadn't taken a cheap shot and knocked me on my butt I would've had her. As it was I landed with a loud smack and was slightly dazed. The only sound I heard was "stay down, this isn't the world for you" When I got my bearings again, she was gone and I was alone on the roof.

I layed back down and stared at the sky. This is going to take more work than I thought, but I'm sure it can't be that much more.

Day 6 - A day to relax

Not much happened today, I ended up sleeping through my alarm which I guess is a natural consequence of staying up into the early hours of the night every day for a week. I did my laundry, bought a few groceries and sloughed through some homework and … that was about it.

Day 7 - Coding is still the worst

So I have a problem set due for my coding class and I swear this class should be worth twice the amount of credit listed on the syllabus based on how long it takes me to write a 'simple' program. I guess I am learning some things because I can follow the code examples given in class, but I definitely can't recreate them. I'm gonna need to find another way to code my goggles or get someone to do it for me. Superheroes have a man in the chair right?

I eventually got the problem set turned in and started to draft ideas for the semi-automatic wristbow, still very rudimentary though.

#fiction #oc #writeblr #writing #vigilant series

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firewoodfigs · 5 years ago

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Summary: Roy thought this was fine. Perfectly acceptable, in fact. Stolen, furtive kisses over daybreak and evening-time tasting of ginger tea and caffeine; the occasional quiet embrace or two filled with warmth and suppressed ardour. Little indulgences like these were enough to keep them hanging on to each other, to their shared resolve.

“... her eyelids flutter, her breath hitches, and Roy thinks there’s nothing more exquisite than the taste of her. Her morning coffee lingers within. Two spoonfuls of sugar, but it is the indiscernible hum in her throat that sweetens the kiss.”

(for @royaiweek day 5: picture prompt - lovers at sunset; part 6 of Royai Week 2020. thank you mods for the wonderful week! 💕)

~x~

It happened once, on Miss Hawkeye’s thirteenth birthday. Roy had overheard from some of her peers as he was making his way back from a trip to the nearby grocer’s that it was that strange girl’s birthday, and did you see, she didn’t receive any presents - does she even have any friends?

In truth, it wasn’t difficult to figure out why she was friendless. From the little time he’d spent with her in the Hawkeye’s manor she wasn’t the nicest person around. Roy had tried to approach her a few times in the spirit of the good Samaritan, but any attempts at friendliness had been met with hostility. Like that one time he saw her swinging alone on the makeshift swing in their backyard. He had offered to push her on the swing, but she’d pushed him in the chest instead before disappearing back to her room. Or the other time he’d offered to help her with her chemistry homework when he saw her struggling with a permanent scowl etched on her features, in which she had merely stormed off after remarking angrily that she didn’t need an arrogant city boy like him rubbing it in her face.

… Like he said, Miss Hawkeye wasn’t the nicest person around.

Nevertheless, in spite of her antagonism, Roy liked to believe that she was an inherently good person somewhere deep down, if one looked hard enough. Really hard. He’d seen her feed leftovers to the dogs that visited their backyard occasionally though she barely had enough to eat for herself. The Hawkeyes’ abject poverty also meant that food was scarce, but even then she always made sure he got the bigger portion instead.

(Of course, he had tried - multiple times, in fact - to insist otherwise, but any resistance he put up was only met with a baleful glare and a stiff upper lip.)

For the most part, therefore, he was content to leave her alone, and she generally seemed to prefer dogs to people anyway. His days were filled with studying and thick tomes and incomprehensible codes, and Roy was focused on becoming a remarkable, respectable alchemist. One that his aunt would be proud of. Any spare time he had was typically dedicated to trawling through the awfully dusty library in the Hawkeyes’ estate for research and reading.

But this was different.

Birthdays were special, sentimental, as his sisters had indoctrinated in him from the time he’d learnt how to count. Enough to count their birthdays, they claimed. Roy therefore felt terrible at the thought of her spending it alone, without so much as a single gift or birthday wish. From the little he’d gleaned from her relationship with Master Hawkeye it was clear that the man didn’t pay much attention to her, and he found himself wondering if his Master even remembered that it was his daughter’s birthday.

Sadly, his theory was proven right over lunch.

As usual, Miss Hawkeye had been the one to prepare their meals. While he wanted to help, the kitchen felt a little like Miss Hawkeye’s untouchable holy ground - except for the fact that even the removal of his shoes wouldn’t permit him to enter. He ended up waiting awkwardly in the living room, pretending to be engrossed in a thick alchemical tome for the rest of the afternoon amidst sizzling pans and fragrant spices.

When lunch was ready, they ate together as a trio, but neither Master Hawkeye or Miss Hawkeye made any mention of her birthday.

It was just like any other normal day - tense, quiet and sombre.

Afterwards, he returned to his studies, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his gut, but not from Miss Hawkeye’s cooking. Lunch had been fine - great, in fact. Her culinary skills were fantastic, second only to his aunt’s and sisters’. Miss Hawkeye didn't seem to react well to compliments, though, so he smartly refrained from singing her praises.

Alone in his room, the mangled mix of emotions only multiplied tenfold. He'd tried to distract himself with the textbooks strewn across his table, on his bed, but it failed. Nothing could pacify the guilt that had been gnawing at him.

Roy sat upright on his bed, pillow to his chest as he thought long and hard about Miss Hawkeye’s birthday.

He didn’t even know what she liked, and he most certainly didn’t want her to feel like he was lording his money over her. Ordinarily, he might have gifted his sisters with a handmade card, but he didn’t know her well enough to know the words to write. Saying thank you for being so kind and loving all the time didn’t seem to sit well for some reason, and given how sharp she was she would probably see through the lie.

So perhaps something that didn’t cost him anything, and didn’t require him to pen down his thoughts (because really, it was hard to have that many thoughts about a person who barely said much to him) would work best.

A piece of driftwood, or flowers plucked from a nearby bush, maybe?

But those sounded absurd, even to him, and he failed to see what purpose Miss Hawkeye had for those things. Maybe a place he could bring her to?

Then, it hit him like an epiphany. Of course.

He had recently discovered, during one of his recent trips to the forest when he’d been tasked by his Master to collect firewood, that there was a secret hideout that lay within. Oddly enough, that particular corner was unshrouded by trees, and the sunsets there were exceptionally breathtaking - especially when the sunlight refracted off the clear, emerald lake in the middle of the little sanctuary. Occasionally, Roy would take a short break on the abandoned bench to admire the view and empty his mind of the vicissitudes of life that plagued a fifteen-year-old. But the bench was large enough for two, and he sometimes yearned for a companion who could enjoy the scenery with him…

And now, Miss Hawkeye could.

He grinned excitedly as he sprinted over to her room, though when he arrived the wooden door suddenly seemed rather... intimidating.

But Roy was determined to make sure that Miss Hawkeye had a decent birthday, at least. Such occasions were not meant to be spent in isolation, in bitter solitude.

He would not falter.

Taking a deep breath, he mustered all the courage in him and finally knocked on her door, mentally rehearsing what he was going to say. Why am I getting so nervous, anyway? It’s not even a date -

She opened the door to stare at him quizzically. “Uh… hi,” he stuttered. Words eluded him.

“May I help you, Mr. Mustang?”

“Ah, yes... Would you mind taking a stroll with me?” With that one question the look of curiosity on her face was quickly morphing into scepticism, distrust.

“What for?”

“It’s your birthday, right?”

Now she was most definitely suspicious. “... How did you know?”

He gulped. “I… overheard some… things…” he finished lamely. “Anyway, I just wanted to give you a little gift, that’s all.” The large, overbearing grandfather clock in the hallway signalled that it was about five o’clock in the afternoon, and if they went now the timing would be perfect. “Nothing weird, I just wanted to show you a place. If you don’t mind?”

Miss Hawkeye scrutinised him carefully, as if searching for any hint of deception. He kept his palms open, pupils dilated in earnest, and gave his most charming, sincere smile.

When she was finally satisfied that he was being honest, she relented. “... Okay. But not for long, I have to be back to prepare dinner.”

He smiled sunnily at her in response. “Of course, Miss Hawkeye. Shall we go?” She nodded in agreement before following him quietly, and he was thankful for the relatively comfortable silence that had settled between them as they walked through the forest.

Miss Hawkeye was quite a sight to behold, he realised. The sunlight that crept through the dense crowd of trees cast a charming light on her stoic but pretty countenance, and in the forest she seemed a lot more relaxed; a childlike innocence and joy twinkling in her golden eyes. Her skirt billowed gracefully along with the falling leaves that frolicked in the autumn breeze, but despite her attire she moved lithely; feet shuffling through detritus with disconcerting familiarity and ease like she’d done this before.

Eventually, they arrived at their destination. A light sheen of sweat was beginning to form on their foreheads, but they found, much to their delight, that the sun was starting to set in brilliant shades of aureate and tangerine. Roy tugged at her wrist gently to lead her to the bench, to which she shyly obliged, settling them both onto their respective seats. “Here we are. Lovely, isn’t it?”

“It is. I’ve been here before, actually,” she said, fingers fiddling idly with the hem of her skirt as she gazed at the picturesque scene ahead, lulled by the sighs of the water and the gently rocking waves before them.

Roy was a little taken aback by this new revelation. “How did you know about this place?”

Miss Hawkeye’s fingers continued to pick at the threads, and he wondered how they hadn’t come loose by this point. “My mother used to bring me here, too, a long time ago,” she murmured softly, a brittle sort of reverence in her voice.

He stiffened, fervently hoping he hadn’t offended her in some way by bringing her here. “I… I’m sorry, Miss Hawkeye, if this place brings back bad memories.”

She shook her head, but though her lips were beginning to curve upwards in a small smile there was a poignant look in her eyes, like she was reminiscing a distant memory that could never be recreated. “No, it’s not like that. I just… it’s a nice place.”

“It is,” Roy echoed. The silence that had dawned upon them suddenly felt very awkward to him. He swallowed nervously, but decided to ignore the thoughts swimming in his head. Instead, he continued to stare at the sunset that was unfurling in front of them, silently hoping that Miss Hawkeye enjoyed her birthday gift.

“Thank you for bringing me here, Mr. Mustang,” she whispered, legs swinging in tandem with the water’s rhythm.

It broke him out of his reverie. Roy was delighted with the small affirmation that she did like her present, after all. He turned to look at her again, and was mesmerised by how tender she looked, saturated in orange. “Roy.”

“What?”

“Please, call me Roy.”

“... Okay.”

“Can I… can I call you Riza?” He asked, hoping she wouldn’t behead him there and then in the middle of the forest. She nodded imperceptibly while keeping her eyes ahead. Roy couldn’t tell if it was the sunset glow that painted her cheeks in the subtlest shade of scarlet, or if it was a blush.

Either way, he beamed, happy with the progress they had made. “Happy birthday, Riza.”

This time, the smile reached her eyes. Roy’s heart began to pulsate in his throat. He felt his breath being taken away, but he was unsure if it was because of the breathtaking scene in front of them or something else. For while the sunlight continued to scatter glittering diamonds on smaragdine, the sparkles dancing in her ochre eyes suddenly seemed infinitely more fascinating.

In front of them, their shadows began to lengthen with the sun’s movement, before slowly merging into one.

~x~

“What’s on your mind, sir?”

“Nothing, just appreciating the sunset,” Roy chuckled. After regaining his vision, he’d come to rediscover an appreciation for simple things that he might have previously taken for granted. But while the sight of the setting sun engulfing the tall buildings in Central was rather glorious in its own way, it paled in comparison to the warm, fulgent rays delicately kissing his Captain, painting her lovely visage in a warm, tender gold.

Roy often found himself wishing that he could be the one kissing her there and then instead during moments like these. Quite unfortunately, though, any semblance of a relationship they shared would have to remain strictly confidential. Their duty to make reparations took precedence over anything else, and in any case the anti-fraternisation laws were still in place.

Dating like two normal civilians were therefore prerogatives that they did not have.

But this was fine. Perfectly acceptable, in fact. Stolen, furtive kisses over daybreak and evening-time tasting of ginger tea and caffeine; the occasional quiet embrace or two filled with warmth and suppressed ardour. Little indulgences like these were enough to keep them hanging on to each other, to their shared resolve.

Anything beyond that - holy matrimony, domesticity and normalcy, perhaps a family of three - probably teetered dangerously close on the precipice of avarice.

This too, shall suffice. Roy ran a hand through his unkempt hair, as if doing so would quell his desires, before turning to give her a soft smile. A conspiratorial whisper, one that only she could hear. “And you.”

“I see,” she replied impassively, although the gears in her brain were already clicking as memories of her thirteenth birthday flashed behind her eyes. Speaking of sunsets and birthdays…

Of course, it didn’t escape her that Roy’s birthday was coming up soon, the same way his daily schedule was never a mystery to her. Birthdays weren’t a particularly special occasion to Riza, but Roy liked to make it so.

She smiled gently as she observed fire dancing in obsidian, suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude that his schedule was mercifully empty for the next few days.

Perhaps a trip to Tobha is in order.

~x~

The train ride to Tobha was one filled with companionable silence as vast conglomerations of buildings faded past them into rustic fields and lush valleys of green. Roy picked indolently on a slice of cake that the train staff had kindly provided for their journey. Whether this was a surprise of sorts from his beloved Captain, he wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t help chuckling at the memory of almost-begging a young girl to follow him somewhere on her birthday nearly decades ago.

The close proximity between them now reminded him of that memory - the first time he’d inched so close to her without a looming death threat. But now, sitting so close to one another felt like second nature. Wherever they went, his feet always somehow drew him subconsciously nearer to her, and vice versa; revolving around each other like planets in orbit. In some ways, he supposed their presence had the effect of pulling each other in like gravity.

Slowly, he encroached into her personal space to lean his head on her shoulder. Then, he took her right hand in his (hers were smaller, colder) and ran a thumb gently across her knuckles, committing every callused ridge and line to memory to reassure himself again that this wasn’t a dream. That she was well and alive before his very eyes; eyes that could see once more.

“What are you doing, sir?” Riza muttered under her breath, an accusation and a protest. She’s a little embarrassed by how overtly affectionate he was despite the cabin’s privacy.

Roy, on the other hand, could care less.

“There’s no one else here,” he whined, like he was fifteen again. “And it’s my birthday, so let me have this privilege, please?”

She doesn’t bother deigning him with a verbal response. But with a free hand, she cards through his unkempt hair, and Roy feels the faint thrumming of a quickening pulse as she does so. He grins triumphantly to himself before allowing the inconsistent rhythm to lull him to sleep. It’s the most peaceful slumber he’s had in months: he dreams of gossamer webs and sunsets in autumn, reliving a treasured adventure, a cherished memory.

It’s short-lived, though. Soon enough, he’s awoken by her shoulders shrugging against his neck. “We’re here, sir.”

Roy places a finger on her lips. “Please call me Roy,” he requests politely, mirth and nostalgia dancing in his eyes as she rolls hers.

“Fine, Roy. Shall we go?” Roy can’t help but let out an unbridled, wholehearted laugh. It feels a little like a fairytale told in reverse, he thinks. One that he doesn’t mind countless retellings of.

“Of course, Miss Hawkeye,” he replied, intertwining his fingers as they got off the train. She grumbled at his idiocy, but was nonetheless thankful for the lack of prying eyes in this isolated, raffish town.

Together they walk to the forest, hand in hand, and with a quick glance at his pocket watch Roy realises it’s five. The perfect time to watch the sunset. Roy already has a rather accurate idea of where they’re going, but nonetheless obliges - teasingly, of course - when Riza tells him to close his eyes as they pass through magnificent woodland. The smell of wood and damp earth makes for a cornucopia of childhood innocence, one that he’s more than happy to immerse himself in.

“Close your eyes, Roy.”

“Or what, you’ll blindfold me? I didn’t know you were into stuff like -”

“On second thought, maybe I’ll just knock you out myself.” Riza glares at him, feeling like he’s just ruined the magic of the moment with his predilection for bad jokes.

Roy laughs again before complying, lifting his hands to cover his eyes. As he peeks through the infinitesimal gaps, he sees her shaking her head in exasperation, but the slightest hint of amusement makes itself known in the form of a subtle smile.

“Okay, now follow me.” Riza says, and he does. It’s easy to follow her. Roy knows her so well by this point that he understands every change in pitch, every hitch of her breath, every tug at his arm like simple chemistry.

(There’s an electrifying chemistry in the air between them, and he wishes he could seal it with a kiss right there and then.)

Patience, patience.

“I’ll follow you into hell if you wish, Riza,” he opts for teasing her again, and though his eyes are closed, he can already envisage her scowl in his mind.

Regardless, she’s still a sight to behold, as she’d been as a thirteen-year-old.

“We’re here,” she announces a little excitedly, breathily. Instinctively, Roy removes his hands from his eyes to cover her open palm instead.

Tugging at her wrist gently, he leads her towards a wooden bench that’s all too familiar. It’s a little weather-beaten by time and rain, but sturdy all the same: it supports their weight comfortably as they sit, bodies adjacent to each other. Their shadows merge once more as the sun bathes their silhouette in crimson and orange. Roy pulls her in with an arm and relishes in the contact, sneaking a glance at her every so often while she watches the sunset unfold.

Before them, the vivid blaze began to soften into a gentle lilac as the lake drowned out the final vestiges of the sun. Any worries and sins and tragedies that might have plagued them receded like a spectre with the setting sun to give them a moment of undisturbed quietude. It’s incredible to watch, and Roy might have been fascinated by the show if he wasn’t so entranced by the way it reflected in Riza’s eyes; the scarlet mottling her cheeks (he’s pretty sure it’s a blush this time).

Lost in admiration, Roy doesn’t even notice that the enormous sky above them has turned a deep, dark blue until she points out that the first star of the night has appeared.

“Could be Venus instead of a star,” he muses out loud.

“You really have an uncanny ability to spoil things, Roy,” Riza frowns.

“Well, in Roman mythology, Venus was the goddess of love and beauty, and also sex and fertility...”

“... Let’s narrow it down to the goddess of love. Your point being?”

Her question is pure rhetoric at this point as she turns to look at him. Their noses bump against each other’s, but neither makes a move to withdraw. Roy leans in closer, nearer, the same way there was no distance separating their hearts.

Finally, their lips touch, and it feels a little like stars are being born in the enormous universe above them. It starts off tentative, gentle. Riza runs her hands tenderly through a crown of raven black to draw him deeper into the kiss, decades of pining and memories and love unfurling beneath them. It continues like a slow waltz, as though they had all the time in the world, but soon it quickens into a passionate, heated dance as they open their mouths to offer an invitation to explore charted territory. Her eyelids flutter, her breath hitches, and Roy thinks there’s nothing more exquisite than the taste of her. Her morning coffee lingers within. Two spoonfuls of sugar, but it is the indiscernible hum in her throat that sweetens the kiss.

“Happy birthday, Roy,” she whispers after they pull apart.

“Not Mr. Mustang?” Roy manages to quip, a little breathless himself.

Riza sniggers good-naturedly. Idiot. “No, sir.”

He flashes her a smile, one of bittersweet understanding, before leaning in to press his forehead against hers. “Let me savour this moment for a bit more before we get back to business, Riza.”

“Of course, Roy.” She supposed they could afford just this one moment of indulgence before resuming their roles as Brigadier General and Captain.

At the very least, we’ll have these hours of glory to keep our hearts alight, alive.

#royaiweek20 #royai #royai fic #young royai #secret relationship hehe #we're all saps for royai here #finally figured out how to share fics from ao3 onto Tumblr LOL #pls lmk if there are any grammatical errors my brain is not working anymore

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joaquinwhorres · 5 years ago

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The Fool (Ch. 2) {Fred Weasley x F!OC}

SUMMARY ››››› After getting tangled up with the Weasley Twins during the events of the Quidditch World Cup, Wren Collings’ life takes a turn for the chaotic. It threatens everything she has going for her, but she’s not convinced that’s entirely a bad thing.

PAIRING ››››› Fred Weasley x Female OC

WORD COUNT ››››› 7,000-ish

WARNINGS ››››› There is no depression or mental health issues in this story, but there are mentions of death, violence, abuse, some PTSD, etc. As most of the specific warnings revolve around major plot points or are found throughout most chapters, I’m just going to rate certain chapters on the movie scale. This is chapter PG-13.

A/N ››››› This chapter is dedicated to my lovely friend Emma. You KNOW why.

Series Masterlist | Read on ff.net

Wren wasn’t sure who was right, if it was Simon or the cards or her gut feeling about this year: all she knew for sure was that NEWT classes, and not the Triwizard Tournament, would be the death of her.

The last part was a bit of a disappointment, not so much that she wanted to die in a blaze of glory, but she would have at least liked the chance. Sadly, her June birthday saw to the fact that she would be a supporter and not a competitor.

Her small silver lining (more dull grey than a true silver) was that it was one less thing to worry about on top of her classes. McGonagall’s warning when passing over her time table that this year would have a “demanding workload” was apparently code for “grueling affair with death itself.”

Transfiguration, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts seemed fixated on killing her through the traditional means of excessive school work, but the rest seemed to approach her death in a more “hands on” manner.

Herbology seemed intent on strangulation as Professor Sprout has decided to begin with snargaluffs and venomous tentacula. Dodging the slippery and spiky spines soon became second nature.

Hagrid has decided to introduce them to, if not venomous, exceedingly dangerous animals. Currently the class was in the process of telling jokes to Fwoopers as an alternative method to the silencing charm. Leave it to Hagrid to find out that they just click their beak when laughing. Of course, the untraditional method had already put Kenneth Towler and Amina Qureshi into the hospital wing to treat their minor insanity. But, all things considered it was a nice reprieve.

For its part, Potions had started off the year with poisons and their antidotes, which while extremely fascinating was somewhat nerve racking. Wren was fairly certain that at some point Snape would attempt to poison her as the lone Gryffindor in NEWT level potions. That minor fear, in addition to her particular love for the magic, drove her to devoting most of her studying hours to the class.

Which seemed to come in handy now as Snape began to pass out his unannounced quiz to the class. To Wren's surprise and mild relief, it was not a practical quiz but instead a written one. She assumed this was in an attempt to catch out students with trick questions which could otherwise be avoided as long as their potions worked.

In fact, as Wren reached question four, she was sure of it:

I am called in to the Hospital Wing once again because a careless Herbology student has failed to properly cork the juice of a Venomous Tentacula and has gotten some on their skin. What condition do I find him in, and how will I cure it?

She remembered this one as it had been a precaution Professor Sprout had failed to give them. She had simply instructed them not to let any get on their skin, and it was only in potions that Snape had revealed why. It had been more of a side comment in his lecture antidotes for the plant's other means of attack: bite, spike, and venom.

The student will be a bright shade of purple, and depending on how much juice he has come in contact with, complain of a faint burning sensation. The student should also feel quite embarrassed about their negligence. No antidote is truly needed except time which will hopefully make them more careful. Should you choose to cure them, however, the quickest effective cure would be a tincture of muddled fluxweed, shredded boomslang skin, and leech juice. The student will be extremely pale instead for a few days, but it might be preferable to the purple colour.

Wren reread her answer and felt that all loopholes were closed before she moved on to the next question.

A student suddenly collapses in the middle of class during last hour and slowly turns to stone. She has come into contact with no plants or creatures and eaten and drank of nothing since lunch. What were they poisoned with and what is the antidote?

Wren twirled her quill in her hands. Come into contact with nothing but suddenly turned into stone. They could have seen a basilisk? No, that only petrified people, it didn't turn them into stone. Could they have a Gorgon run into their class? Unlikely unless the student was in the Grecian Isles. And that was a sudden turning. This student slowly turned into stone.

It hit her, thinking of islands. Naghinbato Brew.

The student was likely dosed with Naghinbato Brew during their lunch. This poison is undetectable aside from its slight tang and it takes approximately four hours to begin affecting the person poisoned. If the student was lucky enough to fall over with her mouth open, a Wiggenweld potion with some Mandrake roots brewed in after the salamander's blood would reverse the effects. If not, an Adarna must be brought in to sing the student awake.

The remainder of the questions proved to be more and more tricky so that by the end Wren hoped for nothing but essays and practical exams for the rest of the year. The wording of each question proved difficult to navigate and at the end as she packed up her bag to leave for Defense Against the Dark Arts, she found herself casting a look at Snape who had begun to grade the quizzes and looked very much like he had just smelled something unpleasant.

Wren turned and headed out the door, eager to put the past hour behind her.

"Hey, Wren." Quick footsteps caught up to her as Cedric appeared to her left. As the only Hufflepuff in Potions, the pair had taken to sitting together as the sole representatives of their respective houses. Wren had to admit, she hadn't expected to see him on the first day of class. Nora had always claimed he was brilliant, but it had never quite shown through in any of the classes they had together. "How do you think it went?" Cedric asked, adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

Wren shook her head. "I don't know. Has he even taught us any antidotes involving the dirt of a child's grave? Or was that just a veiled threat?"

Cedric chuckled. "They use it against Amnetias."

"Of course," Wren moaned.

"What combination of poisons did you list as the components for that last one. I got Angel's Trumpet Draught but what caused the vertigo?

"I said Syrup of Hellebore."

Cedric winced. "Missed that one."

"Your antidote could still work," Wren shrugged, making her way up the stairs as Cedric walked behind her. The two of them pressed close to the walls as a flood of nervous looking Hufflepuff first-years descended down the stairs. Poor kids.

"Not likely," Cedric said. "I used a creature-based remedy for the vertigo."

"Ah well," Wren sighed. "At least we'll all get D's together." Cedric laughed at this and they continued the rest of the way up. The two exited the stairwell, heading towards the classroom that had been the talk of the school recently.

Quite frankly, Dumbledore should have hired an ex-Auror much sooner. Professor Lupin had been good--loads better than Lockhart or Quirrell, or Merlin-forbid, the ghoulish woman Wren had her first year--but Moody, he had lived this. His very first lesson for all of the students 4th through 6th year had been showing the Unforgiveable Curses. Today they were supposed to be practicing resisting the Imperius Curse. This was real education.

Wren entered the classroom, peeling off from Cedric who walked over towards where Nora was sitting with their other Hufflepuff friends. Instead Wren sat at the desk across the aisle from her dorm mates-- Angelina and Alicia.

It was pitiful how quickly Wren had given into the Imperius Curse.

Unsurprisingly, Fred Weasley had been the longest hold out, beating George by a full twenty seconds. Wren suspected it had something to do with their natural inclination to ignore any given directive, but Lee Jordan hadn't done as well as Angelina, and she was by far the most rule-abiding in their friend group.

Wren spent a good portion of the rest of her week practising fortifying herself against being Imperiused so as not to embarrass herself the next lesson.

Her timing wasn't much better.

She largely chalked this up to mental exhaustion after the previous afternoon's brutal double Potions lesson. Snape had clearly been seeking retribution for the class's quiz scores. While Wren had managed to earn an E on hers, it seemed the rest of the class had not been so careful reading the questions if Snape's rant about their inattention to the finer details and nuances of potion making was any indication.

So, after that lesson on Wednesday, being Imperiused on Thursday, and failing to to transfigure her raccoon on Friday, Wren felt completely spent and ill prepared for the mountain of homework awaiting her this weekend.

"I'm not going to survive NEWT classes," Wren griped, laying her head down on her arm and giving her eyes a rest from her Charms textbook, instead gazing at a sideways Simon who looked up at her from across the table.

"You're not going to die," he shook his head, returning his eyes to his parchment. "Nora didn't read it in your cards."

Wren rolled her eyes at the sarcastic joke and propped her head back up on her palm. She might have been more annoyed at the lack of sympathy if it weren't for the fact that she brought up how busy and stressed she was each time he saw her. It was a miracle he put up with her, really. She doubted anyone else would.

"You're right," she agreed. "But, a study break couldn't hurt. We've got ten minutes 'til dinner. Plenty of time to pack up and go to our corner..." She dropped her hand and leaned towards him. Simon looked up from his work again, this time giving her a small smile as he came forward and kissed her gently and far, far too briefly. He sat back into his chair, leaving Wren hovering over the center of the table.

"I wish we could," he sighed, picking up his quill. "Truly." His eyes raked down her face to the opening of her blouse. Wren's face heated up, and she returned to her chair. "But I have to get this done. My weekend's packed as is, and they rescheduled Wizard's Chess Club to tonight so I already have less time than usual."

Wren pouted "I know," she said, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "I just miss you is all. I haven't seen you all week."

It hadn't been that either of them was avoiding the other--this year it just seemed like their time tables filled up too quickly with barely enough room to squeeze in each other. Each of their classes seemed to meet at opposite times so they never had a free period together. Time after dinner was largely devoted to clubs, homework, studying, and prefect duties with the weekends looking largely the same with the addition of Simon's commitments to his Ravenclaw friends and tutoring of younger students. The only small bit of time they had together during the week was the hour right before dinner on Fridays.

"Wren," Simon said, his voice taking on a slight edge. "I'm doing my best, ok?"

Wren's cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. She hadn't meant to insinuate that he wasn't. She wanted to whine about how Hogwarts seemed to be plotting against them, not whine about him.

"It's my seventh year. I sit NEWTs in June. If you think professors are giving you too much, just wait 'til next year. It's all I can do to keep my head above the water. Between that and my duties," he paused, running a hand through his hair and breaking off the sentence. "When we meet to study, all I can do is study. I want to spend time with you, but I can't afford to just muck about this year."

Wren nodded, sinking back into her chair. She needed to stop complaining. She needed to make the most of their time together. She needed to remember the lessons she had learned from her parents' own marriage dynamic of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. That the Ravenclaw would always focus on the goals and achievements, but couldn't function without the Gryffindor by their side. He did need her. He did want her. She had to just get over this.

This wasn't last year.

For the remainder of their time together, the pair worked in silence. Or, at least, Simon worked. Wren re-read the same paragraph out of her textbook three different times. The silence continued even as they packed up to go to dinner and most of the way down the corridor.

Suddenly Simon tugged Wren by the arm to the side of the hall, the movement leading her to gasp in surprise. He stood before her for a second, looking down at his shoes. "I'm sorry," he apologized, dropping his hand from her arm to hold her hand. "I'm just stressed."

Wren nodded quietly, her eyes also on his navy blue and white wing tips.

"I already hate how little we get to see each other, and when you brought it up--it felt like you were trying to make me feel guilty. And it worked."

"I wasn't trying," Wren said, smally. "I was being honest."

Simon tucked a finger under her chin, tilting it up so he could press another kiss to her lips. This one was far harder than the one in the library, and soon his hands moved to her waist and behind her neck, pulling her against him. Wren's brain had just caught up with the moment, allowing her to tug at the front of his robes when he broke away and leaned his forehead against hers. Tingles still raced to her nerve endings as her body buzzed from the kiss. Simon's kisses always seemed to linger--or perhaps, echo was the right word. The sweetness of the library had lasted longer than the kiss, and the dizziness of this kiss…

"We'll figure it out, ok?" Simon asked. "It's the beginning of the year. Once things settle, we'll find more time."

Wren hummed in agreement, kissing him quickly and chastely before following him off towards dinner.

Weekends hardly felt like the weekend anymore. No time with Simon. No sightings of Nora. Even her dorm mates were out of the Gryffindor tower in various parts of the castle. Everything seemed to pass in a blur. One moment she was eating breakfast on Saturday morning, and the next it was Sunday evening and she was hunched over a stack of Transfigurations books in a corner of the common room. Wren sighed as a fifth year boy burst out laughing as an Exploding Snap tower blew up in his friend's face. The noise was getting too much for both her concentration and her nerves, so, gathering up her books, she retreated up to her dorm, spreading out the materials on her bed.

An hour later, she jolted awake to the door flying open. Wren's pulse raced as she extracted her cheek from the page of her textbook and blinked around to see what had happened. Alicia stood just inside, tears streaming down her face. She also seemed surprised to see Wren, half sitting up amongst her materials with her hair sticking to her face.

"Oh, hullo, Wren," she greeted, hastily wiping at her eyes while studiously avoiding Wren's gaze.

Wren lifted herself up to a seating position, her face creasing in worry. She wished she had Nora's natural instinct to know what to do in situations like this. Did she ask questions? Pretend like she didn't notice the tears? Leave?

"Hi," Wren said gently.

Alicia walked over to her bed, bending over to pull off her shoes. She succeeded in unlacing one and threw it to the floor with much more aggression than the shoe could possibly have deserved.

"Are you all right?" Wren asked dumbly, cringing the second the question came out of her mouth. It was exceedingly obvious, even to her, that Alicia was very much not all right.

"I'll be ok," Alicia brushed aside, fighting with the other shoe.

"Ok," Wren nodded, despite the fact that Alicia still refused to look at Wren.

"Is Angelina around?" Alicia's voice came out tight and high.

Wren winced. "I think she's in the library with Lee."

Alicia nodded, evidently not trusting her voice for a response.

"If you'd like, I'll fetch her," Wren offered. Because that was the decent thing to do right? That was the right solution? Before she could get a response, Wren hedged her bets. "But also if you want, I'm a decent listener."

"It's stupid," Alicia dismissed, despite the fact that her voice seemed to crack around the word.

"Given the fact that I haven't seen you cry more than twice over the past six years, I doubt that."

"It's just...boys are morons," Alicia sat down on her bed, and Wren got up from hers, humming in agreement with Alicia's statement as she crossed the room, sinking down into the bed next to her dorm mate. She lifted her arm to put it around Alicia's shoulders before moving to pull her hair back over her shoulder as if that's what she had always intended to do. She couldn't remember: was it Angelina or Alicia who didn't like to be touched? She had to be the world's worst dorm mate. It was a miracle they even tolerated her.

"And which boy in specific is the moron that made you cry?"

Wren had a sinking feeling she already knew the answer.

"Thom Spiro."

While she had expected it, she still had no idea what to say hearing the name of the boy Alicia fancied fall from her lips. Guessing what he did hardly seemed appropriate, but given the wide range of idiocy common in the teenage boys of Hogwarts, asking seemed to be a dangerous option too. So instead, she sat next to Alicia and tentatively looped her arms around her in what she hoped was not the most awkward hug to ever be given. Whether or not it was, Alicia fell into Wren, her crying picking up.

"I caught him kissing Louisa Finch."

Wren's spine straightened, but she didn't say anything.

"Last night--we were fooling around, and he wanted--" Alicia sobbed, seemingly unable to continue as she buried herself into Wren's shoulder. "I said no. I shouldn't have--"

"No," Wren said, firmly. "Absolutely not. You're not finishing that thought."

Alicia sniffed. "But--maybe--"

"No," Wren repeated, shaking her head. "You're not for his use. Obviously he doesn't want a companion, he just wants something he can stick his knob into. You're more than that."

Alicia let out a watery laugh. "I can't believe you said knob."

"What else do you call it?" Wren asked, and Alicia laughed a bit harder. Spotting a bit of success, Wren smiled. "He's a wanker. A tosser. A prick. A dickhead. A pants thinker. A broomstick with no lift. A magicless wand. I'm just guessing on the last two."

Alicia wiped at her eyes, extracting herself from Wren's hug. "I wouldn't know."

"Because you're smart," Wren said, grabbing Alicia's hand and squeezing it. "If you're not ready, you're not ready. It's better to wait than dive in too soon."

A pause settled between them as Alicia silently nodded seeming to think over the statement. "You're right, but--" she swallowed, and Wren could see the tears begin to gather in her eyes again. "It still hurts."

Behind her Wren heard the door to the dorm open and she looked over her shoulder to see Angelina.

"What happened?" she asked, the tone of her voice hinting that she already suspected exactly the story she was going to hear. Alicia filled her in quickly, adding a few more details that had been lost to sobs when she told Wren. All the while, Angelina listened, her face growing stonier and stonier. "Well, you know what we have to do now," she said simply.

Alicia nodded. "Can you?"

Wren looked between the two girls, her brow creased in confusion. "Sorry, I feel like I'm missing something."

Angelina turned her attention to Wren with an echo of amusement on her face. "We have to tell the twins."

It was impressive how much food Fred and George were able to knick in just a half hour. Crisps, popcorn, apple tarts, pumpkin pasties, oranges, treacle fudge, nut brittle, and butterbeer were all placed in the center of the floor of the boys' dorm. Wren and Katie had managed to scrape together a decent stash of other candies like Fizzing Whizzbees, Sugar Quills, Liquorice Wands, and Acid Pops while Lee had convinced the other sixth year boys to leave the dorm and done an impressive job cleaning. Either that, or the boys were a lot neater than Wren would have ever expected.

Wren reached forward, grabbing a new bottle of butter beer and tapping her wand to the top so the bottle cap flipped off.

"Alright are we going to keep avoiding it or should we get to the business of bashing Spiro?" Fred asked, rubbing his hands together. "I've got some excellent remarks on the spelling of his name."

"Come on Freddie, that’s too easy," George admonished, plucking up a handful of crisps. "Let’s get straight to the point that he's a disgrace to Ravenclaw House."

Wren choked on her butterbeer, and Katie reached over to pat her back some as she attempted to pull herself together. Angelina looked more amused at Wren's reaction than the comment, and Alicia turned rather glum as she twirled a sugar quill between her fingers.

"I'm sure there's plenty of boys in Ravenclaw who have done the same," Alicia sighed, lifting the tip of the quill so she could nibble on it.

"No doubt. Boys are horrid," George agreed. "But even amongst the ranks of Roger Davies and Hector Martín-Delgado, Spiro has a particular brain. One might even liken it to a troll's."

Fred nodded. "He's got to be the dullest of the lot. Not quite sure how he got in, frankly."

"No bloke in their right mind would choose Louisa Finch over you," Lee added, nudging Alicia with his shoulder. The corner of her mouth ticked up.

"That's one thing for sure, but the larger issue is--why snog in a public corridor if you're attempting to run around with as many girls as possible?" George asked.

Even Alicia laughed this time, spitting bits of sugar quill out of her mouth before clamping a hand over it.

"A fair question, George," Fred acknowledged, toasting him with his butterbeer. "There are plenty of empty classrooms for that."

"Or any of the not-so-secret passages," Katie added.

"Behind a tapestry," Angelina shrugged.

"In the woods at night," George suggested.

"Anyone on the grounds, really." Wren put in quickly.

Alicia smiled. "He's not exactly the best at finding spots for...rendezvous. Last time I tried to meet him, I ended up with you and Norah Randolph." Alicia gestured at Wren. This thought seemed to deflate her a bit. "It must be nice to have a boyfriend. You don't have to worry about the running around together bit."

“I wouldn’t know,” George quipped, popping some Fizzing Whizzbees into his mouth.

Alicia reached over and smacked his arm. George flinched away with a chuckle, his body slowly lifting off the floor as he tossed the rest of the sweets in his hand into his mouth. “I was talking to Wren,” Alicia corrected.

“You have a boyfriend?” Fred’s eyebrows shot up as he looked over at her, locking eyes. Her stomach flipped and she paused mid lick of her Acid Pop.

“Where was he at the Cup?” George asked. She felt more than saw his eyes on her.

Wren swallowed, clearing her throat of all sugar. This was not a conversation she wanted to be having. Not ever really, but particularly not now. “He was on holiday.”

“You may very well be on holiday, but you come back for the Cup!” Fred said, indignantly. As if Simon’s absence from the Quidditch World Cup was a particular affront to Fred’s own honor as a fan of the sport.

Wren returned her focus to the acid pop at hand. With any luck it would burn a hole through her tongue in the next twenty seconds, and she’d have an excuse to end this conversation before it steered into unwanted territory. “Well, he’s not particularly a Quidditch fan.”

“What particularly is he then?” George asked.

“Simon Chambers,” Wren answered, sticking the lollipop back into her mouth and deciding that she would not take it out under any circumstances.

“Simon Chambers? Really? You and him?” Fred asked. The shock in his voice was a bit offensive.

Before Wren could break her own resolve–which might have had something to do with why she couldn’t manage to stay un-Imperiused-- Angelina stepped in. “They’ve been dating almost two years,” Angelina looked between the twins. “How did you not know?”

The twins shared a look, and shit, shit, shit.

“Well, I just never would have seen it. You, George?”

“No, never.” No one asked Lee, but he shook his head.

Despite the small wave of relief, her stomach still felt as if it was twisted in knots, and she wished very much that all of the attention was off of her. “Look this isn’t about my love life, this is about celebrating Alicia for narrowly avoiding dating a troll’s tit.”

“Collings! Your language!” George gasped, holding a hand to his chest.

“You should have heard her earlier tirade,” Alicia said, grabbing a licorice wand from Lee’s hand.

Wren once again took the acid pop out of her mouth to defend herself. “It was hardly a tirade. None of the words I said were that bad.”

Alicia crossed her arms. “Would you use them in front of your mother?”

Wren opened her mouth but before she could get a word in, Fred followed up the question.

“Would you use them in front of McGonagall.”

Wren’s mouth snapped shut and the boys laughed.

Katie shook her head. “Never would have expected that out of you, Wren.”

“I never would have expected it out of Simon Chambers’ girlfriend,” Fred remarked.

Wren cast him a sour look, and he laughed loudly, but the subject was dropped, and they returned to eating unhealthy amounts of junk, devising new insults for Thom Spiro, and escaping all of the things that truly sucked about being a 6th year.

Despite the fact that she had to spend two hours, first thing in the morning, avoiding plants attempting to kill her, Wren found Herbology to be a bit of a reprieve. Even today as Professor Sprout taught them to wrangle with a Venomous Tentacula in order to effectively and moderately safely collect the plant’s juice, Wren felt as if she was able to breathe in the Greenhouse.

Part of this she attributed to her mother. Having grown up with a Herbologist of some note, a good amount of Wren’s childhood was spent in the gardens and greenhouses her mother tended. Of course, her mother had never let her get near anything quite so interesting as the plants at Hogwarts, but she’d always quite enjoyed tending to the honking daffodils and umbrella flowers.

Her young training had certainly come in handy during the early years of Herbology, but even now as she collected vial after vial of the juice. Wren backed away from the plant, casting an eye around the greenhouse. Many students seemed to still be struggling getting near the plants, while others, like Fred Weasley, seemed to have no issue getting near the plant but couldn’t quite figure out how to draw out the juice. She continued looking around, her eyes landing on Thom Spiro who was currently standing far too close to Caroline Purvis. She giggled as she held the vial up to the plant, and he stepped even closer, almost forgetting his role as a distractor for the plant.

Wren’s jaw clenched. George was right. Boys were horrid, and Thom Spiro was a special sort. He deserved a serious bit of justice.

As she set the vials in their holder to be brought up to Professor Sprout when class ended, an awful idea struck Wren.

It made her smile.

With one eye on Professor Sprout who was busy helping Arlan Summers and Tom Dalgliesh with their plant, Wren corked a vial, wrapped it in cloth, and stuck it in her bag.

Herbology ended soon after, some pairs, like Wren, scoring as many as four while others had nothing but a few tears in their robes to show for their morning.

Quickly, Wren made her way up the hill towards the courtyard where she could study before lunch. She had just picked out a spot lawn when something in the corner of her eye caught her attention. She turned, staring harder as if that would make things make more sense.

Alicia and Nora were….hugging?

It was none of her business. She should really sit down and open up a textbook and focus on her studies and not be walking across the courtyard right now.

"Hi?" Wren cast a look between the two girls.

"Hullo Wren," Alicia said, the words coming out a bit muffled because of the sweet she was chewing. Wren turned her attention to Nora, squinting at her cousin as if that would explain why she was suddenly such close friends to Alicia. Alicia, Wren's dorm mate, whom Nora had had maybe three classes with in her entire Hogwarts career.

As both girls looked at Wren somewhat expectantly, it hit her that she probably should have come up with some excuse to be coming over to say hello. "Hi," Wren repeated again, this time more as a statement than a question. "I just wanted to catch Nora, for a second."

"Yes?" Nora asked, tilting her head slightly.

Shit.

"Mum said to ask if Aunt Kathleen had sent you my color changing ink. She thinks I must have left it at your house when we got back from shopping."

Nora shook her head. "No, mum hasn't sent anything yet...I thought I saw that in your trunk?"

Shit. Shit. Wren was saved from having to attempt another lie by Alicia.

"Wait--are you two cousins? I always thought you were neighbors or met on the train."

Nora laughed heartily. "I know it's hard for me to believe this moody one is my blood," she teased, poking Wren.

"To be fair, we are practically neighbors. It's just the two houses between us," Wren said, batting Nora's hand away as the other girl continued to poke Wren in the arm.

"Blimey," Alicia shook her head. "I'm just as bad as Fred and George aren't I?"

Wren wanted to assure her that she wasn't. The fact that Alicia even knew Wren was dating Simon was purely because Wren had asked her for advice to help get dressed for their first date. The only reason Wren had known that Alicia fancied Thom was more due to Lee announcing it to the common room one afternoon at the end of last year than because of any kind of closeness between the girls. But Wren didn't get the chance because Nora spun to face her.

"Oh?" she asked, her voice going up an octave. "How's that?"

"They didn't know she was dating Simon Chambers."

“Well can’t blame them for that one,” Nora's voice returned to normal as she once more turned to Alicia, ignoring Wren's glare. “You two are never around each other.”

“Our schedules don’t match," Wren defended flatly.

Even though she wasn't facing her, Wren could see the small twinkle in Nora's eyes. “Would you say it’s…'an unavoidable conflict'?”

Wren groaned, and Nora laughed again. "Told you Wren. Divination is serious magic. Anyway," Nora flipped her plait over her shoulder. "I'm supposed to meet Arlan and Cedric so we can do some Astronomy work before lunch. Keep me updated," she added to Alicia who nodded in agreement. With that, Nora was off leaving Wren and Alicia together.

"I can't believe I didn't know Nora Randolph was your cousin!" Alicia shook her head, moving out into the courtyard. Wren followed her.

"I didn't know you were friends."

"We're not really. Or at least, we weren't," Alicia said, selecting a shady spot under a tree and sitting down. Wren hesitated before putting her own bag down and sitting beside the other girl. "We have Ancient Runes together. With Thom."

Wren's eyes widened. "Oh."

"She saw me looking miserable yesterday and made her partner switch chairs with me. Next thing I know, she's passing me toffees and I'm telling her the whole story."

Wren shook her head with a small laugh. “That sounds like Nora.”

Alicia began unpacking some parchment and books from her own bag. "There's not anything in those toffees is there? Veritaserum or something of the sort?"

Wren shook her head again. “That’s just Nora. People'll tell her anything.”

“I think we might be best mates now.” Alicia commented and Wren laughed before taking out her own work, and settling into a studious silence next to Alicia.

She hadn't planned how to get the juice into Thom Spiro' drink.

That was the primary thought running through Wren's head as she sat at the Gryffindor table, picking at her food. She had waved Alicia on to lunch before her, claiming she was just going to finish the chapter before she went in and the other girl didn't have to wait. She'd waited fifteen minutes to enter the Great Hall, sitting far along the table so as not to be seen by professors or any of the prefects who tended to group together at the middle of the table whether consciously or not.

It was about then that the thought hit her for the first time, and she had eaten most of her food and was in the final quarter or so of lunch without the faintest clue as to how to get this vial in his drink.

She couldn't very well just walk up to the Ravenclaw table and slip some in his goblet. The most interaction she'd ever had with him was holding a door open to Charms. They'd never even so much as spoken. Wren half considered dropping a knut on the floor and picking it up and handing it to him. But, passing off a knut and simultaneously pouring something into his goblet seemed just short of impossible.

Wren took a bite out of her roll, watching as more Ravenclaws came in and filled the table. She caught sight of a familiar tall and lean boy with copper hair, and her eyes lit up. Simon. She would walk over under the perfectly reasonable guise of saying hello to her boyfriend, and swap her own goblet with Thom’.

This plan quickly crashed as Simon passed Thom, picking an empty spot, naturally towards the center of the table.

Of course, Wren had considered switching her plan to a simple Pepper Breath Hex, which certainly would have put an end to his romantic endeavors at least for the next couple of days or so. But compared to her initial plan, this idea seemed so inadequate. And how could she even be sure that Alicia got to enjoy the justice? There had to be some way, some excuse, for her to switch goblets--

Of course.

It was so simple, really.

It was unlikely the teachers would expect it. If anything, it'd be written off as an unhappy accident from Herbology. If only he had properly corked his vial or used gloves to pass it along like Professor Sprout had said. Quickly glancing around to see if anyone was looking at her, which of course they weren't, Wren pulled the Venomous Tentacula juice from her bag and poured it in her own cup.

Subtly, she took her wand out of her pocket and with another quick glance up at the professor's table, tapped her own goblet, muttering the spell.

She peered inside and noticed her cup was slightly emptier than it had been.

She'd switched them. A rush of victory swelled in Wren's chest and she almost wished that someone near her would give her a high five.

It took five minutes to determine that her plan worked. A small commotion rose at the Ravenclaw table which seemed like normal lunch nonsense before the group of boys around Thom parted. Wren watched as Thom’s skin slowly shifted from its beautiful shade of lilac to a darker lavender. Giggles began to echo through the Great Hall as Thom’s distress grew more and more apparent. Wren cast a quick look up at the professors' table. Professor Snape looked particularly unamused, but Dumbledore had a small quirk of his lips.

Wren took this as permission for herself to smile as Thom’s friends rushed a now violet Thom Spiro out of the hall and towards, undoubtedly, the Hospital Wing. Sensing this was as good a time as any to dismiss from lunch, the food vanished from the table, and the students began to file out. Wren picked up her bag, ready to go to Transfiguration and feeling particularly pleased with herself as all around her students whispered about that purple Ravenclaw!

"Fine work, Collings." Wren nearly jumped out of her skin, fumbling her books. She succeeded in catching them back onto her arms, but one slid out, bouncing against the ground in front of her. Before she could bend over to retrieve it, one of the twins scooped it up and placed it on top of his own, significantly shorter stack of books. If two books could be called a stack.

"What?" Wren asked, her head turning to each of the twins.

"I was wondering what you were up to in Herbology," Fred, the one who was not holding her book, remarked.

"Sorry, you've lost me." Wren shrugged and gave a jerky shake of her head.

Fred gave her a wolfish grin. "Have I?" He waved his wand, and the empty vial shot out of her bag and into his hand. Because of course he could do nonverbal spells already. He wiggled it in front of her, and Wren snatched at it, surprising herself by actually wrenching it from his hands.

Wren stuffed it back into her bag, glaring at him--although the fact that he was absolutely correct took all of the heat out of her look. "That's for potions."

"And apparently poisoning Ravenclaw dickheads," Fred remarked.

"I didn't poison him."

She did. Technically.

"I don't even understand why you think it was me." She succeeded in making her voice slightly more casual this time which did nothing but make the boys' smiles grow.

"It's not a suspicion," Fred dismissed. " I know it was you. Saw you in Herbology."

"There's a plant that does that?" George asked with widened eyes.

"Apparently the Venomous Tentacula," Fred said. "Sprout said it was a poisonous juice, but I never reckoned I'd actually see someone poisoned with it."

"Stop saying I poisoned him!" Wren hissed.

George's brow wrinkled. "Is there another word for it?"

"Empoisoned?" Fred suggested.

"Envenomed?"

"Would this count as drugging?"

Wren brushed past the twins, entering the Transfigurations classroom. They followed her in laughing.

Alicia looked up from where she and Angelina were gathered together giggling. "Wren!" she called, waving her over quickly. Wren approached, dropping her books off at her desk along the way and trying very hard to keep the smile off of her face, seeing Alicia positively beaming.

"Tell me you didn't miss it."

"Thom Spiro turning bright purple? How could I?"

"Merlin, it was glorious," Alicia exclaimed looking happily up at the ceiling as if attempting to thank Merlin himself up in heaven. When she looked back down, her eyes fell on the Weasley twins who had followed Wren over. "You two, you did this, didn't you?"

"Us? No," George shook his head.

"We'd never dope a student," Fred added, pausing for a second. "That's the word we're going with, right?"

George shook his head. "Doesn't seem quite right. I still think poison's the best fit."

Alicia's face creased in confusion, and perhaps if Wren hadn't seen fit to cast a dark look at the two, the other girls might have assumed they were lying.

"Wren Collings, what did you do?" Angelina asked, and Wren's face went slack with surprise. It was just her luck that Angelina, the one observant enough to have taught Wren and Alicia how to tell the twins apart, would have caught the look.

"Me?" Wren asked, perhaps too defensively because now Alicia's eyes were on her.

"Wren," Alicia looked at her wide-eyed. "Did you....?"

Wren made a sound of disbelief. "You think I poisoned a Ravenclaw student? I'm dating a prefect! A Ravenclaw one."

"You did!" Alicia gasped, grabbing Wren into a tight hug. "You're bloody brilliant. Honestly, Wren. I could kiss you."

"Doubt she'd let you," Fred quipped.

Alicia released Wren who stepped back, taking her book from George and hitting Fred with it. "So violent, Collings," he flinched away laughing. "They're going to lock you up in Azkaban. You maniac."

"So if he wasn't poisoned," Angelina said, "What exactly happened to him?"

All eyes fell on Wren. "He didn't wash his hands properly after handling the Venomous Tentacula juice in Herbology today. Or maybe the cork wasn't on right and some got on his skin," she shrugged. "Professor Snape said it happens every year."

Fred opened his mouth to remark but was cut off by Professor McGonagall walking in, signaling to the students to stop talking and find their seats. Her gaze fell on Fred.

“Mr. Weasley, as you are not taking this class, please find your way to the door.”

Fred gave McGonagall a salute, and turned to leave, making sure to gesture to Wren that he had his eyes on her before heading out of the room. Wren's cheeks tinged pink as she made her way to her desk.

The light poisoning might have been a mistake.

#fred weasley #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x oc #fred weasley x f!oc #weasley twins #weasley twins fic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fic #harry potter book 4 #harry potter and the goblet of fire #ocappreciation #the fool #oc: wren collings #oc: nora randolph #series: the fool

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academiadaisies · 4 years ago

Text

my struggles with studying

I don’t expect a lot of people to read this, and I’ll probably end up embarrassed to have typed this all up and posted it by tomorrow, but I think it’s important for me to get this out and away from myself.

I appreciate anyone who reads this, and welcome completely anyone who is/has been in a similar situation to me and wants to talk about it or has some tips. I don’t have a lot of people to talk to about it, I definitely feel like anyone I’m close to will not be a lot of help, and I don’t want to be a mental burden, with them knowing my problem, wanting to help, but not knowing what to do, and blah blah blah... Just know, anyone is completely welcome to reach out to me. I know a lot of people say that online, but I’m just a little cancer moon, cancer rising ;). I’ve got ears and struggles too. Sometimes things are difficult. :)) <3

School has always been my demise. I was basically a corpse just going class to class, making little contribution and writing down what the powerpoint said. I would zone out - not realising at all, come back to myself and suddenly the whole class was doing work, and I would have to swallow my pride, interrupt the person next to me and ask what we were supposed to do.

But my nights were wasted too. I guess I was never really taught to study, and everything I had tried for myself never seemed to work. But I didn’t try often. I remember coming home and turning on my computer to watch the next episodes of my show of the week, my mind in a dull and empty buzz, and next thing I knew it was midnight.

Growing up there was no schedule or routine. No one was really checking I had done my homework, no one checking I was showered or that I had brushed hair. There were no rules either. No specific screen time, no food rules, no bedtime. I know why, my mum was a very hard worker, having a daughter, a job, and university, and I am so grateful for her. She was busy. But it just meant I never knew much discipline. There was no structure, but I wasn’t forgotten. There was no food in the house, but there was money, and I - having no sense of diet - would spend more than was good for me on junk; a six pack of crisps a day, frozen pizza... and today that has never ended, it’s something of an addiction now. The lack of restraint and discipline is apparent everywhere in my life.

In school is where it is at it’s absolute worst. It’s not even an issue of my intelligence. The absolute last thing I want to come across as is conceited, but I did better than I deserved my first two years of high school exams having never studied for them, except maybe a bit of rereading and desperate attempts to memorise the night before. I passed everything, bar one, and sometimes with A’s.

But last year was inarguably my worst year ever, and it has bled into this year too. My attendance was below 50%, I came in maybe two or three days a week, sometimes only finally getting the motivation to show up in the afternoon, and even then I would hide away in pupil support classes, still not doing any work. My mum phoning me and screaming down the line as soon as she got the absent text. Me not knowing how to explain that I just couldn’t physically force myself to get up and ready. I started with 5 subjects and finished with 2, both of which I initially failed, but those grades were redacted because people argued the SQA were not grading fairly, basing grades on location instead of merit, and so I scraped by with two C’s. I absolutely would not have passed if not for the pandemic.

This year is hard to tell where I would be in a normal situation. I like to believe it was going to be so much better. The idea of leaving high school and entering college*. It was a fresh start. I was supposed to get my work done the day it was handed out, I was supposed to be more extroverted, and become a leader like I always wanted. But, of course, it’s all online. I think a major benefit of it is I don’t have much excuse not to be in class anymore. I can (and usually do) wake up minutes before the class starts, and do it all from bed, so if I was left to my own devices to get myself there and back, I’d bet my attendance has skyrocketed from what I it would have been. Though, my college is quite far, and I think my mum seeing to that I was on a bus, or even not in the house when she has to leave, would have been enough to ensure I was there too. If it was in person I would have no where to hide too. I wouldn’t get to have my camera off and play games during classes and not take notes, the lecturers would see. I’d have to take notes and I don’t usually do that. I wish I had. But then that just begs the question of would it be a repeat of high school? Would I be a corpse that goes through college classes blankly instead of high school ones? I really don’t know what to think. But today my college work is suffering. I have seven vital pieces of work long overdue, and I think the weight of all of them on my brain stops me from doing even one.

*If you’re not familiar with the system here, college is basically a stage after high school but below university in Scotland, that not everybody goes to. I’m not sure the school systems everywhere in the world but it’s not the equivalent of sixth form college in England, or what’s called college in the US, which would be university here. I’m sorry if this sounds dumb because there’s probably this everywhere in the world but I just want to clarify what stage I’m at exactly. I’m taking a HNC which is kind of the equivalent of first year university.

And so it leads me to believe I have ADD/ADHD. I really am not about to self diagnose. Although it might be enough for some, I often worry I’m a bit of a paranoid person, and that I like to jump to the most “extreme” conclusions, but I don’t think my livelihood makes it totally unlikely.

I find myself devoting my time and what motivation I have to things that just don’t matter. I’ve memorised maps of the US, Europe, Scotland and Ireland. I took up interests in religion and astrology, buying crystals as if they were coming to save me like all the TikToks say. I’ve taught myself bits of piano, British Sign Language, chess, Teeline shorthand and Morse code, just to give up. I even made it to 100 days on Duolingo learning Scottish Gaelic before I stopped that too. Engrossed in wide varieties of things that I’d love to be great at, abandoning it because I’ve decided I’m bored.

But the worst waste of my time is always spent on my phone. I am a huge advocate for downtime, not every single second has to be productive. But it’s never good to have a 12 hour daily screen time average.

I can never concentrate either. I can’t force myself to. As I write this I have an essay due I’ve had for a month, and I’m going to have to do it all tomorrow. I don’t understand why I can’t physically force myself to get it done. I always think, “why am I on TikTok when I have an essay due?” And I never really have a reason. Even my driving instructor told me to get tested because, especially nearing the end of the lessons, my attention starts to waver, and I find her having to change gears for me sometimes, and warning me to stop looking at whatever might pass by.

I have a little list of priorities in my mind too. I keep reminding myself that I have this essay and this assignment to do, but I also have ideas of starting a blog or reading a book. The school work is first in the list of priorities, I know it needs to be done first and so I take it to the extreme and can’t seem to do anything meaningful at all until it’s gone. Of course, it never is gone, I never do it, and I find myself scrolling social medias all day, a perfectly anodyne time waster. No substance and no thoughts.

But I’m a perfectionist too, with very little confidence. I can tell part of me puts it off because it needs to be as good as it possibly can be, and another part tells me I’ll start it later, I’ll feel better about it later. I have big ideas, that if only I could force myself to do, would be great, but the idea of it not being good enough only puts me off. I’d not do the work until it’s at the point where the excuse is “it’s only bad because I didn’t give myself enough time to do it,” because of the fear of the possibility “it’s bad because I’m bad at it.”

Part of my inability to really do anything I think also had to do with depression. ADD/ADHD makes my life chaos. My room is a mess, there is no organisation or structure in my day, there is no motivation to fix it, no understanding of how to fix it. I’m a very intuitive person, because I have to be. Any decision I make is unknown to me until it’s happening really. I can’t plan when I’m starting work, sometimes I just have to hope I get the motivation to open my laptop. I think depression feeds off the ADD/ADHD symptoms. My room is messy because I can’t be organised, then my mindset worsens because I have such a terrible, unlivable space with no motivation to do anything about it, and it just stays that way. I can’t concentrate long enough to do work, then my mindset worsens because it means I have work overdue, that will have bad consequences, people disappointed in me, and etc, etc. I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m articulating myself well here. I’m intuitive in decisions but I’m also an overthinker. Or maybe just more of a worrier. I don’t do the work and so, every time my phone pings I jump and check cautiously because I fear it’s my lecturer messaging me that I’m off the course. The depression really took a terrible toll on my life. I won’t get too into it but I can hardly talk to friends, find the motivation to shower, or even go outside. All I find myself doing is lying in bed staring at a screen. I don’t know what else I can really do about it.

And the worst part is, in my mind, I have myself convinced that it’s not even that bad. That it’ll be okay tomorrow, I’ll change tomorrow, as if I’m not long past the point of this just being a little off day.

But one thing I do I know is a symptom of ADD/ADHD, which consumes my whole mind, is my hyperfixation. I won’t go too deep but basically for just over a year it’s been an honestly unsubstantial book I read. Loved by many, but nothing special, in comparison. I’ve only read it maybe twice all the way through but it never leaves my mind. I relish in any and all fan works, stalking the ao3 works, refreshing the tumblr tag. I can just stand and jump and pace, while listening to one song on repeat, thinking about the characters in all kinds of scenarios for hours on end. I can imagine the main character as me in everything I do; as I pick up a book from my bookshelf, as I walk my dog, as I lay down at night. I constantly compare myself to him too, feeling bad that I’m not as similar or good. I hate it. I don’t know if I even like the book anymore, I don’t think it’s possible to tell, I’m just obsessed with it.

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it really. The NHS don’t diagnose ADHD in adults, and I’m only 18. I’ve been this way my whole life but no one ever paid much attention to it. When I told my mum I think I have depression, she laughed at me, then got really angry, saying I’m not depressed just lazy, before buying me flowers and telling me she was worried I was going to hurt myself. Now I feel like I can’t speak about anything serious like this rationally because she looks for every reason that there is no problem, and if there is it’s the worst possible case, and “oh I’ve been a terrible mum.”

I don’t understand my problem. I have big dreams and goals for my life, I know what I am doing now will never get me anywhere but still that knowledge is not enough to get me to do what I need to. I’ve even written this post over eight days, for all the distractions and lack of motivation I’ve had to finish it. It’s a never ending cycle, but I really hope having this out there now will spark something in me. I’m sure this will make someone feel better about their situation now too, and that’s totally okay! If it can help someone, right? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I’m sorry I probably brought up a lot of completely irrelevant stuff, and went into tangents at times, but I just wanted to stress how it all plays into each other. They’re all connected, which brings a lack of motivation and discipline to my life and my work. I just want to let it all go.

Again, I really don’t think many people will read this but anyone is completely welcome to message. If anyone has some tips for people who can just never concentrate, or also anyone who is in social sciencey type courses (psychology, sociology, politics esp) and has some tips for doing that too I’d be so grateful. :) <3 (also this is a repost because I tried posting last night but it wouldn’t go to the tag, hope it works this time)

#studyblr #study #studying #student

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blogohio492 · 4 years ago

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steebharringt0n · 5 years ago

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dream a little dream of me

as if navigating through pits and perils of high school is bad enough, your life gets thrown in a whirlwind when the universe chooses the last person you’d ever thought to be your soulmate - the red power ranger

pairing: jason scott x reader

warning: like a couple of curse words?

a/n: @mattysheelies and I cranked out some of our favorite AUs the other day and we fell in love with this concept. this is my first time writing Jason so I hope I did him justice. comments are super appreciated! also i went WAY overboard with this so sorry to the mobile readers!

---

You can remember the exact night they began to happen. It was a warm spring night in Angel Grove, your bedroom window was slightly cracked open letting in a cool breeze to combat the growing heat that was starting to take over the small town. You were wearing your favorite pair of green cotton shorts and your oversized Angel Grove High sweatshirt.

You remember texting Trini right as your eyes started to become heavy, a conversation surrounding how gross Mr. Lawson from History class is. The last thing yours eyes saw before they found comfort in the darkness of your eyelids was your clock, large red numbers that flashed 10:32

There are four stages of sleep, you had quickly surpassed the first stage and took a nose dive into the second stage where it would become harder to wake one up. The third stage of sleep is commonly known as deep-sleep, where one would sleep through a thunderstorm, an alarm clock, or other environmental stimuli.

But the fourth stage, the dream stage, is where things started to get interesting.

You lived in a society where one was destined to a soulmate - like a red string tied to someone else, you were meant to be with someone for the rest of your life. It was a comfort knowing that there was someone out there just for you, like a missing puzzle piece. The only way one could know anything about their soulmate was through dreaming - their memories became your dreams and vice versa.

When you entered the dreaming stage of sleep you found yourself suddenly thrown into what felt like a never-ending action movie.

You couldn’t move, just watch from your soulmates eyes - as if you were behind them. You were kicking, punching, fighting the familiar monsters that appeared on the television news station a couple days ago. Your heart sped up during this time, you twitched in your sleep with every hit your soulmate would receive.

The one thing that struck you however, was his red armor. He briefly glanced down at his hands when you caught a glimpse of it. Then came his nickname.

“Red! Let’s go!”

Through his eyes you saw the pink Power Ranger speaking to him. He was suddenly then surrounded by the rest of the Power Rangers, all of them in a fighting stance, standing firmly by his side as they prepared to battle whatever monsters came next.

You awake with a jolt, gasping for air as your eyes frantically scanned your bedroom. You placed a hand on your chest, trying to calm your beating heart. You whipped your head towards your clock, it blinked 3:23 AM.

You run your fingers through your hair, your mind racing as it tried to gather bits and pieces of the vivid dream you just had. You stayed up the rest of the night, restless and anxious from the memories that ran through your head. In the end, before you succumbed back to sleep, there were two undeniable truths,

One, your soulmate lived in Angel Grove, and two, he was a fucking Power Ranger.

You awoke 3 hours later for school. Your head still reeling from the night before. You felt like a balloon, holding in air that was about to burst - you had to tell someone about this, someone that the person you were meant to be with for the rest of your life was a super-fucking-hero.

You dashed your way to Angel Grove High, weaving in and out of traffic. As you stepped into the halls you spotted Trini by her locker. Trini had always been a good friend to you through your middle school years, and you were thankful that the both of you kept the friendship strong throughout the years. You quickly walked over to her, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her into a hidden corner. She looks at you perplexed by your alarmed behavior.

You wait for a couple of students to pass by you before you could tell her the news. You turn to face her, grabbing her by the shoulders,

“Trini, it happened”

She shakes her head, her face is twisted in concern, “What?! What happened?!”

A grin spreads on your lips like a cheshire cat, “The dreams, they’ve begun”

She thinks for a moment before she continues to talk. The dreams happen to everyone, just at different stages. For some they begin earlier, for some they may not begin until their late twenties. But you? Right in the thick of junior year. You can see the cogs working in her head, until it's as if a light bulb goes off. Her brown eyes slowly widen, and her mouth gapes open.

“Oh my god! No way!”

You squeal in confirmation, nodding your head furiously at her. But suddenly, you grow quiet. You pull her in closer, as if what you’re about to tell her could potentially end the world. It’s quite possibly your biggest kept secret, one that you’re about to entrust her with. Her face once again transforms back into one of concern as she watches your demeanor change.

You then lean down towards her ear, whispering the undeniable truth to her,

“Trini, he’s the red power ranger”

Trini has been punched, beat up, kicked down many, many times. But this? This completely blows the wind out of her like no punch before. Her fingers find your bicep, gripping them tightly, trying to hold herself steady as the realization sinks into her.

Jason, her soulmate is Jason.

She knows she has to play it cool, she’s the yellow ranger for christ sake. You completely miss the way her face freezes in shock, and not in a good way. Instead she decides to play along. When you pull back to watch her reaction, she has a soft smile on her face, her eyebrows raised in complete surprise.

“Oh wow! Y/N! That’s so exciting!”

What more can she say? She has to be a supportive friend.

Right as you’re about to continue the celebration with her, Jason appears out of the corner. He stands at a tall 5’7, built sturdy with his signature blonde curl that hangs over his forehead. He has blue eyes that could give the pacific ocean a run for its money and a smile that could melt the coldest hearts. You glance up to meet the tall figure that cast a shadow over you and Trini, and instantly your heart starts to race.

It wasn’t like you had a crush on Jason Lee Scott for practically your whole life. Jason was untouchable, he was like some mythical god in your eyes. But you both ran in different cliques, different hierarchies. Your relationship with Jason purely consisted of stolen glances - and his name doodled all over your notebook.

However, you soon came to realize a couple months ago that he only hung around 4 people, Trini, Kimberly, Billy and Zach.

This group of people perplexed you, they all ran in different cliques and yet they spent lunch together, spent study hour together, and you’re pretty sure you’ve caught them at movies together as well. The dynamic didn’t make sense to you, but then again, not a lot of things in life tend to make sense.

Jason gives you a smile, one where he bares his teeth to you, “Hey Y/N, Hey Trini, can I talk to you for a sec, I just had a question about the homework in Mr. Gibson’s class”

Homework in Mr. Gibson’s class is code for, we need to go over what we did right, and what we did wrong in our last mission. It was a rule he implemented after Rita’s demise and Jason takes his role as the leader of the Power Rangers very seriously.

Trini quickly catches wind of what he means, stepping out of the corner and standing by his side. “Yeah sure, I’ll walk with you to the library”

Trini is currently battling with herself in her head. Should she tell Jason that his soulmate is literally inches away from him? Or should she keep this a secret? Either way, the big reveal should ultimately come from Jason - not from her.

Trini turns her attention back to you, not forgetting that you were still standing there. “Y/N, we can talk later in Mr. Lawson’s okay?”

With a soft smile donned on your lips, you nod at her, “Yeah, of course. I’ll catch you there later.” you pause, not forgetting that Jason was still there. Your heart speeds up as you make eye contact with him - you feel like a blushing school-girl (which you actually are) “I’ll see you around Jason”

He smiles warmly at you, “I’ll see you around Y/N”

You watch as the both of them disappear down the hall, a sense of wistfulness enters you - wishing that you could so desperately switch places with Trini. With a low sigh and your eyes cast down, you turn your attention back to finding your way to your locker, not looking forward to starting the school day.

When Trini and Jason arrive in the library, they quickly go to the back study room that’s always reserved under Jason’s name. It’s the only place where they can discuss their plans in private with the rest of the group without anyone interrupting them. Always under the guise of ‘we have a large semester project to work on’ the librarians don’t bat an eye when Kimberly, Billy and Zach arrive not even a minute later.

Trini shuts the door, her anxiety is starting to gnaw at her and her teammates can tell - it’s a ranger thing.

Jason waits for Trini to take a seat around the square table so he can begin his long awaited speech on how they should have cornered those monsters far away from the public, so that for next time innocent people don’t get caught in the mess, but when he catches wind of Trini’s face and how she’s gone from all smiley to something is terribly wrong, he takes a seat instead.

Kimberly’s eyes scan the rest of the group, wondering if they know what’s going on with her. But they all share the same blank stare.

“Okay Trini, what’s wrong, you’re freaking us all out here”

She paces back and forth, her eyes not meeting her teammates. She fumbles with her fingers, it’s a nervous tick that helps her keep calm during disastrous moments. When she doesn’t answer Kimberly, Jason takes charge.

“Trini, seriously what’s wrong? Is everything okay? Do you - “

She stops her pacing and turns to face them, all of them eager yet somewhat anxious to reveal whatever has been eating away at her for the past couple of minutes.

“Y/N’s soulmate is red Power Ranger - it’s you Jason, you’re her soulmate.”

The sentence slips out of her mouth like word vomit. Everyone tends to have the same reaction, Kimberly looks absolutely flabbergasted, Billy’s eyes just widened, Zach lets out an incredulous laugh, and Jason, well Jason just stays quiet, Trini’s not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

“Uhm, okay, wow … that is big news” Kimberly is the first to speak, but the tension in the room still hasn’t left.

Zach reaches over to Jason from across the table and gives him a pat on his back, “Nice man! She’s a cute one”

But Jason is stunned, frozen - his eyes are glued to the floor.

He knows that this means - he’s seen Spider-Man a million times. It’s the same reason why Peter Parker keeps Mary-Jane in the dark, to protect her, because he knows his enemies will come straight to her.

Logically he can’t tell her, he refuses to tell her. Once his enemies catch wind of who his soulmate is, Y/N will forever be a target, and if in the future they were to have a family? His family will be targeted and that’s a risk he refuses to take.

Realistically, he knows he has to tell her. The dreams have already started a week ago for him but he’s kept them to himself because he couldn’t quite figure out who the mysterious girl was. He lets out a small chuckle at his previous dreams - they’ve all been memories of him through her. He knows that Y/N has a crush on him, most of his dreams involved her staring at him from afar, doodling his name in her notebook, peeking at him through corners. It’s almost endearing at how much of a love-struck fool she is for him.

In the beginning he couldn’t make sense of who it was, it was just brief memories of a girl staring longingly at him but now that Trini has revealed who is soulmate is, the pieces of the puzzle are starting to come together and it’s all making sense.

“Jason, are you going to tell her? You can’t tell her, with great power comes great - “ Billy begins to ramble to him. Billy is a known comic book expert and he too knows what great dangers comes with telling loved ones their secret.

“Yes, I know Billy” Jason cuts him off, his tone turns irritable and he hates that he doesn’t have a solution for this.

Billy’s shoulders sink, and Jason takes notice. He turns back to his friend, a thin smile on his lips as he regrets his sharp tone with him. “I’m sorry Billy, I’m just …

“Scared?” Kimberly offers. Jason nods at her - she knows that the inevitable will happen to her too, to all of them but this is uncharted territory and their number one mission as being Power Rangers is to keep humanity safe - especially their loved ones.

“But you have to tell her man, she’s going to find out sooner or later, why not just rip the band-aid off now?” Zach is always the optimist of the group, so Jason is not surprised when Zach tells him to go for it.

Jason stands up and faces his team, his blue eyes scan each one of them. He’s scared, no terrified of what’s to come next. The last thing he ever wants to do is to put anyone in danger, especially his soulmate. He lets out a deep exhale through his nose and he plasters on a smile for the sake of his team.

“Don’t worry guys, I’ll figure it out”

They can read his false smile from miles away, but he is their leader and they trust him - like they have all this time and Jason never fails his team.

The rest of the day goes by smoothly and it’s finally last period - the only class Jason shares with you.

He likes to get to class early to make sure he’s caught up on all the homework, but this time he’s here early for a different reason; to sit right next to you.

You walk into class and almost stumble on your way to your desk when you realize that Jason Scott is sitting in the seat where Nicole Hardy typically sits. Your body language becomes timid, you slowly walk to your seat, eyes gazed down to the floor. Jason notices it an instant and holds back the chuckle that is bubbling in his throat - your crush on him is so obvious.

You take a seat and stare straight ahead. Usually Nicole would make small talk with you but she’s moved to a seat behind (which she was not too happy about) and now you’re stuck sitting there in silence, not sure what to talk about with the blue-eyed blonde sitting next to you. There’s still a good 5 minutes before class starts so you just open your notebook and pretend to catch up on homework (and pray that Jason doesn’t see his name doodled with hearts all over the next page)

Jason turns his attention to you, he notices how your (Y/H/C) hair frames the delicate shape of your face, and how your teeth find purchase on your bottom lip when you’re deep in concentration. He finds it cute, charming almost. You could feel his eyes burning holes in you, but you pretend not to notice him staring. It isn’t until he speaks to you that you turn to face him,

“Last nights assignment sucked huh?”

You bark out a laugh and you want to mentally kick yourself for borderline sounding like a seal. He watches as you fidget in your seat, pulling back a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah! Those poetry terms weren’t too fun”

“Iambic pentameter? Like how am I going to use that in the future?” he jokes.

You laugh, “Tell me about it, I am never going to use blank verse, or enjambment in my life. Those terms kill me”

His laughter joins you and the joyful laughter catches the attention of Mrs. Gerald, an older, wirey, short lady whose thick glasses perch comfortably on her nose. She scowls at the both of you,

“Mr. Scott and Miss. Y/L/N, since you both seem to be having such a grand time together why don’t you two work together for next weeks project”

She stands up and walks over to the both of you, handing you both the assignment. “It’s due next Friday. Keep the laughter down or I’ll ask you both to hand in a thousand word paper on how poetry is essential in the modern world” she snaps at the both of you.

The smiles from both of your faces is instantly wiped away as she walks back to her desk. The assignment is in your hand but your head is elsewhere - you’ve been assigned to partner up with Jason Scott and you feel like screaming with joy. Jason offers you a sympathetic smile and you return it as Mrs. Gerald starts her lesson.

The rest of the period goes by smoothly, Jason can’t help but to stare at you every now and then. He starts to pick up on your little idiosyncrasies, like how your foot taps against the desk, how you would frown when you wouldn’t understand something, or the way you tapped your pencil 3 times against your notebook, stop and think, then continue to write.

As the final bell rings, Jason stands from his desk, pulling his backpack over his shoulder, “Hey we can meet at my house this Saturday to work on this?” he asks, waving the assignment in his hand.

You fumble around with your notebook, trying to play it cool and calmly putting your stuff away, “Yeah, sure”

“Here, let me give you my number”

He rips off a piece of paper from the notebook in his other hand and quickly scribbles down 10 numbers. He hands it over to your shaky hands (your palms are sweating and you hope he doesn’t notice)

“Text me whenever I'm free all day Saturday”

He hopes he is, he hopes that no weird outer space monsters or creatures disrupts this time with you.

You nod at his statement, and he gives you a final smile and wave and you watch him walk out of the classroom. You let out a large exhale, one that you’d be holding in practically all class. You completely forget about the fact that your destiny is tied to the red ranger and become completely enveloped in the fact that you’re actually going to be hanging out with Jason Scott this weekend.

You curiously wonder if the universe has ever made any mistakes, because there is no way that the red ranger could ever make you feel the way Jason Scott does.

The rest of the week Jason is found sitting right next to you in English class and he’s more than eager to always strike up a conversation when the opportunity arises. The two of you joke about how Mrs. Gerald looks like a chicken if you squint your eyes and angled your head to the right. You exchange notes that hold in hefty discussions about music, movies and the latest happenings around Angel Grove.

You can hardly believe that Jason is actually interested in talking to you. You’re not sure what weird spell you’ve put on him but you’re actually looking forward to the end of the school day now just to hold your little conversations together.

The conversations don’t stop at school however. With his number now recorded in your phone the two of you start to text non stop - even if it’s about the most trivial things. You find yourself texting Jason instead of Trini at night now

Your red ranger dreams still don’t stop though. They’re all mostly a mesh of the same thing, lots of fighting and lots of chaos but you start to learn a little bit about the red ranger the longer your dreams are.

He’s a selfless leader, one who protects others before him. He makes sure every single person who gets caught in the crossfires is safe. You wish you had half the courage he possesses, you most admire that about your soulmate. You often wonder what he looks like behind the mask. Does he have kind eyes or a cute lopsided smile? Is he a blonde? Brunette? Or even a red-head?

Whatever he looks like, you’re certain that you’re instantly going to fall in love with him the moment your eyes land on him.

Jason finds himself in front of Zordon later in the week. He tells him about his soulmate, and how she’s this cute little thing, bashful and likable - but ponders how in the world can he keep her protected when he’s out fighting intergalactic creatures. He paces back and forth in front of his mentor, his hands shoved in his pocket and his eyes are anxiously attached to his shoes.

“I - I don’t know what to do Zordon, if I tell her then I’m just putting her in danger - she knows her soulmate is the red ranger and if one of our enemies were to find out she’s my soulmate … she’s doomed” he stops his pacing and faces Zordon. He shrugs his shoulders, slapping his hands down his side, feeling completely defeated.

Zordon stays quiet as he observes the young man. It’s been almost a year since their battle with Rita, and Zordon has seen Jason transform from a troubled, insecure boy to a fearless leader who guides his team with confidence.

“Jason, I don’t know too much about love and how it works here with humans … “ Zordon begins, “But I trust that whatever decision you make, will be the best decision for the both of you. You have guided your team in battle and have always come out successful. I trust you’ll do the same for your heart”

Jason always took Zordon’s words seriously, he had helped mentor him through his toughest times, and was a good person to seek wisdom and advice from. He felt a new found confidence within himself and felt entrusted that whatever decision he would end up making would be the right one.

Jason spent the rest of the evening gathering intel on their new nemesis - Lord Zedd. He had been sending threatening messages to the Rangers for the last couple of weeks, sending in his minions to cause chaos within Angel Grove. He knew that Lord Zedd would strike again soon, him and his team were fully prepared to take on whatever it threw at them next.

He just didn’t expect you to be caught in the middle of it all.

You found yourself walking back home from the movie theater, you and your friend Gina had plans to catch the latest chick-flick that were both dying to see. You didn’t live too far from the shopping center where the movie theater was housed, and since the days were becoming warmer, walking seemed more of a viable option for you. After the movie had finished you and Gina bid your farewells and you started the trek back to your house, cutting through a dark alleyway to save yourself some time.

You had walked through this alleyway millions of time, so you didn’t ever think that you would find yourself being cornered by strange looking creatures that seemingly appeared from the shadows.

You glanced back behind you, hoping that there would be an escape but more of them just kept appearing, growling menacingly at you.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit” you muttered to yourself as they started to draw in closer. Fear pooled in your stomach as you started to realize how close you were to your demise. They started to circle you in, like a lion hunting it’s gazelle, you closed your eyes and expected some sort of impact, but a loud voice suddenly broke their concentration off of you.

“Hey assholes! Why don’t you pick on someone your own size”

You shoot your eyes open and almost out of thin air the red Power Ranger appeared. He was perched comfortably up on the roof - waiting for the right time to intervene. Coming up from behind appeared the blue, pink, yellow and black ranger, all ready to kick some monster ass.

The monsters soon turned their attention to the rangers, completely ignoring you as you watched, with your eyes wide and full of awe, the rangers take them down.

Jason watched as his team easily defeated monster after monster. He then turned his attention to you. This was by far the worst case scenario, if Zordon hadn’t sensed Lord Zedds minions, who knows what could have happened to you.

You gazed up at the red ranger as he stood in front of you, his arms came up and he placed them on your shoulders, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asked.

You shook your head, “N-No, I’m fine …”

Jason nodded at you, but before he could turn back to help out his teammates, he felt you grab his arm, “Wait! Red!”

You had to tell him, you had to let him know you were his soulmate. Jason whipped his head back towards you, and he watched as you took a shaky inhale, trying to calm your nerves, “I need to tell you red … that you’re my - “

“Soulmate, I know”

You frown at him, “You know? B-but how?”

His armored hand comes up and rests on your cheek. It feels cold but the gesture sends a warm sensation to your stomach, “I can’t tell you yet … give me time. Do you trust me?”

You nod at him. Jason gives your cheek a soft sweep with his thumb before he returns back to his teammates, finishing up whatever was left of those monsters.

You quickly take the opportunity to rush back home - but not before Jason watched you from afar, making sure that nothing else attacked you that night.

You dreamt of the red ranger again and this time it was his memories of encountering you. You awake with a smile on your face but your heart starts to feel conflicted - you were eager to spend time with Jason, but the more you dreamt about the red ranger, the more you felt like you were starting to fall for him.

Saturday shows up quicker than expected and you find yourself standing in front of Jason’s front door, your knuckle hesitantly knocks on the wood.

Jason runs to the door, opening it up and greets you with a large smile. He gestures for you to come in. You poke your head inside his house, your eyes scanning his foyer before he takes you over to his bedroom - posers decorate most of his bedroom walls, clothing strewn haphazardly around his floor, his bed messily unmade - it was a typical teenage boys bedroom.

The both of you find yourselves sitting on his bedroom floor, legs crossed, english books wide open and notebook paper lined with messy handwriting. Soft music plays in the background to combat any awkward silence the two of you might encounter, but you’re both purely concentrated on the assignment at hand.

Instinctively your hand reaches over to the pencil that’s laying between you and Jason, but instead of feeling the hard, cold wood of the pencil, you’re met with a soft, warm hand. You glance up, (Y/E/C) meets his blue and you let out an awkward laugh, pulling your hand away from his as if you’ve been caught in the cookie jar.

“M’sorry” you shyly tell him as the color red takes over your cheeks.

“No, no, it’s your pencil, you take it” he tells you, grabbing the pencil and handing it over to you. You offer him a half smile as you take the pencil from him, jotting down notes from your English book. Jason watches you as chew the end of the writing utensil, forehead puckered, lips turned into a frown. You then perform his favorite quirk, you tap the pencil three times against the piece of paper, pause, think, then continue to write.

You glance up and catch wind of Jason’s smirk on his face, amused by your little actions. You freeze up, eyes widened in fear, “Do I have something on my face?” you question him, panic laced in your tone.

He shakes his head, amused by your sense of urgency. “No, no, you just do this thing - “

“Thing?”

“Yeah,” he pauses, licking his lips before he continues, “You uh, do this cute thing where you tap your pencil 3 times, stop and think before you start to write again”

Your eyebrow quirks up at the sound of the word cute, then a smile starts to spread on your lips, “Cute huh?”

It’s Jason’s turn to become flustered, and it makes your heart swell at how bashful the blonde suddenly becomes, trying to backtrack but stumbles over his words, “Not cute! I mean, not that I think you’re not cute because you are cute, but cute in like a quirky kind of cute”

Your smile evolves into a grin, “You think I’m cute?”

Jason is internally kicking himself in the head, but he’s been caught red handed, “Ah, yeah” he lets out a laugh, shaking his head at his choice of words, “I’ve been caught”

Bravery isn’t one of your best qualities, you almost passed out once when you were forced to play a tree during one of your elementary school’s plays. You swear it’s the adrenaline that’s coursing through your blood that prompts you to do what you’re about to do next. You reach over and place your hand over his, squeezing it gently.

With fluttering eyelashes and bashful eyes you gaze up at him, “For what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty cute too” you tell him.

Jason lets out a nervous laugh, he’s surprised at himself because he rarely ever gets nervous around a girl - but you’re his soulmate for christ sake; you both are tied together by destiny, the universe specifically made you for him, and him for you.

He brushes his nerves away and he surprises you by leaning forward, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. His knuckles brush against the apple of your cheek and your breath hitches, heart starts to pound a little harder, as he scoots closer towards you.

“Is this okay?” his voice comes out like a whisper.

With a swift nod, you consent to his next move. His tongue sweeps towards his bottom lip and the next thing you know, his lips are gently brushing against yours. Jason isn’t too skilled in the kissing department, hell neither are you, but the way your mouths move together is like a perfect choreographed dance. He places his hand on your cheek, moving you closer to him. Tongues are then introduced and Jason quickly takes dominance - he tastes like mints and cinnamon and he savors the faint taste of your vanilla chapstick.

Your eyes slowly start to open when you realize you’ve been kissing Jason Scott for the past 2 minutes.

Panic suddenly shakes your core and you come back down to reality. You push him away, panting heavily as you avoid his confused gaze.

“I - I’m sorry, was that too much?” he stammers.

You quickly start to gather your things, shoving all of your books and notebooks into your backpack. “I’m sorry Jason, I can’t do this.”

He shakes his head, feeling completely confused, “Can’t do what? Kiss me?”

You swing your backpack over your shoulder and promptly stand up, towering over the frowning boy. Your shoulders slump, feeling defeated. Kissing Jason Scott was once a dream of yours, but your effort is completely fruitless because you know you’re not meant to be with him. Jason Scott isn’t your soulmate, you both are tied to completely different people so kissing him just feels … wrong.

“Jason, you’re not my soulmate. You’re meant to be with someone else” you sadly explain.

Jason’s face turns stoic, he bites his tongue back. He wants so badly to tell you that yes! You’re his soulmate, and yes! He’s the red ranger, but he hasn’t decided how to tell you yet. He’s yet to cross that bridge.

“I’m sorry Jason, I really am, but my dreams have begun and I - I just can’t do that to him” you weakly tell him.

Him, her soulmate.

Jason’s lips turn into a thin line, “No, no, I understand …”

“I’m sorry Jason, I really am” your voices falters in pitch, trying to keep your emotions at bay. But it’s useless when he gives you this look that absolutely breaks your heart. His eyes become wide and you can tell, hell you know, he’s hurt.

You can’t stand to watch him any longer so you swiftly turn your back towards him and make a bee-line to the front door.

Jason is left alone in his bedroom, his music still quietly playing in the background. His thoughts are racing a million miles a minute. He now knows he has to tell you, he needs to tell you because he’s certain that he’s falling in love with you and he can’t hold back his feelings any longer.

You head home with your heart broken, your feelings conflicted and your mind reeling. You spend the rest of your Saturday moping around the house, your body planted on the living room couch and the remote control attached to your hand. You’re casually flipping through channels, but nothing seems to pique your interest. It isn’t until the rerun of The Office you were watching suddenly cuts off to a breaking news alert, a live feed of downtown Angel Grove. Another hoard of monsters have invaded Angel Grove and they’re advising people to stay inside while the Power Rangers take care of them.

You jump off the couch, moving closer to the screen as if it’ll help bridge the distance between you two. Your eyes are glued to the TV, making sure to try to follow the Red Rangers every move. The dedicated news reporter stays a safe distance away from the tumultuous scene, but it feels as if you’re actually there. It was then your heart suddenly drops to your feet and you let out a horrified gasp.

You can clearly see a sharp object pierce through the red Rangers armor. You watch as he stumbles around, trying to regain his composure. His hands dart over to his side where his armor becomes stained with blood. The other rangers run over to the wounded man, Blue and Black throw his arms over their shoulders while Yellow and Pink finish off the last hoard.

You feel utterly helpless. You want to scream at the television screen but instead frustrated, angry tears leak from your eyes. Sleeping that night becomes impossible for you, tossing and turning all night long. Your mind is hyper-focused on his well being, but how could you even help him when you don’t know who he is?

Arriving at school the next day feels like a large burden. You’re listless, tired, and hurt. You don’t even interact with your usual friends, and you’re absolutely dreading the final period. The last person you want to see right now is Jason.

You trudge through the halls when you catch Trini, Billy, Zach and Kimberly huddled together, looks of concerns etched all over their face as they speak in hushed whispers. Trini catches a glimpse of you and perks up, the rest of the group follows - their gaze towards you is oddly sympathetic and you can’t pinpoint why. You give Trini a wave followed by a thin smile, she returns it back to you.

You enter 7th period and frown. Jason is nowhere to be seen, in fact, now that you think about it, you haven’t seen him all day. You feel relieved yet concerned - maybe he’s sick you conclude to yourself. With Jason not sitting beside you, 7th period English feels like much more of a chore, no one to talk to or to distract you from Mrs. Gerald’s monotonous lecture.

The rest of the day passes by without any incident, and you’re more than ready to tumble back into your comforter and pass out, hopefully catch a glimpse of your red ranger. Something in your gut tells you that he’s okay, but you can’t be too sure. You pop a couple of sleeping pills to help speed up the process and by 9 PM you’re completely passed out, drool leaking from the corner of your lips as light snores exit through your mouth.

The dream begins and it feels like you’re having an out of body experience. The first thing you notice is hands - actual human hands. They’re jotting notes down on a piece of paper, his legs crossed on the floor. It all looks vaguely familiar but your mind can’t seem to pinpoint it yet. This is completely different from the rest of the dreams you’ve been having. You can sense that he’s at peace now that he’s not cracking skulls and kicking ass.

The red Power Ranger is a teenager is the first thought you have.

He then reaches across the floor, aiming to grab a pencil when you see another set of hands.

Those hands look way too familiar now, you recognize that bracelet, and the black hair-tie, they currently rest on your right wrist. You can feel your heart starts to pound in your chest. His head lifts up to view the person who owns those hands and you swear, you swear it was like an electric current sent a shock through your system.

His eyes warmly gaze up towards you.

It’s you, you’re in the red Power Rangers dream.

Jason Scott is your soulmate.

You shoot your eyes open, all of your sleep gone down the drain. Your breathing becomes erratic as your mind tries to quickly piece all of the missing pieces together.

And suddenly everything just makes sense - everything in this world, in life, makes sense.

The painful realization then hits you like a load of bricks - Jason was the one who got stabbed the other night, it’s why he wasn’t at school.

You jump out of bed, stumbling to throw on a pair of sneakers as you hop around your bedroom. You toss on your Angel Grove High sweatshirt and open up your bedroom window, hopping from ledge and onto your lawns freshly mowed grass. You pull your hair up in a messy ponytail before running towards your garage and jumping into your little brothers bike - the last thing you want is your wake up your parents by starting up your car.

Your calves burn as you pedal through the town of Angel Grove, cutting through homes and alleyways, all for the boy who’d been keeping this burning secret from you this whole time.

You finally reach the white house that looks over the ocean, dropping your bike on his lawn. You make your way towards his bedroom, the only one with the large window that looks out over the coast. You peer inside the large glass and see the blonde boy laying on his bed, his eyes shut, bruises littering his cheeks where his freckles are specked around.

Your heart clenches at the sight of him looking so broken. Your fingers carefully, and quietly pull back the window, opening it enough for you to sneak in without stumbling over your feet. You land in with a quiet thud and pause for a second. When silence continues to welcome you, you start to move towards Jason’s bed, your eyes scanning him more carefully.

You sit down beside him, feeling the bed shift in weight, but he doesn’t wake up. Your emotions have been a mess lately, your heart has been tugging you in two different places, but now that everything has been pieced together, you can finally breathe. You can finally accept what the universe has been trying to tell you since you’ve started these dreams.

That Jason had been your soulmate this whole time.

With shaky fingers, you reach towards his face. You brush away his curl that dangles from his head. He feels warm compared to your cold hands, but just knowing that he’s okay, that he’s alive gives you a sense of peace. You let out a deep exhale as you softly touch his bruises, making sure not to touch them too hard.

Jason slowly stirs in his sleep, cracking his eye open. He frowns, then jumps away from your touch, startlingly you as you dart your hand away.

“W-what? Y/N? What are you doing here?” he sleepily questions you.

You give him a watery smile as your emotions start creep their way up, “Jason … it’s you, it’s been you this whole time”

Jason is still half asleep, and the words don’t quite register in his head when you tell him this. He has completely forgotten that he has a massive stab wound on his side - The rest of the Power Rangers were able to convince his parents and everyone else that he was caught in a horrific car accident. Zordon has him on bed rest for a week - he knows that’s all it’ll take to fully heal Jason and his deep physical wounds.

Jason slowly, and carefully sits up, wincing as he leans up against his headboard.

“Jason, don’t move, take it easy” you say.

He shakes his head, “No, no I’m okay, it’s not as bad, I’m healing up”

As he positions himself in a more comfortable position he starts to wake up, and it’s then he fully registers why you’re in his bedroom at 2:18 in the morning. His memories have finally lead you to him. He gives you a half smile, before he continues to talk.

“Caught me huh?”

You let out a half laugh at his lame attempt to joke about the situation, “Why didn’t you tell me Jason? Why didn’t you tell me you were my soulmate?”

There’s a hint of anger in your voice, and he understands, completely understands why you’re angry at him.

He moves his hand and places it over yours, squeezing it gently. “I couldn’t tell you. I needed to keep you safe as long as I could before I figured out how to tell you, but I guess my memories caught up with you”

You sigh heavily, “Jason, nothing is going to happen to me - “

“You don’t know that!” he angrily exclaims, “The other day you were cornered by those creatures!” he pauses before he continues, letting out a shaky exhale, “What if I can’t keep you safe?”

Your eyes desperately try to search for his blue ones, but they’re avoiding your gaze. His face is hard, but his emotions are starting to trickle out with each word he utters. Negativity invade his head space, blocking out any rational thoughts.

“Jason, that’s never going to happen and you know that.” you borderline scold him, your eyes darken with anger, the fact that that idea is instilled in his head makes you frustrated. Jason throws his hands down his side, feeling exasperated.

“Enemies will come looking for you” he begins to counter.

“So? I’ll learn to fight or something”

“What if you’re cornered like that again?”

“I’ll bring pepper spray big deal”

“What if you get kidnapped?!”

You roll your eyes, heaving out a large breath. “Jesus Jason, just stop, stop fighting what the universe has been trying to tell us for the last week.”

He throws his head back, eyes cast up on the ceiling. He knows you’re right, he just hates to admit it.

“Jason, look at me, please” you beg.

His hand is still gently placed on top of yours, so in an effort to show him that you’re in this for the long haul you place your other hand on top of his. He then slowly brings his head back down, his large blue eyes filled with emotion as they bore into yours.

“Jason Lee Scott, I love you and I am willing to fight by your side, do whatever it takes to make your job easier in protecting me, in protecting us, all of us” you gesture outside to the general public because you know that at the end of the day, his priority is to keep everyone safe - not just you.

His hard face softens as the 3 letter word leaves your mouth. His heart swells up three times the size as it beats wildly in his chest.

“You love me?”

His voice becomes childlike at the question. Almost as if he can’t believe that he can be loved by someone else besides his family.

You let out a dry laugh, tears brimming your eyes as a watery smile takes over your lips. You remove the hand that was on top of his and you bring it to his cheek, gently brushing over the bruises that decorate his face.

“Yeah you big doof, you think I’d be up at 2:30 AM for just anyone?” your tone is much more playful with him and the tension in the room slowly starts to slip away.

He lets out a laugh, leaning into your soft touch. You both share a moment of tenderness as he then leans forward and rests his forehead on yours. The two of you shut your eyes and just completely live in the moment. Forgetting what tomorrow may bring, forgetting what happened in the past, and just living in right now.

“For what it’s worth,” Jason says, a smirk slowly creeping on his lips, “I love you too

A laugh leaves your lips as he mimics the same words you told him 2 days ago. Jason then instinctively leans in closer and presses his lips against yours. He pours all his pent back emotion into the kiss, his hands promptly then cupping your face. Tongues are meshed and lips are smashed in a passionate expression of love.

“I can’t believe it was you, it was you this whole time” you breathly speak as he starts to move his lips down south, peppering small chaste kisses down your neck.

“Surprised?” he pulls away briefly, his lips are all red and swollen.

You shake your head, “Honestly, I’m way more surprised that you were my soulmate - not that you’re a Power Ranger”

Jason cocks his head and you return him a smile before you continue to explain.

“You’re a good guy Jason, you’re not the typical asshole jock at the school. I’ve seen how you’ve defended Billy, how you’ve just become this better person - everything the leader of the Power Rangers should be. I just never thought that the boy I’d been crushing on for all these years would end up being with … well with someone like me”

Jason frowns as your voice turns undeniably sad at the end. He can’t find the right words to convey his thoughts, so instead he just sweeps you into his arms. You let out a joyful squeal as he pulls you towards his side and bringing you down to lay with him. Your head nestles into his chest, the sound of his heartbeat lulling you. You close your eyes and melt into his body, making sure to be mindful of the giant wound on his side.

His arm wraps around your waist as he presses his face into your hair, taking a deep inhale of the strawberry shampoo that scents your hair.

“Someone like you? Someone incredibly cute, funny, smart, loving, compassionate, kind, oh and did I mention very, very cute?”

Your giggles echos his bedroom as he starts to place kisses all over your head, “Okay, okay Scott, you can stop buttering me up”

“Just one question,” you ask, lifting your head up and propping yourself on your elbow. He looks at you amusingly, his eyebrow quirked. “How did you know I was your soulmate?”

He can’t reveal the identity of Trini, nor the rest of the rangers. It’s not his decision to make at the end of the day and he fully respects that. His mind then wanders back to his dreams, smirking at you before he speaks,

“Mmm, well your memories didn’t really do a good job of hiding your feelings towards me … subtlety isn’t really your strong suit” he says to you. Your mouth gapes, feigning hurt, and you gently jab his arm. He winces mockingly, rubbing his arm,

“Ooh ouch, you sure you’re not a Power Ranger? You hiding something from me?”

You roll your eyes, “Haha, very funny.”

Silence then nestles between the two of you. Crickets chirp in the background, the wind gently howls. The stillness of the night starts to lull you both back to sleep as you find yourself back laying in his arms. Jason’s eyes are slowly drifting shut when he hears you speak,

“Hey since I’m dating a Power Ranger does this mean I can hitch a ride in your zoid?”

His chest rumbles in laughter. “Ha - in your dreams sweetheart, in your dreams”

It was that same night as you slept in your soulmates’ arms that you decided to never question the universe again.

#jason scott #jason scott x reader #jason scott x you #jason scott fanfiction #jason scott fanfic #power rangers 2017 #dacre montgomery #i feel weirdly nervous about this but then again i'm always hard on myself SO

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thebiasrekkers · 5 years ago

Text

Fragmentation 0.1 - JHS

Plot: How does one measure freedom? Are our choices truly our own, or are they part of a preset design outside of our control? We all have a question burning inside of us, though few speak it out. It is the question that drives us forward, seeking purpose in our lives. What is The Matrix?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Pairing: N/A

Warnings: Strong language, allusions of suicide, extreme angst, graphic violence

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,008

AN: It’s finally here! I know that I am still in the process of updating Make It Right, but I have been dying to get this series off the ground. Especially since no one in the fandom has written in this Universe from what I can see. So I’m super excited to share this with you all. This is the prequel to my upcoming series, Defragmentation, which showcases everyone’s origin stories and how they managed to escape from The Matrix. Because this universe is so extensive, I strongly suggest that people utilize the official Matrix Wiki as a reference point because there will be much in this world that I will not go into in-depth explanations for. Again, if anyone would like to be added to the tag list, please feel free to message us!

Tag List: @aroseforyoongi, @prisczero, @pinkpjmin, @btsaudge (I’m adding you because I purple you; don’t @ me)

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Sabine saw The Code first.

Just after his fourteenth birthday, Hoseok met up with his best friend after school for their traditional birthday shenanigans. The funny birthday card, the sweet cupcake with a single candle on top, and a handmade present that he knew Sabine spent the better part of three months putting together. That was supposed to be the plan. Nothing changed in the ten years they knew each other.

Instead of meeting on the roof after school, Sabine told Hoseok she would be waiting for him at the abandoned playground on the edge of town. He didn’t understand why she wanted to meet there, of all places. Kids didn’t go there anymore because of a major accident and the lack of upkeep made it look creepy. Going there after the sun went down just gave it eerie vibes.

When he arrived, Sabine was idly moving back and forth on one of the swings. Her eyes looked focused on something just behind him. When Hoseok turned to see if there was anyone there, he felt a chill slide down his back when there was nothing. He wasn’t sure if Sabine was trying to scare him, but it was working.

“Hey, Hobi,” she called to him, standing from the swing to meet him, “you haven’t been using your inhaler lately.”

He tilted his head slightly. Now that she mentioned it, he hadn’t been. The doctor told him to only use it when he felt it was necessary. For the last year, he didn’t feel a need. P.E. wasn’t as hard for him as it used to be and he could run four full laps around the track without feeling winded.

“No, I haven’t,” he replied, meeting her gaze, “but why bring that up, Bean?”

She smirked, brushing past him to stare out across the road. The street lights flickered to life, illuminating the pastel green landscape around them. Hoseok knew that look and it almost always meant trouble. He really didn’t want to get involved with another of her hair-brained schemes on a school night.

“Can you see it?”

He turned to look in her direction, her back still facing toward him. “See what?”

He watched Sabine’s back muscles tense slightly until she craned her neck to look at him. “You can’t see it?”

“See what?” he repeated with a sigh. “I don’t see anything except you being weird.”

For a while, Sabine said nothing. It wasn’t like her to be silent for this long and Hoseok was consciously aware of how hard she was looking at him. He was about to tell her to say something, anything, instead of staring at him like he’d grown a second head. Just then, she let out a defeated sigh and began walking away, leaving him behind.

“Hey,” he called, already starting after her, “what am I not seeing?”

“Doesn’t matter,” came her dejected response, “no point if you can’t see it.”

He wanted to keep bugging her about what it was she was seeing and he wasn’t, but Sabine clearly made up her mind about something.

Hoseok just wished he knew what that “something” was.

“Sabine, wait!”

Hoseok watched his best friend continue her ascent up the fire escape without him. He tried not to be too loud, considering that their neighbors were middle-aged office drones who worked nine to five hours and had 2.5 kids. The last time it got rowdy in their complex, the local authorities were called almost immediately. Add the fact that they were sneaking out after curfew and it was easy to see why Hoseok was a little nervous to be raising his voice.

But Sabine kept going, as if she hadn’t heard him.

Pouting, Hoseok quickly ran up the stairwell after her - his legs feeling much lighter than they usually did. Normally he would feel winded trying to keep up with her, but today it felt easier to breathe. Which was strange, considering he’d been diagnosed with asthma since he was a child.

Then again, a lot of things were different for the past two years.

His parents told him that it was the normal adolescent hormones that popped up at the age of thirteen. “Puberty” and all that nonsense. He’d learned about it in school and, at the time, it made sense. He figured that it was just “growing pains” and nothing more.

Ever since his fourteenth birthday, however, he knew that things were changing at a pace that almost didn’t seem natural. Things were getting weirder and weirder every day. Hoseok even had a weird case of déjà vu when he thought he saw the same cat go by twice.

That couldn’t have been the case, though. That sort of stuff wasn’t real.

Hoseok mentioned it to Sabine just a few days before his fifteenth birthday. He remembered the way her eyes almost seemed to light up - a look he hadn’t seen on her face in almost a year. The truth? Their friendship was strained and Hoseok was confused as to why. He couldn’t remember doing anything to upset her and she was the sort of person who was blunt and honest about her feelings at all times.

Though she had been surfing the net more and more. There were days where Sabine would skip out on their normal hangout time to stay glued to her computer. Her parents said she was studying or doing homework, but he knew Sabine was extremely intelligent and rarely had to put any real effort into her school assignments. Hoseok was no dummy either, but even he needed her help from time to time when it came to classwork.

The days bled into weeks and then the weeks into months. Before long, he was beginning to dread that things weren’t going to be the same between them anymore.

Then Sabine showed up at his door, telling him to come with her to the roof of their apartment complex. He wasn’t about to question her reasoning. Hoseok was just glad that she was talking to him again outside of class.

When he finally reached the top, Sabine was standing on the edge of the roof on the other side. Her dark curls whipped around her head as a sudden gust of wind blew through the air. Hoseok shivered, feeling the cold bite go straight through him. He crossed the roof to where she was, rubbing at his arms to warm them up.

“So,” he said, trying to ignore the awkward feeling in the air, “what’s up?”

She continued to stand on the rooftop’s edge, her hands stuffed into the large front pocket of her hoodie. Sabine didn’t answer him right away and while that would have bothered him before, he was just glad to be able to be close to his friend again. If he was admitting anything to himself, it was that Hoseok missed her. A lot.

“Do you feel that?” she asked suddenly, causing him to look up at her.

“Feel what?”

Sabine sighed, turning to look down at him. “C’mon, Hobi. I know you feel that.”

He really didn’t understand what she meant, and was about to tell her as much. Suddenly, she reached down to grab his arm so she could pull him up onto the perch beside her. Hoseok almost squawked, losing his balance slightly until she tightened her hold on his sleeve to steady him.

“Bean, I really don’t know what you’re talking about…” And he felt bad about it.

“No. I think you do.” Sabine gave him a pointed look. “You feel it, but you just don’t want to admit it.”

He sighed. “What is it I’m supposed to be feeling, Bean?”

“That this,” she said, stretching her arm out toward the cityscape, “isn’t real.”

Hoseok balked at her. “Wait, what?” He blinked once. “What?!”

This time she scoffed. “You haven’t had to use your inhaler in the last two years. You run the track regularly during P.E. and you’re able to keep up with me now.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself because he wasn’t sure if he wanted to argue with what she was insinuating. It wasn’t like any of it was a lie. But to say that none of it was real? That was just crazy.

“I’ve been reading up on these forums and there are whispers about this place. About how it’s not real.” Sabine’s brows furrowed as she bit her lower lip, averting her gaze from his. “How our whole life is one giant lie.”

A soft ache welled in his heart. Had she been battling with these feelings of depression alone all this time? Was that why she’d pushed him away?

“Hey,” he said gently, reaching out to grasp her hand, “that’s not true. How can you say that?”

“Because it’s true. I’ve seen the glitches. I’ve seen the code.” Her tone was a mixture of hurt and indifference, like she couldn’t decide what emotion to display to him. Sabine turned to look at him. “And you have too. You just keep pretending that you haven’t.”

Hoseok frowned. “Sabine, come on…”

“You just want to keep being blind to it, but I know you’ve seen it too!”

The truth? He had. He had seen weird things - almost like flickers and after images. He figured it was because he was overworking himself or that his body was continuing its weird pubescent changes. What other reasoning was there? If he saw the same cat twice, it was just a coincidence. If he felt lighter on his feet, it was because he was taking the time to exercise properly. If there were ripples in the glass reflecting a person that was both him and not him, that had nothing to do with anything. It didn’t mean that their world wasn’t real or that their lives had no meaning.

...right?

A rush of movement reclaimed his attention and he screamed in horror as Sabine jumped off the roof. Hoseok reached out, grabbing at her wrists. The force of the jump coupled with gravity pulling her weight down in a rush caused his knees to crash into the concrete perch. The pain was immediate and he gripped onto Sabine with all of his might. Tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes as he looked down at his best friend, unable to fathom why she’d had the sudden urge to want to kill herself.

“Let go,” she said, causing him to sob.

“Are you crazy?!”

“Just let go, Hoseok.”

When he looked down at her, she wore an expression he couldn’t place. It seemed almost peaceful; resolute. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was a level of acceptance plastered over Sabine’s face that was profound. It caused his heart to leap into his throat and for a moment, the landscape dissolved into an array of black with strings of green numbers and letters in every direction. Even his best friend’s image was shaped around these numbers and letters.

His knees scraped across the concrete, causing his grip to slip a little. And then everything returned to normal. Or, at least, the normal that he believed himself accustomed to.

When Hoseok’s eyes met Sabine’s once again, he saw her crying. He didn’t have to ask why. Because he already knew the answer.

“...it’s not real,” he mumbled.

Sabine nodded, smiling up at him. “So let go.” Her fingers tightened around his wrists. “Let’s go.”

He smiled at her, leaning down a little further, and gave a small laugh. “Okay.”

Hoseok waited for her to close her eyes first. Then he closed his. When he felt her thumbs pressing into his wrists, her silent way of saying she wasn’t going anywhere, he let gravity take hold of them both. The world rushed around his ears - the wind howling from the speed of their descent. At some point, he groped blindly until his arms wrapped around Sabine in a strong embrace.

And then everything went dark.

“Welcome to the Real World.”

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novadust86 · 4 years ago

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The Best Laid plans - ch3

Chapter 3: Summer from Hell

Harry lay on his bed atop the threadbear blanket, his head resting on a pillow that had lost all of its bounce as he stared up at the ceiling. He was not having a good day. Hell, he wasn’t having a good summer at all. After his uncle had collected him off the train the ‘summer of hell’ had started almost straight away, with Vernon informing Harry that his sister, the woman Harry had been forced to call aunt Marge, was at the house. Apparently, after something had gone wrong with her plumbing it had revealed that some emergency work was needed on her house, so while the work was being done aunt Marge had invited herself to stay.

This had not left aunt Petunia happy. His aunt had entered Harry's rose bushes in some local garden competition (he refused to call them aunt Petunia's rose's in his head as he was the one who did all the work before he started Hogwarts). Marge had brought her prized bulldog 'Ripper’ with her and Ripper seemed to be deeply offended by the flowers and was doing his best to defile them. Uncle Vernon had then taken great delight in telling Harry of the rules for the summer, as well as how he had told Marge that his “no good, pathetic excuse for a nephew” was so bad he had been sent to 'St Brutus’ school for incurably criminal boys’, and, specifically, that if Harry so much as hinted at anything else his uncle would make him regret it.

---ϟϟϟ---

Uncle Vernon pulled the car onto the driveway. The two got out of the car without talking only to find Harry’s ‘Aunt’ Marge standing on the doorstep. She was very like Uncle Vernon; large, beefy and purple-faced, she even had a mustache, though not as bushy as his.’*

She started in on Harry before he even got to the front door, “so your back are you?” Not even waiting for a reply, she continued on, this time to her brother, “why even let the boy out Vernon? Surely that 'school’ is the best place for him?” Her less than subtle emphasis on the word school left no doubt that she was referring to the ridiculous fabrication of his uncle. “Teacher's need time off”, Vernon replied gruffly as he opened the boot for Harry to retrieve his trunk.

“What's in the trunk boy?” Aunt Marge demand, obviously looking for something to criticize, “Oh...Um...just my school things. School uniform, homework, paper, pens...that sort of thing.” Harry replied, automatically concentrating more on getting the heavy trunk out of the car then having a less than pleasant conversation with his aunt. Marge mulled that over for a few moments, looking for something else to scold, but evidently coming home from a boarding school with luggage and homework was expected. So, Aunt Marge fell back on her favorite insult, which was also a favourite of the two Dursley adults. Namely, calling him lazy and questioning his work ethic. “Well, you best take your trunk up to your room! No excuses for not getting your homework done! At least while you are doing that you aren’t off trying to break into cars or whatever it is you do!”

Harry froze and looked at his uncle. He knew Vernon didn't want him to have his school things, he didn't want Harry to do his homework. But, most of all, he didn't want Harry to have access to his wand. Not that Harry's wand was in his trunk. After everything that had happened the last two years, he had owl ordered a wand holster, and as such his wand was stuck to his arm and hidden with a perception filter charm. “Don't go looking to your uncle for help, boy! Get that trunk upstairs now!” His uncle, now standing behind Marge, nodded and mouthed 'for now’. Harry guessed that he couldn't think of an excuse on the spot to lock Harry's trunk away and had decided to pretend it was perfectly normal until he could think up something that wouldn't leave his sister suspicious.

---ϟϟϟ---

After that, there had been the start of the whole thing with Hedwig. While Marge had accepted Vernon's excuse that at Brutus’ they required pets to teach the boys responsibility, she still complained that her bulldog Ripper didn't like birds and that he was ‘sensitive’. Sensitive was apparently code for 'evil little shit', at least that was Harry’s opinion. He’d taken Hedwig straight to his room and set up a perch for her by removing the bars from her cage. It was crude but serviceable. He had just gone downstairs to ask Vernon if there were any old newspapers he could line her cage with ,(there were always some as his uncle was an avid reader of the Daily Express. Harry however, always remembered what he heard a comedian say about it once "well at least they are true to their advertising, the paper is daily and clearly written in a hurry), when there was a huge racket from his bedroom.

Ripper had snuck into Harry's room when Harry left the door open and was trying to jump up on top of the wardrobe where Hedwig had retreated to avoid the snapping jaws of her attacker. Harry grabbed the dog to pull it out of the room and away from his owl. He had been able to pull the dog out but had received a bite on his right arm for his trouble. The door now closed and Hedwig safe, Harry now turned his attention solely to keeping Ripper's teeth from ripping into him again. This was not as quiet he’d hoped, as evidenced by the three sets of feet thundering up the stairs.

Harry felt sick just thinking about their reactions. First up the stars had been his uncle, who just stood there watching. Marge came next and the bitch fucking laughed and encouraged the dog. It wasn't until aunt Petunia had seen the blood that she said anything. But, not surprisingly, it wasn't to protect Harry, no, she was more concerned about Harry getting blood on the carpet.

God, He hated it here.

Aunt Petunia threw a toilet roll and a Crepe Bandage at him and told him to make sure not to get blood everywhere. Harry retreated to his room and sat on the bed. He made two pads out of the toilet paper, one for each side of his arm, and held them in place with the bandage. His arm seen to, it was time to strengthen out the room. He reset Hedwig's cage, then set about the task of coaxing her down off the wardrobe. Seeing his friend so shaken, Harry held her close, "It’s Ok Hedwig, it's Ok. I promise I won't let him hurt you. Only a few more weeks before we can get out of this shithole."

---ϟϟϟ---

The next few weeks had been filled with cooking, cleaning, dodging his cousin (who’d arrived back from smeltings the next day), and trying to do something to help the roses survive Ripper. This was easier than it might have been, as the dog had stopped caring about the roses. Instead, the bulldog was constantly camped outside Harry door trying to get in at Hedwig. Harry had been bitten three times more by the dog so far and he seriously doubted it would be his last this summer.

If that wasn't enough, he was seriously missing Hermione. To be fair, he was missing any friendly contact. His friendship with Ron was strained and almost everyone else cared little for Harry, only for the-boy-who-lived, some mythical hero they’d built up to some impossible standard that no one could ever live up to, let alone a small, underwhelming and bespectacled boy. All this and the fact that Hermione filled both the role of best friend and girlfriend meant that Harry was feeling rather alone.

It hadn't helped that since becoming a couple the two of them had been practically inseparable, never spending more than ten hours away from each other, even if most of that time they were asleep. It wasn't entirely their fault; they eat their food in the same hall, went to the same classes, studied in the same library and relaxed and slept in the same tower. Even when they weren't working together or chatting they tended to be in the same space. The only real time they spent truly apart was when Harry was practicing quidditch (Hermione only went to games, not practices) or when Harry was forced to go to classes while Hermione had been stuck in the hospital wing, once from the polyjuice and once from that bloody great big snake.

Even when Hermione had been petrified he had made his way to the hospital wing each day, telling Hermione about the classes he had had that day, then reading more of her books to her on the off chance she could hear him. Staying till Madame Pomfrey kicked him out for the day. He still wasn’t sure if Madam Pomfrey let him stay for Hermione's benefit or his own. He definitely felt, well...not better, but less helpless as he sat there reading the ‘The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy’ series to her. Just thinking of Hermione in that state lead his mind to another dark place. He couldn’t believe that Hermione had had the answer in her hand and that he had spent days sitting next to it the whole time. That damned snake, he wanted to bring it back to life just so he could kill it again for what it had done. The thought of that it sent phantom pains through the crux of his right elbow, a remembered pain of the venom burning its way into his flesh.

God, he hated summer.

---ϟϟϟ---

July 31st

Harry awoke on his birthday like it was any other day at Privet Drive, with his aunt banging on the door and telling him to go cook breakfast. Harry wasn't surprised if he was lucky no one would say anything about him now being officially a teenager. Then he could pretend they had just forgotten, instead of deliberately doing it to hurt him.

He finished getting dressed; pulling on a lumpy old pair of Dudley's socks that he had grown out of about two years ago, a ratty old pair of trainers that he had grown out of at about the same time. Then he was off to cook enough bacon and fried eggs to feed a small platoon, or just three Dursleys. Aunt Petunia would have just tea and toast with whatever spread she chose that morning, if she stuck to her pattern.

Harry grabbed a package of 24 slices of British back bacon from the fridge, laying out the whole pack on the grilling rack and starting them to cook. He set the largest cast iron skillet on the hob, adding what he considered an obsessive amount of lard to the pan and set it on low heat. He put four slices of bread in the toaster, two cans of beans in a tub in the microwave and filled the kettle to boil the water for tea and coffee. Aunt Petunia as always was the first to come down, and her tea was already in the teapot and her toast cooking when she sat at the table.

“Marmite.” No please, no thanks, just the one word. Not that Harry expected anything else as he grabbed the tar-like paste from the fridge, setting it next to the plate that was waiting for his aunt's toast. Soon everyone was down and the Dursleys were eating. Breakfast done, Harry made his way upstairs, finally able to take care of needing the bathroom and brushing his teeth. As he cleaned his teeth he smiled to himself, thinking of the lecture Hermione had given him on dental hygiene.

It was rather an interesting topic that showed the difference between Muggle and Magical cultures. Muggles couldn't really fix teeth, they could only add a hard substance to fake a tooth being there, such as fillings and false teeth. So muggles focused on prevention, pastes and brushes to stop there being a problem in the future. Magical folk, however, they just used charms to keep their mouths smelling and tasting fine. This did nothing to remove the problem though, but if a witch or wizard had a bad tooth that was easy enough to fix; just vanish the tooth and down a shot of Skele-Gro. 6 hours later and they have a new, perfectly healthy tooth.

Harry made his way back to the kitchen to clean up after breakfast and to see if there were any leftovers so that he could eat this morning. To his surprise, there were two pieces of bacon and a slice of toast. Hardly a feast but plenty for him. He cleaned up the plates and mugs and grabbed the plate with the toast and bacon on it to put it on top of the pile of dishes he was taking back to the kitchen.

“One second, Harry” He froze at Aunt Marge's words, hesitated for a second then turned back to her. She smiled at Harry, then took the bacon and folded the toast around it and fed it to the dog in her lap. She had done this on purpose, she had left the food there till he had seen it, just so she could take it away in front of him. Harry wanted to scream, he wanted to shout, he wanted to take the pile of dishes he was carrying and smash them over her fucking head. But, he knew that was exactly what she wanted. Instead, he did the only thing he could to strike out at her. He denied her the confrontation she wanted by smiling at her, somewhat viciously, “anything else Aunt Marge?”

---ϟϟϟ---

Later the same day

Aunt Marge definitely wasn’t happy with how things went at breakfast. She had been pushing all day to get a rise out of Harry, ramping up the pressure each time. Now the Dursleys were sitting down to dinner, again cooked by Harry. Dudley had had the brilliant idea to get at Harry; he’d asked for shepherd’s pie and treacle tart for dinner. This was probably Harry's favorite meal, and despite the fact that both dishes were of the classic British variety; namely heavy, rich, hot and very filling and an absolute godsend when it was cold and wet, they were being consumed in the totally unsuited summer heat. So they sat there eating Harry's favorite meal, while Harry hasn't had a bite of food all-day on this thirteenth birthday.

Then there was the dinner conversation he had to listen to, “You mustn’t blame yourself for the way the boy’s turned out, Vernon”, Marge said between shoveling meat and potatoes into her mouth, “If there’s something rotten on the inside, there’s nothing anyone can do about it.” Harry's hands shook even as his face remained impassive though he longed to burn them with his anger, and magic. She wanted him to fight. He had to keep his cool. Don’t rise to it, “It’s one of the basic rules of breeding,” she continued on, definitely oblivious to Harry’s rising temper, “You see it all the time with dogs. If there’s something wrong with the bitch, there’ll be something wrong with the pup.”

How fucking dare she! She had never even met his mother, the woman who had literally given up everything, including her life, for Harry. Aunt Marge reached for her glass of wine, only to have the glass explode in her hand, the shards of glass cutting into her flesh. Harry watched as blood began to ooze from numerous small cut on the inside of her hand. Luckily, Marge just laughed it off, “Sorry about your glass Petunia. I have a strong grip. Let me just go sort my hand out. BOY! Clean up the glass, if even one shard ends up in my poor Rippy’s paw there will be hell to pay.

Her threat finished, she left for the upstairs bathroom, her hellhound in step behind her. As soon as she was out of sight, Vernon turned on Harry. “You dare use your abnormality to attack my sister!?” He was out of his chair and was pulling off his belt. “I di-didn't”, Harry stuttered, “T-that wasn't me.” The belt was in Vernon’s hands now, “BULLSHIT! I know your freakishness when I see it”, Harry had backed into a corner of the room trying to put as much distance between him and his raging uncle as the room allowed. Searing pain flashed over Harry's back and shoulder as the strip of black leather found its mark. Again and again, the blows fell onto Harry's left side, feeling like it was on fire as uncounted blood vessels where broken under the improvised whip.

Harry cowered in the corner, trying to react as little as possible to the beating, though some tears and pained moans still escaped from him. He had learned over the years that they were longer if he screamed. Then everything changed.

There was a loud screech of pain and everyone stopped. It wasn't Harry's scream. It wasn't even on this floor of the house and, it wasn't human. “HEDWIG!” The blood drained from Harry's face. Now he could see what had happened; Marge had broken the glass on purpose. She had done it so that Harry would be busy cleaning while she went upstairs and let Ripper into his room where Hedwig was sleeping.

Harry got up and tried to rush to the stairs, only to be grabbed by his uncle. His uncle opened his mouth to start yet another of his verbal tirades, though unfortunately for Vernon Harry was now too focused on his owl that he was no longer concerned with holding his power in check. As a result of delaying the desperate boy, Vernon was relocated to the far side of the room, where he suddenly found himself being reintroduced to his wall with a sickening pop and crack from his shoulder and arm.

Harry was up the stairs in a flash. He tried to push open his door, Hedwig's continued screechs calling him to help, but the door wouldn't open. He tried again but the door wouldn't budge. Then he saw it; Aunt Marge had locked one of the seven locks that were on the door, a relic of the last summer Harry had spent in this hellhole. She had also added a padlock. Harry's mind raged and his power responded, rushing out to unblock his path, exploding the door and some of the surrounding masonry that was keeping him from Hedwig.

If Harry had been paying attention, he would have seen Marge standing in the bathroom, the door wide open, watching. The sadistic women wearing the biggest shit-eating grin she had ever worn. As Harry pulled on the door to try and get in finding it locked she mouthed the words “got you”. Her triumph, however, was soon replaced by terror as at a gesture from Harry, the door exploded into shrapnel. Shrapnel that resembled matchsticks more than anything else and was suddenly filling the landing.

The sight that greeted Harry as the door disintegrated chilled him to the bone. Hedwig's pale white feathers were scattered around the room, her blood staining them, the ruby crimson standing out all the more due to the contrast. And there, in the middle of the room, a screeching Hedwig, her wing trapped in the jaws of her attacker.

Harry couldn't have held back if he tried, Hedwig wasn't just his pet and post owl. She was a magical creature and his familiar. And part of that bond was that his magic couldn't stand by and let her be hurt. While a more experienced wizard may have been able to direct the response more, Harry, with only two years of education under his belt, was just along for the ride. Harry felt the power in him flow, reaching out towards the dog, prying its jaws off the injured wing and freeing his friend. The offending mut was then thrown across the room through the door and into the opposite wall with a meaty thunk, where it slumped to the floor, never again to rise.

Seeing her prized bulldog stud die so suddenly cut through Marge's shock, fear and the rational parts of her brain. Marge charged at Harry, intending to hurt him for what he had done to her dog. But Harry still hadn't regained control of his magic yet. In fact, he was so worried about Hedwig he hadn't even tried. Hell, he was so worried about her, he didn't even know that he was being attacked. He would later find out that he had stuck his aunt to the ceiling with some accidental magic variation of a permanent sticking charm.

Harry now cradled his friend in his arms, tears freely flowing at the state of her wing. He stood, keeping Hedwig in his arms and just started walking, down the stairs, out the door, down the street. He had only a vague plan. Find a vet, get Hedwig to Diagon alley, there had to be someone there who could help. The problem was, without Hedwig he couldn't call for help from anyone. He had little Muggle money and he was down to his last 5 gallons till he got to Gringotts. He would use the Muggle money to get as close to London as possible. Then he would try and get the rest of the way as fast as he could, even if he had to walk.

He really needed Hermione right now. Hermione would know what to do. There would be a public floo access she had read about or a post owl office that he could use to call for help. Hermione would also probably know a better place to take Hedwig than a magical pet shop. Right now he just needed help.

It was then that Harry's magic decided to pull one more trick out of its hat tonight. He felt the flow of his power as it surrounded him, then started crushing him into a ball. Not painfully, but definitely not comfortable. Later, when Harry heard about Apparition training and the three D's, he would always add his own fourth; destination, determination, deliberation and lastly, desperation. He would also realize that he was incredibly lucky that all he left behind was his shirt, and not some part of himself.

That was how Harry appeared in the Grangers’ dining Room, covered in belt marks, bruising and dog bites. Nothing to hide it from the three sitting down to dinner, but an owl with a mangled wing and her blood that was covering him. Seeing the one person who he thought could help Harry relaxed, “Hermione.”

“Harry?!” With that one word from Hermione's lips, all the will and adrenaline that was keeping Harry going, allowing him to push forward despite the lack of food and heavy use of magic gave way and Harry's last act of will was to turn as he fell, ensuring that Hedwig would land atop him, not the other way around, as he slipped into unconsciousness.

---ϟϟϟ---

Author’s Notes

From now on, all flashbacks will be in italics, so that you’ll be able to see that it’s not at the same time as the story.

ok, I admit I hated myself a little when I had Harry made that promise to Hedwig knowing what was going to happen. I originally intended for ripper and marge to put up a stronger fight at the end of the chapter but this felt more right as I wrote it.

a few small parts are lifted directly from the prisoner of Azkaban

P.S props to anyone who can name the comedian who made the Daily Express joke I used.

chapters 1-45 are avalable on https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13294547/1/The-Best-Laid-Plans and https://archiveofourown.org/works/18862810/chapters/44770174

#harry potter #harry x hermione #harry potter fanfiction #harmony

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