#guess who need to go to the library tomorrow to look for books instead of sleeping UGH

[collecting--stardust]

Ended up trying to be productive by researching info for my o&g assignment instead of rewatching that Austria race and it ends up making me more stressed out. So my group's topic is molar pregnancy and I'm in charge for complications and health education part and the lack of proper and recent research is astonishing

[myokk]

Sebastian Sallow's List of Priorities (in no particular order):

Figure out what the hell I'm going to do when I graduate;

Figure out how the hell I'm going to finish this bloody Charms essay before tomorrow; and

Figure out what the hell is going on between us

Sebastian sits in an undisturbed corner of the library - nobody ever comes to this table because it's tucked away between shelves of incredibly dense magical theory books - and is twirling his quill in his fingers, watching the ink splatter on the list he spent his precious time writing instead of the Charms essay he should be working on. He's far away from the first-years who like to congregate by the windows and watch the leaves fall softly to the ground rather than study for their classes. He's made especially sure that he is far, far away from her.

It's not his choice, mind you, but he needs to be a gentleman about these things. If she needs some time and space to figure out that she's as crazy for him as he is her, fine. But even Sebastian Sallow's patience runs thin, and he's not sure how much longer he can give her to come to her senses before he snaps and takes matters into his own hands. If things were up to him, the two of them would be sitting far too close together now in this secluded corner, and maybe he would need to put a hand over her mouth to ensure her complete silence as he runs a hand up her thigh.

Now that he knows what delicious sounds can come out of her mouth - sounds that he caused - he's been having a hard time concentrating on, well, anything. Sebastian surreptitiously glances across the library to where she's sitting and studying with his sister and Imelda. Ever since the events after their Divination class, Sir Cadogan has taken it upon himself to follow Sebastian around the halls of the castle, tripping through frames and disrupting their inhabitants as he lectures Sebastian on love. The tea party women had managed to convince the knight that he had disrupted an amorous exchange, and Sebastian fervently wishes they hadn't.

The whole school is abuzz with rumors about who it could be. Nobody has even come close so far with their guesses, but Anne and Imelda are having too much fun teasing him about it. Somehow, she has managed to avoid suspicion - he wonders how this is even possible, since she's never been able to hide what she's thinking. He makes eye contact with her - has she been staring at him this whole time? - and she flushes before looking over to Imelda, who's laughing too loudly at something Anne's just said. Sebastian can't tear his eyes away from her profile, his eyes following the curve of her eyebrow, the slight upturn of her lips as she smiles at her friends, her eyes as they dart back to him, her cheeks as she turns an even darker shade of red as she realizes he's still watching her. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, and rests her chin on her hand as she tries to look absorbed in what Anne is saying to her.

Sebastian wonders if she's thought about him as much as he's thought about her. Judging by how she had snogged him back, he's positive that she feels the same way, but then he remembers how she had looked at him before she fled, and he's not so sure. He sighs as he looks back to his list, bringing his quill back to the third item and ripping the paper as he crosses it out again. His mind has been going in circles since that moment and he doesn't know what to think. He slowly puts everything into his schoolbag before heading out of the library for yet another freezing cold shower that hopefully tempers his now-permanent state of arousal whenever she's around.

He doesn't notice her eyes following him as he walks out of the library.

He doesn't hear her hurried excuse to Anne and Imelda as she shoves her things into her bag and rushes to follow him.

He doesn't hear her light footsteps as she gets closer to him.

When she puts a hand out to touch his arm as he waits for the moving staircase to stop, with a soft, "Sebastian" accompanying it, he nearly jumps out of his skin. He was so absorbed with thoughts of her, that to see her standing at his side, closer than she had been since they kissed was almost his snapping point.

"Can we talk?" she asks, looking almost embarrassed as she avoids his eyes. She instead looks determinedly at his collar. He thinks she probably notices that he swallows nervously before acquiescing, but she says nothing as she turns and starts hurrying away from him without waiting to see if he follows her.

She must know that he would follow her anywhere at this point.

from my oneshot🫶🫶🫶

I just really wanted to draw these two idiots😭💘

[lily-fics-11]

I Can See You: Chapter 6 (Ellie Williams, TLOU)

I Can See You

Fic master post here

Also, I kinda cosplayed Ellie if you want to check it out

*Not beta read

Ellie Williams is a player, on and off the lacrosse field. You begin tutoring her so that she can get her grades up and stay on the team. You try to keep things professional, however, your affection is a great motivator. Ellie wouldn't be caught dead with you so you become her secret mission. 

Chapter 6

Your friends are trying to figure out who your mystery girl is while you and Ellie grow closer than ever. Turns out the back of the library isn’t as private as you thought it was…

Word count: 4.4k

CW: *Ellie and reader are both 18*, profanities, sexual innuendo/references, profanities

“I need your help with something,” Ellie informs you after giving you a kiss and plopping down at your usual table in the library. 

“Is it Chem? Your test is on Wednesday, right?”

“Yes, actually, it is. But that’s not what I meant. It’s not school related.”

You are surprised, but try not to show it. You are more than happy to help her with anything she needs, though you haven't gotten past the homework and Dunkin Donuts coffee phase yet. “What is it, El?”

Ellie takes a deep breath and blurts out “I really need you to come to my lacrosse game tomorrow.” 

“Ellie I want to, I really do. But I don’t know how I’m going to pull that off. My friends are going to see my location at a random lacrosse field and think I got kidnapped. If I turn it off they will think I got kidnapped. I guess I could just leave my phone at home…” you trail off, racking your brains for an answer. 

Ellie cracks a smile. “This game is at North. You told your friends you are seeing a girl who goes to North. Why can’t she be a lacrosse player?”

Your face lights up. “Ellie, you are brilliant!”

“Yeah, I am,” she responds, a smug grin on her face. 

You throw your arms around Ellie and give her a kiss. “I’m excited to watch you play live, instead of on some grainy live stream.”

“I do look way better in person. The camera doesn’t really capture how good my ass looks in those shorts.” Unserious Ellie is ridiculously endearing. 

You laugh, still holding on to her, unwilling to let go yet. Ellie starts to kiss your neck and the pace of your breathing picks up. She keeps nipping at your neck, leaving you humming with satisfaction. 

Out of nowhere, you hear voices, very close by. You are both startled, having been lost in the heat of the moment. Quickly separating from each other, you and Ellie try to act natural. 

Two boys walk past and start scanning the book shelf to your left. You turn to look and Ellie’s eyes widen. 

“Turn the other way,” Ellie says under her breath. 

You look back at her in confusion.

“Your neck,” she whispers.

Ellie had been kissing your neck moments earlier, she must have left some evidence behind. 

“Fuck!” You hiss and whip your head in the other direction. You fiddle with the hood of your sweatshirt so that it’s covering the spot that is missing Ellie’s warm lips. 

Neither of you even had any work out, it looks like you are just hanging out in the library. Which wouldn’t usually matter, but the two of you don’t want to be seen together yet. 

Thankfully, the two boys are most likely freshmen, who probably don’t care about girls' lacrosse. They probably don’t know who Ellie is and there isn’t any reason someone would recognize you when you don’t recognize them. That’s a bit of a relief. 

The boys don’t take too long and you can finally stop holding your breath.

“Those were freshmen, right? They wouldn’t know who we are?” Ellie asks, the tone of her voice quite grave. 

You reassure Ellie, but also yourself. “I doubt they know who we are. We should be fine.” 

“Okay good.” Ellie takes your hand and rubs her thumb over your palm. 

“I don’t know that this is a good spot anymore,” you mumble.

She puts her hands in her pocket with pain in her eyes. “I can’t believe it. No one comes in here after school, especially not this section.”

“Not for books,” you correct her.

Ellie’s freckled nose scrunches up. “What does that mean?”

“You’ve never hooked up in the library?” You question, having assumed that someone with Ellie’s track record had done it before. 

Her jaw drops and her green eyes are horror struck. “Why would I? Have… have you?!?”

“Uh yeah…” you scratch the back of your neck. 

“Who did you… never mind. I don’t want to know. Just for the record, I prefer the back of the locker room,” Ellie huffs. She seems to be displeased thinking about you hooking up with another girl. “But the library suits you better.” The two of you start laughing, too amused by your own stereotypes to stay jealous. 

You bow your head formally. “Why thank you, ma’am.” When you look back up at her it’s time to be serious. “We can stay here today, but we have to figure out a different spot for Thursday.”

“We need somewhere private,” Ellie agrees. 

“I have access to the chem lab for tutoring, my ID can get us in.”

“You tutor someone else in chem?!?” Ellie crosses her arms with an enormous amount of sass. 

“Ellie we’ve been over this,” you remind her.

“We have. That doesn’t mean I feel any less betrayed.”

You put a hand on her thigh under the table, if someone were to walk in they wouldn’t be able to see. “You are my favorite person I’ve ever tutored.”

“I better be. And just so you know, since my test is on Wednesday, I won’t have much work to do on Thursday. I don’t know how I’m going to keep myself occupied in a locked classroom with you,” Ellie smirks. 

You smile and shake your head. “That’s a tough one, El. What are you going to do?”

“I’ve got some ideas. But I need to study so you are going to have to wait until then to find out.” 

You continue to avoid PDA the rest of your time in the library, already anxious for the next time you can see each other, before you have even parted ways. 

You sent a selfie in the Snapchat group chat later that night using a filter that tells you which character you are from a show that you and all your friends watch. You hadn’t thought anything of it until you were being bombarded with questions about the hickeys on your neck. 

“They are from the girl that goes to North,” you lie and ignore their questions for the rest of the night. 

The next day at lunch you hear whispers about Ellie Williams in the library after school. She was seen with a girl who, believe it or not, has your hair color and skin tone. That’s crazy. 

Those damn freshmen. 

You: Good luck today!!😘💕

Space Nerd🚀🤓: Having you there is all the luck I need💚🍀

You get to Ellie’s game while the teams are still warming up. Ellie routinely looks at the bleachers as you walk around to the visitors side, searching for you, and a big smile grows on her face when she finally spots you.

The lacrosse spectators look somewhat familiar now that you’ve been to a few games. Joel is amongst them, talking to some of the other dads. It’s impossible to hear what he’s saying from this far away, but you can tell how proud he is of Ellie as he points down at her on the field. 

You watch Joel for a moment. It warms your heart to see someone care so much about Ellie. She’s so special and he cares so much, they way she deserves to be cared about. 

Joel happens to glance in your direction and makes eye contact with you. He gives you a knowing smile and you blush. Joel probably knows you are Ellie’s tutor?

But why would Joel know what Ellie’s tutor looks like? You were in the school paper recently, a picture and blurb about you and the 3 other seniors going to Ivy League Colleges. You are going to Brown.

This recognition leaves you flustered nonetheless. Another person knowing that you are connected to Ellie is overwhelming, though just as thrilling. Although it’s for the best, you don’t always love being a secret. It’s hard not to wish things were easier. 

After shaking off the self conscious feeling that had taken over you, the incessant buzzing of your phone blowing up can no longer be ignored. 

Nicole sent a screenshot of your location in the group chat. You should have expected this, she asked you to hang out and you told her you were busy and didn’t give an explanation. 

Melisssssssa🎤🙈💓: She’s at North👀

Caroline🦋🩵🍭: At the North LACROSSE FIELD👀🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

Tee-rees-ah💟🎨🐞: Slay pussy boss queen👏🏼

Caroline🦋🩵🍭: Go get your woman!!!!!

NICOLE MY MAIN BITCH👯‍♀️💅👛💓: You do love an athlete

Melisssssssa🎤🙈💓: Jackie’s JV game is right after if you want to stay and watch!!

Caroline🦋🩵🍭: You should break up with her if she doesn’t win 

But that’s just my opinion 

NICOLE MY MAIN BITCH👯‍♀️💅👛💓: Why didn’t you invite us???? 

Do we embarrass you ma’am??  

Tee-rees-ah💟🎨🐞: Yeah we want to watch to

Melisssssssa🎤🙈💓: We want to meet her

NICOLE MY MAIN BITCH👯‍♀️💅👛💓: What is her name 

Melisssssssa🎤🙈💓: What does she look like

Tee-rees-ah💟🎨🐞: What’s her home address

NICOLE MY MAIN BITCH👯‍♀️💅👛💓: What’s her social security number 

Caroline🦋🩵🍭: BRB I’m going to stalk your Instagram following list  

You follow 3 North girls that have something gay in their bio which one is it

NICOLE MY MAIN BITCH👯‍♀️💅👛💓: I’m looking too

 None of them say they play lax:/

Melisssssssa🎤🙈💓: I think it’s the one with 🩷🧡

Tee-rees-ah💟🎨🐞: No it’s gotta be the one committed to UCONN

Caroline🦋🩵🍭: Y’all are wrong it’s gym mirror pic girl 

You: She doesn’t have an Instagram 

NICOLE MY MAIN BITCH👯‍♀️💅👛💓: WTF

Caroline🦋🩵🍭: 🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩

Tee-rees-ah💟🎨🐞: 😡😡😡😡😡😡 

Melisssssssa🎤🙈💓: We will find her 

Caroline🦋🩵🍭: Looking at the roster now 

The group chat continues to pop off, all theories about who the mystery girl is. You ignore them because the game is starting. 

Ellie is so graceful, yet domineering on the field. The way she plays it is effortless, but also so intentional. Ellie is swift and graceful, poised and confident. She looks at you every time she scores a goal.

You don’t outwardly cheer, just clap when you are supposed to. It’s painful for you not to yell Ellie’s name and jump up and down when she does something good. Unfortunately, you are ‘here for a girl from North’. You doubt anyone is paying any attention, or cares for that matter. However, you are still on a secret mission. 

At one point in the game there is a collision, a defender from your school has to be helped off the field. You can’t tell what was wrong, probably her leg, though not being able to walk on her own could mean a concussion or something. You will have to ask Ellie later and check and see if the girl is ok.  

North played a good game, but not good enough. They weren't as fast or strategic. Between Ellie and Abby, North never stood a chance. 

When the game is over you slip right out. It’s not like you can talk to Ellie anyway, plus you’ve got an essay to revise. 

You: YOU DID GREAT TODAY

KILLED IT

BEST LACROSSE PLAYER I KNOW

A SUPERSTAR

Space Nerd🚀🤓: Thank you for coming:)

It really means so much to me💚

You: I love watching you play💕

Space Nerd🚀🤓: I have to take the bus back to school but can I call you when I’m driving home?

You: Looking forward to it:)

You answer the phone when Ellie calls, proud of her performance out on the field today. “My superstar! Fresh off another win!”

“Well I did have my lucky charm there,” she tried to remind you, deflect from herself. 

“Shhhhhhhh. That was all you, babe,” you assure her, truly meaning it. She doesn’t need any luck. 

“Babe?” Ellie questions and you are unable to gauge her reaction to the use of the pet name from her tone. You wish you could see her facial expression and read her body language right now. 

Fuck. Fuck! FUCK! You really did mess this up, didn’t you. Nice job, valiant effort. But you really screwed up. Goodbye short fling that has changed your life, you will be greatly missed. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, I…” you stutter, fearing you’ve made a grave mistake.

Ellie cuts you off. “I didn’t mean it that way. Not at all. I like it. A lot.” She doesn’t sound as confident as usual, more bashful. 

You are still nervous. This thing between the two of you? You aren’t quite sure that you will ever get used to it. It may never make sense. “So… it’s okay if I call you babe?”

“Yeah,” she responds immediately, making it sound as if it’s something you should have already known. “As long as it’s okay if I call you babe.”

“I think I can make that deal,” you laugh. 

“So what’s up babe?” Ellie asks, giggling. 

“Currently taking an intermission from essay revision.”

“That sounds riveting.” Effortlessly sarcastic, poking fun at you. That excites you, joking around with each other, the playful banter. 

“Hey I was wondering, what happened to that girl that got hurt? The defender that crashed into that tall girl while she was trying to score a goal. Is she okay? She looked like she could hardly walk.”

“Oh fuck! That happened, didn’t it. She dislocated her knee. Knee cap was totally in the wrong spot. Looked like a broken joystick. Super gross. It’s the 3rd time she’s done it so she has to get surgery. She’s out for the season now. At least she is a junior and not a senior.”

“Damn. That really sucks, I feel so bad for her.” You can’t imagine being taken away from something you’ve put so much work into. 

“Same. She’s our best defender too. And she’s the second one to get hurt this season. Now coach has to pull a player up from JV.”

“Hopefully that helps.”

“There is a freshman, actually, who is really good. Coach didn’t pull her up at the beginning of the season because we didn’t need another defender then. Her name is Jackie I think.”

“Jackie Laurent?”

“Yeah. You know her?”

“Jackie is Melissa’s younger sister,” Ellie is silent. “You probably have no idea who that is, do you. Caroline is one of my best friends. I’ve known Jackie since she was a toddler!” You are so proud of her. She’s been on the lacrosse grind for probably 10 years. Always up before everyone else when you slept over so she could go for a run. 

“Well maybe you will have an excuse to come to away games now,” Ellie proposes, her voice higher up in pitch than normal because she is so exhilarated. 

“Shit, you’re right! I’ll make it work,” you promise.

“You don’t even know how happy that makes me, babe.”

“Me too!”

You are both quiet for a moment, just so happy that you have to take a second to appreciate it. You can tell how wired Ellie is, you hear her drumming her hands on the steering wheel. 

“Joel says hi by the way, he saw you at the game,” Ellie informs you. 

That makes you gasp out loud. “Hi?… He said… how does he even know who I am?!?

“Well, I’m not usually so attached to my phone, he started asking questions. I ended up telling him about you. How you are nice, and smart, and beautiful, and amazing. Then he saw that Ivy League article in the school paper,” Ellie explains. “He was impressed. But not as much as he was surprised. Thinks you are out of my league. You know you’re the first girl I’ve ever bothered to tell him anything about?”

“Really?” It’s hard to believe you stand out from the rest, were more worth the conversation. 

“I’ve never really done the relationship thing before,” Ellie admits.

You knew that, knew her reputation, heard all the rumors. “But you could have, every girl at our school loves you.”

Ellie clears her throat. “They love that I’m popular and good in bed. No girl has ever cared to get to know me. They just wanted to say that they did. Casual… it wasn’t what I wanted. What I wanted was to feel wanted.”

You feel your heart breaking. “They all missed out. Big time. I’m so happy I’ve gotten to know you, I’m lucky to have had the opportunity. I care so, so much about you. You are incredibly special, Ellie.”

“You really think so?” Her voice is soft and shy. 

“I know you are. I’ve never met a girl like you before. And I mean that in the best way possible. Being assigned as your tutor is one of the best things that has ever happened to me.”

“Me too. And not just because you saved my grades. You saved me from feeling like I wasn’t good enough.” Her voice cracked on the word ‘good’.

“Ellie…” your chest hurts. You try to find the right words to comfort her but she keeps talking before you manage to string a sentence together. 

“I really mean that. I didn’t think I was worth more than a hookup or being something to show off. That I couldn’t offer anything that wasn’t just physical. But you want me, even though no one knows that you have me. You helped me see what I’ve had inside of me all along.”

You take a sharp breath, trying to keep yourself from getting too emotional. “You are so important to me. You always will be.”

“I don’t think you understand the impact you’ve made on my life.” A subdued confession from Ellie, who is seemingly nervous to reveal this to you. 

“I don’t think you understand the impact you’ve made on my life,” you emphasize, you want Ellie to know how much you value her. 

Ellie pauses for a moment. You aren’t used to her being so quiet, you’re unsure of whether or not you should be nervous. 

“That’s enough being sappy for today,” she sighs. “I’d rather look you in the eyes when I tell you this type of stuff.”

“That’s so sweet,” you like this emotional and vulnerable side of Ellie, getting to see deeper inside of her. 

“So is your face.” Ellie really is slick, isn’t she. Always got a line to pull out of her pocket. 

“Your freckles are sweet and cute,” you point out. 

“Well now I have a bruise on my face from today’s game,” Ellie grumbles. 

How dare someone go anywhere near such a precious beautiful face with such aggression? 

“What?” You practically yell into the phone. “Who did that? I’m going to find them and give them a piece of my mind!” You hear a little “hehe” from Ellie and you don’t appreciate her lack of respect for how much you like looking at her face. 

“Babe,” her voice is soothing to help bring you back down a notch. “We won, isn’t that what really matters?”

You let out a disappointed huff. “I guess.”

Ellie laughs. “Let me handle all the fist fights, okay?”

“No! I’m begging you please don’t get into a fist fight.”

“Begging?” Her voice is lower and more intense than usual. It’s hot. But you do need to get your point across. 

“Ellie please!”

“That’s exactly what I like to hear.” She’s doing her best to try and seduce you. It’s working for sure, but you can’t have her going around fighting people.

Your mouth curved into a frown, trying to think of the best way to get her to listen to you. “I know how to get through to you,” you tell her after a brief pause to collect your thoughts. “Don’t get rough with anyone but me.”

Ellie makes a sound that is almost like a moan. “Well when you put it that way…”

“No more fights?” You question with urgency. She doesn’t need any trouble or injuries. 

“I won’t start any fights,” she promises.

“Always throw the last punch, but never the first.”

Ellie chuckles. “I think you and Joel will get along.”

“I hope so.” You bite your lip. You know how important he is to Ellie, the thought of him not liking you makes you feel sick to your stomach. 

“He’s met other girls… in passing, and let’s just say no one’s ever… made a good impression. Or that he was fond of my, uh, behaviors,” she explains sheepishly. 

You tease her. “I’ve made an honest woman out of you.”

“You really have. I think you are the answer to Joel’s prayers.”

“Truly an angel sent from above,” you joke. 

“Sure look like one.” This girl really is smooth. 

“Why don’t you tell me more about Joel.”

Ellie starts to talk about Joel, her admiration for him present in her tone. She explains that he will be quiet at first. Probably get to know you before he lets you get to know him. He can get along with anyone, he’s a great guy, but he likes his time to himself. Values peace and quiet. She doesn’t explain the history of their relationship. Just that they've been through a lot together, and that she’s going to miss him a lot when she leaves for college. 

You realize you hadn't talked about this yet with her. “Where are you going to college?”

“Boston.”

“Boston College??” You question, that makes the most sense, but also not a lot. 

“Yeah,” Ellie tells you proudly. 

“How did you…” you trail off. You don’t want to offend her, but Boston College is not easy to get into. 

She chuckles. “Get in? Well my grades weren’t always so bad. Not until after I got into college and started fucking around full time. I was a solid B student before that. Don’t get me wrong, my grades weren’t good enough, but my coach is an alumni and had some pull.”

Lacrosse, that checks out. You know Ellie has academic potential, but Boston College has such a low acceptance rate. “So they are good at lacrosse?”

“Last year's national champions,” she states matter of factly, proud of herself. As she should be! 

“Shit. You really are good at lacrosse, aren’t you? I knew you were good, but I had no measure for comparison. It’s like trying to understand the force of an object on another planet. A completely different gravitational constant!”

“I know exactly what you mean babe,” Ellie snickers, and you silently scold yourself for nerding out on her. “When I heard you were going to Brown, I did some research. About an hour drive between us. I didn’t want to say anything right away though and be weird.”

That kills your good mood. Not the research, thinking about the reality of what will happen to the two of you when you leave for college. There isn’t even a label on your relationship yet. You probably won’t even make it to senior prom together because you are keeping things a secret. “You are going to be playing on a D1, nationally ranked team, with girls throwing themselves at you. You’ll forget all about your high school tutor.” Sad, but true. 

“You aren’t just my tutor! You are so much more than that. And even if you were, you are the hottest tutor on the planet. You’ll pull as a tutor, no doubt. But I bet you are going to be a teacher's assistant too, and have entire college lectures full of women in STEM falling for you.” Ellie sounds almost a little… panicked? She’s jealous? Does she really care that much? Is there hope for the two of you?

The overexaggerated implication is very amusing to you. Her jealousy has you feeling a little lighter, it reminded you how much she cares.  “So we both have some competition,” you joke. 

“I will be visiting Brown, and fending those smart girls off with my lacrosse stick if I have to.” There isn't a hint of sarcasm in Ellie’s voice. You can picture it now, her threatening some Ivy League engineering student in her full lacrosse get up. 

“I’ll have some heavy textbooks to bring to your games,” you tell her as seriously as you can, but you can’t say it all without giggling. 

“You are stuck with me now. No other girl is catching my attention. You are my girl. I only want you.” Ellie’s voice is stern, the way a life guard tells you not to dive in the shallow end. Like it’s about safety… maybe it’s about security. 

Your heart flutters, hearing Ellie vocalize her dedication to you. That requires a deep breath to try and settle your racing pulse.  “Good, because I don’t back down from things so easily. Would have been really annoying for you.”

“I much prefer you to go down than back down.” There’s that unserious charm you know and love. 

“I’m sure you would. I’ll make note of that,” you promise her. 

“There will be a test.”

“Well the only straight thing about me is my As.”

“You are starting to sound like me,” Ellie points out mischievously. “But I just pulled onto my street, so I’ll say goodbye now, and text you later?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Talk to you later, babe.”

“Bye, babe!”

When you park your car the next morning you have a text from Ellie. “Don’t go into homeroom right away.”

Your locker isn’t far from the room so you wait there, you know she knows where it is. The locker door is left ajar, to make it seem like there’s a purpose for standing there. No sign of her anywhere. The bell rings and you hope she’s close by, you don’t want to be too late. 

The last of the students that had been milling around start going to their respective home rooms. Then you spot her.

Auburn hair, half up half down. Beat up converse. Ripped jeans. A black t-shirt under a black and gray flannel. Ellie is waiting down the hall from you, looking smug. She waves at you and you are surprised, you aren’t totally alone, but wave right back. Ellie doesn’t move towards you though. She just watches, like she’s expecting you to leave right away. 

But you know what? Fuck it.

You shut your locker and strut towards her. Shoulders back, chin in the air. There’s only two other people in the hallway at this point. As you approach her, she looks very surprised, but just as happy. When you are right in front of her you look and see the two other student’s backs are to you. You give her a kiss, turn around, and go to your homeroom. 

Tags: @bready101, @st4r-b3rries, @tlou-bombshell, @stvrs13, @dinanellie, @everegretseverything, @mikellie, @lamolaine, @0pheli4, @soupycloud, @radioheadfan699, @callmelola111, @hysteriawillnotsuccumb, @normalthing111, @3isosoup, @lmaoo-spiderman, @cqliflower, @ellstronaut

(I most of these aren't even tagging, if you are tagged and it's not working lmk, I can try and fix it!!! I also think some people have changed usernames so if you have, I can replace it!!

[jackiefruitfreezedried]

Stuffed with Love

Lottielee Weekend Day 2: Alternative Prompt: Pre-crash romcom. Bonus if it’s narrated by Leonard.

- I replaced lots of the com with religious trauma😀

- internalized homophobia

- Laura Lee centric

🧸🙏🧸🙏🧸🙏🧸🙏🧸🙏🧸🙏🧸🙏🧸🙏

Laura Lee always clutches the straps of her backpack like she’s bracing for turbulence, even when we’re just walking into the school library. She’s usually cheery, but sometimes when she’s nervous, she acts like Carrie White just without the superpowers.

She’s the kind of girl who thinks too much about the rules even when no one else is paying attention. The kind who brings her Bible to group projects and apologizes if she thinks too hard about swearing.

She keeps me in the top pocket, zipper half-down so I can breathe. (Her words, not mine.)

She says I’m a reminder of God’s presence. I say nothing, because I’m a stuffed bear. But I’ve seen her cry into a pew, and I’ve heard her whisper prayers so soft they barely reached her lips. I know she means it.

Today, she’s not thinking about God.

She’s thinking about Lottie Matthews.

Lottie, who is already at the study table, legs folded underneath her like she’s somehow comfortable in those old wooden chairs. She looks up when we approach, gives Laura Lee a smile, kind but distant, like she chooses to exist just slightly apart from everything.

“You’re early” Lottie says.

Laura Lee adjusts her cross necklace, even though it’s already perfectly straight. “You said you needed help with the reading.”

Lottie shrugs. “I said I wish I had help. Not the same thing.”

Laura Lee takes the seat across from her and opens her copy of the book they were assigned this week.

She places me gently on the table. I pretend not to notice the way her hands are shaking.

“I think the book is about choosing your convictions over comfort” she says, voice tight and formal like she’s reciting something she practiced. “Even when it hurts.”

Lottie studies her for a long moment.

“Do you always think that hard about everything?” she asks, but not unkindly.

Laura Lee flinches like it’s a criticism, but Lottie tilts her head and adds, “It’s kind of… cool. It shows how much you care.”

Laura Lee looks down. I don’t think she knows what to do with that.

Lottie leans forward slightly. “And the bear?”

“This is Leonard,” she says, not looking up. “He’s… well. I guess he’s a reminder that I’m not alone.”

Lottie doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t tease.

She reaches out one finger and taps my paw.

“Hi, Leonard” she says quietly.

Something shifts. Just slightly. Laura Lee looks up then, startled, like she expected to be mocked but instead found something else.

She doesn’t say much else that doesn’t have to do with the book for the rest of the study period. But she doesn’t stop looking at Lottie either, she keeps glancing up.

And me?

I sit between them on the table, stitched and silent, but feeling the weight of something starting.

Like they know each other as teammates, but they’re gonna know each other as more soon.

.🌞➡️🌚.

Back when she was eight, Laura Lee told me her bed was the safest place in the world—right after the church pews—it was her place for the nights she cried after prayers, the nights she didn’t pray at all, and the nights she pretended not to care that she didn’t.

Tonight feels… different.

She flopped onto the bed the second we got home, face-down, arms out, like she’d just survived something. Which, I guess, she kind of did. Her crush she won’t admit is a crush.

Lottie Matthews. A shared table. A smile that didn’t feel like a joke. The kind of silence that made her think, not panic (well, maybe gay panic).

It’s been hours. Her shoes are still on. Her homework’s still in her bag. The book is somewhere on the floor with a bent corner that’s definitely going to bother her tomorrow.

I’m propped up on her nightstand now, watching as she finally turns off her stomach, she stares at the ceiling like it has answers.

She sighs. Rolls over. Picks me up and holds me against her chest like I can calm her down just by being soft.

“I didn’t say anything weird” she mumbles, more to herself than to me. “I was totally normal.”

A pause.

“I think.”

Her voice cracks like she doesn’t believe it.

She suddenly sits up fast.

“She liked you” she tells me, pointing at my paw. “You! She smiled at you.”

Laura Lee flops back again and lets out the kind of groan I usually only hear after youth choir practice.

“It probably doesn’t mean anything..”

But she’s smiling now. Just a little. Just enough.

🌌➡️🌄⚽️

It’s not like her unzipped backpack that still allows light through, it’s dark in here.

I’ve been in uncomfortable places—the bottom of a laundry basket, the glove compartment during a heat wave, that one time she dropped me behind the church pew and didn’t realize until communion. But this is a new kind of exile.

Her gym bag.

Zipped up. Cramped. Smelly. Wedged between a water bottle that definitely isn’t closed all the way (that’s gonna bother her) and a scrunchie that smells like dry shampoo and sweat.

Outside, the field stretches wide. I can’t see it. But I know where we are. Practice.

Laura Lee never talks much about soccer, she says it’s “good exercise” but she talks more about her teammates than the sport itself.

Whistles blow in the distance. Shoes stomp across the grass. The thud of a ball meeting cleats.

Then, laughter.

Sharp. Familiar. A bit spooky. Her laugh.

Lottie.

I shift a little as the bag moves, like someone just sat down beside it with a bump. There’s a pause. Then a voice, soft, low.

The first part is too muffled for me to hear (annoying🙄) but I hear the second bit..

“That’s cute.”

I think Laura Lee chokes. Maybe not literally, but something tightens in her posture. I can tell by the way the bag rustles and tilts, like she shifted away grabbing at it for something to do with her hands.

Then I hear the girls again, someone yelling for the ball, the thud of a pass.

They move away. The voices stretch thinner, blending into the usual chaos of practice. Whistles. Shouting. Laughter. The sounds of ordinary teenage girls trying very hard not to show how much they care.

Me? I wait in the dark.

Sticky with the spilled water droplets. Wondering how many more moments like that she’ll pretend don’t matter.

Because I’ve been with her long enough to know when she’s starting to hope.

And when her hope turns to faith and she puts it in that girl, I hope she’s gentle with it and doesn’t break her heart.

⚽️➡️🚶🏼‍♀️🚶🏻‍♀️

There’s something sacred about the walk home after practice.

It’s that weird stretch of time for her when your body’s tired but your brain’s still going, when everything smells like grass and sweat and possibility. Normally, Laura Lee uses this time to listen to hymns on her walkman, sometimes she sings along under her breath.

But not today.

Because Lottie Matthews is walking beside her.

And I am tucked under her arm, right where I belong, blessedly out of the gym bag and back in the fresh air, though the shoulder of her jersey is damp with sweat, and it’s making my fur cling weird.

Lottie’s hands are in her pockets. She’s not walking too close, but not far either. Just… near.

“Do you always bring him to practice?” she asks eventually, glancing my way.

Laura Lee’s grip tightens slightly. “Only sometimes.” The Laura Lee? Lying?

“It’s okay” Lottie says. “I think it’s nice.”

“You don’t think it’s unusual?”

Lottie shrugs. “It is. But I like that.”

Laura Lee heats up at that, particularly her cheeks.

They walk for a while in quiet, the sound of cars rolling by and cicadas in the trees filling the space between them.

Laura Lee adjusts me against her side like I might be sliding. (I’m not.)

“He’s been with me a long time,” she says suddenly. “Leonard.”

Lottie looks at me same as she did when they studied. It’s not like most people do, not with a scowl or a squint, but like I’m a real thing worth acknowledging.

“You ever think about giving him up?”

Laura Lee blinks. “What? No. Why would I?”

Yeah, why would she??

Lottie shrugs but her expression isn’t nonchalant “Sometimes people let go of things when they think they’re not supposed to need them anymore.”

Laura Lee doesn’t respond. Her jaw shifts like she’s biting back a verse, a rule, a defense.

Then she says, “Well… I still need him.”

It’s quiet again save for the cicadas.

They’re close to Laura Lee’s street now. The houses are all spaced evenly, porches lit, grass trimmed. Safe. Familiar. A place where things are supposed to make sense.

But now Lottie is here, and she doesn’t make sense to Laura Lee, not in the way she should.

“You don’t have to walk me all the way” Laura Lee says, even though they’re already nearly there.

“I know” Lottie replies. “But I want to.”

She looks up at the streetlight, blinking into the soft yellow halo like she sees something in it.

It’s quite in a way Laura Lee doesn’t know what to do with now, so she looks down, flushed. Her thumb strokes the seam on my paw. The way she does when she’s thinking too hard.

They stop at the bottom of the driveway.

Laura Lee doesn’t move to go inside yet.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Lottie asks.

Laura Lee nods. “Yeah. Sure.”

And Lottie turns—just like that— and walks back down the sidewalk, not hurried, not dramatic.

Just… gone.

Laura Lee stands there a moment longer, then looks down at me.

“She’s weird” she says.

Her voice is quiet.

“I don’t know what she wants.”

Then softer “I don’t know what I want.”

I don’t have answers. I technically don’t have a brain.

But I’ve held her—(well, she’s held me)—through every restless night, and I know this much, I know that she’s scared.

Which means she’s probably right where she’s supposed to be. She needs to be brave.

🌚➡️🌞⛪️

Church smells like old (people) paper and must. It’s always too cold in here, like the AC’s working overtime to prove something. I’ve spent more time under these pews than most toddlers. I know the pattern of the carpet. I know who sings loudest. I know when she’s faking her “holy face.”

And right now?

She is definitely faking.

Laura Lee’s hands are folded neatly in her lap. Bible resting on top. Back straight. Mouth set like she’s carved it out of stone.

But her knee won’t stop bouncing.

The pastor is in full rhythm, voice rising and falling like waves. He’s talking about strength. About resisting.

And then he says it: “Temptation doesn’t always come looking like sin”

Laura Lee flinches.

“Sometimes it looks like comfort, even kindness”

Another flinch.

“And that’s when it’s hardest, when it feels good. When it feels like love”

She’s not breathing.

“But it’s not love, love is pure. This is deceit.”

Her hands tighten around the edge of the Bible. Her lips press together so hard they turn white.

The AC breathes heavily. Someone coughs in the back row. A baby squeals and gets carried out.

Laura Lee is unraveling silently.

I watch from the shadows, powerless but present. Because what else is a bear supposed to do?

There’s nothing wicked about Lottie’s smile. Nothing cruel about the way she listens.

But Laura Lee’s heart is pounding like she just got caught doing something wrong, and all she did was walk home with a girl who made her stomach swarm with butterflies.

The pastor keeps going. He’s moved on to self-control now. To denying the flesh. He’s quoting scripture, and people around him are nodding, saying “amen” in that rhythmic way that means they’ve stopped thinking and started agreeing.

Laura Lee doesn’t do anything but stare ahead, jaw set, like she can sit perfectly still and that will save her.

Like if she doesn’t move, the feelings won’t be real.

But I know they’re real, I’ve seen it in the red in her cheeks, in the fear in her eyes.

I just hope she realizes Lottie is what makes her pupils dilate, the fear is just a virus spread by people who are blind to the dilation and imagine it as something twisted.

.⛪️➡️🧎‍♀️.

She kneels beside her bed, the floor almost seems sunken in from all the times she’s been there.

Her hands are clasped. Eyes closed. The lamp on her nightstand glows warm illuminating her cross, but everything else feels cold.

“Dear God,” she begins, steady and soft. “Thank you for this day. For the blessings I don’t deserve. For the strength to keep my heart clean.”

She swallows hard.

“And… please forgive me if I’ve let it wander.”

She pauses.

Long enough that I know she’s not just searching for words. She’s trying to decide if she even wants to say them out loud.

I sit right beside her pillow. Propped upright, eyes forward. I don’t blink. I don’t breathe. But if she’s going to confess, I’ll be here to know.

Even if she can’t say it to God yet.

“I don’t think I meant to… feel anything” she says, eyes still shut. “I didn’t even think she was… like that, I don’t condemn. I mean, I’m not-”

Her mouth clamps shut.

Then, after a beat, she turns and sits on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumping like her spine can’t hold this much confusion upright anymore.

She looks at me.

And I mean really looks at me. Like I’m going to judge her.

Like I could.

She picks me up and holds me in her lap. Fingers fidget with the worn stitching of my body.

“She’s just… nice” she whispers. “That’s all.”

Another pause.

“She’s kind of strange. But not in a bad way. And when she talks, it feels like she sees things other people don’t.”

And another pause.

“And she thinks I’m interesting. Me. The “Bible Thumper””

Her voice cracks, just a little.

“But that’s not supposed to matter.”

Her eyes go to the ceiling, not searching for God, exactly, but for a rule.

“I’ve never felt this way about- about anyone. Not like this. Not where it feels like a secret even I don’t understand.”

She swallows again. Harder this time.

“I thought if I just prayed more, it would go away.”

She’s crying now, and she’s mad about it. Brushing the tears away before they can fall properly. Pressing her palm to her face like she can shove them back in.

“But it’s not wrong to like someone who listens” she mutters. “Right? It’s not wrong to want someone to think you matter.”

She curls toward the blanket, tucks me under her chin, like she did when she was five and had nightmares about getting left behind after the rapture.

Her voice goes small.

“I don’t want to feel like this. I don’t want to feel bad.”

I can’t say anything.

But if I could, I’d tell her wanting comfort isn’t sin. And if it is, then so is being human. So is loving anything at all.

But I’m just a bear.

And tonight, all I can do is stay soft while she falls asleep pretending she’s not hoping to see Lottie again tomorrow.

🌚➡️🌞🏫

I’ve seen the inside of every classroom this school has to offer.

As you know, usually I ride in her backpack, snug & safe. Unless no one else is around, well, maybe Lottie. But today? Today, she’s carrying me.

Not hiding me like I’m not real. Just… walking down the hall with me like I’m her purse or her bible.

Judging by how many people have already stared, whispered, or given her that look, this was a bold move.

She doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she’s just pretending not to.

Her mind must be preoccupied on something, because she turns the corner too fast, and collides into someone.

And then I go flying. Right into the middle of the hallway.

I land facedown on the tile, which is both mortifying and dusty—(and is that gum? Ew.) The footsteps scatter. Voices quiet.

And then a familiar voice speaks up. “Leonard?”

I’m flipped over gently.

Lottie Matthews is crouched there, holding me like I’m something she expected to see again.

Laura Lee, does not run away, rather she freezes.

“Here” Lottie gently hands me back.

Laura Lee’s face does something strange. Like she’s trying to smile and grimace at the same time. Like her heart skipped and her lungs forgot to breathe.

She snatches me back, clutching me to her chest. I’m used to this grip. It usually comes right before a meltdown or a pleading prayer.

“You don’t have to explain, you know. I’ve seen him before, and you know..” Lottie adds, softer now. “I think it’s sweet.”

Lottie sure thinks a lot of things about me.

Laura Lee won’t look at her. She mumbles, “It’s not supposed to be sweet.”

Lottie blinks. “Why not?”

“Because it’s embarrassing” Laura Lee mutters. “Because it’s not something people do.”

Lottie tilts her head.

“Well, you do.”

There was a silence that felt more like a revelation but it was interrupted by the bell, which means things would have time to simmer until after class.

.👩‍🏫➡️🍽️.

The cafeteria is too loud. Always is.

Trays clatter. People yell across tables even though they’re five feet apart. Someone’s building a juice box pyramid. Someone else is making a mess doodling with the insides of their pudding cup (art nowadays).

Laura Lee ignores all of it.

She picks the quietest corner she can find—near the exit, under a flickering light, right between the vending machine and the trash that releases strange unpleasant smells.

And she sets me on the table in front of her.

Straight up. Centered. Like a dinner guest.

She’s not even pretending to eat. Just poking the square of.. lasagna? like it personally offended her.

Her brow is furrowed in that deep, silent way it gets when she’s praying with her eyes open.

“She probably just thinks I’m weird” she suddenly whispers. “Carrying a bear around like I’m five. Talking to him. Dropping him in public.”

She stops and corrects herself.

“You. Sorry.”

I don’t take it personally.

She pushes the food around, then slumps back in her chair, arms crossed like she’s mad at the tray for not solving this for her.

“She’s just… really nice. And when she looks at me, it’s like I matter. Not just to God. But to her.”

She says the last part so quietly like it’s blasphemous. She sits there for a long moment, like maybe if she doesn’t move, she can un-say it. Un-feel it.

“Why is this so wrong if it also feels so… good?”

She looks at me. I stare back.

And in the silence, she lets herself feel it—just for a second—before she folds back in on herself, cheeks red, hands tightly holding her spork.

“I’m not supposed to like anyone that much” she mutters. “Especially not her.”

The bell rings again.

She packs up in a rush, scooping me under one arm like I might shield her from her own thoughts.

But I don’t think she wants to forget them.

I think she just doesn’t know what to do now that they’re real. Or rather, now that she’s starting to accept they’re real.

.🏫➡️🏠.

After school, we’re walking home. Well, Laura Lee is walking. I’m being cradled against her side.

She’s got her Walkman today, listening to that tape she made—the one that’s half hymns and half soft acoustic songs she says aren’t love songs, even though they very obviously are.

Her mouth moves sometimes, just a little. Quietly mouthing along to lyrics.

Her eyes are far away, her brow slightly furrowed. Like every verse is opening a door she isn’t sure she’s ready to walk through.

And then-

A gentle tug.

One headphone slips out of her ear.

She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t jolt or gasp or whirl around like she’s been caught sneaking from the cookie jar before dinner.

She just… pauses.

And then looks over.

Lottie stands beside her, holding the dangling earbud between two fingers.

“Hey” Lottie says, slipping into stride like once means they always walk home together.

“Hi” Laura Lee replies, like maybe this is normal.

Like Lottie gently invading her personal space is totally fine.

Like her heart isn’t currently pounding so hard she can feel it trying to break through her chest.

Lottie offers a small smile. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t” Laura Lee says.

Lottie nods, looking just a little pleased.

“Wasn’t sure if I’d catch you.”

Laura Lee raises a brow. “Why were you trying?”

Lottie hesitates. Then shrugs, casual.

“I just wanted to talk. Maybe… finish the conversation from yesterday?”

There wasn’t a real conversation yesterday. But Laura Lee doesn’t correct her.

Instead, she stops the tape with a little click, she may have two ears but there’s still no way she could focus on the music while Lottie’s voice is in her other ear.

Then Laura Lee asks, “What did you want to say?”

Lottie’s quiet for a second longer than expected.

Then “I think I’ve been trying to say it for a while. But I didn’t want to mess it up.”

Laura Lee’s fingers tighten slightly around me; “You don’t have to say it if it’s not time” she says quickly. “Sometimes things are… between the lines. And that’s okay.”

Lottie glances at her.

“I don’t think you’re weird you know” she says suddenly. “For the Leonard, or sitting alone, or being the only person in school who prays like she means it.”

Laura Lee stops walking. She turns just enough to look at Lottie, trying to look through her soul.

“You notice a lot of things.”

Lottie grins. “Yeah I do, I just have trouble understanding them sometimes.”

Laura Lee opens her mouth. Closes it again. And then the former “I think I’ve been trying not to like you.”

Lottie takes that in with the kind of stillness most people don’t have.

“Is it working?”

Laura Lee looks down at me. Holds me a little closer.

“No.”

And Lottie—brave, weird Lottie—just smiles.

They start walking again.

Still no hand-holding. Still no big sweeping kiss like the resolution at the end of a movie.

But the space between them?

It’s almost gone.

🧸🙏🧸🙏🧸🙏🧸🙏🧸🙏🧸🙏🧸🙏🧸🙏

Also Available on My AO3: nightowlxcaffiene

Hopefully is isn’t frowned upon to write for both the prompt, and alternate prompt😅

Note: This wasn’t meant to show Laura Lee’s faith in god as bad, more so to show the very big flaws in the church. I actually go into it more in another fic, that I’m probably gonna post soon.

[grazieschillivera]

Longing curses 2/5

-His persuasions-

Chapter Summary: After the little incident at the dueling club Tom has to start over to win you back. Now that he knows how the little dance of love works, he decides to not only show you how similar you both are but also shares a new secret with you

Word count: ca. 2000

Warnings/tags: some fluff (I guess), manipulation, making out

Some days went by. Tom could feel how tense you were again in his presence and he started to think about how he should show you that you were wrong. One afternoon Tom's studying got softly interrupted when a gentle laughter echoed through the shelfs. His head turned around in curiosity. He had never heard such a sweet laugh and his heart arched in a unknown way once his eyes found you. You stood there with a friend who just made you giggle and you suppressed the rest of it to not interrupt the other students further while you gave your friend a warm smile - instead of him, he thought. He was supposed to make you laugh, you should be at his side by now. Maybe you were right. He had to give something to get something, love needed commitment. True commitment, and Tom needed to find a way to share this with you without breaking himself.

                                                ✧ ⊹ I ✧ ⊹

A week later you had curfew again. Occasionally you would see some of the other prefects when your routes almost crossed.

,,Coffee?'' a voice next to you asked, making you stop in your admiring of the painting over the library entrance. The shadow next to you was easy to recognize. Unsure you looked down at Toms bottle.

,,Its safe, see. Helps with the tiredness'' he said while he held the bottle in front of you after he had taken a swallow.

,,Thanks'' you said when you took it from him. Your gazes were still locked.

,,You can trust me. I have every book I want. But I want to go inside to show you something'' he said. You drank some of the coffee and even though it was welcomed, your lips still curled down due to the bitter taste. Or maybe because of the offering Tom gave you.

,,I'm not interest in you showing me whatever you have in mind'' you said handing over his drink.

,,You don't mean that. I fear you misunderstood me last week. Give me another chance'' Tom said and made a step to the library’s huge wooden door, but you blocked his way by standing up in front of him.

,,I'm very clear with my opinions. You're just as cunning and self-serving as your friends, you don't care about others and just want things your way'' you said.

,,If I am all those things, then why do you think I had invited you to the club? Like it or not but I'm not the person you want me to be. In fact, I think you are scared to look at me without your assumptions. Thinking if you don't keep those borders up, you will get lost between them'' Tom said, showing you that he didn't lose his confidence despite your little argument some time ago.

,,Don't think of me as so stupid. I might suck in dueling but I'm not beneath you Tom! I know what I want. In a different world I would be a win for you.'' you said and tried to make you a bit bigger to meet his eyes. His relaxed smile really frustrated you.

,,Of course you would be. Thats why I like you. Me and you could be something special. Is my motive still so self-serving now?'' he asked still standing before you but not in an intimidating way you noticed. More like a friend who tried to talk you out of something harmful.

,,Well yes. After all I'm not interested. And I still have your little secret about you letting your friends sneak out during curfew. I will tell Professor Dumbledore tomorrow if you don't let it be Tom'' you said but not as sternly as intended.

,,Using our shared secrets as blackmail – who is cunning now? Seems we aren't so different from one another after all'' said Tom but you did not join his amusement.

,,No we are not. I follow rules, I treat people equally.'' you said confidently, knowing Tom had nothing in his hands that could harm your reputation.

An unsettled cry reaches your ear and you stop.

,,Thats in my wing'' you said and walked back upstairs. Tom followed you.

                                               ✧ ⊹ II ✧ ⊹

,,Its curfew. What are you doing here?'' Tom asked before you could.

A girl sat on a bench and wiped her tears from her cheek. She muttered something about her ex boyfriend and how she couldn't get back into her dorm, because he and his new girlfriend were there. Tom showed less interest in her excuse. With big steps he approached her to bring her to her head teacher.

,,Tom wait'' you said and walked in his way.

,,Its against the rules. Easy as that Y/N'' said Tom. Even though he didn’t care about the girl he still found himself very thankful of this lucky coincidence.

,,My wing, my understanding of the rules Tom'' you said, trying to not make a fool of yourself considering what you just had stated about your loyalty to rules. The way you said his name added more fun at his persuasions. Up to now it sounded always like a warning call but it would soon fade into something more suitable for his expectations.

Eventually Tom gave in and promised to accept your wish.

,,Please don't'' you simply said when your eyes met Toms again when you walked back.

,,I'm not judging your actions. Why should I? But since you are so keen to keep your reputation, you gave me a new secret. And I would like to trade it for a little favor. Just as you did'' said Tom, enjoying this feeling about giving you a taste of your own medicine.

,,Back then in the Pub I explained to you how getting to know someone works. I never thought you would misinterpret it so wrongly'' you said already knowing that you would go inside the library.

Tom lazily defended his actions, he already was occupied with other things in his mind but he played along for you.

,, You're sure this is a good idea. I'm not used doing such things'' you said silently, when you sneaking closely behind Tom, even though he had politely held the gate of the forbidden area open.

,,You'll be fine just stay quiet''. Tom took hold of your hand and walked confidently along the corridor, as if it was his wing that you walked in.

Due to the moonlight the bookshelves shimmered whitely when you passed them. You could only hear your own footsteps and it felt like Tom and you were somewhere completely else.

                                                ✧ ⊹ III ✧ ⊹

,,Sit down. I will be right back'' Tom said softly like he knew you needed someone to calm you down a bit. After all breaking rules made you still feel uneasy. He pointed to a bench that stood between some bookshelves from where you could look at a huge tapestry that showed the founders of Hogwarts. The air was cool.

Tom came back with a huge old book. On it laid a smaller one, that he took beside him. He tested the waters and asked you somethings about the founders. You both started to talk about it freely enjoying each other’s knowledge.

,,I have a next secret I would like to share with you. You Hufflepuffs can be trusted right?'' Tom said, his lips almost formed a grin. He seemed to suppress a feeling. Was it confidence? Or was it out of tension?

,,Sure I wont tell. Promise'' you said with a low voice prepared to stay open minded but carful.

For a moment you both shared in intense look. It was as if Tom wanted to read you despite your promise to be trustworthy. It crossed your mind that your odd friend fought an urge within him. But you couldn't really tell what it exactly was.

At first he kept his usual practical attitude he had whenever he talked to someone. Only the last part started to sound strange. For one second you thought it wasn't Tom who talked to you but then you figured, that this person was the actual Tom, or at least another part of him you hadn't seen until now:

,,Since my researches I finally understand myself, what I am, what I am capable of. I read everything from him, one day I will know all his secrets'' Tom said.

After am moment of silence he started to talk about the relationship Salazar Slytherin and Helga Hufflepuff shared in their lifetime. Loudly he questioned how they could share such a good bond, that was so infamous in Salazars diary, then he looked at you. Although he didn't mention it, you could sense what he thought after his last words. It made your stomach twist. But was it out of fear or curiosity?

You said that you are not the heir of Helga with a chuckle and that you don't live for this amount of pathos in your life. But it was useless, Tom saw something great within you. You couldn't change his mind and I a strange way you realized it did something to you. Being praised and called for the things you did so dearly. So you decided to also open up for him because that was what this night was about. Tom had decided to be honest instead of cunning. He was one of the good ones, it was clear to see for you.

 A bit shy you brought a book out of your robes pocket and presented an article that shows your family, who has a little reputation considering healing potions and herbology. It was almost like an unspoken law since the accident in the club to keep your distance from Tom but something made you break it.

You shared your story- that the glory vanished because your parents and grandparents had different interests, and that was completely fine for you. No one should practice something that made him unhappy. Nevertheless, you like it to sometimes research about your family from those better times. You found an ancestor of your father fell in love with someone very smart and they both ended up starting the little glory of you family.

,,I understand you, I do the same sometimes. Having a look in the past can give some orientation for what can be possible. Its like looking in a twisted mirror.'' you said still a bit lost in your memories about your family. After your words there was a cozy silence in the room. Being here didn’t feel forbidden anymore. It felt comforting.

,,I like this thought.'', Tom admitted showing his approval. You looked back at him and gave him an honest smile.

Now you knew what Tom searched for in life, and he knew what you searched for in a partner. And suddenly he became not only the keeper of your secret but also the answer to it.

With your permission Tom read some phrases out of Salazars diary to you and you started to get lost in the way his voice sounded so softly and his eyes now and then flew away from the lines and lingered on you. The words that held such a dangerous ambiguity couldn't reach your mind anymore, it was directed to Tom and the feeling he started to give you. At some point his hand had reached out for yours, he softly pressed it before using his words again.

,,I respect your values. Actually, we are quite similar Y/N. The difference between us is that I'm willing to prefer some people over others. Thats passion, isn't it? When there is this one person who outshines the others-who is simply more important'' he said and led your hand carefully to his lips to savor the feeling of your skin on them in such a way that your cheeks turned hot.

While you had the feeling that you and Tom melted into each other, Tom had the impression to finally wrap you around his finger, now you fell in love for him as well. At this moment you could only see him. Those not so beneficial values of your house would just vanish over time if you devote yourself truly to him. He would take care of it, and of you.

The hold Tom had on your arm stayed while his lips caressed your skin of it, carefully testing how close you would let him be.

,,You can't treat everyone the same Y/N.'' said Tom. He suppressed his satisfaction with you, who finally started to think, that you and him were possible. That only your mind was in your way of happiness.

,,And you don't want to treat me just as everyone else. Whenever I read about Salazars past, I see us. Just give it a taste Y/N'' added Tom close to your face after he had shoved you softly closer against him.

Slow and deep beats of your heart pounded against your and Toms chest, he was so close to you, he could feel how you were. If he couldn't see your pleading gaze, he had thought you planed on running away. But you weren't. Your mind told your body to stay still, Tom was finally in your head. To reward you, he pressed his lips against yours and felt how you fought against your last insecurities, while moving your lips shyly against his.

Patience, was all Tom had to remind himself of. Not only towards you. He realized despite his lust for you, that he was also in some way shy about this new form of intimacy. Still he would keep the control of it for you.

,,Doesn't this feel right? You feel so good Y/N. How can you ever deny us something so good again?'' Tom asked between wet kisses, that grew hotter the more he got lost in the feeling of your sweet lips and tongue that tried to keep up with his pace. It only made it harder for you to answer Tom, who demanded it.

But your shy nods and 'yes's weren't enough for him. Within minutes Tom had pulled you on his lap. His hands caressed the soft skin right underneath your breasts while his lips were attached to your neck to get every little moan out of you, that you tried to hid. You were in a library after all. But now fully consumed by this new ecstasy you moaned every answer out of your mouth he wanted to hear from you.

You looked down at Tom's eyes. They were so dark and yet so clear, that you could see yourself in them. And while you eyed this new side of yours, you also observed how Tom seemed to experience the same with you. 

The moment felt so unusual intense that your hands searched for Toms as a comfort, that were still around your ribcage. Before some fitting words of luck could be formed from your lips, Tom pressed his lips against yours again. It felt all so good your mind kept running and your heart beat so fast that you felt like a star that could explode. So you just made him stop.

Back on your spot on the bench you tried to study his feelings. For a second some kind of hurt crossed his frowned faced. Was it love that he wanted or was this just a trap you were naive enough to have fallen into for a brief moment?

,,Have you done this before Tom? Because I have not'' you said, your voice faded a bit away- you were unsure whether to feel pride or guilt.

,,Does this matter? It's what people do when they want I each other. And I only want you if this is what you want to know'' Tom said his last words with a secure smile, his hands brought you to his mouth before he gave them a kiss.

You were back at the same position where you just had started to fall for him again. But now something has changed. Something told you that he was meant to be yours and you were meant to understand him, to love him- because he had allowed you to do so. And Tom belonged to those people that rarely allowed such things- so this means he loved you truthfully, right?

,,We have seen each other’s true self now and we seemed to enjoy it'', said Tom now silently hoping to at least earn a nod from you. ,,Don't back away Y/N. Give it at least a try''. His hand that had held yours on the entire way back wouldn’t let go of you. Carefully he kept his grip around it.

So you nodded. Later Tom brought you to your common room offering you an invitation to a dorm party to give him and his friends a chance to show you, that you and your feelings would be safe with him.

[akechis-special-case]

Our Shared Mundane Life

Words: 770

“You have been reading this book all afternoon. Don’t you think it’s time for a break?”

I hear Goro mention it all of a sudden. My gaze shifts, lifting itself up from the text only to look up at him instead. He is seated on the couch while I’m spread out, resting my head on his lap as if it is a pillow. I see his messily put together ponytail while wearing a pair of glasses (I’m not sure if it’s cosmetic or if he actually needs glasses. I should ask him about it sometime). His attire is messily put together too, just a shirt and short pants to boot. Then again, no one is seeing him besides me so it’s not that big of a deal. Still, ironic, especially since he always looks so neatly put together in public, even when having started to distance himself from the media. 

Regardless, I can’t help but chuckle a little at the sight every time. Or it’s just his presence alone which can make me smile ever so lazily. “Speak for yourself, Mister Detective.” I point out teasingly. “Who’s been working all afternoon despite it being a Sunday?”

“I can’t rest on the job and you know it.” He counters, finally eyeing me as he tilts his head down a little. Our gazes meet and I see his expression. He looks a little blank but that may be from exhaustion. “You on the other hand can read a book at any point.”

“Not with a deadline.”

“What? Do you have to return it by tomorrow to the library?”

I flinch and hold the book a little tighter as a result. “W… Well… I…”

He sighs. “You forgot all about it until now?”

“Yes.” No use to lie about it.

“That’s your problem then.” He reminds me snarkily, even having the grin to boot. 

I pout. “H… Hey! I was busy with stuff like writing and… Uh… More writing! And taking multiple art lessons! And art assignments!”

“With Kitagawa I assume?”

“Well, duh!”

“I was just making sure.”

“If you worry about me leaving you, that’s not gonna happen Mister. You’re stuck with me.”

“I wasn’t implying that.” He then lifts a hand on top of my head and ruffles through my open hair. “Not like anyone could handle your stubborn ass.”

“And no one could handle you being a smartass.” I smirk, only to get an even bigger smirk in return. At this point this has become a normalcy between us two. It is all in good fun, we both know, hence why we don’t take it to heart. Our usual banter when it’s just the two of us at home.

It feels different from the weekends before… Weekends I would spend all by myself inside my room. Stuck at my desk, typing on my keyboard away or moving the pencil in an empty notebook. Or sitting on my bed and playing all types of video games. Honestly, it felt hollow and boring. I hadn’t even noticed that until recently, when Goro and I started living together in the same space.

Even if I don’t show it I wonder when looking at him if he felt the same way. I was only once in his old apartment. More room than one but a space only occupied by him and no one else. A little vacant looking too. No company at all. I can’t look into his head but if I had to guess—

“Is it already that late?” I suddenly hear him speak up, lifting his hand off my head and eyeing the screen again, then letting out a groan. “I didn’t take a shower yet. And it’s almost dinner time too.”

Hearing that I lift myself up, shoving the book aside. And I follow it up with: “Oh, here’s an idea! I’ll heat up some food while you take a bath!”

“And let you burn down another microwave? Not a chance.”

“Oh c’mon, I can heat up some food.”

“Not risking it.”

“Ok fine. I’ll prepare the bath and you pick out what to heat up for dinner after. Deal?”

He pokes my forehead lightly, playfully, teasingly. “Don’t you have a book to finish?”

“I can continue in a moment! Now go grab your stuff while I take care of the bath!”

“Alright, since you insist.”

I always thought that mundane was boring, a domestic lifestyle being insufferable. After all, it’s always the same routine. But with Goro? Honestly, I think I'm starting to love a mundane life.

I cannot imagine spending my days with anyone but him at this point.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖

:)

(almost) 258 for 📖 (x2 for the other ask)

---

Buck doesn’t really know what to do. He doesn’t know how to be. This isn’t… This isn��t his strong suit. 

It might have been. He almost got there. With Abby. When her mother died, Buck had been all in. He tried to comfort her. Was there for whatever she needed, twenty-four seven. Helped with the funeral. All of it. But he supposes, now, that it wasn’t enough. 

He’s never known how to be enough. 

“Uh,” Buck mumbles now, watching Eddie. Who he doesn’t owe anything. Who isn’t expecting him to be anything at all. “Let me know if there’s any extra support I can offer to Chris, okay?”

Eddie nods. “Thanks, man.”

And that’s it.

He doesn’t see a lot more of Eddie Diaz that year. 

2020

ix.

“Okay, you ready for the study questions?” Buck asks. 

“Yes!” Chris replies confidently. 

“The Statue of Liberty was a gift to the United States from which country?” 

“France!” Chris answers. 

“Nice,” Buck praises.  “Independence Day commemorates what event?” 

“The Declaration of Independence,” Chris says. “Duh.” 

Buck smirks. “Correct. In what year did the Civil War begin?”

“Uh… 1860?”

“Not quite,” Buck says. “Close though.”

“1861!”

“Did you actually know that or was it the next easiest guess?” Buck asks skeptically.

“Well, was it right?” Chris asks cheekily. 

“It was…”

“So I knew,” Chris says. 

Buck chuckles. “You’re trouble. But, trouble that’s ready for his American history quiz.”

“Yes!” Chris cheers. “Thank you, Buck.”

“Anytime, kiddo.”

Chris is still coming to the library several times a week. Buck has gotten pretty familiar with his classes and homework. He helps Chris more than any other kid. Not because Chris necessarily needs more help or isn’t getting it elsewhere. That’s not it. Just… They kind of have a good thing going. Buck understands how Chris learns best, and he has fun helping him research. From the fourth grade equivalent of a book report, to a science project on bugs, and now, for basic American history. 

Today, they’ve got extra time. It’s over half an hour after Eddie or Carla - or occasionally Christopher’s aunt, Pepa - comes to pick him up. Most of the other kids have gone home. No one has come for Christopher.

“Hey, Chris, who is coming to get you tonight?” Buck asks as Chris cleans up his history workbook. 

“My dad,” Chris says. “After work.”

Ah, okay. Firefighter shifts can be unpredictable, Buck has learned. You don’t just clock out in the middle of an emergency because your shift is over. You wait it out. Unlike the library. Which is closing soon. 

“He’s probably just stuck at a fire, huh?” Buck asks.

“Or a car accident or medical emergency,” Chris recites dutifully. 

“Alright, well we can be patient,” Buck says. 

“Yeah,” Chris says. “Can I read some comic books instead of homework?”

“Of course you can!” Buck says. “Homework help hour is over.”

Another half hour passes, and it’s time for Buck to close up the library. Chris is the only visitor left in the building besides Jackie. Jackie is an older lady who does puzzle books on the couch of the front foyer several hours a day without fail. She comes to a lot of the library’s special programming too. The kind that isn’t for families and kids, like author talks and craft nights. She’s pretty sweet, and always heads out as soon as Buck starts closing shop. Buck gives her a little wave, and she tells him to have a good night.

“See you tomorrow, Jackie!” He calls as she leaves. 

Buck gives it ten more minutes. Watches Chris reading comics in the kids’ section. Eddie still doesn’t show up. It’s dark outside. Rainy. Buck has heard thunder at least twice. He starts to get worried. 

He logs back onto the library admin computer and looks up Eddie’s number. He calls from his personal cell. It goes to voicemail. 

“Hey, Eddie. This is Buck. Uh, the librarian. You know who I am. Anyway, the library is closing and I’ve got Chris here with me. Just hoping to get an update on your ETA. Thanks.”

A few minutes pass. Eddie doesn’t return his call. He tries Carla. She doesn’t answer either. Buck doesn’t have Pepa’s number. This isn’t good. 

“Buck,” Christopher approaches the desk quietly. “Is my dad going to be here soon? I’m hungry.”

Yeah, so is Buck. It’s definitely past dinnertime. 

“I, uh… I haven’t heard from him.” Buck admits. “But let me make one more call and see what I can do, okay? Maybe I can order us some takeout.”

“Okay,” Chris mumbles. His voice is missing its usual spark of joy. He’s scared. Buck understands why.

But Buck has one more option. He doesn’t have Chimney’s phone number, so he steps away from Christopher for privacy, and calls his sister. 

“Evan?” Maddie picks up after two rings. “I’m on break. What’s up?”

“Hey, can you send me Chimney’s number? Or, like, call him for me?”

“Sure, but he’s working. He won’t pick up for a while. Why?” 

“Well, I’m here with Eddie’s son,” Buck explains. “The library is closing and no one has come to pick him up.”

“Oh, shoot. No one came? I guess that means you haven’t heard.” 

Buck’s stomach drops. “Heard what?”

“The call Chim and Eddie’s firehouse is at… It went kind of bad… It’s on the news.”

“H-how bad?” Buck asks.

“Well…” Maddie sounds nervous. “I don’t know for sure what’s going on. But I think…” 

“What, Maddie?” Buck presses.

“One of them, not Chimney, is trapped underground. I saw Chim being extracted on the news, rescuing a kid. There was a mudslide… It could be Eddie.” 

“Oh, fuck,” Buck says. Library language be damned. 

“Yeah…”  Maddie sighs. 

“Okay, listen…” Buck groans. “I can’t get in touch with any of Christopher’s approved pickup people. There are procedures for this, and I don’t like them. So… I’m going to break the rules.”

“What do you mean?” Maddie asks.

“I’m going to take Chris to grab dinner, and then I’ll drive him to the firehouse. Can you tell Chimney to tell Eddie? And update me if anything else happens?”

“Are you going to get in trouble?” Maddie asks.

“Only if Eddie files a complaint.”

📖

“So something is wrong with my dad,” Chris says, over a McDonald’s dinner. Buck could have probably done better than this; but he had no time to prepare and it’s not like anyone has ever taught him to cook. 

“Why do you say that?” Buck asks. 

“Because if he was just running late, he would have called you,” Chris explains.

Buck takes a sip of his Coke. He doesn’t know how to handle this. This kid lost his mother not even a full year ago. He’s probably terrified of losing his dad, too. 

“Well, okay, Chris… Something is going on.”

Chris pauses, midway through reaching for a chicken nugget. 

“What is it?” Chris asks. 

“Well, you know how my sister works for 9-1-1?” Buck asks.

Chris nods. 

“She says that your dad’s firehouse responded to a pretty scary call,” Buck explains. “So he’s out there being a brave hero right now. And that might take a while.”

Chris sighs. “Okay.”

“Are you still okay to hang out with me until we hear from him?” Buck asks.

Chris nods. “Yeah. Thank you for the Happy Meal.”

“Anytime, kiddo,” Buck says. 

📖

He gets the call from Chimney an hour later. They’re in the car, driving to the fire station. 

“Hey, man. Maddie says you have Christopher?” Chimney says when Buck answers the phone.

“Yeah, I do. Uh, you’re on speaker. I’m driving to you. Chris is in the backseat. He can hear you, okay?”

“Uh, okay. Hey, Chris. How’s it going, buddy?” 

“It’s good. Buck bought me chicken nuggets,” Chris says.

“Oh, that’s great, kid,” Chim replies.

“Uh, so, h-how is Eddie?” Buck interjects.

Chim takes a moment to reply. 

“Well, listen. He’s okay. But it was a hard call. And Eddie… Your dad, Chris, he was… He was underground for longer than we would have liked. He had some trouble getting out. So he’s pretty cold and a little banged up. But he’s gonna be just fine.”

Buck feels a wave of relief.

“That’s great, Chim,” he exhales. “Thanks, man. We’re on our way. We cool to stop by the firehouse?”

“Yeah. We’re on our way back, too. I think Eddie would really like to see Chris.” 

“I want to see my dad!” Chris exclaims. 

“We’ll be there soon,” Buck promises.

[televinita]

To make up for my terrible Monday, I had an AMAZING Friday, which I randomly had free of work and so I went to TOWN, going to bed early enough that I was naturally awake by 8:30 and ready to leave before 11 (even dawdling and having a nice breakfast), plotting an efficient garage sale route of six stops with an estimated ~45 minutes of driving (roughly in a circle, even, so it was only 10 mins to home after that), and then having such an absolute blast stopping at every additional sale AND Little Free Library I passed along the way that I was out for five hours.

Even with a 25-minute diversion to a dollar store, because I hadn't originally expected to be out for more than 2-3 hours max and so hadn't brought anything to drink and was FEELING the humid, 90-degree weather by mid-afternoon (even though for most of the day, there was enough breeze that, driving in air conditioning, it didn't honestly feel too awful!)...I managed to fit in every stop I'd planned, getting to my last one at 4:15, because they were the only ones open 'til 5 instead of 4. Perfectly timed!!

Got back, had a nice cool shower that felt AMAZING, then did the dishes, and am now preheating the oven (yes despite the heat :P) for a Hawaiian pizza + Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire** viewing night w/ husband and it's gonna be great!

(**have I ever seen a ghostbusters movie in my life, including the one to which this I think this is a sequel? Nope! But all I need ever is a good cast and a rating below R, and I like this cast, so I am excited.)

And I got some things, too, but I actually can't remember them all because I just scored left and right and it's almost pizza time, so I'm gonna do Neopets dailies and then log off. Will round up tomorrow, I guess.

For now, just gonna say: the absolute best part of my day was petting a black and tan longhaired mini Dachshund, who was so petite and trim I think even our cat is bigger than her, and we do not have a large cat.

She was wearing a snazzy pink harness, which sadly blocked some of her fur, but she was still SO very sweet, climbing up on my leg while I was crouched to look at a box of books, accepting head pats, and then turning around to flop into a classic Dog Lean pose, resting her tiny weight against me to accept further petting.

Long-haired dachshunds: officially added to the short list of Small Dog breeds I'd be cool with owning.

[nevilleismybaby]

Good Guess

Gregory Goyle x reader

(It’s based off of when Ron and Harry used the poly juice potion in their second year but I guess it could take place in any year really.)

You had just left the great hall after dinner and made your way to the library. It probably wasn’t the best time, but you needed a few books for an assignment. After finding the books you made your way to the Slytherin common room.

As you were walking there you found Percy Weasley with your friends, Draco and Crabbe. And Goyle, with glasses? You made your way up to them and greeted everyone. Once you got to Goyle, you wrapped your arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. You noticed that he tensed a bit instead of hugging you back.

“Are you okay Goyle?” You asked him.

He nodded his head yes.

“Okay… then why do you have glasses?”

“Um… for reading,” he answered.

“Reading?”

Goyle never told you he owned a pair of glasses, and when you were talking to him earlier that day he told you reading was probably the worst thing on the planet . You were just about to question him again when Draco beat you to it.

“Reading? I didn’t know you could read,” he said.

“Draco.” You hissed at him.

“What?”

Before saying anything you looked at Goyle again and he didn’t seem himself. You thought maybe you were just imagining it and you needed sleep.

“Never mind, I’m going to bed. See you all tomorrow.” And you left.

The next morning, you got up, got dressed, and made your way to the Great Hall for breakfast. You spotted Goyle and tried to go talk to him but you were stopped by two of your friends, Ron and Harry.

“Hey Y/n!” They said.

“Oh hey guys!” You greeted back.

“Um, we have a question for you,” Harry said.

“Okay, what is it?”

“Do you, by any chance, have a boyfriend or someone you fancy?” Ron asked.

“Why do you ask?”

“We just want to know.” Said Harry.

“Okay then, I do have a boyfriend.” You told them.

“Well, who is it?”

You thought for a moment before answering.

“Guess.” You said.

“What!?” They said in unison.

“Guess.”

“Um,” they thought for a few seconds. “ Is it that Goyle kid? One of Draco’s goons?” Ron said.

“He is not a goon! And anyways, out of all the people who go to this school you chose Goyle?”

“Um, yeah. We just guessed.” Said Harry.

“ Well then, that was very good guess. I’ll see you guys later!” You said walking away and making your way to the Slytherin table.

“Hey everyone!” You said arriving to the table, getting a few hi’s back. You sat next to Goyle and wrapped your arms around his waist giving him a hug. And he hugged you back with a smile.

“Hello love.” He whispered in your ear.

“Hi,” you said with a smile. “What happened last night? You were a little tense, and you had glasses. Where did those come from?”

“What do you mean? I didn’t see you last night.”

“You didn’t?”

“No?”

“One moment.”

You stood up from your spot and sped walked to the Gryffindor table.

“Harry-“

A/n: Hi, this is my second story. I’ve had this idea for a while and wanted to write a story about it. It could have been better and I probably have to back to fix spelling and grammar mistakes, but I hope you like it and have a great day!

[justjessame]

Silence: Chapter 21

Slow and steady - two words that perfectly summed up Daryl Dixon and our situation. Calling it a relationship seemed a touch presumptuous since we weren’t exactly loading on the physical demonstrations like I had with, feeling the babies perform gymnastics inside of me at the very thought of the man who helped create them didn’t actually give me my normal twist of nausea for which I was grateful.

“You look deep in thought,” Max’s voice drew me from where my mind was drifting while my hand idly soothed the tiny terrors housed within me. Smiling at the woman who was becoming a friend in spite of her role in Pam’s administration, her own smile didn’t seem to reach her eyes. Damn it.

“And you look like you’re here to tell me something to draw me away from my pleasant daydreaming,” there was no heat in my voice, not when I’d come to realize that living under the rule of my aunt meant that this was my new normal.

She told me, once she shut the door behind her and had taken a seat in one of the chairs in front of my desk, and I listened with growing dread. Not only had she tested Pam’s generosity and found it lacking - something I think I could have warned her about had she simply asked - but she snooped and might have been caught by my less than moral cousin. Great. But then she ended her tale by asking me to come to a clandestine meeting with her and some like minded others, all with the purpose of learning precisely what she’d managed to dig up about the family my parents had felt strongly against giving me the name of - Awesome.

I agreed, but the agreement didn’t bring me serenity. Instead I felt the dread creeping in, grabbing hold, and hanging tight.

Daryl, Judith, and RJ join me for dinner - a rarity, since usually he comes later, when Carol keeps an eye on them while they’re down for the night. He helps me in the kitchen while they explore my house, playing hide and seek and enjoying the novelty of a new place. I’d grabbed books and some games that I had on hand at the library, just in case they needed more diversion.

“I have to go on an assignment tomorrow,” we’re side by side, working on chopping and cleaning vegetables and ingredients for dinner as he tells me that I won’t see him on duty. Before I can ask him who set the new schedule, he offers the name and a chill creeps up my spine. “Hornsby thinks we should scout some houses,” I know he’s noticed how still I’ve gone because his hand touches mine and my hand turns, our palms meeting and fingers linking. “I’ll be fine.”

Dinner goes smoothly after he calms my fears, fears that I know he has a twinge of as well. It seems too pat, that he’s being tasked with this new duty and he’s partnered with Aaron, Gabriel, and a third unknown guard. Two people who are - in the Commonwealth status chain - civilians and one who is barely out of training. Before he takes the kids home, and spends the night with them, he hugs me to him - breathing in the scent of my hair and kissing my head.

“If something goes wrong,” he murmurs and the fear shivers through me again. “Listen, Elara,” and I am, with every fiber of my being. “If something goes wrong, keep an eye on them -” and I know, without a shadow of a doubt he doesn’t just mean the kids. He means his whole family - every member who came to the Commonwealth who he feels attached to and I agree, because while Daryl is one of the strongest people I’ve ever met, I know from my own past that the strongest people are the ones with the deepest reserves for pain and suffering - and I’ll do what I can to keep that from him.

“Kiss her goodnight,” I’d forgotten we had a small audience and had to chuckle at Judith’s none to subtle hint that he wasn’t giving me a proper good-bye.

Pulling back, he shot her a look and I knew that she had not a hint of shame rise up from it, “I think you were given a bit of an order,” his gaze landed back on me and I felt a new type of shiver and it wasn’t tinged with any darkness.

“Guess so,” and then his lips met mine and I was surprised by how soft they were - seeing one another and not being physical made sense given my current predicament - and then I stopped thinking and just let myself enjoy the feeling. It wasn’t a long lingering kiss, after all we had impressionable little eyes locked on the scene we were the main players in, but I felt a shift when we parted.

Soft goodnights, and then the three of them left and my smile couldn’t seem to leave my face.

Since I’d had help cleaning up after dinner, I took my time getting ready for bed. A long shower, since bathing without help in and out of the bathtub was something of a battle, and then I made sure to braid my hair before sliding into my bed.

I wasn’t terribly tired, which gave my mind time to wander - and it chose to compare the two men who I’d had the pleasure of getting to know since our world went to shit and back again.

Negan was a hurricane - loud, insistent, and left a wake of wreckage in his path - not necessarily all bad wreckage, I thought as my hand smoothed down the curve that was ever growing proof of how not bad he could be.

Daryl was quiet and watchful. He crept up on you while taking in every single detail he could. While I’d seen him face off against Negan and others, even then he wasn’t a raging storm, but rather a calm sort of strength.

Both men were definitely strong and powerful. Both had the ability to show their power and strength in decisive ways - I’d seen Negan part Alpha from her head without a flinch and I’d watched Daryl take down enemies as swift as one of his arrows could be notched.

How strange that I couldn’t seem to find a single man in the time before everything turned upside down, but now that it had - I’d found two. Even if I’d lost one, or left one, depending on how I looked at it. It was so odd, but then again, I never claimed to be normal.

[ochakourarakah]

araw-araw

chapter two: stay. 

masterlist.

As soon as you turn in your last test paper for the school year -for your entire high school life, now that you thought about it - you actually stand up to stretch. 

The weight of academics had trickled off your back at a steady pace throughout your years at Shiratorizawa, but now it was as if an entire world was plucked off your shoulders in one fell swoop. 

With the weight now gone, you immediately felt lighter. Taller, even. 

You turn to Semi to find him stretching as well as the bell rang. 

Your last exam had been chemistry and you were pleased to see him satisfied with what he turned in.

As soon as your teacher walked out with test papers in hand, Semi dashed over to you. 

“Doc, did I ever tell you you’re a lifesaver?” 

“Plenty of times already,” you laugh, fixing your things back into your bag.

“Well get ready to hear it over and over again for the next few days.'' He sits on the narrow end of your desk. “I’m definitely treating you as thanks. Wanna get some crepes later with Tsumi and Fumi?” 

“Not later. Toshi and I have a date,” The statement is punctuated by you zipping your bag closed. 

His brows shoot up. “So you’re taking our advice? You’re gonna talk to him?” 

You shake your head. “He was the one who wanted to have a date. I wouldn’t want to ruin the mood by dropping something like that,” 

And especially not the night before the interview that could define his entire career after graduating. 

If Semi was disappointed with the revelation, he didn’t show it. Instead he hums. “How about tomorrow, then?” 

“I’m going to-”

“The library,” he says in unison with you, making you scowl. 

Semi only grins as you roll your eyes.  

“But I’ll be there early and I’m not gonna stay for too long.” All you had to do was return some of the reference books you borrowed for now. Getting ahead on the course syllabi you managed to get a copy of could wait some other time. 

“I’ll meet you there then we could head off to lunch then?” Semi offers. “Maybe some guys from the volleyball club might come along, too?” 

You cock your head to the side. “But Toshi would still be in Tokyo by then.” 

“Yeah, we know.” Semi says, getting off your desk. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t hang out with you. You’re our friend, too, you know.” 

The sentiment makes you smile in spite of yourself. “Okay,” 

A familiar bass voice calls your name, making you turn to one of the doors of your classroom where Ushijima stood. 

“Well that’s my cue,” Semi says, heading back to his desk and slinging on his backpack. He approaches his captain with an easy manner. “You have a safe trip later, Wakatoshi,” Then he turns back to you, “You two have fun, yeah?” 

You nod back before waving him goodbye. 

“Do you need to stop by your dorm first?” Toshi asks, taking your bag from your hands. 

“Just to drop off my books,” 

He hums. “Would it be alright for me to drop you off at your dorm so you can get dressed and I can get my things?” 

“Sure,” And as you fall into step beside him you give him a little nudge. “How did you do, by the way?��� 

He furrowed his brows. “We won't get results until next week.” 

A chuckle escapes your lips. “No, I mean, how were you as you took the exams? Are you confident in your answers?” 

“Ah,” he nods. “I believe I did alright. Calculus was difficult as usual but I think I’ll be alright. And English was easier than expected thanks to your help.” He turns to you with a smile. “How about you?” 

“Calc definitely was a nightmare,” The still-fresh memory of the last problem on the paper had already seared itself into the back of your mind. You make a mental note to look it over later in your free time. 

“Though I’m more worried about how I did in Biology and Chemistry.” You admit sheepishly. 

“But those are your best subjects.” 

“Well, I guess, but those are the subjects that get looked over when applying for pre-med.” 

“I don’t think you have to worry,” 

“Hm?” 

“You’re brilliant. If anyone can gain top marks in those subjects, it's you.” 

The compliment, in all the nonchalance of Toshi’s delivery, makes you blush all the way down to your toes. 

When you approach your dorm building, you peck Toshi on the cheek before yanking your bag from his grasp and rushing up to your room. 

Being Friday night, school protocols were more lax, extending curfew for students who opt to stay in the dorms over the weekend,

This gave you plenty of time to catch up with Natsumi before she left for home and for you to get ready for your date. 

Though nothing could quite prepare you for what awaited you outside. 

Seeing Toshi in anything that wasn’t his school uniform or athletic wear was an unusual sight to you but you welcome it all the same as you approach him in front of your building. 

Crisp, dark denim jeans fit smartly over strong and lean legs and were paired with a dark gray shirt and a light jacket.

“You look nice,” Toshi says as soon as you’re in front of him.

And despite the cool air of early spring, heat still flushes your cheeks as you mumble your thanks. “Let’s go?” 

He nods and leads the way. 

.

.

.

At least, for all of two minutes. 

You could’ve sworn the outfit you picked out for the day was appropriate for the late afternoon weather, but you barely make it ten paces outside of Shiratorizawa’s gate before you start to shiver at a strong gust of wind. 

Ushijima stops in his tracks. 

“Toshi?” you ask, following suit. 

He says nothing as sets his duffel bag to the ground and takes off his jacket. “Here,” he says, draping it over your shoulders. 

All the protests you were about to voice die in your throat at the worried look on his face. 

So you push your arms through the sleeves and fix the collar around your neck. It was definitely too big on you but it blocked out the chill just the same. 

“Thank you, Toshi,” 

“Anytime,” He says, taking your hand. “Let’s go or we’ll be late,” 

And you squeeze your fingers around his as you follow his lead. 

Your research told you that the restaurant was a small family-run joint that served mostly Japanese food. 

A kindly middle-aged man greeted the pair of you as you entered and made your way to one of the smaller tables further in.

On your way, you pass by a table of girls from another school who shamelessly ogled your companion. 

Once settled, Toshi leans in. “I need to use the restroom.” He whispered. 

You nod and watch as he doubles back to ask the man at the counter for directions to the bathroom, rolling your eyes at the girls whose eyes remained glued to your boyfriend, before  he disappeared into the restroom. 

Then you smile in spite of yourself, knowing you couldn’t quite blame those girls even if you tried. 

Sometimes Toshi’s presence alone was enough to draw attention even when he wasn’t on the court. 

(The court was where he belonged and you both know it.) 

Whichever the case, you make quick work of ordering both of your favorites and request for the beverages to be served first. 

A minute passes before you catch Toshi emerging from the restrooms, which was cue for the table of girls to stare and whisper amongst themselves again.

He meets your eyes as he heads to your table. “Green tea?” he asks as he sits down. 

“Yeah, I thought you might want some?” 

He smiles. “I do. Have you ordered?” 

“For the both of us, if that’s okay.” 

“Hm?” 

“Hayashi rice for you and some udon for me.” 

“My favorite.” 

You smile. “Of course.”

And the smile he gives you in return sends a kind of rush through you so sharp it’s almost disorienting. 

“We can definitely consider this a celebration, then.” 

He could easily mean a celebration for the end of the school year, but it doesn’t get rid of the obvious implication of his recruitment as well. 

Not with the Schweiden Adlers flyer sticking out of the outer pockets of his bag and taunting you from the corner of your eye. 

Not when you were a stone’s throw away from the station and well within range of the various trains and rails passing by with every minute.

You wanted so badly to say that you were proud of him. That you were excited for his upcoming meeting and that you wished him all the best after graduation. That he had your unwavering support in everything he’s spent his whole life training for.  

But the words couldn’t come out of your mouth without a horrible aftertaste, which just made you feel worse. 

You knew for damn sure that Toshi deserved every opportunity that came his way and he had worked too damn hard for too damn long to even let one chance slip past. 

(Especially not from the strongest Division 1 V-League team.) 

So who the hell were you to ask him to stay in Miyagi? 

(A wide-eyed admirer of his who just happened to catch his eye in return. Nothing more and nothing less.) 

So you manage to keep your smile and nod in agreement before making conversation about anything and everything that wasn’t his immediate recruitment. 

And for a while, it worked. 

He told you about the Volleyball intensive training camp that was held at your school. 

(“So someone just snuck in?” 

“Yes. It was Shouyo Hinata from Karasuno.”

“The one with the freakishly high jumps?” 

“That would be him.”)

And you recount to him Semi and Natsumi’s band’s latest gig and even show him the video you took. 

(“I didn’t know Sato-san could sing so powerfully.” 

“Neither did I! Apparently this was the first time she actually sang lyrics to their original song.” ) 

And in between bites of your meal you laughed at old jokes and smiled as you spoke about your mutual friends. 

(“So Tendou’s really going for culinary school, huh?” 

“Yes, he wants to become a chocolatier.” 

“Are there any schools like that in Japan?” 

“He said there are few, but he aims to study and work in Paris.” 

“That’s amazing. I’ve always wanted to go to Paris as a child.”

“Paris is very popular for tourists. Especially couples.” ) 

But of course it could only work for so long; the late afternoon bled into evening too fast and the food was consumed far too quickly and before you know it. Toshi glanced at his watch with a small frown. “I should be heading to the station now.” 

You nod. “Right.”

And when he gets up to pay the bill himself, you find you don’t even have the energy to protest. 

It takes a better part of your resolve, but you will yourself to see Toshi off at the station. 

If you can’t voice your support as well as you should, you might as well show it. 

What you found strange, though, was that it was your boyfriend who was more hesitant.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you back to the bus stop?” he asks. 

You shake your head. “You might miss your train,” 

“There will be other trains.” 

“Well, yes, but you shouldn’t have your uncle wait too long.”

He frowns at this but you wave him off. “It’s alright!” 

(It’s wasn’t.)

“Alright,” He finally concedes. 

And before you can bid him goodbye, he drops his bag to the ground, steps forward, and takes you into his arms. 

You stiffen for a moment before wrapping your own arms around his middle and squeeze. 

(You want to squeeze him tighter to keep him here. To make him stay.)

You feel the press of his lips at the top of your head and the rumble of his voice in his chest as he murmurs into your hair, “I’ll be back soon.” 

You’re in a daze when he pulls away and you stay that way as he heads into the gate, watching his figure retreat deeper and deeper inside until you lose track of him altogether. 

Sure that you’re out of each other’s sight, you turn for the exit. 

And the trip home, even with Toshi's jacket around your shoulders, leaves a chill under your skin.

It’s when you’ve arrived at Shiratorizawa’s gate that your phone vibrates. 

Toshi: I’m about to board the Shinkansen.

You: good to know you made it there safely.

You: the ride to Tokyo is about 2 hours right? 

Toshi: Yes. I’ll just sleep until then.

You: don’t forget to set an alarm, okay? 

You:  the last thing we want is for you to wake up in Kyoto.

Toshi: Thank you for reminding me.

Toshi: Also, the Schweiden Adlers’ headquarters is half an hour from Shinjuku

Toshi: There would be a lot of shops by Shinjuku Station. 

Toshi: Would you like me to bring you back something while I'm here? 

You: ah there’s no need for that! it’s alright!

Toshi: Are you sure?

You hesitate before typing. 

You: Yep! 

You: Just stay safe, ok? 

The dorms were near empty when you got to your building. 

It made sense, considering the final exams had just finished and everyone would be anxious to get the hell out of dodge. 

You frown, regretting that you scheduled your trip home for next week despite reasoning (mostly to yourself than to your family at home) that you’d rather leave with everything packed up for Moving Day than go back and forth weeks before graduation. 

(It was too quiet and you hated it.) 

Nonetheless, you let the autopilot of routine takeover for the rest of the night. 

Bath. Pajamas. Brush teeth. Call home. 

The conversation was easy enough to hold up until your mother asks, “How is Wakatoshi-kun, by the way? ”

And autopilot turned off as you winced at the question. “He’s headed to Tokyo now.” You manage to say. 

“Oh! He got recruited? ” 

“Yeah, in a Division One team no less. He’s there for negotiations.” 

“That’s wonderful news.” 

“It is,”

“Are you alright, dear?”  

(No.)

You nod as if your mother could see you. “Yeah. Just tired from the exams.” 

Not a complete lie, but you’re relieved she bought it regardless. “Alright I won’t keep you any longer. I’ll call again tomorrow.” 

“Sorry for worrying you.” 

“Take care of yourself, dear. ” 

“Alright. Bye.”

You wait for your mother to hang up before letting out a heavy sigh.

Now you were all alone. 

(That’s how it was going to be, right? You might as well get used to it.) 

So you do what you did best.

You hit the books, that’s what. 

And the first on your hitlist was that blasted final calculus problem.

Toshi: I’ve arrived in Tokyo. I’m now in my uncle’s car. 

Toshi: I’ve arrived at my Uncle’s house. 

Toshi: Sleep well. 

author’s notes: 

♡ my favorite things to write are relationship dynamics, and i absolutely love it when you're integrated into the world you read/write about

♡ plus points to anyone who can figure out the inspo behind natsumi and fumiko's story

♡ PM me to be added to the taglist! (tho you can also totally just chat with me there, i swear i don't bite!)

© ochakourarakah 2023.

[fredshufflepuff]

hiii can i request fred enemies to lovers with short hufflepuff reader where he just tease her endlessly abt her height and usually the reader ignores it but overtime it just becomes one of her biggest insecurities. other students began to bully the reader for the same reason and she just feel so unfair that they are doing that for something she cannot control. she became extremely quiet and avoid large crowd overall and fred noticed that. he saw what the other students are doing and saying abt the reader and got angry at them. he confronts reader and apologizes for everything he had done and tells her that she was perfect in her own way. sorry if it’s so long and detailed or confusing 😅 thank uuu i love your blog smmm

out of my control || f.w ✧˖*°࿐

summary: fred makes fun of your height relentlessly but doesn’t realize how it’s slowly breaking you.

a/n: did i not know how to head it? yes. are you going to bully me for it? NO >:(

warnings: enemies to lovers, fem!reader, language, teasing, draco being a bully >:/, asshole fred

word count: 1,982

“hey shortstack” a familiar voice taunted, the feeling of a sudden presence forming behind you.

you were on your tip toes trying to grab a potions book for your upcoming exam, obviously failing since it was placed on the second highest shelf.

you could’ve used your wand to wisk it down, but last time you did that you almost made the entire bookshelf come down.

which only peeved off madam pince into threatening you with a weeks worth of detention.

“what do you want, fred?” you asked, turning around and facing the dick who never seems to leave you alone.

“nothing much” he shrugged, reaching over you and grabbing the book you had been trying to get, “just wanted to see you.”

“see me?” your eyebrows raised in confusion as your head titled to the side, your fingers coming up to grab the book but fred pulled away.

“wow, short and gullible?” he laughed, tossing the book to the top of the shelf before walking off, your face heating up as you scoffed at his comment.

“bastard...”

a week went by of freds teasing only increasing, the boy commenting on your height and how small you were whenever he could, which, was a lot.

you didn’t know why he picked on you so much. you never crossed him in any way—that you knew of.

but you also didn’t want to come off as sensitive.

fred didn’t necessarily bully you per say, but his jabs and comments about how you looked—especially on things you couldn’t control, really stung.

you were currently paired with fred for a potions assignment, snape choosing the partners before telling everyone to get started.

“get the cauldron” the boy said, waving his hand at you before plopping himself down in the chair, your eyes narrowing at him in annoyance.

“you know i can’t fucking reach the cauldrons” you snapped, going to sit but fred pulled your chair away.

“that’s why i told you to go get it, it’ll be funny seeing you make a fool of yourself” he snapped, turning away from you with your chair so you couldn’t sit.

“go fuck yourself” you mumbled, storming towards the shelves of cauldrons as students started to make their way back.

you stood in front of the intimidating shelf with a heart clenching feeling in your chest. fred was right, you were destined to embarrass yourself—and no way in hell would snape let you levitate one down.

you looked around the room for a stool you could use, a frown on your face when you didn’t see one.

your hands reached up as you raised to your toes, squinting your eyes and turning your head to the side as you tried to grab the cauldron.

your fingers gripped the cool material of the pot before slowly sliding it towards you, not knowing how close it was to the edge until it dropped.

dropped on you.

it fell heavy on your foot as you yelped loudly in pain, falling to the ground as your hands tried desperately to catch yourself.

“ms.y/l/n! detention for two weeks, are you out of your mind?!” snape barked, everyone’s eyes on yours including freds.

“i-i didn’t do it on purpos—”

“zip it! longbottom-” snape snapped, the boy jumping nervously as he stuttered out a small ‘yes sir?’

“-bring her to madam pomfrey, come straight back when you’re done.”

you spent only an hour in the infirmary, pomfrey claiming you had sprained your foot, but broke your big toe in the process.

pomfrey wanted to keep you overnight, but you insisted on finishing your classes—or at least going back to rest in your dorm.

she gave you crutches and sent you on your way, reminding you that you were welcomed back to the infirmary if you changed your mind.

“crutches? really, tiny pants?”

“tiny pants?” you scoffed, adjusting your book bag that was threatening to fall, “really? how creative.”

“y’know, i was going to help you with your bag, but i think i’ll just watch you struggle” he said, making you scoff as you rolled your eyes.

“like i needed your help.”

just as those words left your mouth, your bag dropped to the ground with a thud.

you groaned mentally to yourself as you stared at the bag, fred laughing his ass off as you tried asking him to pick it up.

you felt stupid asking, but you were tired and your toe was in pain, you just wanted to get to your dorm.

“see you later, short stack.”

you countered up a quick levitation spell, struggling to cast it since you were balancing on one arm, the other leaning on your crutch.

when you finally did grab it, you hobbled your way to the hufflepuff common room while mumbling profanity’s under your breath—mostly cursing out fred for not helping and instead calling you names.

over the next few days your toe fully healed, madam pomfrey giving you a nasty but effective potion to help heal your bone quicker.

“take these three vials after breakfast, lunch, and dinner. start tomorrow morning” pomfrey said, handing you the tiny clear bottles as you nodded in response.

“thank you, i really appreciate it.”

you made your way out of the infirmary and back to your dorm, slipping past the students that hurried past you for today’s quidditch game, slytherin vs gryffindor.

“hey, short stack!” a familiar and irritating voice called, your legs moving faster as you sped walk down the corridor.

the footsteps got closer as you soon felt a heavy arm fall onto your shoulder, a small grunt leaving your lips as you shoved the boy away.

“oooh, snappy now are we?”

“fuck off.”

fred only laughed at your words, tossing his clean sweep back and forth as he followed you to the dorms.

“coming to the game?”

“no” you grumbled, praying to merlin the annoying red head would just leave you alone.

“awh what a shame, i was hoping on seeing my favorite cheerleader there,” his words were laced with sarcasm, the boy poking at your face as you shoved him once again.

he wanted a reaction,that’s what fred always wanted.

but you didn’t give him one, instead you went straight to your common room and up to your dorm, fred soon getting bored and heading off to his game.

you didn’t remember much from that night, just falling asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow.

you trudged your way to the main hall with your book bag tossed lazily over your shoulder, today being a free day for students to catch up on missing work and assignments.

you were planning on grabbing something small for breakfast before heading to the library to catch up on some studying.

you were so lost in your thoughts you didn’t notice you had ran straight into another student, your legs stumbling back as they cursed at you.

“watch it, first year!” draco malfoy scolded at you, your eyebrows furrowing together as your mouth fell open.

“i-i’m not a first year, i’m in the same year as you—”

“she’s just short” crabbe snickered, the blonde next to him chuckling as he eyed you up and down—which, made you extremely uncomfortable.

“stay out of my way, or you’ll get trampled” he said, his words sharp as they practically dug into your skin.

trampled? was he being serious?

“better yet, stay out of everyone’s way.”

later that day you stayed locked away in your dorm, deciding to just study there and snack on the treats you bought earlier on in the week.

you thought it was just fred that felt that way towards you, but apparently it wasn’t.

were you really that much of a burden to people?

you stayed locked away in your dorm till almost night fall. your eyes were burning from staring at the same wooden desk and book you had brought with you, along with your stomach rumbling since you hadn’t eaten much that day.

you decided to head back down to the main hall to grab some dinner and then come back up, wanting to make the trip as quick as possible.

but of course, knowing your luck, that didn’t happen.

you were walking down the ‘somewhat’ empty corridor when your eyes landed on fred, the red head smirking as he saw you which only made your stomach churn.

you tried turning around to take another path, but ran face first into someone who had been walking behind you.

“it’s the short hufflepuff again” the voice cackled, shoving you to the ground as your body hit the concrete with a thud, a low groan falling from your lips as your head started to spin.

“i said stay out of my way or you’ll get trampled, and guess what, i was true to my word” malfoy sneered, his friends laughing at his comment as your face reddened with embarrassment.

tears were pricking your eyes and your chest was heaving up and down, you felt so small compared to everyone else, you felt so tiny and defenseless.

“you want to see trampled, malfoy?” a voice boomed from behind you, your head snapping to the side as you watched fred approaching you from behind.

you felt intimidated by him, the way his body loomed over yours made you feel sick, especially with how he’s been treating you.

“ah, weasley! come to see the show?”

“there is no show, unless you prefer your goons here to see you receive a black eye” he said calmly, the blonde narrowing his eyes at the boy before shoving past everyone, crabbe and goyle running after him.

fred turned to see if you were okay, his eyes softening as he watched tears roll down your face.

“are you oka-”

“okay?! am i o-okay?” you asked, picking yourself up and violently rubbing your tears away, “no i’m not fred! malfoy was never the problem, it was always you!”

“but i-”

“you what?!” you spat, “you were just joking?”

“y/n, i never meant to hurt you” he mumbled, his face heating up as guilt formed in his stomach. he’s been a dick to you all this time and has just now realized what his words were really doing.

“then what was your intention?” you asked.

“i-i just” he didn’t know what to say, there was only one thing to say, “i’m sorry.”

“s-sorry?”

“sorry for picking on you every day for something you can’t control, sorry for making you struggle when you clearly needed help” he spewed out, not even stopping to think as the words he’s been meaning to say fell from his mouth, “i think you’re absolutely perfect the way you are, and i realize now how much of a jerk i was—how much i was hurting you.”

“how can you make fun of something i can’t control and then come to me saying i’m perfect the way i am? are you out of your mind?!” you asked, voice holding annoyance but mostly hurt—what was fred trying to get at?

“i just thought- it’s stupid i know but, i just thought teasing you would be easier than admitting my feelings.”

“f-feelings?”

“for you” he says, voice only just above a whisper as he let his words sink into you. he has feelings for you?

“but i understand if you don’t feel the same, i was rotten to you. i wouldn’t even help you pick up your bag when you were in crutches! i was just so blinded by my own stupidity to actually man up and do something-”

you cut fred off by pulling him into a kiss, his rambling coming to a stop as he melted into your touch. you had to stand on your tip toes to reach him, but fred helped by leaning over and cupping your face.

“i think your height is adorable” he mumbled against your lips, a blush taking over your face as you pulled him back into the kiss.

“just shut up and kiss me.”

fred weasley tag list 🏷 @90smalfoy @astoria-malfcy @whipped-for-the-weasley-twins @ang9lic @malfoysbiitch @Harrypotter_Whore @aetheralist @miraclesoflove @amourtentiaa @myloveforluna @bellatrixscurls @an2402lths @marrymetheonott @skaratjung @wh0re4blaise @dreamxnotxfound @fjorelaant @pinkandblueblurbs

[demonsandmischief]

Our Moment Finale

Marvel - A Captain America Fairytale AU

King! Steve Rogers x Female Reader

1.8K Words

Here's Pt 1 and Pt 2

-Part 3-

the conclusion

----

You didn't waste anytime getting home, collapsing onto your bed with a sob that you muffled with your palm. It seemed nothing good could ever truly be yours.

You glanced around the small attic space with blurry tears. The house was supposed to be for you. Your father had left it in your name, yet your step-mother was able to work her way around that.

It was the only reason you stuck around, the only reason you put up with all of it. You were over it.

Peaches was the only thing that you felt a connection to. Your father adored her, and you were honored that you got to bond with her.

You made up your mind. It was time to move on. You dried that last of your tears and began packing a bag. You carefully folded your mother's dress and put it back in the box you got it from. One day when the memories weren't as painful, you would come back for it.

You wished things could be different with your life, but mostly with Steve. You should have known better than to get tied up with the king. It was too good to be true. You felt you had done everything you could to win over his trust, but obviously not enough.

You strapped your bag to your horse. The next town was about a days ride, and you could figure out where to go from there.

---

Steve didn't hesitate to saddle his own horse as quickly as possible. He had to go after you - had to explain. He couldn't lose you. You were the only good thing to ever happen to him.

He stalled in his tracks. Explain what exactly? That his biggest fear was being used and never being loved? He shook his head.

"My king, where are you off to?" a guard asked confused.

"I have to leave."

"But the ball-"

"Tell the court I will explain when I get back."

"Wait, you can't leave without someone going with you."

Steve was already racing down the path, his heart racing along with it.

"There's no time for that," he called. He could take care of himself.

He thought of you as he followed the familiar trail. He thought of the first day you met, and all of the moments thereafter. You always made time for him, always listened to what he had to say. You were attentive and doting.

He had screwed up.

The trail became less familiar. He didn't know where he was going, or how he would find you. He swallowed down the panic. He couldn't lose you. It was a constant circling thought.

Eventually the trail ended and he slowed to a trot. He saw a house up ahead, and a royal carriage in front of it.

He slowed, finding Sam speaking to a guard.

"What are you doing here and how did you get here so fast?" Steve asked.

Sam took his horse's reins. "I know something has been up with you lately, but you can explain later. The lady you talked to at the ball is in the house."

Your step-mother. He had some words for her, but first he needed you.

"Thank you, Sam. I owe you," Steve said, heading for the door.

"Your highness, it's a pleasure to have you in our home-"

"Don't act like I don't know what is going on," he said, cutting her off. "I will deal with you later. Is she here? Where is her room?"

The lady paled even beneath the layers of powder on her cheek.

"S-She's not-" she swallowed at Steve's fierce look, before gathering her wits. "My king, she's not here. She's hardly ever here. I'll show you where she prefers to spend her time."

Steve followed her down a hallway to a door with a winding staircase. She guided him up and into the small room at the top. The ceilings were so low that he had to scrunch his shoulders.

He took in the space, feeling upset at your living conditions.

"Leave me," he demanded, unable to look away from the small bed in the corner, one that contained a single blanket and a pillow, folded neatly on the end.

The step-mother was right. It looked like someone hardly lived here, except there was a freshly cut flower on the windowsill, soaking in the low, dusty light. And the books you had borrowed from his own library sat tucked by the bed. Most importantly, the beautiful dress that he never got to say anything to you about was hanging from the sides of a box under the bed. You must have been in a haste to leave.

He frowned, bending down to pick up a folded piece of paper. Were those the things you did by yourself? What had you gone through?

Steve cursed. He wished he could have started the night over. He wished that he had gone through his original plan instead of being sucked into his own insecurities.

"Where would she have gone?" he asked impatiently to the lady who was lounging on her couch.

"If she isn't in the barn with that horse, I have no clue."

There was no sign of a horse or you. He closed his eyes, feeling the anxiety creeping in and swallowing him whole. It was dark and late, and you were somewhere all alone. It was all his fault.

"She might know someone in the next town over," Sam suggested. "We could head over tomorrow."

"That's a days journey. I'll start the route tonight."

"You're exhausted, Steve," he protested.

"Just in case," his words dropped to a hoarse whisper, his mind plunged into the darkest corners.

Sam nodded. "We will catch up with you tomorrow then. Be safe."

He nodded, already going down the dark path, his heart thudding loud in his ears.

---

You were taking a break and letting Peaches rest. The fire you built was warm and soothing on your stiff limbs. Even after the incident in the woods a while back, it didn't scare you to be out alone. The stars and the moon made it seem as though you could feel your parents, and you enjoyed the sentiment, especially after the day you had.

You rested your head on your hand, your eyes fluttering closed. They were dry and sticky from the tears that had fallen.

You gave a shuddering hiccup, unable to give into the heartbreak anymore. You were cried out. Beyond upset - a numbness covered your whole body like a scab on a wound.

You jolted, hearing steps near you and you staggered quickly to your feet.

"Thank god you're alright," Steve said, rushing towards you. He pulled you tight into his embrace, and it took everything in you not to hug him back.

"What are you doing here, your highness?" you asked confused, trying to pull away. He didn't let go, only eased back so his hand remained on your shoulders.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I believed her over you. I'm sorry that it took me so long to come after you. I'm sorry for everything," he said the words so sincerely that tears filled your eyes for the millionth time tonight. He caressed you cheek, using the pad of his thumb to dry a fallen drop. "And it's just Steve to you."

"But you still did it," you whispered, voice thick with tears. "You don't trust me."

"I do trust you," he said earnestly. "and I care about you. It has been a long time since I shared those emotions with anyone."

"It doesn't matter," you successfully pull away. His hands drop dejectedly to his side. "You're a king, and I'm me. It would have never worked out."

It was quiet a moment. "Why didn't you tell me what you were going through at home?"

You sat down and Steve followed. "I didn't want you to think I was using you. I guess we both have our own insecurities."

He looked into the dimming flames of the fire. "Insecurities or not, I shouldn't have accused. I'm sorry I hurt you."

He waited, but you said nothing. "We're both exhausted and need sleep. Why don't we head back?" He stood, holding out his hand to you.

You shook your head, "I'm not going back."

He paused, fully expecting that response, but it still took him aback. He definitely wasn't going to leave you alone in the middle of nowhere though.

"Okay," he nodded, heading to his horse.

You frowned.

He turned with a blanket, draping it over you, before tending to the fire. Finally, he sat next to you with a sigh. His body was pressed against yours and you couldn't help but sag in relief at the support.

"You can't stay. You have to get back," you protested.

"Shh," he eased, kissing your forehead ever so softly. "Sleep a bit and then we will talk."

---

Gentle light breaking through the trees awoke you from your slumber. You shivered from the damp cold, curling closer to the source of warmth beneath you. Your eyes fluttered and you realized you were practically laying on top of Steve.

You called his name, shaking him gently.

"We fell asleep," you told him with a yawn, falling back onto his chest. It was the best sleep you ever had.

He hummed, wrapping his arm around your waist.

"I'm sorry. You must be freezing," he said coming to, easing the both of you up. Your cheeks heated and you moved to get off of his lap.

He adjusted the blanket so it was pulled tight over your shoulders.

"Come back with me, please," he whispered, turning your chin to look at him. "You can stay with me. I just want to be with you."

"You want me to stay with you?" you asked.

"We could get married in the summer," he grinned, the first genuine smile you had seen in a while.

"Married?" you asked, biting back a smile.

He nodded eagerly. "I'm falling in love with you."

---

Epilogue:

"Come on," Steve encouraged, pulling you eagerly down the hall to your favorite room in the palace.

Things were working out good, really good, between the two of you.

"What are we doing?"

"Close your eyes," he smiled, taking his large warm hands and covering them for you.

He pulled them off with an exaggerated ta-da, revealing a new shelf next to his in the library.

"Now you have your own spot for all of your favorites."

"Thank you," you smiled, leaning up to kiss him. "I love it. I love you."

And they lived happily ever after.

---

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[mystic-sky]

A fan fic of Gojo Satoru inspired by the song Heaven by Julia Michaels 😭 I enjoyed your writings 🥰🥰🥰

The moment you met him was ingrained into your brain, even years after you both parted. It had been raining that day, possibly 7:30pm, and you were held up in a cafe for shelter. You had been dosing off a bit after your classmates left you an hour or so prior. You regretted staying up so late to watch that sit-com the night before. But it was a Friday, and you didn’t have class the next day. The paper was finally finished and you proudly packed your things together. You kept fantasizing about how your efforts during the week were soon to be rewarded by slumber. 

The sound of thunder brought you back to reality within the quiet coffee space. 

“I guess I should sit back down,” you said to yourself. You were standing by the glass doors and ready to leave, bag over your shoulder. You held your book in one arm before fisting the sleeves of your sweater. The one time I forget my umbrella, you thought.

There was something soothing about watching the busy streets of Tokyo while rain hit the window screen. You felt yourself unwinding, relaxing in place. Sometimes your school and work life felt so hectic. It was nice to slow down  from time to time and breathe. 

“Man, you don’t have an umbrella? That sucks.” An incredibly tall, white haired male spoke beside you, snapping you out of your zen moment. 

You turned your head towards him, and he wasn’t even looking at you. He wore a thick black sweatshirt,  black jeans and dark boots. He had thick black shades on, and surely an umbrella in his hands. He had a gorgeous profile, and his jawline was extremely defined. Was he some sort of supermodel, you thought.

“Yeah, I know.” You say, sighing to yourself. You were partially offended, but mostly tired. He was handsome, but you didn’t have time for flirting. You just wanted to go home and run a hot bath. He looked like he was going to break your heart anyways.

“It says the rain is going to stop within the hour on the weather app.” He said, scrolling and tapping away at his phone. “You goin’ to the train station?”

“Oh, yeah.” You say shyly. You nervously tucked some hair behind your ears before looking straight ahead. Why the fuck was this supermodel speaking to you?

Granted, it was hard for you to stop looking at him every so often.

“Like what you see?”

You blinked at him repeatedly, earning a cocky chuckle from him.

“Wanna walk with me?” He asked, peering down at you. You looked at him, pondering if he was seriously trying to hit on you right now. Surely if you had known him, maybe walking to the station with him solely for the use of his umbrella would’ve been fine. You don’t know if it was the sleep deprivation or the fact that he truly did seem a little arrogant that stemmed your next response as you spoke.

“I don’t even know you.” You said bluntly, and you meant it disrespectfully.

“Not yet.” He said slyly. “But I’ve seen you around campus a lot.”

You stood still, pondering again if you had actually seen him before. Wait- wasn’t he in your political science class? You put a finger to your chin before finally igniting the imaginary, anxious little light bulb above your head.

“Professor Edamura’s class right?” You were such a lecture worm in that class, and the professor had yet to start group assignments. You had absolutely no need to befriend anyone  in that class yet. Nonetheless, it was your largest lecture class this semester, and you only met once a week. 

“Bingo.” He grinned.

“There’s like 120 people in that lecture.”

“Yeah. But I think you’re the cutest.” You stared at him, dumbfounded and blush stuck on your cheeks.

“Thank you,” you say, squeezing your arms around your book and pressing it towards your chest. 

“Oh look, the rain is stopping.” He says, leaning forward and intently staring out the window.

“Well, see you Wednesday.” He smiled a cheeky smile.

You felt like a child, blushing foolishly whilst you watched him walk out and down the street. 

You almost wish you hadn’t met him.

Days would go by until you saw him again. He made his appearance on Wednesday, at 2pm in Professor Edamura’s class. He sat beside you, offering you a wink before taking out his own computer beside you and your own. Aside from a greeting, he didn’t say a word until the lecture ended. You really had spoken too soon about not befriending anyone, because you had gotten slurped up into a group project with  4 other people.

“So, Friday night, we could all go to my place.  I don’t live too far from here.” You wanted to meet at the library instead. Why did he want to go to his house? However, it seemed he was a rather popular guy and everyone loved him. You learned his name was Gojo Satoru. And then you lost the vote 4 to 1. 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as the women in your group swooned at him as he talked. This sucks.

All of you created a group chat in which you sparked ideas for the project’s format. You honestly think the other girls in your group were just more excited they had his number. 

Thursday night came, and you were in your robe and face mask when your phone went off. You blinked repeatedly, realizing Satoru had texted you directly and not the group chat.

Heyy

Hey, Is everything okay?

Yeah, I honestly just can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

You stared at the message, absolutely not having time for his shit. You didn’t respond. Rather, you went in your settings and purposely turned on read receipts and went to bed. 

You wished you could’ve left him on read in real life too as you sat on the floor pillow in his living room the next evening. The other three group mates bailed, texting the chat just 20 minutes after you got there.

“Guess it’s just the two of us,” he chuckled. 

“Don’t look so happy about it.” You rolled your eyes. This project was 30 percent of your grade, you wanted to punch someone.

“I can’t help it,” he says, sitting across from you on a different floor pillow. “I won’t lie. I had been thinking of asking you on a date. I didn’t think I’d get so lucky.”

“And did you text the other girls in our group the same thing the night before?” You say, nonchalantly opening your book. You didn’t even look his way.

“No, they’re incredibly annoying.” He sighed genuinely. You finally looked at him. They were pretty annoying. Because of them, you were sitting across from him with nothing separating you but an extremely expensive coffee table. The library would’ve been better.

“You’re pretty cool though. Kind of bummed you didn’t text me back.” 

“Because I know what you’re up to.” You say, scribbling away in your notes.

��And what might that be?” He takes off his shades, putting them on the glass coffee table. You’d never forget the way he stared at you with his mesmerizing blue shells.

“I’m not going to fall in love with you. I don’t have time for that.” You firmly set your pencil down, looking at him. 

“I don’t exactly want you to.” He chuckled. You looked at him before speaking again.

“So what do you want from me?” You say, placing your face in your palm and leaning forward a bit to look at him directly. The intense stare you had was sure to ring out the truth from his lips.

“I said I wanted to take you on a date.” He laughs. “Get to know you a bit, but ultimately take you to bed at the end of the night, if you don’t mind. You can decline, I just wanted to show you a good time.”

He just blatantly asked you to sleep with him. Somehow, you admired that. You hated people that wasted your time. At least this way, you felt like you had some power in the situation. You could decline him or not, and you knew exactly what would become of your situation-ship if you started something.

“Sure,” you say calmly, to his surprise. You shift yourself around the table, right beside his body.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” you took hold of his jaw, delicately planting a kiss. He had no idea you were so confident. He only had a girl initiate the kiss once before. Your lips were incredibly soft and pillowy. He was already hard, wondering just what your sex was like if you kissed him like this. The semester’s stress had gotten to you. You were only hoping he could help you unwind.

You shifted over his body, straddling him against the bottom of the sofa. You’d give him exactly what he wanted.

“You better be good at this, or don’t even bother looking at me after we finish this project.” You break from his lips. 

“Oh princess, I don’t ever disappoint.” He smirked. You were alarmed at his strength when he lifted both your bodies off the ground. He sucked in your lips, kissing you firmly as he brought you to his bedroom. 

That night, he gave you the best sex of your entire life. He wasn’t lying about not disappointing you.

You remember the day you guys finally had to present your project, which didn’t come out too bad. Satoru had seduced the girls who didn’t show up on Friday into doing majority of the work. You remember him telling you that they deserved it after you attempted to nag him for messing with them like that.

“You and me worked hard last Friday night, right princess? So what’s the big deal?” He whispered into your ear while you all gathered in front of the lecture. You presented your part that you did on your own with constant red hues plaguing your face. You wish he waited to say that after the presentation. Now, you were worked up again. The events of skin touching skin had been stuck in your mind. 

You couldn’t get his extremely large hands and hot body out of your head. For something that was supposed to be a stress reliever, the thought of his sex lived on within you and it was getting annoying. He caught up with you after you rushed out the room as soon as class ended.

“You have time before your next class?” He peered down at you, grinning a sexy and devilish smile.

“Why?” You ask. 

“Let’s go grab a bite to eat, on me. I promise really do work harder than I like to show off. The thing I did for the project isn’t really my character. I just didn’t like how the other girls were going to push all the work on you.” 

He sounded genuinely sorry for the situation.

“It’s fine. They deserved it anyway. They never replied to me when I texted them. If it wasn’t for you using your ‘sexiness’ to make them get busy, we would’ve gotten a shitty grade for sure.” You used air quotes around the word ‘sexiness’.

“You think I’m sexy?” He said smugly.

“Of course that’s all you picked up from the entirety of what I said.” You rolled your eyes, and he laughed a hearty laugh.

“Obviously,” you say quietly, he almost didn’t hear you. 

“You’re so fucking cute,” he said, laughter dying down. You had this annoyed blush on your face as the both of you walked. You did end up going out to eat with him. But somehow, you also ended up fucking him in the restaurant bathroom right after.

His hands squeezed your hips as you pressed you ass closer against him. You never realized you could feel so full. He slammed his length into you, while you shamelessly watched yourself pant beneath him in front of the mirror.

“You’re such a pretty girl, look how pretty you are. I wanna see your face again when you cum.” He coaxed you whilst gripping your neck. 

“Don’t be so loud though, then we’ll get caught. You don’t want this to end do you?”

Your juices were running down your weak legs, and you were holding back pleasure filled squeals while he rammed himself into you. It had been a while since you had been fucked so well aside from last Friday. And something about the thrill of someone knocking on the door, which wasn’t even locked, helped you find your climax during that 10 minute session.

You called out his name as you clenched around his length, causing him to throw his hand over your hot mouth.

“Shhh,” he shushed you as he lifted your body towards his own. 

“We won’t be able to do stuff like this in the future if you’re so loud.” His hot breath poured into your ear. Your knees were burning, but the pleasure in your core was enough to over shadow it. You were ashamed to admit it, but you were cumming again onto his dick.

“Satoru, my legs...” you muffled against his hand.

“I’ve got you sweetheart, don’t worry.” His thrusts were quickening and you felt him twitch inside you. He released himself into the rubber he wore before removing his member from you. You collapsed your upper body onto the sink for support.

He was incredibly sweet somehow, sliding your jeans and panties up for you. 

“Can you walk?” He asked.

“I can manage.” You say, stumbling back against his chest. He caught you whilst you buttoned your jeans. 

“The look on your face is priceless.” He said, looking at you in the mirror. You were a disheveled blushing mess, but somehow you were scowling at him for making you cum in such a short time.

“You can hold my arm for support,” he watched as you fixed what you could of your top and hair. 

“Shut up.” You said, wrapping yourself onto his arm and exiting the bathroom.

Sex with him was filled with plentiful moments like this. He would spontaneously show up around you, asking to hang out. It helped out a lot, considering you were less stressed and chirpier, your friends noticed. A little bit of dick does everyone good sometimes. 

You did your best to keep it strictly sex related, and you felt like he was casually following whatever you wanted to do. He was a decent friend, listening to your qualms about school and your other friendships. He took in a lot of stories and life situations from you, but he rarely ever talked about himself. You had slept with him countless times by then, but you really knew nothing about him. The thing that made it worse is that he started to sex you more passionately, stirring your feelings in a bunch.

He towered above your body in the dark moonlit room. It was another Friday, and you were lost in his sex yet again. He was so close, kissing and sucking your lips til they were sore and bruised. He dragged his mouth against your neck and down to your chest. You didn’t know what had gotten into him, but he was keen to keep the space between you as close as possible. You hadn’t see him all week, and you both didn’t have any classes together this season. The spontaneous adventures became more planned due to your busy schedules.

He inserted himself into your warmth, making you arch your back and press your breasts to his chest. 

“Fuck, I missed you.”

Your entire head was hot from the whisper he made into your ear. You wished he wouldn’t say things like that. It was starting to fuck with you. You let out a moan as he filled you up completely, grinding your sex towards him from underneath.

“It looks like you missed me too,” he chuckled. Your sex was loud and wet. You couldn’t lie to him even if you tried— your body wouldn’t let you.

You found yourself moaning how much you missed him as he rolled into you endlessly throughout the evening. 

“I know baby,” he placed sweet kisses against your face and neck, “I know.”

You chose to block this specific memory out whenever you told your friends this story. He had sexed you like he loved you that night and you had too many orgasms to count.

You awoke in the morning with him clinging to your naked body. It really wasn’t the first time something romantic like this had happened but it was the first time you felt provoked to say something.

“Satoru...” You said against his hair. He grumbled a groggy hum into your neck. You didn’t know if this was the right time to say it, but you were tired of the subtle hints of affection he had been mixing in with all the lust. 

“It’s getting hard for me to keep this relationship strictly sex based,” you begin.

“I really do want to get to know you more. But sometimes you throw me these mixed signals and I get confused.” 

He sat up, bringing his blue gaze towards yours.

“Then we should stop.” He said bluntly. He wasn’t asking you either. 

“We should,” you sort of agree, confusedly.

“I had a feeling this was going to happen.” He said, tearing himself from you. 

“But it’s cool. I’ve got somewhere to be. You need a ride home?” He asked. You nodded. That morning for the first time in a long time, you both got dressed together in solitude. There was no banter, no joking around and none of the occasional compliment or kiss.

He drove you home, in comfortable silence on his part. When you both of reached in front of your house he finally spoke.

“Don’t look so down, honey. At the end of the day, you were just a warm body to me. Cheer up though, you served your purpose.”

You could’ve cried but you knew exactly what this was from the beginning. Was it possible he was starting to feel something? And this was his way of running from it? You stared at your lap. There was no point of trying to read too hard into it now.

“Thanks for the ride.” You say, shutting the door. He watched you walk into your house. He hadn’t known you were so sensitive considering the persona you’d been giving him since the very beginning. He would never be able to apologize to you for it either— he had too much pride.

He never texted or called you after that. Not that you were surprised, you knew he wasn’t the one for you. He was too secretive despite his outgoing nature. An experience it was, you thought it was fun. You did your best to look at the situation as optimistically as possible.

Whenever you saw him on campus, you didn’t even bother looking at him. You walked right by him. He knew better than to speak to you. One day you were sitting in the cafe you first met him in. It was raining just like it was last year. You knew he saw you scribbling away through the glass window. He entered anyway, with a brunette attached to his arm. She laughed loudly as she pressed her breasts to his bicep. You casually sipped your iced coffee, eying him briefly before returning to your work.

He was pretty ballsy.

“You okay babe?” Suguru slid his large hand over yours, breaking you out of your thoughts. 

You hummed in delight, watching him take hold of your hand and press your knuckles to his lips. 

“When you’re done, how about we go to that Hibachi place you like?”

You held back an excited squeal at the dark haired male in front of you.

“I’d like that a lot.”

part 2

[americasmarauders]

What about ....

“i’m not worthy of anybody’s love.” “that’s not true, you’re worthy of mine.” followed by the lover breaking eye-contact… + a love confession

Followed with tentative kisses in the dark

With Jason Todd x reader ❤❤❤❤❤

Lots of love xoxo

did this get completly out of hand? yes, yes it did. It was supposed to be short and sweet, but suddenly I had 12 pages of angst ready to make their way into the world. 

I’m so sorry it took so long, elle, life got in my way, but now you have like, 6k+ words to make up for it. I really hope you like it.

warnings: completly unedited, sorry for the typos :))

words: 6,856

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Aged 14, sometime in September.

Mason Anderson was the biggest dick she had ever met. He was petty and jealous and he picked on her just because. She just wanted peace, quietly resolving  the homework she had spent an entire week working on. The library was empty, safe for a couple of other students when he barged in and robbed her of her papers. 

He claimed he needed it more than her, he was the one almost flunking out of the class. She demanded her homework back, but he ran towards the boy’s bathroom with her work. It wasn’t the first time that sullen feeling of despair had been planted on her by Mason Anderson, it still didn’t make it any easier. 

She sat in front of the boys bathroom, hugging her knees in an attempt to find comfort. She kept thinking that she could do it again, she had done it once, theoretically it would be faster to do it a second time. Light footsteps echoed through the hall, her eyes found their way to the source of the noise. 

Jason Todd was a tiny kid with a big brain and an even bigger heart. He had helped her with English more times than she cared to admit. Sometimes she would see him walking towards the alley near the Academy, holding an extra package of chips to the little kid that stayed there sometimes. She liked Jason Todd, considering him the only alley she had inside the cold walls of the Gotham Academy. 

“What’re you doing here?” he asked, delicately, sitting beside her. “I thought you were gonna finish Statam’s paper today.”

“Mason Anderson stole it,” her eyes were cast downwards, looking at the seams of the floor with an almost inhuman interest. “He wanted to copy it, and I wouldn’t let him so he decided to flush down the toilet instead.”

“I’m sorry,” he muttered to her, sitting next to her on the floor. 

“It’s okay,” she shook her head, stretching her legs in front of her. “I just,” she sighed, trying to find the words, “I spent one week working on that, and I really needed the grade, you know? But he just didn’t care, he just thought of himself.”

Jason looked at her, softly. His eyes held a certain fire behind them, something she could never really describe what it was. It was entrancing, it calmed the pace of her heart.  He didn’t say anything before getting up and marching towards the boys bathroom. 

She didn’t hear anything going on inside, her mind imagining all sorts of scenarios where Jason would emerge from the bathroom beaten and defeated, Mason walking out completely victorious, with a shiny top grade Literature paper in hand. Her blood boiled at the image, more so than it did before. She got up from the ground, determined to help Jason win the fight, even if her papers were already down the plumbing. 

But the door flung open, her friend walking out calmly, clutching her homework delicately. He offered her a smile, and as the door closed behind Jason she could see Mason on the ground gripping his nose in pain. 

“Here,” the papers were completely dry to the touch, her confusion deepening. “He was copyin’ it.”

“I can’t believe you got this back,” she whispered, shaking her head in disbelief. “I thought… I thought I'd have to redo it.”

“Nah,” he smiled shyly, “I would’ve helped ya.”

“I can’t really depend on you for everything, Jason,” she replied politely. “It’s not fair.”

“I got your back,” he affirmed, “ya don’t need to worry.”

And it meant the world to her that he did. 

#

#

Aged 16, October 12th. 

Jason Todd and her became friends after the Mason Anderson incident. She didn’t know what Jason had said to him, what had he done, all she knew was that Mason never bothered her again after that. 

It was the night of her 16th birthday. It was late, probably past 3 in the morning when Jason carefully landed on the fire escape that led to her bedroom. He carefully carried a small box, wrapped neatly with a blue bow. He had chosen the gift lovingly, his heart warm with her. Jason hadn’t expected her to be such an integral part of his life, but just as quietly as she arrived, she placed herself in his heart permanently. She was his friend, true friend, she didn’t expect anything other than his company and support, something he was glad to provide. 

His knuckles lightly grazed her window, making the softest noise.  Her shades were partially open, he could see her body lying comfortably on her bed. She moved slightly, her body turning towards the window. Her hands rubbed her eyes delicately, seeing Jason smile awkwardly at her. She got up and dragged her feet towards him, opening her window to him. 

“What’re you doing here?” her voice was slurred, intoxicated with sleep. 

“You know, you should really lock your windows,” he commented, “Gotham’s a dangerous city.”

“Jay,” she warned, “what’re you doing here? It’s…”she searched for her clock, “fuck, 3 in the morning.”

“It’s your birthday,” he responded clearly, as if it was the most obvious reason why he was on her fire escape, on a cold October night only wearing a light jacket.

She blinked at his blunt response, confused on what to say to him. “You’ll see me tomorrow, Jay, I don’t understand why’d you come all this way just to see me.”

“Because it’s you,” he shrugged, stepping into her bedroom silently. “You really thought I wouldn’t see you on your birthday?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered, looking down at her feet. A soft breeze came in through the window sending shivers down her spine. Jason closed the window for her and she sent a silent thank you towards his way. “I thought you wouldn’t bother.”

“Well,” he extended the little box to her. Her fingers brushed on his softly, a shock sent on his skin at the touch, “I couldn’t not see you.”

Her hands hugged the box carefully, hesitant on what to do with what was given to her. “Open it,” he urged her. 

She eyed him suspiciously, undoing carefully the blue bow that decorated the gift. Opening the box, a tiny robin pendant next to two tiny stones pendants, an opal and an onyx: her birthstone and his. “Wow,” she breathed out, her heart racing inside her chest. Suddenly, she didn’t feel sleepy anymore. “Jason, this is… You didn’t have to.”

“Of course I had,” he stated, his eyes soft and loving, lingering on her more than they should. “You mean a lot to me, darling.”

Her eyes glinted underneath the pale moonlight streaming through the half closed curtains of her room. Jason’s breath hitched quietly at the sight of her, disheveled and sleepy and yet the most perfect person to grace his life. She was at a loss for words for a few moments, opening and closing her mouth, not knowing how to react. Her eyes trailed frenetically over the pendants, trying to find meaning in those.

“Why a robin?” the inquiry startled Jason. He wasn’t expecting to explain himself, much less explain why he had given her a robin pendant. She had no clue what he did when the night fell, who Bruce actually was and he intended to keep her in the dark about that aspect of his life. She didn’t need to know anyway, and telling her would only put her in danger. That was what Bruce made her believe. 

“It reminded me of you,” he answered, simply, his eyes fixated on her angelic face. 

It wasn’t untrue. Robins were friendly and protected over, birds that should never be harmed. Jason made sure of that, he had her back, always, and he knew she had his. But mostly, he wanted her to have a piece of him everywhere she went. If something were to happen, he wanted to guarantee he wouldn’t be a footnote in her life. What a magnificent life that would be, he knew.

Her eyes ran on his face, looking for a hint that he wasn’t sincere, that he was just messing with her. The thought was more heartbreaking than she anticipated. She found nothing malicious in his face, in his eyes, and smiled back at him. “Thank you, Jay,” she kissed his cheek delicately, her lips barely brushing his skin. It was enough to send both of them into a frenzy of feelings, a thousand thoughts running through their heads. 

“Here,” he extended his hands, his eyes clear and full of emotion for her, “I’ll put it on for you.”

She handed him the box, turning around so he could clasp the hook of the necklace. Jason was considerably smaller than her - she guessed it was because of the years of malnutrition he endured when he lived on the streets - so she sat on her bed to meet his height. His fingers brushed slightly at the back of her neck, sending goosebumps on her body.

It was when she turned to look at him again that she realized that maybe Jason wasn’t just a friend to her. Maybe the interest she had in Jason, or how her heart raced when she saw him for the first time in the day weren’t because he was her friend. Maybe it was because she had decided to love him with all her soul. 

#

#

Aged 16, April 28th.

It was ironic how sunny it was in Gotham that day. It was like nothing had happened, the world hadn’t gotten the memo that it was supposed to be gloomy and sad outside, to match the pain she felt inside. 

On the deep green grass of Gotham cemetery, stood her and Jason’s family, listening to a priest preach something meaningless to her. Nothing mattered to her anymore, her friend, best friend, was buried deep into the earth, 6 feet under. She would never get to see him again, hear his laugh, take in his smile. She would never have another birthday with him, give him his favorite books, tell him she loved him. Her eyes were fixed on the fresh dirt lain over his shiny coffin, her hand fidgeting on the robin pendant Jason had gifted mer  months before. It wasn’t an open casket, she couldn’t even see him for the last time. 

The call was the most confusing moment she had ever gone through. He didn't even tell her he was going after his mom. He didn’t even get to explain that to her. Jason just burst through her window late at night, saying he was leaving Gotham for a few weeks, anger seeping through his pores and contaminating the room. His knuckles were badly bruised, as her fingertips lightly brushed he hissed. She didn’t question him, it didn’t even go through her head. He had said he wanted to find a part of him, and she nodded, wishing him luck. 

Looking back, she wished she had begged him to stay, to find that part of him in Gotham, with her away from the perils of foreign bombs. Tears sprouted in her eyes as the thought passed through her head. It wasn’t her fault, she couldn’t predict a tragedy would have happened. It had become a mantra to her, and sometimes repeating it to herself didn’t help at all.

Bruce Wayne stood next to her, stoic, his face stony. It almost didn’t look like he had lost a son. But she saw how his jaw tensed, how it was similar to when Jason was upset and didn’t want to tell her about it. She could see how broken he was inside, how angry and desperate. She felt that too. 

The priest stopped talking and the four people standing on that lawn let out a stuck breath of relief. Jason’s brother approached his Father, walking away from her. She stared at the stone, cold like Jason’s body, with the engrave ‘Jason Todd, beloved son and friend’. It didn’t make justice to what Jason actually was, he was much more than just a son and a friend, but it was what they used to describe him. If Jason had decided what his epitaph would be, surely would be a dramatic quote from Shakespeare. 

Her name was called out in a posh british accent and she turned toward the person. What she saw was an older gentleman, holding a black umbrella to protect his baldness from the sun. A thin mustache hung over his upper lip, molded into a sad frown. “I’m Alfred Pennyworth. Master Jason talked a lot about you,” he commented with his left hand behind his back.

“All good things, I hope?” she joked quietly, her eyes trailed to her black shoes, wet grass glued to the sides of it. 

“The best things, I assure,” his voice was firm and calm, his accent oozed her security, something she was eager to cling on. He reached for the inner pocket of his blazer, pulling a crisp white card. She furrowed her eyebrows, accepting the card. On it, it had Alfred’s name, his profession underneath and a phone number. “If you ever find yourself needing anything, I’ll be happy to help.”

She nodded, her thumb lightly brushing the expensive paper on her hand. “Thank you Mister Pennyworth,” her eyes found the old man, the wrinkles around it making his stern stance seem gentler. “Thank you.”

“Would you like to come over for some tea?” he offered. “I’m sure Master Bruce wouldn’t mind having his son’s friend over.”

She wanted to, a force inside her compelled her to accept his offer. But her heart was broken, and she didn’t know if she was ready to enter what used to be Jason’s home so fast after he was buried. At the same time, maybe she didn’t have the nerve to say no to such a kind person. “I--,” she hesitated, “okay, I’ll have some tea.”

#

#

Aged 18, mid-August.

“I don’t know what to do, Alfred,” her hands fiddling with the necklace Jason had given her long ago. “It feels like I’m at a crossroads and every sign points to the direction my heart doesn’t want to go.”

The old butler poured her mint tea - her favorite, as he had learned over the weekly visits she paid him - calmly and firmly as she ranted. “What is holding you back?”

She looked at Alfred, her eyes confused at the question. She hadn’t lingered on the fact of why she didn’t want to accept the scholarship on Metropolis. Her brain told her it was only logical, she would miss her parents, her weekly meeting with Alfred, her hometown. But Alfred was always one step ahead, he had a sixth sense as she had come to learn. “You know,” she replied softly, her eyes lingering on the beautiful teacup in front of her. 

He said her name, getting her attention. “Master Jason isn’t here anymore,” he stated simply, laying cookies on her plate, “you don’t have to stay behind for him.”

“I know,” she picked up the spoon and twirled it between her fingers. “But,” she hesitated, not knowing how to phrase her feelings, “Alfred, I can’t even think of it. I can’t wrap my brain around leaving him.”

“You are not leaving him,” his voice was calm and gentle, softening her panic. “You are moving on.”

She shook her head, her eyes shut close tightly. “It doesn’t feel like it,” she whispered, “I feel like I’m meant to be here, Alfred. I can’t really explain it.”

“Well, if you do decide to stay in Gotham, I hope we can continue our weekly teas,” Alfred said, a tone of hope in his voice. 

She smiled at him, her eyes filled with kindness. “If I do decide to stay, I’d love to keep our weekly teas,” her smile stayed as she uttered the words. “I appreciate our time together, Alfred.”

“I’m honored,” he said to her, bringing the teacup to his lips.

Heavy footsteps sounded behind her and she turned around to see who it was. Turning around, her hand bringing the teacup to her lips, she saw a disheveled Bruce Wayne walking towards her. His eyes were barely opened, prominent bags under his eyes cast a shadow on his features. His tie hung untied on his neck, his shirt over his pants, the sleeves folded up to his elbows. It was a stark contrast from the Bruce Wayne she had seen at Jason's funeral, two years back, the one she saw frequently splattered on the news front pages.  

“Oh,” he stopped on his tracks, his hands falling limply to his sides. His jaw tensed and, suddenly, a mask fell on his face, the vulnerability he displayed a few seconds before gone. He wasn’t anymore Bruce, a guy who had just woken up and wanted something from the kitchen of his oversized home, he was the Bruce Wayne, now. The velocity of the transformation haunted her. “I didn’t realize we had visitors.”

She rested the teacup pack on the counter, and got up from the stool. “I’m so sorry Mr. Wayne,” she muttered, extending her hand, introducing herself. “I am, was, Jason’s friend.”

“Yes, yes,” he nodded, “I remember you.”

Alfred looked pointenly at Bruce as pulled a mug from a cabinet. He poured coffee for himself, and leaned against the counter next to Alfred. She stood there next to her stool, paralyzed in his presence. Everytime she was present in Wayne Manor, Bruce was either too busy to ever grace them with his presence, or away on some business trip she never bothered to ask what for. “We have weekly teas, Master Bruce,” Alfred said, his tone laced with something deeper than announcing their weekly traditions. 

Bruce’s jaw tightened somehow and his blue eyes rested on her. Her eyes drifted to her teacup, her tea getting cold. She was itching to grab it and drink it, but she felt uncomfortable even moving a inch from her place, much less feeling the liberty to resume her previous behavior. “Really?” his eyebrows shot up, his head tilting slightly. “Please, seat, pretend I’m not here.”

She hesitated before sitting back down. Her hands hugged her teacup, the warmth of it seeping through her skin. It was hard to pretend he was not there next to her, looking at her with judging eyes. She wondered if he remembered her from the funeral, if he had thought of her when he was thinking of Jason’s legacy, what his son had left behind. Her eyes looked up at Bruce before quickly darting back down to her tea, “Yeah, I don’t really wanna go to Metropolis,” she whispered, resuming her previous conversation with Alfred. The air in the kitchen was tense and awkward, she couldn’t look any of them men in the room in the eyes. 

“I’m certain Gotham U will admit you,” Alfred reassured her, “You’re a brilliant person, they’d be fools to let you go.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” her eyes were focused on the tea, like it was the most important thing in that kitchen. “They usually don’t take this long to send the letters, it’s making me nervous.”

“Gotham U, huh?” Bruce chipped in. “What’s your major?”

She looked expantly at Alfred, trying to see if he knew any of Bruce’s intentions. But she often forgot how impassive Alfred was, how in control of his emotions he was, something she lacked. He didn’t show her anything, she assumed he knew of something, like usually. “Applied physics,” she responded, quietly. 

“Wow,” Bruce breathed out, “impressive.”

She offered him an awkward smile in return. It was hard to find a response to the reaction of others when they became aware of her major. It was highly uncommon, and usually those who followed that path were men. When people discovered what she wanted to do with her life, they almost always reacted like they had found an unicorn.

“Well, when you do graduate, look for me, I can help you get a job,” Bruce politely offered, his tone kind. She looked up at him for the first time, his expression almost fatherly. 

“Thank you Mr. Wayne, that’s very kind of you,” she bored her head, looking down at her tea once again. 

His phone rang, and he picked it up from his pocket. Her eyes trailed over to his expression, his jaw once again tense. “You’re welcome,” he replied, feigning happiness and comfort. “If you’ll excuse me,” he left the kitchen in broad steps, his shoulders tense and determined. 

That was the first time she came to the conclusion that Bruce Wayne was a strange man. 

#

#

Aged 22, end of May.

College was an excruciating experience, but finally she had left it all behind. With her diploma in hands, she finally felt a small semblance of freedom, something she had longed when isinde the four walls of her old dorm in Gotham U. 

She stepped into the ground floor of Wayne towers, her shoes clicking nervously on the floor. She had made sure to dress properly to meet Bruce Wayne, unsure of what he’d think if she showed up dressed like a broke college student, something that she very much was. It was the mentality of fake it till you make it, aim a bit higher and maybe you’ll get there. She desperately wished she’d get there.

One of the receptionists let her in, indicating the floor in which she should go to. Her hands sweat gripping the folder with her recommendations and her resume, she gulped looking at the elevator intently. Her free hand found its way to the tiny robin gently resting on her neck. She wished Jason was there to help her, give her tips on what to say to his Father to make him glad, and what to avoid doing so that he’d hire her. She could imagine him if she closed her eyes, next to her, barely taller than her, smiling at her wishing her good luck. The elevator dinged, bringing her back to reality. Jason wasn’t next to her, and she didn’t have anyone to give her tips on what to say to her potential boss. She was alone, just like she had been for six long years. 

In spite of the hundred floors of the building - quite literally - the elevator ride was fast. When the doors opened, it revealed a small greeting room, with a couple of couches and a tall window illuminating it. She eyed directly in front of her, the double doors with a tiny plaque with the name Bruce Wayne engraved on it. Her eyes lingered on it for a couple of moments, as she walked towards the lonesome couch next to the big window. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the beating heart. She wondered if Bruce was already inside the room, if he remembered what he had offered to her all those years ago, or if he had just been polite and did not plan on following with it at all. 

After that strange meeting with him four years back, she had barely seen him again. A couple of times she had seen a shadow passing through the corridors while she was heading out of the Manor, someone she assumed for the sake of her mental health it was Bruce Wayne and not a ghost. The notion that he was a strange man only intensified, adding the perception that he was hiding something. She knew he was a good actor, but she could see tiny cracks and slips, an ability gained from years of loneliness. It was hard to say what it was that he was keeping a secret from everyone, but there was something there. 

Her name was called and she saw Bruce Wayne standing underneath the frame of the double doors that lead to his office. She got up promptly and walked towards him, her grip on her folder tight. His hand was extended and she shook it professionally, pretending like she wasn’t panicking inside. 

“I have someone I’d like for you to meet,” he stated, guiding her inside his office. The office was probably four times bigger than the small room she had stayed previously, the large windows providing a beautiful view from Gotham. You could almost pretend it was a normal city looking out from that window. “This,”  he motioned to the man sitting on a cozy nook in the back of the room, “is Lucius Fox.”

The man was big and well built, his round glasses standing on the tip of his nose. He smiled at her, crinkles forming beside his eyes. His hand found his glasses, taking them off and putting them in his pocket. “Nice to meet you, Miss. mr. Wayne has talked a lot about you,” he stated, his hand extended for her to take it. 

She looked back at Bruce, confused. After all, he remembered her and he remembered his offer. She turned back to Lucius and shook his hand, a determined expression on her face. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Fox.”

“Lucius Fox is the head of our R&D department, and has agreed to take you as his personal apprentice,” Bruce explained. 

Shock overcame her, her eyes wide. She looked between Lucius’ kind smile and Bruce’s stoic stance, unable to believe the opportunity was real. “Really?” she uttered incredulously. 

“I have some personal projects and I’d very much need the help,” Lucius explained, calmly. “Mr. Wayne has talked highly of you, I’m eager to see what you’re capable of doing.”

“I--,” she shook her head, trying to get rid of the hesitation, “thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome,” Bruce responded, a small smile gracing his lips. “I’m sure you’ll do great.”

#

#

Aged 24, April 26th.

The humid air of the cave made sweat drip down her face as she tinkered away with a broken gadget she had designed for Bruce’s night time activities, as she had so dearly called it. 

It was a new development, the cave and the capes and the vigilantism. The two years she invested working with Lucius all served a greater purpose to Bruce. She was to be the next Lucius Fox, help provide Batman, or rather Bruce - in her head it was still confusing to assume that the guy who had given her a job was the ‘Dark Knight’ - with gadgets capable of doing everything that his physical capabilities couldn’t. Lucius was old and reaching retirement, and even if he loved his job, he was reaching his limit. She was beyond grateful for his guidance, she had learned so much. But he had left her a fucking weird job. There was no other way to describe it. 

The cave was quiet, Bruce had left sometime before, she could only hear Alfred quietly talking to Bruce through the comms and the drip-drip of water falling from the ceiling and hitting the small lake underneath her. She had settled in a little abandoned nook, her tools all scattered on top of her table. She rested the screw driver she was working with on the table, lifting the magnifying lens. She rubbed her face, tired of looking towards the tiny malfunctioning screen.

Her hands remained on her face, concealing her emotions. The robin pendant always felt especially heavy on the 26th of April. It had been 8 years since she had seen Jason, and as pathetic as it sounded, she never really got over the loss of him. They always felt particularly lost, she couldn’t focus on anything other than him, running circles around any problem presented to her. Looking at the gadget, it felt nearly impossible to find a solution to it, her mind foggy with sadness and grief that she could never really shake off, even with years between her and the day he had died. 

The knowledge that Bruce kept everything as Jason had left, and even made a little homage to his Robin days in a secret corner of the cave, hidden from view, was heavy in her heart. She struggled to keep her eyes trailed to her task and not at the memory of Jason. She took a sharp breath, trying desperately to sew herself together. It was truly pathetic how much it still affected her, how open the wound still was. 

A sharp motor sound echoed through the walls of the cave, disturbing the few bats that hung from the ceiling. A guy built like a fucking brick wall parked his bike on the platform, taking long strides towards where Alfred stood. He adorned a cracked red helmet that glistened in the white lights that illuminated the pathway. His heavy footsteps echoed through, her eyes unable to escape from him. She approached silently, praying that that loose panel near the little stairs that lead to the main computer wouldn’t scratch underneath her weight. 

“Where the fuck is Bruce?” he growled, his hands balled into fists next to him. His leather jacket was worn and old, its sleeves bunched up near his elbow, exposing his veiny forearms. The cracked part of the helmet revealed his blue eyes, sparkling in a familiar way. It tugged her heartstrings, her hand instinctively went to her robin. It couldn’t be, Jason was dead. 

“He’s on patrol, Master Jason,” Alfred said calmly, his eyes trailed to the screens in front of him. Alfred acted like this man’s fits of anger were completely normal. 

Her brain repeated that it wasn’t Jason, it was a mere coincidence that this man’s name was the same as her dead best friend’s. Jason was a tiny and scrawny kid, he wasn’t tall and thick like this man. Jason wasn’t bitter and prone to anger fits, even if he was angry most of the time. He was silent and kind and sweet, this man looked to be the opposite of it. 

“He promised, Alfred, where is he?” he growled, his fist slamming on the table. “He fucking promised.”

“I’m sure he’ll arrive soon, if you’d like to wait,” Alfred motioned to the medical bay, the gurney sitting there on its lonesome. The man huffed, marching to the gurney, otherwise ignoring her presence a few feet away. 

She approached Alfred quietly. “Who was that?” her voice laced with curiosity and fear. 

Alfred looked at her serenely, knowing something she didn’t. He smiled at her, teh crinkles around his eyes appearing generously. “Why don’t you find out?,” he responded to her camly. 

She took it as an order, and made her way towards the small infirmary area. Her footsteps were light and determined, her hand clutching the robbing resting on her chest tightly. Her brain ran over scenarios on how likely it was that this person had almost every physical attribute to her best friend Jason, if he had taken steroids for the past 8 years. It wasn’t likely, but in light of her new knowledge, of how close the supernatural was to her, it was very much possible. 

“Do you want me to take a look?” she asked quietly, shifting the weight from her heels to the tips of her toes. She felt so small in his presence, something she didn’t feel with Bruce, oddly. Maybe it was because Bruce didn’t give off such menacing vibes when he was near her, or maybe it was because her brain was unconsciously comparing this man to her Jason, who had always been smaller than her. “At the helmet, I mean.”

He eyed her surgically, analyzing everything about her. His eyes rested on her pendants, widening slightly in recognition. It took almost everything in her to control her beating heart, to control her brain trying to say that in fact that man before her was her Jason, and it wasn’t her brain playing tricks on her. 

He gently took his helmet off, revealing his crisp black hair cooly laying on his forehead. His eyes focused on the helmet, his arms extended to give it to her gently. Her eyes would leave his face, a face she had longed to see for eight excruciatingly long years. His eyes had remained the same, after all: kind and sweet. His face, however, told a story of hardships and pain, hardened by whatever he had been through all these years. She didn’t know how to feel, if she should feel betrayed he hadn't trusted her enough to say that he was alive, that he was six feet under anymore, or if she should feel elated that Jason was alive and she could finally tell him all the things she wanted to.

Her fingers brushed him slightly, as she picked up the broken helmet from his hands. His hands still felt the same, her heart noticed, picking up a beat. She looked at the crack that exposed half of his face, the electrical parts fizzling dangerously. Her eyes focused on Jason once again, her lips shut painfully. The tears that came to her eyes were inevitable, trembling fingers reaching at her robin pendant, clutching it tightly. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t,” he shook his head gently, “it’s not your fault.”

She could see he wanted to touch her, but something held him back. She wouldn’t find out what until much later.  

#

#

Aged 24, August 16th. 

Jason had promised her he would show up, and he never broke his promises. That was what she repeated to herself, late at night. She had prepared everything for his birthday, bought a present for him and baked a cake. She had said that he was supposed to appear at seven. It was well past midnight, the cake had found its way back to the fridge, the present was back in her closet, and he hadn’t showed up yet. 

A part of her kept telling her to give up, her best friend had stood her up: Jason changed fundamentally, he wasn’t the same boy he was when she met him and it was foolish to hang on to that notion; it was perfectly plausible that he had the habit of breaking promises now.  But she was well aware of that, she saw it in the tiny things how much Jason was transformed, it still didn’t change the fact that she knew he valued loyalty above all else, and that included loyalty to his words. He wouldn’t break his promise to her. 

She changed out of the cute dress she was wearing, feeling foolish and sad that she was about to give up most of the hope that he would show up. Her pyjamas welcomed her comfortably, a safe space to let the heartbreak settle on her. He won’t break his promise, she repeated mentally, he won’t. The mantra did little to soothe the growing dread inside her, the notion that maybe she didn’t know him as well as she did. That he didn’t tell her everything that day, that he didn’t trust her anymore. It hurt more than she anticipated. 

Sleep was almost consuming her when she heard a loud clang outside her bedroom. She shook awake, throwing the covers off her instinctively. Her hand grabbed the baseball bat that rested beside her bed, bringing it up and close to her. With slow steps, she approached the window. Her fear settled when she saw the familiar red helmet staring back at her, begging to let him in. She dropped the bat on the floor, opening the window. 

He got in her room awkwardly, struggling to pass his huge frame through a tiny space. She reached to help him, offering her hands. He took them, butterflies running amok on her tummy. “You’re late,” she commented, trying to mask the hurt in her voice. 

“I know,” he said, taking off his helmet and dropping it on top of her bed. “I’m sorry.”

She hummed looking at him underneath the moonlight seeping through her window. She hadn’t gotten used to how big he became, and how smaller she felt in his presence. She was by no means a small woman, but his entire being could encapsulate her with a simple hug, and not the other way around like it used to be. “Why are you late?” she moved to sit on the bed, the helmet rolling off the bed delicately. 

He looked at her, sitting down next to her gently. “I don’t know,” he answered, rubbing his hands together, his elbows resting on his thighs. 

“Why do I feel like you’re not being honest with me?” her head tilted, looking at his beautiful profile. There was a scar connecting his right temple to the corner of his upper lip, and it made him even more beautiful than he already was. He fascinated her to no end, his brain, his looks, his entire being was what made her keep going, the light on the end of her tunnel. 

His eyes trailed over her face, looking for something she guessed he wouldn’t find. “Why are you always so nice to me?”

“What do you mean, Jason,” she breathed out, confused at the inquiry. “I’m your friend, I’m supposed to be nice to you.”

“No, you’re not,” he shook his head, his hands balled into fists and his eyes closed. “You’re not supposed to be kind to me,” he got up, his back towards her.

“Stop it, Jason, you’re scaring me,” she whispered, her voice shaking a bit. 

“You’re supposed to be angry at me. I abandoned you, left you alone, and when I came back I didn’t tell you, I didn’t look for you,” he continued, trying to manipulate her emotions.

“Why are you saying these things, Jason, they’re not true,” she got up, her voice no longer shaking, determined and focused. 

“Because I don’t deserve it,” he turned to her, his eyes tortured and sad. “I don’t deserve your kindness and friendship. I’m not worthy of it.”

“Jay, I--” she started, but Jason interrupted her. 

“Don’t, please. I’m not worthy of anyone’s love,” his voice was heavy with emotion. She discovered that Jason was often ruled by two main emotions: sadness and anger. In that moment, she could only see those in him and a part of her broke.

“That’s not true, you’re worthy of mine,” her voice was so honest and raw, it caught Jason by surprise. She didn’t know what he expected out of her at that moment, maybe to give in to his spiral of bad thoughts and self flagellation, but she refused to let him believe those awful things. “Jason, you really don't know?”

He remained in silence, his eyes wide and shocked, focused on the ground. His jaw was tense and his hands balled into fists tightly. She took a hesitant step towards him, reaching for his hands. They relaxed under her touch and she threaded her fingers through his. It wasn’t hard to notice how perfectly they fit with each other, like to halves of a whole. “I’ve loved you ever since I was 14 and you marched into the boys bathroom to get my lit homework back from Mason Anderson,” she whispered, her eyes focused on his face, while his were focused on their hands together. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, I’m so sorry it took me so long to say it, Jay. But I can’t let you believe all those horrible things you said. Not when I love you more than anything in this world.”

He stayed silent for a couple of moments, her heart beating erratically inside her chest, fearing she had screwed up their friendship for good. In a way, it was worst to know he was out there and didn't want to speak to her because she dared to tell him about her love for him. “Please say something,” she begged him quietly. 

His eyes finally found hers, his hands breaking the link they formed. He rested his hands on her cheeks gently, and she dared say, lovingly. Her heart started beating excitedly, the fear slowly dissipating as his gaze got more intense. 

His lips brushed against hers, her eyes fluttering closed at the contact. He kissed her gently, a love delicate and fragile, just acknowledged between them both. His grip on her was firm, his thumb grazing delicately on her cheekbones. Her hands thread through his soft hair, still slightly humid from the sweat caused by the helmet. The air was charged with want, tentative kiss toeing the line between what it was and something more. 

She wished to stay like that forever. She prayed to  whatever was out there in the Universe, to allow her that happiness. To stay kissing her love tentatively in the dark for as long as she could, as long as he’d let her. 

Jason broke the kiss, his forehead resting on hers. His fingers found their way to the back of her head, cupping it softly. “I love you,” he whispered, his lips almost brushing with hers. She reached for his lips once again, like a magnet finding its match. “I love you so much,” he reassured.

They kissed once again, not intending to break apart any time soon. 

[wicked-d00d]

Dizzy leaves the lecture hall with her backpack on her shoulders. As she walks down the hallway, she passes by other students who seem more engaged in their classes than she is.

"Everyone else looks so focused. Why am I like this? What happened to my brain?"

Dizzy enters an empty bathroom stall where she lights up a joint. She takes several deep breaths as she exhales smoke into the air. "I've been smoking weed since I was 12 years old," says Dizzy. "It helps me focus."

She then goes outside for some fresh air before returning to school. On her way out of the building, she sees another student lighting up a cigarette. The two exchange nods and smile at each other.

After getting home, Dizzy sits down at her desk and opens her laptop. She pulls up her online coursework and begins studying.

“Why did I even bother coming to college?” wonders Dizzy. “I don’t want to learn anything! All I care about is getting high and having fun!"

Dizzy closes her computer and puts away her books. She grabs her phone and starts scrolling through social media posts.

“Look at how much fun everyone else is having without me,” laments Dizzy. “They’re partying all night while I sit here alone.”

Dizzy gets up off the couch and heads over to her bedroom window. She gazes out onto the street below and watches people walking around town.

“What do they have that I don’t?” asks Dizzy. “How come they can go out there and enjoy life but not me?”

Dizzy returns to her room and lies down on her bed. She rolls herself a joint and lights it up.

“This is what I live for!” exclaims Dizzy. “Weed makes everything better!”

Dizzy continues rolling joint after joint until she falls asleep.

She wakes up late the next morning. Her roommate knocks on the door and tells her that she needs to get ready because they are going to miss class if they don’t hurry.

“You know you should stop doing drugs,” says Dizzy’s roommate. “Your parents would kill you if they knew you were using marijuana every day.”

Dizzy ignores her roommate and continues rolling joints. After finishing one last joint, she stands up and heads towards the shower.

“I guess I could try to quit tomorrow,” thinks Dizzy. “But today isn’t tomorrow yet…”

Dizzy finishes taking a shower and dries off. She puts on her clothes and heads out the front door.

“Maybe I will just skip class today,” muses Dizzy. “I mean, why waste time learning when I already know everything anyway?”

Dizzy arrives at campus and decides to head straight to the library instead of attending any classes. Once inside, she finds a seat near the windows and turns on her laptop.

“Now let’s see what happens when I look up "Guilty Gear" on tumblr...”

Dizzy scrolls through various images and videos related to Guilty Gear. She comes across a blog called @gear-project​, which contains information about the characters and storyline of the games.

“Wow, these guys really love Guilty Gear,” observes Dizzy. “And they actually put together a lot of cool stuff too.”

As Dizzy reads through the articles, she learns many interesting facts about the world of Guilty Gear, including herself. She was surprised to learn that she hatched from an egg.

“That explains why I always feel like I’m missing something,” remarks Dizzy. “I wonder what I looked like before I grew feathers and wings?”

Dizzy spends hours reading through the website. When she finally feels satisfied, she logs off and shuts down her computer.

Dizzy heads back to her dorm room and prepares dinner. While eating, she receives a text message from her friend asking her to hangout later tonight.

“Sure thing,” replies Dizzy. “Just give me a few minutes to take a nap first.”

Dizzy smokes a bowl and falls asleep shortly afterwards.

“Alright, let’s go find our favorite DJ!” proclaims Dizzy. “He’ll play us the best music ever!”

Dizzy leads her friends through the crowd and eventually locates the entrance to the dance floor.

“Here we go!” cheers Dizzy. “Party time!”

The group of friends enter the club and begin dancing along to the music. They drink alcohol and smoke cigarettes throughout the evening. At midnight, Dizzy and her friends leave the club and walk back to their cars.

“Let’s meet up again next week,” suggests Dizzy. “I think I might have found a new place to party.”

Dizzy drives home and parks her car in the garage. She locks the doors behind her and heads upstairs to her bedroom.

“Time to relax and unwind,” declares Dizzy. “Tomorrow is another day.”

Dizzy turns on her television and flips through channels until she reaches the news station. A report catches her attention.

“Oh no,” gasps Dizzy.

A picture appears on screen showing a man being charged with possession of illegal substances. He is identified as Johnny Gears, a well known drug dealer in the area.

“Johnny Gears is dead,” announces the anchorwoman. “Police say he died during a shootout with officers earlier this afternoon.”

Dizzy jumps up from her chair and runs over to the TV set.

“No, please tell me it wasn’t him!” pleads Dizzy. “Please tell me he didn’t die!”

Dizzy paces back and forth in her living room. She tries calling his number multiple times but keeps receiving voicemail messages.

“Where are you Johnny?” screams Dizzy. “Don’t leave me! Please answer your phone!”

Dizzy throws her cellphone against the wall and collapses onto the ground. Tears stream down her face as she mourns the loss of her beloved supplier.

“My only source of supply is gone forever,” moans Dizzy. “There must be someone else out there somewhere. But who? Where? How?”

Dizzy remains on the floor crying for hours. Eventually, she calms down enough to stand up and turn off the television.

“I guess I’d better start looking for a new supplier,” reasons Dizzy. “At least I still have my job to fall back on.”

The next day Dizzy woke up and rolled another joint before heading to her shift at McDonalds

Dizzy walks into work and clocks in for her shift, high as usual. As usual, she greets her coworkers by saying hello.

“Hey Dizzy,” says one of them. “Didn’t you hear? Your boss fired you yesterday.”

“WHAT?!” yells Dizzy. “NO WAY!! WHY???”

Dizzy rushes outside and calls her manager.

“Hello?” answers the voice on the other end.

“Hi Mr. Johnson,” says Dizzy. “It’s me, Dizzy. What happened? Why am I no longer employed?”

Mr. Johnson sighs heavily before answering.

“Dizzy, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this for some time now," begins Mr. Johnson. "Unfortunately, I had to fire you due to excessive tardiness."

“Tardiness? That’s ridiculous!” argues Dizzy. “I never showed up late once since I started working here!”

“Yes, but you also missed more than half of your scheduled shifts,” responds Mr. Johnson. “And you smell like you've been smoking weed.

“Smelling like weed doesn’t make me late,” retorts Dizzy. “Besides, how did you even notice? You hardly pay attention to anything around here!"

“Look, Dizzy,” says Mr. Johnson. “I understand that you may need help dealing with certain issues in your personal life. However, I cannot allow you to continue coming to work while under the influence of narcotics or alcohol. It simply isn’t safe for anyone involved.”

“Fine then,” agrees Dizzy. “If you aren’t willing to accept me for who I am, then I guess I’ll just have to move on without you.”

Dizzy leaves the restaurant and heads toward her house. On the way, she passes by a convenience store where she buys snacks and sodas.

Once home, Dizzy takes a long bath and relaxes in the tub. She gets high and enjoys listening to music and watching movies all night. The following morning, Dizzy awakens feeling refreshed and energized.

“Okay, so I lost my job,” reflects Dizzy. “But I still have plenty of money left in my bank account. And I can get more whenever I want if I keep doing what I do best.”

Dizzy rolls another joint and lights it up. She continues smoking marijuana throughout the rest of the day and falls asleep sometime in the early hours of the morning, ready for her next adventure.