#Willow catches on fast

[lollytea]

Hunter teaches the other kids magic-free self defense in Camila's backyard and quickly goes mad with power in the way only PE teachers do.

[willosword]

aaaaAAHHHHH i just caught up with where the last episode left off in the comics. i'm honestly surprised there seems to be so much hullaballoo about the pacing/general shock at what the latest episode covered. bc from what i've read the tv show has covered all the other plot points up to that issue so it seems like a standard next step to me

[willowfey]

what do u do on days u wake up feeling empty and the only things that stir smth up in ur brain and body are memories of times/places that are long gone…. like what am i supposed to do with that….. i don’t feel like a person today i just wanna wake up in my childhood bedroom and smell the way it smelled in winter but i can’t do that so i just go through my day feeling vaguely nauseously unsettled and untethered…. and that doesn’t feel fair but i don’t know what can be done about it

[undertheorangetree]

Pomegranate Seeds

Summary- A retelling of the abduction of Persephone.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Hades and Persephone AU. Star-crossed lovers vibes. Uncle/niece incest. Making out. Angst. Fluff. Titty sucking. Handjob. Cunnilingus. Vaginal fingering. Soft smut. Mild praise kink. Mildly OOC Aemond.

Author's Notes- Yeah I was a Percy Jackson/Greek mythology kid, thank you for noticing. I'm still playing incredibly fast and loose with the mythology tho so we're gonna have to make our peace with that. This is a beast btw, it's like 9.6K and you can find the rest on AO3 with the link below :)

divider created by @firefly-graphics

It is moments like these, she thinks, that she loves most.

Alone in the meadow, surrounded by wildflowers, the babbling of the creek as it flows over the rocks. Everything green with the exception of the purple, white, and yellow flowerheads but lush and everbearing and alive, the sun little more than a hazy warm glow, not yet hot enough to be overbearing. It is peaceful here, so much more than she is used to. She had come to an agreement with her step sisters, Baela and Rhaena, that they allow her a few hours on her own in this meadow, undisturbed by anyone else. Though her mother much preferred to that she remain alongside her sisters whenever she is out of sight, she, Baela, and Rhaena had come to an agreement that what her mother didn’t know couldn’t hurt her. And besides, they were never too far away from her. Being water nymphs, they could be by her side in less than a moment if she really needed them, so long as she doe does not stray too far from the river. And she has never been more grateful for it than she is right now.

Stretching her arms high above her head, she stretches out along the grass, enjoying the feeling of every blade of grass, the sweet smell of the blooms wafting on the breeze. Admittedly, this meadow had not been quite so plentiful when they had found it, following along the winding river, but she is the goddess of spring. Flowers bloom at her word and sun shines with her will. It had not been too difficult to turn this meadow into her own personal paradise, away from the chaos often wrought by her mother and brothers and stepfather.

There is a sudden change in the wind that causes her to sit up. Colder than it had been before, something more akin to winter than spring. The ground seems to rumble beneath her, shaking as if the sudden cold has sent it to shiver. Curiously, she turns her head toward the tree line, where the birches and willows keep the meadow shielded from view, only to find a man standing among them. Dressed in all black- breeches, cloak, and the shred of his tunic she can see beneath it- his platinum hair is almost jarring in contrast. He is not a big man, long and lithe, but there is an air to him that feels dangerous, dangerous enough to give her pause. He has not noticed her yet, face turned away, but she can see the long, stern plains of his face from where she sits, looking incredibly serious. That seriousness is only exacerbated by the dark leather eyepatch covering the eye closest to her, a deep red scar carved beneath it.

She does not think she has ever seen anyone here before, not outside of Baela, Rhaena, and herself, and his presence here is almost incongruous. Still, there is an air about him, one that makes it clear that he is a god just as she is, and that alone should make his surprise appearance less shocking.

“Hello.”

The sound of her voice seems to catch him off guard. Quickly, he turns toward her, shoulders tense, but they relax when he takes her in. She cannot imagine that she is intimidating, sitting flat in the grass all alone. “Hello.”

But it is that reminder of the grass that brings her pause. What is this man doing here? Where had he come from? It is not as if this meadow is easy to find, hidden amongst the trees as it is. She feels her brows furrow, head cocking in question. “How did you find this place?”

She had not put a glamour over this meadow, but she did not feel she had too. The forest, though light and airy, was a labyrinth of trees that seemed deterrent enough to keep any unwanted guests away. They were incredibly difficult to find your way through and she had been convinced it would be impossible to try- for God or mortal.

Near impossible, it seemed then.

His eye darts back to the treeline, taking half a step back. “If I am intruding, I can leave.”

“No.” She says it far too quickly and she can see the way his eyebrows raise in response to it, but she can’t find it in her to be ashamed. She is intrigued by this man, more so than she likely should be, and finds she wants to know more. To learn how he came to find this place. “Just because this place is unknown does not mean it is mine alone. You may stay. Beauty like this should be enjoyed.”

“Wise words,” he agrees, coming toward her. He hesitates at the end, torn on whether or not to truly join her, but it seems courtesy wins out as he lowers himself to the ground, joining her amongst the flowers. He looks entirely out of place, black against the blooms, but she says nothing, keeping her observation to herself.

They sit in absolute silence but she does not mind. He sits stiffly, as if uncomfortable, while she continues to take in all that is around her. From here, she can see the way the willows sway with the wind, the white puffy clouds floating by in the soft blue sky.

“I did not mean to,” he says. She looks at him, head tilted once again. “To find this place. It was not my intention. Though I admit I have never seen anything quite like it.”

She smiles, though he could not possibly know that he had complimented her. “It is a rare thing.”

“It feels almost as if it were from a painting,” he adds, looking around the meadow to take it in further.

She joins him in it, finding no shame in admiring her own work. It is a pretty place, though that had always been her intention. Olympus was beautiful in and of itself, but it was stark in that way. Ethereal and otherworldly, but cosmopolitan. Bright white marble, painted statues, stained glass. Everything beautiful, to be sure, but not in the untamed way that she seemed to crave. She preferred the beauty that was found in nature, in heavy branches filled with green leaves, tall grasses and wildflowers and crystalline waters.

“Do you know much about art?” she asks to fill the silence.

He seems caught off guard again from her question, but answers it anyway. “Not as much as I would like, but I can appreciate the beauty in something as well as any man. Though do not tell anyone. It would ruin my reputation.”

She laughs. “You needn’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. Which periods do you prefer?”

They talk for hours, the conversation unfurling as naturally as a bird’s wing. Art, history, philosophy. There is no subject they do not indulge in. He becomes less awkward with time as he grows more comfortable around her and she almost pulls a laugh from him not once, but twice. It seems quite the feat, for a man as serious as this one seems to be, though she does not let her pride get the better of her. When she asks him how she managed to find her well kept secret, he had simply said that one always finds the best things when you are not looking for them. A non answer, but that was alright. She was sure she could coax the answer from him eventually.

“Forgive me, I never asked you your name,” she says after what must have been hours, half appalled by her lack of manners.

He does not seem to mind, a good natured half smile making its way onto his face. “My friends call me Aemond. You may as well.”

It is not uncommon, for Gods to prefer more earthly names. She is often the same. There is power within a name and for such an innocent encounter, she does not feel the need to have him call her Persephone or Kore or any of those that strike some rumination of power and fear. So she gives him her common name, the one she feels is more true to who she is, and he smiles in response to it, repeating it back to her as if to test it. She likes the way it sounds when he says it, the way each letter seems to roll off him tongue, and somehow hearing him say the word alone is enough to make her flush.

She turns her head to hide it and only then notices that the sun has dipped below the trees, leaving the sky a hazy orange. Her mother will be expecting her home soon and there is no telling how poorly she will react if Rhaena and Baela return home without her. She doesn’t doubt that Rhaenyra will send her great serpent Syrax after her should she be even a moment late.

“I have to go,” she says, unable to keep the apologetic tone from her voice.

Reluctantly, she stands, brushing the dirt from her skirts. His lips had parted at her announcement, but now he ducks his head in an understanding nod. She smiles at him, not truly wanting to go yet, and makes her way toward the creek to call upon her sisters to come and fetch her. She does not make it two steps before he is calling after her.

“Can I see you again?”

She turns back to look at him. The insecurity on his face does not seem to match his features, looking almost out of place there. Still, she finds it entirely endearing and she realizes that she would absolutely like to see him again.

“Yes,” she agrees softly.

“Tomorrow?”

She does not bother to fight the smile itching its way onto her face. “Yes.”

He matches her smile then before standing. He comes forward and takes her hand, bringing her knuckles to his lips and placing a chaste kiss there. “Then I shall see you on the morrow, my lady.”

She can do nothing but hope he does not notice how hot her face has become.

“On the morrow.”

Read the rest here

[zuzusexytiems]

so I know we're all talking about the hand-holding scene, but here are a few of my favorite underrated huntlow moments from this episode. 🥹

1. the way hunter was so tense, but immediately softens upon seeing willow playing with the flowers.

 —

2. the way willow couldn't take her eyes off of hunter, because she could feel just how distressed and over the edge he was.

—

3. the way hunter is quick to catch on to willow's emotions: he knows she's worried about her dads, and he knows she’ll try to do something about it, even at the cost of her own safety.

the way hunter acts fast to protect her, almost instinctively.

—

4. this.

—

5. the way and the timing of willow's vines subtly creeping up towards hunter, just as he was looking for her, and just as he was about to lose hope.

—

6. the way that they are literally in almost every single frame together, from close-ups to group shots to even those tiny, far-away, low-res pixels. 

—

7.  the way this was such a heavy episode, but they still get to be absolute dorks together.

—

8.  the way it genuinely upset hunter to know that willow park thought of herself as anything less than the amazing person she already is.

the way that intense drive to protect someone he loved was enough to trigger a new kind of power in him.

—

9.  the way hunter finally allows himself to be vulnerable in front of her—in a way that he never has with anyone else.

—

10.  the way that—after all this time—it's willow park that finally, *finally* blushes for hunter.

—

11.  the way that he didn't let go...

12. ...and the way that neither of them wanted to.

everything about this episode. everything.

[midnightmoonytales]

𝔽𝕦𝕟 𝕓𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕃𝕒𝕜𝕖 | ℙ𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕟𝕚𝕔 𝕊𝕝𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟 𝔾𝕒𝕟𝕘 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

A/n: Pls bc writing for the Slytherin gang has itched a piece of my brain I didn't even know needed to be scratched. I'm addicted to it - headcanon and drabbles and all. (also omg another post - who am I)

No mentions of Gender :) Unedited

Summary: It's a hot day on Saturday in April; nowhere you go can you run from the heat. The only solution is a fun day at the lake with your friends.

<><><>

Almost everybody was inside today, minus a few stragglers who decided to either practice Quidditch or hang out by the lake. The heat made everything sticky, hot, and uncomfortable. Unfortunately, those who even resided inside were at the mercy of the April heat.

"It's bloody hot; why did we choose to come out here instead of the comfort of our freezing common room?" Pansy asked, fanning herself off with the Christmas fan her mother gifted her. The shade of the large willow tree provides you small bits of comfort from the blaring April sun.

Mattheo and Theodore could be found near the edge of the lake, rough-housing with each other, sweat glistening off their skin. A few feet to the right, Draco skips rocks across the lake in hopes of getting the Kraken to respond. Blaise was resting higher up in between the branches of the tree, enjoying a book he stole from the common room before you lot left. Taking your eyes off the boys and to a distraught Pansy.

"Would you rather be stuck elbow-to-elbow with some sleazy first-years?" You grumbled, grimacing at the thought of being stuck with a bunch of sweaty children in a compacted room. "Didn't think so!" You barked, the distraught look on Pansy's face as she imagined herself stuck in a horrid situation such as that, filling you with joy.

"Oi, Ferrett boy!" Mattheo shouted, taking everyone's attention away from what they were doin'. "Kraken ain't gonna waste its precious time skippin' some rocks." As if the Kraken heard him, a tentacle shot out of the water, catching a rock that Draco tossed, only to fling it straight at Mattheo's head, hitting him square smack in the middle of the forehead.

There was a moment of silence before everyone, except Mattheo, busted out laughing. Mattheo was leaning over, grabbing his forehead, which only made everyone else laugh harder. "That's what you get, you damn git; leave the boy alone," You hollered, holding your stomach as you leaned onto Pansy laughing.

"Why you!" Mattheo growled, running fast towards you, the look of a killer present on his face. (this is a skin of a killer Bella) A mediocre scream left your mouth as you bolted up, rushing away from Mattheo. You'd be damned if he caught you - Unfortunately for you, he did.

"Let me down, you oaf," You yelled, hitting his back as he rushed towards the lake. You had no intention of getting wet today. You were met with a rush of cold water, a yelp admitting from your lips as your body hit the water. Unluckily for Mattheo, you latched onto him, bringing him into the chilling water with you. "If I'm going down, you're going down with me," you said, tackling him as he trashed out of the water.

Maybe you all would have to come to the Lake more often.

<><><>

@ghostofscarley @devilishwitchfantasies

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

S/O throws a slice of cheese onto Skeletons face.

Undertale Sans - He stays perfectly still and doesn't move. When you pass by the couch a few hours later, he's still there, with the cheese slice on his face, lifeless. That's his new life now.

Undertale Papyrus - He shrieks in shock before taking the slice out of his face. What the hell? This is disgusting. He needs to wash his face now because the smell is horrible. He doesn't even like cheese! It's in these small moments that Papyrus' autistic side really shows lol. He hates feeling sticky things on his bones and he's going to be grumpy all day long because you broke his routine by wasting his time as he has to clean again lol.

Underswap Sans - He panics as he's suddenly blind and throws the cheese back to you, smacking your face so hard with it that you fell on your butt. Don't do that! You scared the crap out of him. Give him a warning next time!

Underswap Papyrus - He ducks instinctively. The cheese ends on the top of his skull. He thinks it's funny though and refuses to take it off as it was always his dream to have hair. Now you have a problem because he will definitely keep it for a few days and the smell will soon be terrible.

Underfell Sans - He hisses, before rolling on the floor like a wild animal to claw and fight the maleficient cheese on his face, thinking it's actually way bigger than it is. Well, he's not overreacting at all! When he realizes nothing is actually killing him, he's so mad he refuses to talk to you until the next day. Worth it though.

Underfell Papyrus - He's annoyed but gets over it quickly to go back to his cooking. He can believe how immature you are sometimes. Thank god, he's here to show you how to put cheese in the lasagna because how would you survive without his brilliant mind. You smack another cheese behind his head to make it shut up. Oh, that's on. Edge turns around and starts to attack you with cheese as well.

Horrortale Sans - He instinctively catches the cheese with his mouth. He's really happy about the snack and starts purring more loudly. Welp, that's not what you expected to happen, but at least he's happy.

Horrortale Papyrus - You miss the head because he's so tall. The cheese slid right between his ribs and ends on his soul. Now Willow is screaming and twitching to get it off, very uncomfortable. You decide to retreat as fast as you can before he has a chance to lecture you to death. Sadly, he catches your movement and stops you with blue magic. Oh no you don't dare to leave. Good luck with that.

Swapfell Sans - He's not amused. He gives you THE stare. The one insulting silently your intelligence and judging you so hard you might feel ashamed eventually. He never says a word. His stare is enough to make you leave the room.

Swapfell Papyrus - Ah, ah. Congratulations, you got him. He's defeated... not. The next day, you wake up with your hair full of cheese slices to the point it's going to take a few hours to clean... Play with the prank master and find out.

Fellswap Gold Sans - Wine is a bit of a maniac on the edges so he reacted to this filthy thing like you expected him to do: dramatically. Like this, basically:

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - CHEESE! Coffee loves cheese! Sure, the way to give him the cheese is weird but quickly forgotten because he can eat cheese and he's so happy about it!

[tohisprettyc00l]

hii can I request hunter x witch!reader where the reader catches human cold like when luz catched Demon Realm mold(?) and hunter takes care of them^^

ty♡

A/n: I have a cold while writing this-

Luz had asked you to go to the human realm for a bit. And you said yes without hesitation. But she had warned you of how cold it was. No matter. You brought a heavy jacket before going. You also grabbed a hat to cover your ears.

But once you got there the hat served more of a purpose than covering your ears. Well, it did cover your ears, but now from the cold and not just from others' eyes. A thin layer of snow covered the ground. The cold air bit at your nose and ankles, causing you to run to Luz's house,

When you finally got there you didn't bother to knock and just ran in. "Y/n there you are!" You heard Luz say, "You were the last one here and we were worried!" We? You looked around to see Amity, Gus, Willow, and Hunter. The gangs all here.

"I'm sorry if I had known that you were worried I would have come faster." That was a lie. You were going as fast as you could but your ankles felt numb. "It's fine just sit down. I'll get you a blanket." You nodded and sat down by where Hunter was sitting.

Despite Luz getting you a blanket you decided to cuddle into him to gain some warmth. Also because it was nice to just cuddle with him sometimes. "Holy- Are you okay!?" Hunter said once your skin made full contact with him

"Yeah, I'm just really cold-" Suddenly a blanket was thrown on you and him. You let out a pleased hum. A smile spread across your face. The rest of the night went relatively fine. But right before you left Luz asked if all of you wanted a sleepover, which everyone agreed to.

You fell asleep relatively quickly. Feeling pretty comfy. Once you woke up however your nose was super stuffed and your throat hurt. You coughed which irritated your throat more. You groaned and you suddenly heard a voice.

"Oh, you're up!" Luz said from behind you, "What's wrong?" "I have a stuffy nose and my throat really hurts." You cringed at the sound of your voice. Luz thought for a moment. "You probably caught a cold nothing serious... hopefully." "What do you mean hopefully!?" You accidentally yelled

She shushed you, gesturing to the others. "It's called the common cold, but I'm not sure how it witches." She walked closer to you, "It's kinda like the common mold back on the Isles. Excluding the mushrooms... And the deliriousness. Okay, there's nothing that similar besides the name, but if I was able to survive a demon realm sickness, you should be able to survive a human realm sickness."

"I'm just going to go home can you tell the others." She nodded. You got up, put on your hat and jacket, and went to the door. Just as your hand reached the handle you turned around. "What's the likelihood of someone seeing me teleport to the portal?" You asked Luz. "Not likely, nobody besides us really goes there."

You waved and wrapped yourself in abomination goop. But when you teleported you didn't arrive in front of the portal. Instead, you arrived almost falling into into the water. You backed up and groaned slightly. The teleport took more out of you than you anticipated.

You slugged your way towards your house. Despite this being normal for humans it was taking a toll on your body. You eventually got to your house and immediately flopped on your couch. You were on your right side and snot clogged your right nostril. You cringed and closed your body into itself. Even though you woke up a few moments earlier you slowly fell back asleep.

You woke back up to a fluffy blanket placed on you. Out of panic of suddenly having a blanket on you, you threw it off of you. Suddenly you saw your boyfriend's face by you. "Are you okay?" He asked concern lacing his voice. "Are you the one who placed the blanket on me?" He nodded. "Okay sorry, I just panicked. "It's fine you don't need to apologize."

You sniffled. "Do you have a tissue?" "One sconed." He left and then came back with a tissue. You blow your nose. "Ugh." You said looking at the wet tissue. You went over to a nearby trash can and almost fell over after a few steps. The only reason you didn't is that Hunter caught you. He picked you up and placed you down on your bed.

"Can you make soup?" You asked. Hunter inhaled through his teeth. "You know I'm not the best at cooking." "I don't care I just need something warm." Hunter nodded then leaned down and kissed you. You swatted him away. "Please don't. I don't want to make you sick." Hunter let out I light chuckle. "It would be worth it to make you feel loved." He said with pride. You grumble. He smiled sweetly, "I'll make sure you're better in no time! Trust me."

[icyhottodo]

SALTY COOKIES ˚₊✩‧₊

contains: 1k words, fluff, f2l, gn reader is a sorcerer as well but its mentioned once, kissing, yuji, nobara & gojo are menaces, maybe ooc? i tried T-T

summary: megumi has a certain soft spot for you. but maybe not the salted cookies you gave him.

prompt: "Are you mad at me?" "Why would I be mad at you?"

nini’s notes: i was scavenging through the depths of the internet to find inspiration and found one and RAN with it. this was supposed to be a kbg work but i miss gumi.

megumi gets angry at anyone on a regular basis. one thing your fellow friends noticed is that megumi would never get furious at you specifically.

"you’re lying, nobara," you say in disbelief.

"i swear y/n. it's like megumi never gets mad at you. he yells at us, but when he turns to you, he goes all heart eyes. look!" nobara dramatically exclaims to you before waltzing towards megumi. who was on the other side of the classroom, listening to yuji and gojo talk to each other.

nobara creeps up to megumi until she reaches just behind him and pops up from his back. "boo!"

"what the fuck, nobara- oh. hey y/n." megumi’s outburst was suddenly stopped when he turned around and saw you. (along with nobara hiding behind you as a meat shield. but megumi decided to ignore the short-haired girl and focus on you instead.)

megumi scooted his chair closer to you and leaned on an empty desk. placing his head on top of his hand with a small smile on his face. he greets you hesitantly, "hey y/n."

ever since nobara mentioned the truth about megumi acting around you, you could see how much nicer he acts around you.

"hey, i got you your favorite food." megumi offered, turning his head away from you to act uninterested. his eye catches a sparkly-eyed nobara, yuji, and gojo with their hands made into a ball.

"fushiguro! where's our foooood!?" yuji whines, shaking megumi’s body, with the other two frantically nodding their heads yes.

"you three can get your food." megumi rolls his eyes before walking away from their pestering.

you were finally sure that megumi has a soft spot when your peers decided to play a playful prank on the stoic man. they had baked some chocolate chip cookies, but the twist was that they intentionally substituted the sugar for salt instead. they walked up to you with a platter full of those salty cookies, asking you if you would want to hand those cookies to megumi.

"now, you don’t have to give these to fushiguro if you don’t wanna." yuji smiled anxiously, waiting for your reaction.

with the cookies being shoved into your face, you considered acting along with them or not. while the prank is harmless, you still felt slightly bad about tricking the guy. on the other hand, with this prank, you could tell for sure that megumi acted differently around you, perhaps even liking you. this outweighed your cons. plus if this went wrong, you could say yuji, gojo, and nobara told you to do so.

"alright, i will do it," you said as you smiled and took the platter of cookies. 

you found megumi training with maki in the courtyard. megumi saw you in the corner of his eye, and you gestured for him to come to you for a minute. because of this, megumi became distracted from his sparring, causing him to get whacked with a stick by maki.

"ouch. okay, you win this time; spar with the panda. i’ll take a break." megumi says, already jogging to where he saw you walk behind a huge willow tree. megumi left so fast that maki hasn't even gotten the chance to reply yet.

panda says, "fushiguro liked y/n, huh?"

"salmon."

"here," you said, showing off the plate. "i made some cookies for you to try."

"what's this for?" megumi asks, cautiously taking a cookie from you. you weren’t the one who usually bakes or gives anything out of the blue.

"i was just trying out new hobbies. i want to see if i am any good at it." you lied on the fly, without thinking. maybe you should take acting as a side job instead of being a sorcerer.

with your explanation, megumi takes a bite out of the cookie and immediately grimaces. megumi slowly chews on the piece of cookie before swallowing it down his throat harshly. you can notice his adam’s apple bobbing up and down when he has entirely consumed the sweet.

"i’ll be frank with you. it's salty, did you maybe switch out the sugar for salt by accident?"

after hearing this comment, yuji and nobara jump from who knows where much to megumi’s surprise. gojo sticks his tongue out and says, "it was a joke, bleh. we baked that and told y/n to give it to you."

you could see the cartoon-like cross-popping veins appearing on the corner of megumi’s forehead. megumi was ready to scold them, but before megumi could yell at them, yuji had pushed his other two friends, gojo and nobara, away, taking the plate of cookies from you in the midst of it. leaving the two of you in silence, which made you feel awkward.

is megumi mad at you? maybe you shouldn't have said yes to your friends. you asked shyly, looking at the floor away from the black-haired man. "are you… mad at me?"

a few seconds of silence passed by, making you more anxious by the second. the silence was broken when you heard footsteps came closer to you, megumi’s shoes appeared in your eyesight. you felt a rough hand touch your face, his thumb finger touching below your lips while the rest of his hand was tucked under your chin.

megumi gently pulls your head up to meet his gorgeous blue eyes with an adoring smile on his face. megumi was mere centimeters away from you. "and why would i be mad at you?"

well, that was a surprise. megumi eyes wander down onto your lips, making butterflies erupt wildly in your stomach. his eyes went back to your eyes. "can i… kiss you?"

megumi’s voice was so tender yet still had tones of uncertainty. you smiled, nodding your head at his question. megumi gave you a simple, fleeting peck, but it had you wanting more. you smiled at him when megumi pulled away, but you took him by the collar and passionately kissed him.

"i… i really like you, y/n," megumi said breathlessly.

"i like you too."

[writers-potion]

Do you have any tips on how to name a story/book? Bc I’m really struggling to come up with something good

Book Title Ideas!!

Fantasy Book Titles

"The Chronicles of Eldoria"

"Realm of the Shadow King"

"Echoes of the Lost Kingdom"

"The Crystal Throne"

"Legends of the Eternal Dragon"

"The Hitman's Apprentice"

"Sorcery of the Silver Moon"

"Beyond the Enchanted Forest"

"Tales of the Arcane Isles"

"The Last Guardian of Light"

"Crown of the Winter Realm"

"The Fireborn Chronicles"

"Winds of the Wandering Mage"

"Secrets of the Starlit Citadel"

"The Frost Queen's Curse"

"Whispers from the Ancient Tome"

"Sword of the Celestial Knight"

"The Phoenix's Prophecy"

"Echoes of Eternity"

"The Shadow's Embrace"

Romance Book Titles

"Swiping Right"

"Romantic Vibes Only"

"Coffee Shop Confessions"

"The Social Media Sweetheart"

"Chasing Sunsets"

"Love Notes and Lattes"

"Lost in Translation"

"The Dating App Dilemma"

"Love in the Fast Lane"

"City Lights and Romance"

"Instant Chemistry"

"The Modern Love Story"

"Love in the Clouds"

"Swipe Left for Heartache"

"Heartstrings and Harmony"

Mystery Novel Titles

"The Enigma of Midnight Manor"

"Murder on the Moors"

"Whispers in the Shadows"

"The Secret of Willow Creek"

"Death at Darkwater Bay"

"The Puzzle of the Poisoned Pen"

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"The Mystery of Moonstone Manor"

"Murder in the Misty Woods"

"The Case of the Crimson Cipher"

"The Secret of Sapphire Springs"

"The Silent Suspect"

"Echoes of the Old Mill"

"A Lethal Legacy"

"The Mystery of Midnight Hollow"

"Murder Among the Magnolias"

"The Cryptic Conundrum"

"The Haunting of Hawthorn House"

"Deadly Deception in Dahlia Valley"

YA Novel Titles

"The Echoes Between Us"

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"Catching Shadows"

"Threads of Serendipity"

"Bloom and Blossom"

"Growing Pains and Paper Planes"

"Dandelions in the Wind"

"Whispers in the Quiet Hours"

"Crossroads of Everlasting Echoes"

"Forgotten Names"

"The Color of Tomorrow"

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"The Art of Glowing Up"

Paranormal Book Titles

"Mystic Bonds"

"Wolfblood Chronicles"

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"Soulbound Serenade"

"Nightfall Destiny"

"Nightshade Kisses"

"The Crimson Courtship"

"Bloodbound: A Tale of Moonlit Passion"

"Witchcraft and Whispers"

"Enchantress' Embrace"

"Heartbeat Hex"

"Welcome to the Coven of Desire"

"A Moonlit Affair"

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[halcyone-of-the-sea]

DEVIL BIRDS (VII)

|| COV MASTERLIST || NEXT: CHAPTER VIII ||

PAIRING: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Reader.

WORDCOUNT: 5.3k

WARNINGS: Various crimes & illegal activity, paranoia, angst, mentions of death, trauma, inner turmoil, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You supposed that grabbing a hat would have saved you from having to worry about being seen, but you’d been too caught up in trying to sneak out as quickly as possible. Jacket flapping, your legs move fast over the open field of your estate, sprinting through the garden beds and past the thick copse with its willow trees and pond. The pathways were overgrown and you nearly trip over upturned pieces of rock. 

But you can’t stop giggling.

Your face pulls in a fast smile, eyes alight with eagerness. You feel like you have a purpose for the first time in years.

“Alright,” you whisper under your breath as you chart your course to the town. Maybe you could even catch Hector closing up and snag a coffee off of him. “Museum. Dad’s old office.” 

At your steady pace, you enter the beginnings of the businesses as the streetlights slip over you like water, bathing you in the glow as your breath puffs out. The air was cold, and you keep your jacket tight to your form as your shoes travel forward, slowing.

In your pocket, you twiddle your coin and wonder if you should have snooped in Gaz’s things for your penknife, lips thinning at the idea.

You were stubborn, but not stupid; you knew this wasn’t a good idea. 

But…it’s too late for that now. 

Shadows grew long as your eyes darted to open alleyways to the dull wind, glee dimming the longer you walk alone. After a moment you peek behind your form and nearly forget that Kyle wasn’t there with a flinch in your step. 

Have you really…grown used to having him follow you around? 

Why did it feel so threatening when he wasn’t there?

Your body tenses as a bottle across the street falls from the sidewalk to the asphalt with a clattering ping, rolling in the way that glass does as you watch. Clearing your throat, you continue on as your heart spreads blood throughout your veins. 

“Keep it together, you’re fine,” you hiss to yourself, not liking this new way of thinking. Sure you were considered a recluse—didn’t enjoy being out more than you had to in loud places—but…hell. You can’t start relying on Gaz for comfort. 

But he saved you. Your mind slashes to the shooting in the park and you sigh as you get closer to Hec’s shop.

Kyle had been kind to you, he gave pieces of himself like leaves from a tree to try and make you soften to him. The watch and the story, the stitches that still live in your hand. Soft words. Your gut bunches in your abdomen. 

You weren’t one to push past hurts—you lived with them, carried them like a parcel of goods at a picnic. The gun, the kidnapping, the…darkness of it all. If the Sergeant was capable of all of that, well, you weren’t sure it was in your best interests to allow him to carve a piece of your soul out with his bright smiles and amused smirks.

Soon the rest of the One-Four-One would be done with their missions overseas hunting down Yaromir Osipov and Mala Kham and it would all be over. You could go back to living in your mansion, alone, with the lack of lights and the sub-par meals. The ghosts. The covered furniture and the dead memories. You press the coin deeply into your palm.

…Why didn’t you like that thought?

Hector’s place came up as you stew in your confusion, seeing the low lights spilling out over the empty streets. You hum before pushing open the door, hearing the call from the back kitchen.

“One minute!” That Jersey accent is the same as it always is. Your body takes you to the counter, shuffling out your wallet and tossing bills to the wood before sneaking a ten into the tip jar. Everything for a moment slips away until only coffee and baked goods remain. “Christ, you folks don’t sleep, do ya?” 

Hector comes out from the back, pausing before locking onto your blank face. 

“Holy shit!”’ He laughs brightly. “Hey there, Kid! It’s been a bit, how’s it all going? I’ll admit I got a little worried when you stopped showing up.”

“School’s been tough,” you lie easily, shifting a smile to your lips. The man gets going on your drink immediately as you explain. “Thought I’d go on a walk and stop by. I’m heading into the city.” 

Hector stills momentarily, fingers twitching as he pours your drink into a cup. His throat hums out slowly, “The city? Ain’t it too late for all of that? What’re you going there for?”

“Just,” you pick up your addiction and let the warmth seep into you. What was the harm in telling him, after all? Hector was the closest thing to a friend you could have right now. “Wanna head by the museum. Feeling sentimental, I guess.” 

You almost hated how easy it was to lie to everyone.

“Ah,” the man nods and you stare at his neck before blinking at the sound of the phone ringing. “Shit,” Hector darts, and you had seen his heart dashing in his breast. “That’s me, Kid. Gotta take this.” 

He slips a hand into his pocket and disappears back from where he came from.

“See you,” but Hector’s already gone and you sigh out, “...later.”

You turn on your heels and leave, something akin to confusion in your chest. Strange, not even a goodbye. If Hector was one thing, it was usually casual.

“Whatever.” 

The train ride is silent as you sit in the back, stiff in your seat and not enjoying the eerie silence at all; sipping on your drink. Every time you look across to the emptiness you’re stuck with a great bout of unease but every time tell yourself that this was the only way to get answers. Your father’s office had to have answers, even as small as a single word. 

There just…needed to be something. There had to be.

When you step off into the station and lightly jog away, you pep yourself up with this thought as you drop your empty cup into the trash.

If you find information about your dad and his dealings, maybe Kyle won’t go absolutely ballistic if he finds out you left. You almost cringe at the thought of his tight jaw and clipped words; his silent broodiness wasn’t in your control. That was what terrified you. 

Like a cat you slinked along the streets, recalling the route you took so often when you were younger—the bookstore across the road, the Irish bar you’d have to pass as you slide left. Skyscrapers and planted trees, fast cars with their lights on. It was all familiar, and in that fact, you took the smallest comfort. 

Despite it all, there were still remnants of a time long passed. There were still pieces, and the museum was the biggest piece of them all.

Your eyes dig into the dark and blackened building with its white pillars; two sets of stairs leading up and up. It’s wider than it is tall and set apart from all other buildings or stores like a sentinel of history. The parking lot is bare besides a handful of cars far out into the open area of plotted greenery, and your vision seeps like water from one place to another. Your father’s old workplace is large and imposing—a giant of cream stones. 

After a minute or two of hesitation, you take the long walk around the museum to the back across its nine acres, climbing up a chain-link fence. 

Now was really when the anxiety snuck in. 

Fingers shaking, you know there are exactly five night guards on duty; had even met a few before the accident. The problem was getting in with the front door locked and sneaking into the employee-only section. Obviously, this amounted to breaking and entering except for the simple fact that…

“Shit,” you let the rare curse growl out of you, staring at the steady blinking light inside of one of the many back windows. 

Cameras. 

When had they added those in this section? Your mind jumps from one thought to the next, straining. 

“Okay, okay,” you calm yourself and rub your neck. “Think.” Blinking, your gaze slows itself on the maintenance ladder leading to the roof, eyes slowly widening. Perhaps with all of these horrendous ideas you’re cooking up like five-star meals, you might end up killing yourself before anyone else can. “Save everyone else the trouble, at least,” you grumble under your breath.

Your foot hits the first rung when you slowly stride over and you take a breath, hands sweaty as they quiver before you grab the metal. At the side, the bright sign burns into your retinas like looking directly into the sun. It was embarrassing, really. 

“NO TRESPASSING: VIOLATORS WILL BE PROSECUTED.” Red and white mock you in their color scheme. 

“Kyle is going to lock me in the storage closet,” your mouth mutters, but you only shake your head and push upward with the thought process of everything you’d done so far wasn’t worth giving up on. 

Surprisingly, you had less reservations about all of this illegal activity than you rightly should have—a sort of distance from it. As if everything was being seen through the lens of a photographer spreading linen over his equipment before snapping that picture. Already in your head, you were counting the charges that could be levied against you with a blank face. 

Trespassing. 

Your hands and feet take you higher, the steady creak of your weight on the old metal.

Breaking and entering. 

Breath puffing out, you get to the top after a tall vertical climb, pulling yourself over the edge and slapping to the roof of the left side of the museum. Flat concrete holds the bodies of roof ventilation turbines, AC units, and electrical equipment all shades of gray and sun-bleached yellow. Flopping on your belly, you scoot forward until you’re able to shove with your arms up from the roof. 

“...Burglary,” you huff out, frowning. But was it really stealing if it belonged to your dad?

Kyle’s crossed arms and his tight lips slash through your head like the pissed-off angel on your shoulder. 

“Shut up,” you growl out to his image, stalking forward to figure out your next plan of action. “If I wanted your opinion I would have asked.”

After a minute or two of snooping, your only option came in the form of a ventilation shaft jutting out of the museum; a monster of silver metal and roaming sections like a large snake. You blink at it and play with the coin in your pocket, tapping a foot. 

The problem was the grate. 

Twiddling your fingers in your pockets, you bite at your lip and furrow your brows, knowing how much time you’d already lost. At most, you could stay here maybe twenty minutes before you had to rush back to the mansion. 

Is that enough time? After all, you didn’t even know what you were looking for. 

Taking out your coin, you roll it over your knuckles while glaring at the grate—eyes burning into the small ‘+’ of the Combination Head screws set into the four, shining, corners. Above, the moon was letting your shadow lay long over the roof. 

Halting your fiddling, you get the spark of an idea while you catch your coin, the things blue and bronze color subdued in the darkness. Looking down at it in your bandaged palm—dried blood stuck in the old gauze—you run a thumb over the engravings and slowly look back to the screws. 

“Maybe,” your voice whispers out. Flipping the metal object, you walk and slot the side of your precious coin into the head of the top right screw, jimmying it in with a growing smirk as it sits in a straight line. 

Jiggling it, the small fastening of the grate squeaks before its body gets slowly twisted to the side by your tight-knuckled grip, skin thin as it struggles to turn. A small noise of victory leaves you when the rust under the bond flakes off, the screw now quickly moving outward for you. 

You didn’t want to blow your own horn quite yet, but this was going smoother than you could have hoped for. 

When all remaining screws were on the roof and your coin was back in your pocket, you were staring at the gaping wound that is the entrance to the ventilation shaft. For the first time in the night, you wondered about the consequences of acting like this. Your father had preached honestly when he was alive—telling you that the best thing a person could be was true. 

The phone in your pocket was like a brick as your heart stampeded. 

“C’mon.” He speaks blankly, whatever sly teasing and amusement from earlier today completely gone. “Exfil point is a block away—we need to move.”

You can’t do much more than follow, your head screaming at you. 

“B-but what about…” Wanting to ask about the people who are back in the park, not quite understanding the horror yet. 

Sensing this, Kyle knows it’s better to respond briefly. 

“They’re dead.” You flinch at the truth, hearing the bitter reality settle in coupled with the man’s bluntness. 

Dead. Row, the others, your father. “But if I find the answers,” you try to steady yourself, leaning closer to the inky duct. “Maybe all of this can go away. No one else has to die. I have to…” You push forward, “I have to do this.”

Gaz’s words had touched you in the kitchen. His willingness to speak to you. No one else ever bothered. He’d be more than angry—furious with this, but how could you explain that this was so much more to you than a price on your head? You felt he already knew, truthfully, but you’d never been good at listening much less looking into his eyes to see if he’s being genuine. 

There was a piece of you that had wanted to glance up at him while you were against the island, just a swift peek. You’d shut it down just as quickly as it had come, but, still. 

The thought had been there.

Knees hitting the metal, you crawl far into the vent, enclosed on all sides except forward and backward. Not once did you think about how you’d get back out as you start taking the twists and turns of the chilled metal square, on a mission in your own right. Taking shallow breaths, you pull and slide your shoulders through, getting to the first dip and slipping down as your hands squeak. 

“Woah,” you hissed to nothing, your voice bouncing off and echoing back to your ears. “Christ.” 

Your form clanks along, trying to be as quiet as a mouse but only being successful if that mouse was being rapidly slammed against a wall. Along the way, you would have to make decisions about which way to go—right or left—and you would have to imagine yourself walking around the museum as if you were inside it. 

Paleontology down there, your head is bent to the left and you huff and feel sweat dribble down your forehead. I need to be near Botany. 

You take the right with a bit of worry set into your veins. What if you got lost in here? Would they find your body years later? You shiver and grimace. 

“Nothing will go wrong—!” Your voice cuts out as you plummet down a decline, face ricocheting off the metal with enough force to rattle your brain. You groan long and low in your throat as blood fills your nose. “...One thing can go wrong…” Your sleeve presses into your nostrils as you shuffle on slower and steadier. 

You were never making it back to your estate on time.

It’s fifteen minutes of bumbling and cursing, to your mother’s horror, before you turn to a thick grate at a dead end. Across your position, you’re able to make out a plaque on the far wall by straining your eyes through the darkness; you lock on the white letters of the self-designated ‘Authorized Personnel Only’ area. 

Your bloody lower face peels back in a breathless smile as you pant. 

Hands pressing into the ventilation grate, you prod with all of your strength and bite into your lip as you do; lungs tight with exertion. Just as you start to feel a small movement in the metal, whistling hits your ears. 

Immediately stopping, you hold your breath and lock your eyes on the slowly walking form of one of the security guards. A great frozen feeling overcomes your bones—nearly the same that had hit you when you’d been behind that garbage can with Gaz in the park. You stare wide-eyed and open-mouthed, heart in your ears. 

The guard was clothed in white and black, keys at his belt jangling and a flashlight in his hands as he spreads a tune. Large and bald, he paused across the way and turned his head in your direction. You tense and stifle a sharp inhale, ducking just the slightest bit back. 

But he doesn’t bother looking into the vent while he takes out a tissue from his pocket and proceeds to blow his nose as you watch, flinching at every loud snort. 

“Gah,” the guard rubs at his nose, “...gettin’ too old for this. Should be back at home already. Need to have Jerry give me that raise…” 

Tossing the used tissue into an adjacent trash can, the man moves on with a bend to his spine, showing his fatigue as his free hand rubs at the back of his neck. 

You put your fingers over your mouth, blinking incredulously as he turns a corner out of sight—whistles tune getting smaller and smaller.

“I’m going to have a heart attack,” you grunt, waiting a minute more before taking a deep breath and placing your shaking grip back into the grate. “Kyle, you should have tried to make me stay home harder.”

Your digging words hit no one, and you gasp as the vent cover pops off with a slide of metal. You snatch a hand to grab it, panicked, but the thing fully slips from your fingers as your heart gets stuck in your throat.

The sound when it hits the bench right under and then finally slams to the floor is enough to make you get bile in the back of your throat. 

It echoes over the museum like you had just chucked a glass bottle at a man’s head in the middle of High Mass—louder than a thunderclap. The silence that follows after is just as violent. 

It’s like you count the seconds as your hands extend from the dark square, face lacking blood and chin loose. 

Did that…what just…

When the quick, hard, footsteps start running back in your direction, you’re scrambling out of the vent faster than you can think about your limbs moving. Feet slipping and hands latching onto the edge of the opening with a thinning of your pupils as you shove yourself out. 

You land on the bench and clatter to the ground just like the vent but quickly recover against the roving pain on account of pure adrenaline. 

“Shit, shit, fuck!” Your mouth snarls, vulgar curses slipping out as you snatch the grate into your arms and push through the Authorized Personnel door with a loud shoulder shove. Darting to the side of the opened door, you slip behind it into the corner; mind running a mile-a-minute. Think!

Running would only make it worse, the guard would hear you and follow after. You look down at the metal in your hands as a shout rings just feet away—panting breath and the jingle-jangle of keys. 

“Who's out there?! Show yourself!” Your lips thin, thinking over those possible changes again and adding in another.

…Battery. 

When the guard walks through the door and takes a few steps in, wildly flashing his light back and forth, you slowly raise the vent grate in your hands. Taking a small, shaky breath, you tighten your grip and whack the man in the back of the head. 

He falls with a large thump, body hitting the ground as you stand above him with wide eyes and a guilty conscience, bones rattling in your flesh. 

“Jesus, I’m so sorry,” he’s groaning, stunned, as you swiftly place the grate on the wall and run back past him. “It’s nothing personal, really. I…you're going to be fine—a…a bruise, that’s it.” 

Dashing down the hallway, you leave him behind, but only after you steal his keys and begin to read each name tag on the walls, searching for the familiar title of your father at lightspeed.

Theft. 

“I’m such an idiot!” Quietly barking out, you take a left and skid to a stop finding the exact door you needed to get into—the one at the very end as well as the largest and most fancy looking. You could have easily picked the lock with a stray bobby pin and a stick from one of the fake plants outside in the hallway, but now with the keys…

You push through the hundreds on the chain, palms sweaty and breath not slowing down. You’re muttering to yourself in a frenzied state, feet trading weight.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, hurry up!” You find MD carved into the metal and stick the key into the door, twisting and hurrying through. Closing the door behind you loudly, you let your body pant as you hold it shut, palms to the grain; it’s a second before your forehead meets the barrier and you groan lowly. 

Rubbing at your scalp, you stand up straight and turn to the room. 

Except there is a suspicious lack of boxes along the carpeted floor.

“What!?” You yell, before you slap a hand to your mouth. “What?” Your lowered, repeated, question is strained and aggressive, but in reality, you should have expected this. It had been three years, after all. Maybe you had yet to realize the entire world hadn’t stopped just because yours had.

Jogging over to the computer, you slide the keyboard out from inside the desk and tap the spacebar to wake it up, growling to yourself. You knew they had kept your father’s things, but you didn’t know where they put them—you were supposed to have picked them up during the first year but…well, you know how that year went.

You grimace and shake your head, restraining yourself from touching your coin. 

If you could hack into the CIA database, this was a piece of cake; it took no more than a minute, already looking at the wallpaper of a woman named Lorena Bennett with her pet cockatoo on her shoulder. Immediately you head to the emails. 

“Okay, Bennett,” you say, “I need…” Typing in your father's name into the word search, you come upon one of the first emails from only a month after he’d died, eyes slipping from one word to another. “Here.”

Dear Mrs. Bennett,

Due to the unfortunate passing of our prior Museum Director, you’ll find the office assigned to you still filled with his belongings. If you would be willing, please pack up what few personal belongings he had and send them down to Eastern storage—his daughter will be here to pick them up at a later date. 

Thank you, and I wish you well on your first day, 

Member of the Board, Mr. Shaw 

“Eastern storage,” you huff, fingers twitching over the keys as you nod rapidly. “Alright, okay. I can do that.” You couldn’t do that. 

Sweating, you close out the email and power down the computer, putting it all back where it was. Was it wrong for you to want Kyle here with you? You could do with his steadfast patience at this point. Might even applaud him for putting up with you for this long if he could take point on this. 

For doing far more stressful things for a living, you were sure this was easy as cake for him. If anything that pushed you on. Leaving and locking the office, you carefully step over the unconscious guard and utter another apology, watching his back rise and fall with his lungs like a balloon. 

Sneaking through the halls, you pass displays and stay close to the walls, listening with strained ears as your breath seems to be the loudest thing in the museum. Rubbing at your sore nose, you make your way across multiple sections of the building, knowing every turn as if you’d lived here forever. 

“Now,” your father’s voice guides you along and you almost feel his hand on your shoulder as you slip behind a case full of ancient cat furs in the Mammalogy section. A second guard's flashlight slips above you and you crawl on the floor as she passes. “If you ever lose sight of me, I’ll head right to the place between Mammalogy and the Bone Hall. Just follow the arrows and I’ll be waiting for you, alright? I’ll always find you, Little Love.”  

You steady your breathing and slink around another display, heart constricted at the sudden need to hear your father’s voice again. You’d forgotten it after all of this time—the way he would reassure you was only a series of words without flow; a knowledge of the memory but mixed with the desperation to truly feel it. It was just…empty. 

Getting out of Mammalogy, you lock eyes on the direction map placed on the wall as the stolen keys sit in your pocket, muffled metal clinking against the coin. Looking at it, you’re hit with a wave of sadness, brows going downturned, and a rueful frown coming to your lips. 

“Guess not, Old Man.” You mutter to a ghost, shaking your head and pulse spiking when the female guard resets her path and begins to come back. Your body dashes away into memories and shadows with nothing more than a harsh sigh.

—

You stand at the bottom of the long staircase, breathing heavily and staring at the double doors of the museum storage room, grimacing but internally celebrating that you’ve gotten to where you need to go. There were multiple close calls with security, plus the unconscious man near the offices that you had to go back to. 

But here, now, you finally were able to get somewhere. 

Inserting the needed key into the door, you push through one and find rows upon rows of Archival storage boxes and cupboards all in pure white and gray. Blinking, you let the door close behind you as you huff out a scoff. 

“I swear if these aren't in alphabetical order…” Your dim eyes go from one to another, but you grunt and go to find the labeled letters on the sides of the cupboards, the temperature dropping multiple digits to help the items preserve better. 

Fingers twitching over the boxes, you slide them along as you read, muttering to yourself. A few moments into your search, the familiar name of your dad comes into view and you smile softly. 

“Here we are.” Hand reaching out, you peel the object out and place it on the floor, taking a deep breath before popping the top and gazing inside. 

There were two visible objects—a laptop and a journal. 

Intrigued, your hands delve inside and take out the black leather journal with careful hands, feeling the bulk of crinkled, written-in pages. As you hold it up and tilt it over, something falls out and clatters to the ground; the clink of plastic making your eyes widen in surprise.

“And what do we have here?” A USB stick meets your bandaged flesh as you pick it up, sutures under your skin raw and tight. You pay no mind to the second pulse in your flesh and stare intently at the navy blue tone of the small object. “USB stick…? What were you doing in there?”

Your face goes curious, head tilting as you move the stick around in your hand. With a hum and a serious edge to your brows, you hide the object in your jacket’s pocket and quickly take up the remainder of the belongings. Putting the box back where it was, you high-tail it back out the door, lock it, and dash up the stairs. 

This had to have everything you needed in it—a full laptop that with any luck was still intact, a journal, and a USB stick. The stick alone could give you swathes of information, and the journal…you hold back a yell of victory. 

Your dad was sure to have something in all of this mentioning the donations and the moniker. The documents with the same date and printed red ink. There was something there; on the cusp of a great discovery like an anthropologist on a dig site. A pressure in the back of your mind—incessant ringing. 

Something. 

Getting back was easier now that you knew the places to avoid, and as you slip the keys back onto the unconscious guard's belt, you take back up the grate in one arm. Going back, you stand atop the bench below the vent, huffing as you shove your father’s things up first. 

“What would Gaz do?” Your voice questions, hearing the long groaning from the downed security behind you. Sighing, you leave the grate on the bench, climbing back up with your muscles straining. It’s a slow crawl back to a section where you can actually turn your body around and at that point, you’re annoyed with the tightness of the vents. 

But you do it, regardless, dangling your arms out of the square to twiddle your fingers above the grate before you finally claw it back up and twist it around, flesh pinched as you handle the long slats to manhandle it back into position with a defining pop of steel. Like a kangaroo, you slip the journal and laptop into your jacket, zipping it up and letting the objects hang as you shuffle backward—able to turn back around one more time as you begin retracing your steps. 

You’re sure you're going to be sore tomorrow from all of this activity. 

“If,” you bonk your head and hiss, glaring at the ceiling as you climb upward. “If Gaz lets me live that long. I’ll be lucky if he even makes me dinner anymore.” 

There’s a part of you that realizes the effects of what this might bring. A small portion of unease and…fear. But there were things that you had to do alone, and this was one of them. It was your father that had been wronged, and it fell on you to finish this story, for ill or for better.

When you finally make it to the roof, you heave a breath of fresh air, basking in the open land. The grate screws back on easily with the help of your coin and hiking your father’s items higher in your grip, you speed to the ladder. 

Even without checking your phone, you know you have missed calls—missed messages that number in the hundreds. It was far past midnight; you were stupid to think you’d be back on time. 

“At least let me come up with a good excuse before I see him.” But still, you’re filled with a sense of elated accomplishment, your body quivering with adrenaline and happiness as your mouth opens in quick chuckles. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I did it! I’d like to see him hold a grudge against this.” Feet moving quickly, you get to the top of the ladder and bend down, smiling wide and cheeks pulled back with glee.

You looked over the edge of the roof, irises sparkling like gems as your throat holds giggles and puffs of excited breaths. Only you don’t lock into the ground feet below. 

Instead, brown eyes like tree bark glare up into yours with hidden fury.

And then the black vehicles pull up with a screech of tires.

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[mountymase]

invisible string - part four

“Tell me everything about her. Everything I missed”

pairing: reader x mason mount summary: It’s been you and your daughter until life decides to prank you by putting her dad back into your life. The only problem is that he doesn’t know he’s her dad.

warnings: fluff, angst, a bit of swearing, mentions of childbirth author: pls do not ask when part five is coming 🫠🥹🥲 thank you for all the support, though! I love each and all of you. word count: 5.328k

PART THREE

“How do you think the girls will react when we tell them?” Jaz questioned, sipping her chamomile tea.

“Knowing Lily, she’ll be over the moon.” You watched Jaz sigh deeply, a wide smile spread across her lips. She knew the answer but you could tell she needed some sort of reassurance. “I’m an only child, so besides school and ballet, she spends most of her time with adults. With my dad, especially. It’ll be great for her.”

“Knowing Lily, she’ll be over the moon.” You watched Jaz sigh deeply, a wide smile spread across her lips. She knew the answer but you could tell she needed some sort of reassurance. “I’m an only child, so besides school and ballet, she spends most of her time with adults. With my dad, especially. It’ll be great for her.”

“It’s the same for Sum. My sister lives in Australia with her husband and two kids, and it’ll be great for Summer to have a cousin she can see anytime she wants.”

Cousins. It still made you catch your breath how fast this was going although only Jaz, Sam and your friend Willow knew the truth. Perhaps fast was good and you wouldn’t feel like being tortured trying to figure out the best moment to drop the truth.

Jaz ordered another slice of chocolate cake for herself and asked for an extra fork so she’d share it with you, although you made it clear you tried to keep a strict diet since you gave birth to Lily, with your schedule sometimes being too tight to hit the gym every day. You enjoyed this bond you were building, you could see Jasmine slowly becoming someone you could trust with your eyes closed and, afterall, she was your daughter’s aunt. There was so much to build around this, so much trust and, eventually, love - but you could see it, clear as the day. You could see her becoming one of your best friends and also someone Lily could count on.

“He’s coming home from Dubai tonight, you know.” Resting both hands on her bump, Jaz carefully watched your reaction to the news. “And he wants to surprise Summer by picking her up after ballet tomorrow, so…”

“I don’t want him to see us yet.” You swallowed the knot that formed on your throat, taking a sip of your strawberry tea hoping its warmth would comfort you. Jasmine nodded, knowing where you were coming from. 

“Make up something and don’t bring Lily, and show up for lunch at my place on Saturday. Mase usually goes there in the afternoons.”

“Saturday afternoon, then?” Lowering your gaze, you rubbed your eyes with your palms and before you could rest your hand on the table again, Jaz reached out to hold it.

“You’ll be fine. Sam can take the girls out, I’ll be around, but you have to tell him.” She squeezed your hand and you just nodded. “We should go now.”

Driving in London wasn’t your favourite thing to do unless there was music on and you had Lily giggling at your terrible singing skills - you took an alternative and longer way home so the music wouldn’t be the only sound that was making you happy. You watched through the rearview how Lily moved her shoulders up and down to the beat, making funny faces to herself, thinking you weren’t watching at all when there was really nothing you enjoyed more than seeing how your daughter could enjoy herself. When you finally arrived home, Lily ran off to her room and went back holding her towel and unicorn robe on each hand, knowing that’d be enough for you to know she wanted a bubble bath.

“You know what I was thinking, Lils?” You asked, massaging her head as you breathed in the lovely smell of baby shampoo. Lily kept her eyes closed but softly hummed a ‘hmm’. “Girls day tomorrow. I’m missing spending time with my favourite girl.”

“School, mummy.” Loving how responsible she was for a girl her age, you kissed her wet cheek before you started to rinse her hair.

“I know, sweetheart, don’t worry about that. Focus on the fun.”

And she did. 

Lily woke up first the next day, snuggled under the duvet with you and you two stayed there, eyes closed, for at least an hour. By how peaceful her breathing was, you could tell she took a nap even if all the little girl wanted was to enjoy the day as much as she could. The plan was not leaving the flat and just staying in, watching Disney and Pixar films, cooking her the most delicious spag bol just so you’d see those chubby cheeks stained with red sauce, baking her chocolate chip biscuits and cuddling on the sofa all day. Only when you were watching Moana and Lily started yawning from waking up too early, and she snuggled in your arms hiding her face against your chest, was that you realised it was the last day of just Lily and mummy. A new person was about to walk into your lives and turn it upside down but the truth was that Mason should’ve always been part of it.

On her last birthday, once everyone left, Lily confessed that her birthday wish was having her daddy with her. Then, on Christmas, she asked again, hoping he’d come. You knew she’d be happy and Lily never worried you, she was too wise for a girl her age. 

What got you wondering for hours was what kind of dad he’d be? With such an inconsistent and busy schedule, would he be there for her? Would he love and accept her?

Would he take her away from you?

No.

Pulling her closer as you noticed that Lily was now peacefully sleeping, you paused the film and closed your eyes as the softness of her dark brown hair touched your face. You had your arms around her, protecting her as you’ve been doing since you found out she was growing inside you. No one would ever take that kid from you and you hoped Mason wouldn’t dream of trying because you weren’t up for a fight that everyone would end up losing. You just wanted him to be the dad she needed so much, something your dad would never be able to because it wasn’t the same. You only woke up again when Lily started to move in your arms and tiny hands cupped your jaw as she kissed your entire face.

“Sleepy mummy.” Lily kissed your eyelids, the tip of your nose and softly squeezed your cheeks. “I’m hungry.”

“Spag bol?”

You watched her jump on the sofa and perfectly land on the floor before running and spinning around the flat, happily nodding to your suggestion. It was funny, but it wasn't unusual for you seeing her so happy and so full of energy. With your hair up in a messy bun, you made your way to the kitchen with Lily on your feet - she raised both arms so you could lift her and put her on the chair next to the counter. She patiently waited for some fruits that you perfectly cut in small cubes, it was usually her pre lunch snack. You giggled at the ‘mhmm yummy’ she hummed and, watching her as you prepared the sauce, you thought what her reaction would be. Not only towards Mason, but mostly towards you even if this wasn’t about you.

Would she hate you? Would she stop talking to you?

Would she want to leave and stay with her dad?

No.

For a moment, you wanted to take your daughter and run away. That same feeling of you feeling suffocated creeping in again, pulling you out of that comfort zone you’ve been in for the past four years of yours and Lily’s life. Things would be different now and you could only hope it was for the better because that’s what Lily could bring into people’s lives - nothing but good things.

“Is it yummy, kid?” You had a smile curling the sides of your lips as you watched her devour her spaghetti, some red sauce stains on her cheeks, making Lily the most adorable sight you’ve seen in the longest time. She cheerfully nodded at you, blowing a kiss.

“So much, mummy. Thank you!” With your index finger, you poked her dimple and pulled away a string of dark brown hair, putting it behind her ear.

“Should we go for a bubble bath and then have dessert?” Wiggling her chubby legs, Lily nodded and clapped her hands once she finished her meal, and then raised one of her hands so you could give her a high five - which you obviously did, there was nothing you wouldn’t do for that girl.

For the rest of the day, it was just you having the most fun. You two baked and had the chocolate chip biscuits - she asked to keep some for Summer, which you agreed - and watching NatGeo, one of her favourite things to do, but you couldn’t fully focus on whatever the man on the TV said about the african elephants daily routine because your mind was somewhere else. On someone else, actually.

You were going to see Mason for the first time since you tried to tell him about Lily and that definitely opened some old wounds, it brought the hurt back even if that was also one of the happiest days of your life. You remembered how having Lily’s dad around, it didn’t matter who he was, would’ve made such a huge difference during your pregnancy… how it would’ve made such a huge difference each day since she was born. Yes, you should’ve insisted, maybe - but he should’ve let you talk. Mason was also to blame for Lily not having her dad around, and you knew there were bigger chances of it all turning into a situation where you’d point your fingers at each other, finding someone to blame, instead of just being there for her. That’s why you went to bed repeating to yourself that you wouldn’t let it happen, that you’d be there for Lily even if, someday, she pushed you away.

And again, Mason Mount was there to haunt you in your dreams. 

When you woke up the next day, earlier than you should have when you took your phone to check the time, you noticed there were a few texts from Willow wishing you the best of luck today and that she’d be there for whatever you needed, that Lily couldn’t have a better mum - one that always fought so hard to see her happy even if it meant pushing your own happiness away.

You didn’t want to wake up your daughter so you stayed there, in bed, as if the ceiling was the most interesting thing in the world. Maybe you could decide on something to wear? Deep down, you wanted to look good and show him you’ve been just fine all these years - as if he’d even care. Silly.

You decided to text Jaz.

You were in silence for a few seconds when you answered the call, the two of you hearing each other’s breath, trying to let today’s events sink in and allowing it to become a reality rather than your daily meetings for tea over the week. It was real now, you were only a few hours away from telling Mason that he had a daughter and Jasmine was pretty much your partner in crime. It still overwhelmed you the fact she was on your side and, not once, pointed a finger at you and your decisions - you knew it came from the fact she was a mum too.

Finally, she told you how things went with Mason the day before. Jaz said she had to tell him a lie, asking him to come over again in the afternoon and spend the day with Summer because Sam would be out with the boys and she was too tired to spend the day alone. You thanked her, multiple times, making sure she’d forever know how grateful you were for all the support and you got a sniff in return, with Jaz blaming mostly the pregnancy hormones for feeling emotional. You said your goodbyes when you heard Lily’s voice calling you from the electronic babysitter.

“Good morning, peanut.” You said with a smile, watching her stretching up her arms and legs with a groan, puffy eyes and messy hair making your heart melt. “Hungry?”

“Mhmm. Can I have pancakes, mummy?”

“Absolutely, love.” Sitting on her bed, you cradled Lily in your arms, lips brushing her forehead. “You’re spending the day with Summer and her daddy today.”

Still sleepy, she reacted to the news with a little leg wiggle and gave you the tightest morning hug. 

As you prepared her breakfast, you were still on the ‘this is the last time I’m doing this where it’s just us’ roll from the day before. After today, you hoped Mason would make her pancakes too, you hoped the three of you could have breakfast together and make up for the lost time where Lily didn’t have parents and just a mum, instead. You knew that it didn’t matter how invested you were, how hard you tried to be the best mum in the world, a girl growing up without a dad was wrong and your own father couldn’t be the father figure she needed, even if he was a great one it wasn’t his place.

You bathed her, brushed her hair and let her go pick an outfit to spend her day with her bestie and, possibly, meet her daddy. You always let Lily pick whatever she wanted to wear after reading in a book that it helped children to be more independent and creative, although you knew that was just Lily’s personality.

*****

“I’m not sure if I’ll be able to eat anything,” You confessed, watching Jaz place the salad bowl on the counter, gesturing you to take it to the table. “But thank you for cooking, anyway.”

Anticipating you wouldn’t behave normally, Sam was kind enough to take the girls out earlier than planned and promised to feed them with healthy stuff for lunch so the afternoon would be all about whatever they wanted. He texted Jaz some photos of Summer and Lily in the backseat of his car, making the funniest faces while they were stuck in traffic. 

“I didn’t do much, to be honest.” Jaz shrugged, a soft giggle parting her lips. “Grilling some chicken is nothing.”

“It’s more than anything I’d be able to do now. How are you so calm, Jaz?”

Jasmine shook her head. “I’m not but I’m trying my best, for her.” She pointed at her bump and you felt bad for putting a pregnant woman under so much stress. “I know my brother, Y/n. It’ll be a shock at first but once he gets used to the idea… he’ll be the best dad Lily could ask for.”

You could only hope she was right. While you had lunch, your mind went back to Mason again, but this time it wasn’t what kind of dad he’d be to Lily, but more what you could expect he’d be to you too. First, you wondered if he’d recognise you, how he’d treat you first and how he’d treat you after. Memories of that night flooded your mind, the way he touched you still very much alive, making you shiver. His smile, his raspy voice praising you, his lips on your skin… all those memories were two sides of the same coin. They were great, but also a torture. 

There was never a denial coming from you that you didn’t fall hard for him the following month, while the possibility of becoming parents hung above your heads. You fell even harder once Lily became a reality and, unfortunately, a lot more although he shoved you off without letting you tell him about her existence. Then, convincing yourself that Mason would never be part of your life, you put him and all that love inside an imaginary box and locked it all there. You forced yourself to turn him into something small that would never affect your life and now you had to open that box again, ignoring the fact that there was a big chance all that love was still there. 

“I think he’s here, earlier than expected.” Jaz groaned when the noise of a car parking outside filled the room, looking at your untouched food with a sad look. “I know it’s cold outside, but go breathe in some cold air to clear your head.”

You just nodded, quickly getting up and just ignoring everything else as your eyes now burned with hot tears that’d roll down your cheeks soon or later. Feeling your chest clench, you hugged yourself when the cold air welcomed you. You swallowed the lump on your throat, blinking repeatedly, not wanting to cry now but when you heard Mason’s voice and laugh greeting his sister you broke down. Not sure if your body was shaking from the cold or the anxiety that washed over you, you hugged yourself even tighter finally realising that this was it, the moment it wasn’t just you and Lily anymore and this third person who  had every right to be part of her life would bring many others with him.

Breathe in, breathe out. Wipe your tears, stop shaking.

You repeated it as a mantra walking back inside, feeling more relaxed when the warmth and the smell of lavender engulfed you in what felt like a safety bubble, and feeling safe was what you needed now.

“Jaz?”

“She’s upstairs.” You gasped when you heard his voice coming from the kitchen, your only instinct was to follow it until you could see him sitting on the stool, arms supporting his body on the counter. Mason smiled when he watched you coming closer. “I’m her brother, Mason.” He stretched his arm, waiting for you to shake his hand but it quickly dropped to the side of his body. His big brown eyes narrowed at you as you chewed the inside of your cheek. “I know you.”

You nodded, a long and deep sigh parting your lips. “Hello, Mason. It’s been a while.”

“Miss champagne.” Mason shook his head apparently not believing it was you, the nickname taking you back to a night where things were just.. simple, and fun. Surprisingly, he stood up and walked towards you with arms wide open, then he simply hugged you. As if he hadn’t been an idiot the last time you had contact. “It’s lovely to see you again. How do you know my sister?”

“Our daughters take ballet class together.” You pulled away from him, intoxicated by his warmth and cologne, and he just frowned at you. 

Focus.

“You have a daughter?” The fact, somehow, seemed to amuse him. His eyes widened, a big smile spread across his lips. “Oh, I think I met her on FaceTime! Lily, isn’t?” 

Hearing her name coming from his lips felt like the most beautiful and poetic stab straight into your heart. You simply nodded, not being able to say anything else. Not being able to form a simple sentence, let alone tell him that Lily was his too. Still, the silence that fell between you wasn’t entirely awkward, nor uncomfortable. You noticed that as he watched you, Mason had a soft smile on his lips.

“What is it?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I think about you sometimes.”

“Do tell me more about it.” You scoffed, thinking how outrageous that was but with part of you also swooning at his confession. Your attitude made a soft flush spread across his cheeks.

Yes, you should feel ashamed. Idiot.

“Declan often talks about that night and I thought about trying to find you, multiple times. To apologise for ghost-“

“You never let me tell what I had to tell.” You interrupted him, watching Mason raise an eyebrow. “That day I went to your place. You just… you were the most polite idiot on the planet. I wasn’t there because I wanted to be friends with you.”

“Oh? Do you still have something to tell me or is it too late?” His eyebrows now frowned in confusion, ironically waiting for you to finish. 

You just sighed, his words slowly making your blood boil under your skin. If he behaved like this for the rest of your lives, it was going to be tough. “I went there to tell you about her, Mason.”

“About her…?”

“Lily.”

“You went to my place to tell me about Lily?” If Mason was a cartoon, there’d be some smoke hanging above his head as his brain tried to put your words together and finally realise what exactly you meant.

“Why else would her second name be Maisie other than you being her dad, Mason?”

Mason gasped, both hands firmly holding the counter as he forced himself to stand up. His jaw dropped, his brown eyes were wide open and his cheeks flushed hard. You watched as he started breathing heavier, his chest quickly moving up and down as he tried to catch a breath and calm his nerves. He was a dad. 

He wasn’t sure what to say, how to react, but the feeling that clenched his chest and made him want to vomit once he realised he missed years of that girl’s life, it hit him like a punch on his throat, stomach and every other place it’d make him feel that way.

“Y-you went there,” He took a long, deep breath. “To tell me that you were p-pregnant?” 

“Yes.”

There was nothing left to say, unless he asked, but Mason was in silence for a few minutes and, this time, it bothered you. Still, you tried to focus on the fact that even if this whole situation was difficult, you felt lighter after telling him. You watched him open his mouth to say something, but each time he stopped and looked away, and you could see he was hurt. Mason sniffed a few times, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.

“Are you also telling me I’ve missed years of her life, Y/n?” That was a slap on your face. Lowering your gaze, not really able to look at him, you just nodded. “You should’ve insisted.”

“And you should’ve noticed how miserable I was on that day, when you politely shoved me off.”

“I-I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“That’s not the point, Mason. From that day, it doesn’t matter how hurt I was or am, nothing really matters except for the fact that for some stupid reason, I’m only here today because life decided it’d be fun for your niece to go to the same ballet studio as my daugh-“ You sighed. “Our daughter.”

“You’d never tell me if it wasn’t for that, then?” He asked, apparently shocked.

“It was enough for me to be rejected, I don’t want Lily to go through the same.”

“I’ll pretend you didn’t say this, because you clearly don’t know me, but I would never reject my kid.”

Deep down, you wanted to smile. That was what you needed to listen, that he wouldn’t reject Lily, because in the end it was all about her. Instead, you just nodded, a sigh of relief parting your lips without you even noticing. You were both in silence again, your minds working on something to say that wouldn’t end up in a heated argument because there was no point now - it’d be a massive waste of time.

“Would you-hmm…” You cleared your throat, taking your phone from the back pocket of your jeans as Mason watched you, curiosity sparkling in his eyes. “See pictures of her? There’s videos too.”

Mason frowned, but was quick to nod and mumble several yeses as he rubbed his palms on his hoodie, clearly trying to control his emotions. You were closer to each other again, sitting on the stool. You thought it’d be a good idea to just start from the beginning, same way you did with Jaz - it worked, and you could only hope it’d have the same result with Mason. 

Opening that same gallery you had only pictures of Lily, you could swear the sides of his lips were curled into the softest smile before you opened the first picture. You, the tiniest bump, in front of the mirror and looking absolutely miserable. You thought of telling how the pregnancy was, not really sure if he’d want to know, and the only idea you had to interact with Mason was giving him your phone so he could see for himself and feel comfortable to ask you whatever he wanted as you were just sitting there, feeling like you could cry any minute.

When he finally opened a picture of what you remembered as the 8th month of your pregnancy, Mason spent a few minutes just staring at it.

“Did she move a lot?” He asked, eyes glued to the picture. Mason softly brushed his thumb over it, as if he wanted to touch your bump and you had to blink multiple times or tears would roll down your cheeks at this point.

“Mhmm,” You mumbled, sniffing. Mason looked at you, moving closer when he noticed your eyes sparkling with tears. Then, in his own way of trying to comfort you, he held your pinky with his. You gulped. “She kicked a lot, right on my ribs, and so hard I had to catch my breath.”

His giggle was mostly repeated gasps, as if it somehow Lily’s kicking abilities amused him. Or made him proud. Not for kicking you, obviously… but for having a strong kick.

Then, Mason opened a video of you in the front seat of your dad’s car, clearly in pain, your mum and Willow in the back with the latter filming the whole thing - you held your bump with both hands, still smiling through the pain and, occasionally, reached for your dad’s hands. ‘Lily is ready to take over the world, everyone!’ Willow said, and the video ended with you screaming as the next contraction hit. You laughed at the memory.

“I’m sorry.” Mason simply said, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “For causing you so much physical pain.”

“Don’t be silly.” You softly elbowed his rib, getting a short nod from him.

You watched him blush a little when the next pictures were mostly you inside the birthing pool. Mason thought that, despite looking exhausted and clearly in pain, you looked absolutely beautiful. But part of him couldn’t ignore how hurt he felt once he realised how much he wanted to be there, to watch his daughter make her first appearance.

His daughter.

This time, it was Mason who sniffed. Not letting your hand go, he dropped your phone on the counter and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, took the longest breath and took your phone again. And this time, it was you who rubbed the back of his hand with your thumb.

For the next hour, you watched him open every single video and every single photo of the Lilian Maisie gallery on your phone. There were photos there that not even you remembered existed, and you thought it was particularly emotional when you caught him pressing the heart button on a few of them. You’d make sure to send him those as soon as you could, deep down knowing he’d definitely like it.

The last photo of the gallery was one taken on her fourth birthday party at your parent’s cottage in Cotswolds, Lily had her arms over the table, supporting her body, and those big brown eyes sparkled with happiness for seeing her family there celebrating her. Mason took his own phone from his pocket and opened a picture of himself, placing your phones next to one another so you two could compare.

“Well, fuck-” You breathed. “I knew she looked a lot like you, but-”

His laugh interrupted you and it was him now, elbowing your rib. “She’s perfect.”

You nodded, a long sigh parting your lips and, then, a soft smile curling the sides of it. 

“Lily is incredible, Mason. Whenever you feel ready to meet her, you’ll see how easy it is to fall in love with that tiny human, whatever kind of love you’re capable of giving her now.”

“I liked the sound of her laugh when I FaceTimed Summer and she was there.”

“It’s the sound of true happiness.”

“Tell me everything about her, Y/n. Everything I missed.”

“Gosh, Mason…” There he was again, rubbing the back of your hand, his pinky playing with yours. Such an intimate gesture, as it should be, because you both shared a life. Someone who would need both of you for as long as you’d live. “I don’t even know where to begin. But according to Jaz, she’s all you. Lily is just… happy. All the time, she has the most beautiful smile on her face and this endless energy I hardly can keep up with.”

“Sounds like me, yeah.” Mason lowered his gaze, focused on his finger playing with yours. “I wish you had insisted, Y/n.”

“I wanted to. I wanted to punch you and make you listen, but your reaction hurt me so much and those first few weeks were so hard, Mason.” You sniffed, finally feeling a single tear rolling down your cheek. “I don’t even know how I got there, I felt so weak all the time. That minimum effort of going to your place and those emotions cost me four days at the hospital.”

“I don’t know exactly how we are going to do this, but I hope you let me be part of her life.”

“Of course I let you, Mason. You don’t even have to ask. You’re all she’s been wishing for, ever since she noticed there was someone missing.”

When he was about to answer, clearly moved by the fact she missed having him in her life, Jaz walked into the kitchen with her face all red and puffy eyes from crying. He let go of your hand with a groan and it felt like the loss of contact made part of you feel empty.

“I obviously overheard the whole thing but I’m just here to say that Sam is back with the girls, they should be here any minute.”

“This is not how I want to meet her.” He turned to look at you, grabbed your phone again and added his number back on your contacts. “Text me your address and I’ll be there tonight so it can be just us.”

Not knowing what to say, you nodded, and Mason kissed Jaz’s cheeks and whispered her a ‘thank you’ before disappearing upstairs. Before Jaz could say something, you heard the front door open and the two girls rush into the house, loud laughs filling every room, warming your heart. But you also felt your head spinning with things happening so quickly.

“Muuummyyyy!” You heard Lily’s voice call you, and your first instinct was to smile, even before she showed up with arms wide open ready to hug you. It felt like after telling Mason, she looked even more like him - Lily’s whole energy screamed Mason.

“Hello, my baby,” You cooed, arms tightly wrapped around her small figure as Lily cupped your face with her hands and kissed your cheek. “Mummy’s got a surprise for you tonight. Shall we go home?”

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Time makes strangers of us all (dp x dc)

It was a mild night. They were way pasts sweater weather, what with summer fast approaching but the air was still pleasantly cool as the sun went down. Jazz liked that about the late spring months, no more allergies but the smell of summer in the air. It was a quiet night in Amity. It wasn't quite so rare as it had been a few years ago but it was still something the people here knew to be grateful for. At least most of them.

Jazz sighed as she walked through the darkening streets. The sky was turning a beautiful dark blue colour, and here and there street lamps were lighting up. She'd gone long enough to have reached the park that was nearby and she started down the road that followed its edge. Her eyes settled on the illuminated scenes of people going about their evening. With the lack of natural light, the warm glow that shined through the windows made it all the more visible. As she walked within view of a large stone house with its balcony door open, she could hear piano notes filtering through the quiet night. Jazz slowed down as she passed in front, maximizing her time within earshot of the peaceful music.

She could see someone washing the dishes in one house, and a couple sitting on the couch in another. Some windows, she didn't see anyone, but the warm light indicated a soul was awake somewhere in the house. Jazz didn't wish that warm light was hers, at least not anymore. Leaving Amity Park for college had given her something like perspective, and coming back after two years left her with complicated feelings.

Tonight, it seemed nostalgia was the most prominent one. She reached the end of the street which brought her face to face with the river. She used to catch fireflies with Danny near here and she wondered if there were still some around. With a smile, she started on the path following the riverside as the first stars started to come out.

It was truly a beautiful night. Not a cloud in the sky, Danny would've loved to go stargazing. It was almost a shame he had stayed back at their apartment near campus. He'd said he had a big assignment due and had begged off the trip. Jazz could understand. She had made the same kinds of excuses for two years to avoid coming here.

Danny would come around one day. He would realize, as she did, that the life they'd left behind wasn't waiting here in Amity Park. It wasn't waiting anywhere anymore because it no longer existed. Their old house was sold, the inventions, the portal, long dismantled. There were no more ghosts in Amity Park except the ones Jazz had come here to lay to rest. From the corner of her eyes she caught something moving. She turned her head to see one lone firefly sitting on a leaf of the willow tree that was growing on the bank. Jazz smiled as she crouched to get a better view of the small insect. As she looked at its antenna that were gently swaying in the wind, she caught herself wishing Danny had come with her after all if only to reminisce together.

Someone cleared their throat behind her and Jazz jumped a feet in the air. She turned around quickly. In front of her was a man, looking about the same age as she was. He was about the same size as her as well, maybe a bit shorter, though his shoulder width more than made up for it. His face showed surprise at having surprised her so badly.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking awkwardly apologetic, "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's alright," Jazz said as she willed her heartbeat to slow down to its normal speed.

"My bike broke down," he explained as he gestured behind him towards the highway in the distance. "I was wondering if you knew the closest mechanic around?"

Jazz winced. "Sal's is definitely closed by now," she answered.

The guy sighed wearily. "I figured," he said. "Do you know someplace I could crash for the night?"

"Amity's Bed and Breakfast is close by," Jazz offered. "I can show you if you'd like?"

"That'd be great," said the guy as his shoulders slumped a little.

Jazz nodded before stepping back on the river path fully. Like that, she had a better view of the highway coming into town and the big Welcome sign that proclaimed Amity Park was "a nice place to live". With a last nostalgic thought before she let the peace of the evening disperse fully, Jazz let a small smile stretch her lips. It really was a nice place now, the golden sky after the storm.

"My name's Jazz," she started as she turned her back on the road in the distance.

"I'm Jason," the guy said as he followed after her.

Yeah, thought Jazz as they retraced back her steps from earlier that night, her days of running around chasing the undead were truly and completely over.

It was smooth sailing for her from here on out.

[avatarmerida]

We're getting skater girl part 2?!?! I'm so excited!

Actually it's Part 3! You can find part 1 here and part 2 here

aaaaaaand here's part three:

Hunter usually got to school early anyway, but Monday morning he was there before Bump had even unlocked the door.

He had hardly slept, which wasn’t terribly new, but this type of anxiety didn’t just make him scared he was also a little… excited?

Friday night played over and over in his mind. During breakfast and his chores and his collection of endless lessons, his mind wandered back to the school steps. He stood at the bottom of the stairs at the edge of where the shadows started, looking at her like she was the only light that could cast them. One second they were just standing there and he got to see just how green her eyes were up close and the next he was kissing Willow. 

He kissed Willow.

He kissed Willow.

He kissed Willow. 

He had been impulsive, he still wasn’t sure if it technically broken school policy but he didn’t care? But he also cared a lot? But not about policy for once, no he cared about what it actually meant. He knew things happened at dances that would not happen otherwise, things people hoped for, things that happened impulsively under the guise of the flashing lights. Things people came to regret come Monday morning.

He knew his moment with Willow had been two of these, but he hoped it wouldn’t try for all three.

When she had gotten him to his house with plenty of time to spare they were a collection of muffled laughter as they tried to keep quiet. Normally, he’d be anxious about what his uncle would say, but Willow made him feel safe. When Willow touched him, it activated a bubble. It was like the pressure of his position, the weight of every expectation was gone because they were too fast for it to catch up. Even when they were standing still, if he was near her it still felt like flying. 

“Thank you again,” he said once his house was in sight. 

“No problem,” she said as she caught her breath. They would’ve gotten here in time with her usual speed, but she had gone faster to try and impress Hunter. The fact that the faster she went, the tighter he held onto her was just an added bonus. “I think I set a new personal record.”

“Cool,” he said, equally as breathless for a different reason. “Happy to help.”

They stood there as the autumn air hung between them, both in and out of their element. He wanted to say more but he didn't know what else there was to say. He was still a little embarrassed, a little confused, but being in her arms he felt like those problems could wait for him on the ground. But the realist in him knew he couldn’t stay here forever. Granted, he knew he could probably stay here awhile; she was pretty strong. 

But he didn’t want to overstay his welcome. 

“Um, Willow?”

“Yeah?”

“You can uh, put me down now,” he chuckled nervously, a part of him not wanting to say anything. Willow blushed at the realization that she was still holding him.

“Oh yeah, of course,” she said with a matching chuckle as she gently set him down. She playfully brushed imaginary dust off his shoulder. “Another successful delivery.”

“Heh, yeah,” Hunter said with a faint smile, kicking the ground knowing he had a few minutes to spare and not wanting to leave her just yet.

She fiddled with her braid, sharing the feeling. 

“It’s a nice night,” she sighed, looking up at the night sky. “You can see the stars out here. It’s really beautiful.”

“Yeah, really beautiful,” he breathed, looking at her looking at the sky. She smiled, feeling his eyes on her as they listened to the crickets chirp. 

Hunter knew if it wasn’t for him, Willow would be back at the school laughing and dancing and having the night she deserved. Now she had to skate home in the dark by herself and probably be late for her own curfew. How was he worth all that trouble?

“Willow, I need to apologize,” he said softly.

“You’ve apologized like twelve times already,” said Willow. “Hunter, I promise I’m not upset with you, you know it wasn’t your fault, right?”

He could tell she was trying to take it easy on him.

“It’s just… I still feel really bad for yelling at you,” he admitted.

“Oh stop, you yell at me all the time,” she reminded him.

Not like that, he thought. Never like that. 

“And also for making you miss the dance.” He said, realizing he had a long list of things to apologize for. “I mean I know how much you were looking forward to it and you didn’t even get to dance-.”

“Ah, it’s fine,” she assured him, waving her hand. “Besides, I probably wouldn’t have too much luck dancing in skates anyway.”

“Yeah but if I wasn’t such a jerk then maybe we could have gone together properly and you could have worn dancing shoes and a dance dress-.”

“‘A dance dress?’” Willow repeated with a giggle. “What’s a ‘dance dress?’”

“You know, like a fancy formal dress for a dance,” he said, slightly embarrassed. 

“Hmm, so you wanna see me in a fancy formal dress for a dance huh?” she teased.

He blushed. “I just want you to have the night you deserve,” he said, carefully choosing his words. “You deserve to be in the gym with all your friends having fun, not doing favors for me.”

“Hunter, I promise you more than made up for it,” she said with a smirk. “I had a wonderful night.”

“Really? How?” She had spent her whole night babysitting, then getting accused of Boscha’s lies, and then running home to help him. She had spent her whole night helping other people

“Because I got to spend it with you,” she said simply. “And that’s all I really wanted anyway.”

In this small serene moment outside all the chaos, Willow’s words caught up to him: I’ve had a crush on him for awhile now…

Did that count as a confession? Did he need something more direct or in writing to confirm that he hadn’t imagined or misheard her. Because it didn’t quite add up that this dizzy, silly, floating feeling that he had for Willow was returned. Even more unbelievable was that he hadn’t blown it. He had wanted to impress her, to be a perfect gentleman but even when she saw the side of him he wasn’t proud of, she still stayed. What had he done to earn such affection?

 He thought about kissing her again. They were far from school and there were no rules stopping him now, just nerves. But he didn’t want to do it just because no one would see. He didn’t want her to think he was doing it because he was grateful she had gotten him home before his curfew. He couldn’t describe in plain words why he wanted to do it, but his heart beat loud in his ears as the memory flooded his mind again. Whatever that was, he wanted it again.

“Well maybe next time we can hang out when you don’t have to rescue me because I’m running late for something,” he attempted to joke.

“Well maybe I like rescuing you,” she teased, moving closer to him. 

“Well maybe I like…” you he so desperately wanted to say. He wanted to show her how grateful he was for her, to know her, to be seen by her, to spend any amount of time with her. But again, it was complicated. He felt like he wasn’t allowed to like her but, like she was above and outside his world. She was a mystery and an open book at the same time, like a contradiction mixed with a shooting star. 

“…being rescued?” She offered. 

Did he like being swooped into her arms and whisked away like his troubles were a physical thing he could run from? Maybe more than he should. Being rescued implied inconveniencing someone, burdening them with his troubles. But with Willow it felt like being noticed, being cared for. Oh, she could rescue him anytime she wanted to.

“I just… uh… thank you. I know I’m not always the warmest or friendliest person but I’ve always thought you were so kind and patient and beautiful and I’m just not used to someone-”

He was cut off by her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, pinning his arms to his sides as her face rested against his chest. 

“Uh… w-what’s going on?” He asked. “N-not that I’m complaining I just don’t-.”

“I wanna help you get used to it,” she said. “Because I think you are a very warm and friendly person, even if you don’t think so.”

She didn’t mention that he had so casually called her beautiful, she kept that fact in her back pocket for a rainy day. 

“Well, I-I think you’re very… uh…”

“Beautiful?” she teased, resting her chin on his chest to look up at him mischievously. Okay, so maybe a rainy day didn’t have to be so far in the future. 

“Yeah,” he said, knowing he couldn’t believably deny it and frankly he didn’t want to. Something in her eyes hypnotized him and allowed him to move his arms around her back. The moving of his arms led her to naturally move hers up around his neck as they both gravitated towards each other. Normally being so close to her and being so quiet would make him nervous, but this somehow felt natural and calming. 

“Ya know this kinda feels like we’re slow dancing,” Willow observed with a smile.

“Yeah I uh guess so,” Hunter replied with a nervous chuckle as she adjusted her grip on his neck. He could not wrap his head around that this was how she had wanted to spend the night originally, that he didn’t see it sooner. That he had held himself back from believing it could be something she’d want with him. 

He didn’t know how to dance but he felt like that didn’t matter now. 

When he first allowed himself to entertain the idea of going to the dance with her, he tried to imagine a grand, romantic evening. He knew little about romance but felt the word suited her very being, romance was supposed to be whimsical and spontaneous and exciting which she effortlessly was. But he was organized and calculated and skeptical which maybe didn’t have to clash which made it hard for him to see what she saw in him. Would he have known to hold her like this under the flashing lights and loud music barely covering the whispers of their peers? Would he have known how to keep the conversation going, known the right thing to say, known how to tell if things were going well? 

But maybe just trying was enough.

“Maybe you can work your magic at the next student council meeting to see if we can push up the next dance,” she said, her voice a mixture of humor and genuine hope. He hadn’t totally blown it and he wasn’t blowing it now, though he didn’t fully understand how. 

“Maybe,” he said. Oh, he would pull strings, pull rank, pull in any argument he could to make it so. He wanted to show her he was capable of showing her the time she deserved. He felt he owed her so much. Why couldn’t he say more? “It’ll give me time to practice so I actually know what I’m doing.”

“Well I’d be happy to help you practice,” she said and Hunter realized they had started to slightly sway. He intended to practice in order to impress her when the time came so he wouldn’t want her to see his awkward progress but something in her voice made him suspect she knew that but was implying something more. He tried to match her tone.

“Luckily I’m a fast learner,” he said, smoother than he had ever said anything in his life. He demonstrated by focusing all of his courage to pull her closer and skillfully lean her into a small dip. Her grip on him tightened, but not for fear he’d drop her. She let out a light giggle as her eyes locked down the way the streetlights above framed his head like a halo and how natural it looked resting in his golden hair. She held her breath, thinking about kissing him again. Thinking so hard she swore he could hear her thoughts as he leaned in closer. 

Then out of the corner of their sight a light went on that stopped them dead in their tracks. 

“Oh no,” Hunter whispered. “My uncle is awake.”

Without thinking Willow shifted her weight and knocked Hunter off his feet and brought them both down to the ground, out of sight in case his uncle happened to look out the window. She covered his mouth to prevent his sounds of surprise from giving them away. 

“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I’ll get you inside so he doesn’t know you’ve been out.”

“But how?” Hunter whispered back, too focused on his panic to process their position on the ground which would normally leave him flustered. “I won’t be able to use the front door because he uses the chain lock.”

“Can you climb through a window maybe?”

“Probably, but I’m not sure I can do it without him hearing.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Willow assured. “I said I’d get you home and that’s what I’m gonna do. Let me handle distracting your uncle.”

Hunter’s heart sank, he knew his uncle was a stern and cold man and he didn’t want Willow to have to endure such energy on his behalf. “But you’ve already done so much for me, I can’t ask you to-.”

“Hey now,” she cut him off by pressing his finger to his lips. “I like being your knight in shining armor, okay? Just leave it to me.” 

“But what will you say? How are you gonna explain knocking on a door at 10pm?”

“Don’t worry, he won’t suspect I’m here to see you or anything” she assured him. “I’ll tell him I’m lost, that I’m looking for my aunt’s house or something. I’ll make something up and it’ll give you enough time to run upstairs.”

“Do you have a lot of experience sneaking into places?” Hunter gulped, trying to mix a compliment into his concern.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she said playfully, moving her finger from his lips to boop his nose. Her confidence made him calm and he cracked a smile. “When you get inside safely, text me and I’ll head out.”

“But I don’t have your number.”

“Well it’s about time you asked for it then, isn’t it?” She smirked. “C’mere.”

She grabbed his hand as she fetched a marker for her skirt pocket, skillfully removing the cap with her teeth as she delicately wrote her phone number on his wrist. He watched with bated breath as she finished it with a tiny heart and he hoped she couldn’t hear his heart beating as his mind screamed at him that he would never be this cool.

“Wait like a minute and then make your way to the back, okay?” Willow instructed as she recapped the marker. She leapt back onto her feet as she dusted the dust from her blouse. “I won’t leave until you text me.”

“Okay,” he whispered from the ground, now in awe of the halo that found her. “And uh, w-what should I text you?”

“Send me a heart,” she said with a wink before taking off to the door. He watched her through the sheaves in the bushes, wondering how she continued to out-wonderful herself. 

After a minute, he tiptoed around the house listening as Willow spun a tale of asking for directions unsure of the order of the numbers of the house she was looking for and color of the house. She kept going, giving his uncle no time to turn her away as she added to her fictional predicament. He stifled his laughter as he silently bolted up the stairs, marveling at the way she was able to make a normally panic inducing situation somewhat comical. 

The minute he carefully closed his door, he dashed to quickly change] his clothes before diving beneath the covers to copy the numbers on his arm to text Willow the code. He agonized a minute over which heart to send her before deciding on the yellow one, so she would know for sure it was from him. 

After another minute he received a green heart in response. He stared at them, hypnotized by them on the illustrated screen together as he tried to decide if it was appropriate to say something else. Maybe he was to only use her number for business purposes. He didn’t have much practice texting, he didn’t want to risk misusing an abbreviation or emoji so he decided on: let me kno w hen u get h.Ome sa fe

He didn’t fall asleep until another green heart appeared from her.

———

Hunter didn’t know what to do next. She somehow kept getting cooler and he felt like he was falling behind when it came to showing her another side of him. He had her number now but he felt as though whatever came next had to happen in person. 

He didn’t want Darius (or even worse for his uncle) to hear him practice what he would say when he saw her so he knew getting to school early was his safest bet. 

But he needed to be ready for every possibility.

If she was cool, he had to be cool:

Oh hey Willow, do anything… fun this weekend? He would say, leaning against the locker. He imagined she would look at him with sparkling, mischievous eyes as she offered a clever retort. Maybe she would giggle, believing his attempt at charm.

If she played it off, he would too:

Oh yeah, it was uh so random right? He would say, and she would brush her hair behind her ear or twirl the end of her braid. Like, that’s just dances, ya know? Craaazy haha

If she was mad, he would be mad:

Boscha had no right to try and drag your name through the mud. We should work together to try and get back at her in a way that doesn’t violate school policy or anyone’s privacy but also has us spend a lot of time together.

Hmm, that one might need some workshopping.

He could be nonchalant, he could be business as usual, but the one thing he didn’t want to be was regretful. 

Because he wasn’t, and he hoped it wasn’t too much to hope she wasn’t too.

She had implied that she liked him, that she like-liked him. His mind wanted to trick him that she really meant something else but as much of a rule breaker as she was, she was not a liar. She didn’t tease him to be spiteful or cruel, she did it because she knew him. She knew he had a certain way of thinking and operating and speaking, so she had crafted a language just for them. As far as he knew she didn’t speak to anyone else like that, in a way that made his heart pause and pound and spin.

It took him awhile to accept that he liked her, but accepting it didn’t make it less confusing. He looked forward to seeing her everyday, and he liked things the way they were but lately she had been seeing him more, saying more, implying more. He didn’t know how to want more, he didn’t know what that looked like. 

It was risky, but Willow was all about risks. So maybe he needed to take a risk.

Hunter heard the hustle and  bustle start up in the hallway and knew Willow would be joining the masses any minute, and he wanted to be looking cool and proper when she did. 

He imagined her skating down the hallway, her loose braids trailing behind her like a comet’s tail and she’d spot him leaning against the locker looking suave and confident and her mind would straw back to Friday night with fondness. 

He took one last deep breath and prepared himself to enter the hallway, knowing he was losing time before the bell rang. But as he rushed into the hall, he bumped into someone and it sent him flying backwards onto the ground. 

“Sorry!” He said as he tried to regain his balance to once again rise to his feet, but the faster he got up the faster he’d fall down again. “Sorry! I take full responsibility, I know I shouldn’t even be-.”

“Hunter?” A familiar voice asked and he stopped himself as he looked up to see Willow standing over him with a confused smile. She caught his eye as he looked up at his name and extended her hand to him, “Are you okay? I didn’t see you come out and I uh -wait, are you wearing skates?” “Willow! I uh- wait, are you not?” he said as he took her hand and she swiftly pulled him up. He rolled a bit but she caught him to keep him up. 

“Oh, yeah,” she said as though she herself had forgotten. “I well, uh I thought we could walk to class together and I didn’t wanna be faster than you so I changed out of them before I came in today.”

“I uh, I had the same idea, actually,” he chuckled as he tried to keep his balance, but she instinctively placed her arm under his to keep him steady. He was extra tall now, towering over her without skates with the added height from his. Like a tree, a Willow and her tree.  

“Oh, so does this mean skates are no longer against school policy?” she said sweetly.

“Oh no, they uh definitely are,” he said, fully in her embrace now.

“So you’re knowingly breaking school policy for me?” she asked. “Ooh, how romantic.”

He averted his eyes to the ground and Willow’s heart did a skip when she saw him struggle to find a clever comeback and instead found a vivid blush splashed across his face. She was glad that the events from Friday hadn’t changed her favorite part of their dynamic. In truth, that was the best response Hunter could have hoped for but as usual she stumped him.

“Uh, well I hope you don’t mind but after I dropped you off at your house I went back to the school and I picked up the flowers you… had,” she didn’t want to say ‘threw at my feet in hurt’ even though that technically was accurate. “And I spruced ‘em up. You picked a really nice selection.”

“Oh, uh thanks yeah,” he replied, secretly thankful she appreciated his efforts as he took notice of the arrangement in her other hand.”I uh… read a book about it once.”

“Cool,” she said, biting her lip like she was dying to say something. “So I uh, brought them because I thought they were really nice and if I had asked you to the dance like I wanted, well… I would’ve brought you flowers so I thought….”

“You brought these for me?” Hunter asked breathlessly. 

“Yeah,” she said, suddenly flustered by her own actions. “But now I’m realizing I’m just giving you the same flowers you were going to give to me and that’s probably stupid so I’m sorry if I-.”

“It’s not stupid!” He said louder than he meant to. “I uh… thanks.” 

Willow giggled as she handed them to him. “So, you were gonna give them to me, right?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah well when I thought you had… well I know it’s customary not to show up empty handed so I wanted to be prepared.”

“And you said you read a book about flowers?”

“Uh yeah maybe a few.”

“So you picked those particular flowers for a particular reason then?”

He gulped. He knew she knew what the flowers meant, he had hoped she would know but hearing her say it aloud made him nervous. He wasn’t going to take it back, wasn’t going to deny it but he had picked these particular flowers to say what he didn’t have another way to say. 

“I guess I-I did yes.”

“Good,” she smiled. “Because I wanted to give them to you because they’re the same flowers I would have picked for you. Because I…  have also read a few books about them.”

“Oh yeah well that figures since you’re in the gardening club and you-uh,” he looked from the transformed bouquet (not before noting she had added a few flowers of her own to enhance it) back to her looking as though she was waiting. She was waiting for him.

Waiting for him to understand why they’d buy the same flowers. 

“Hunter, you know I like you, right?”

She said it so simply, so easily, so street-of-factly as though she was reminding him of the weather or day of the week. He had hoped everything was adding up but when he applied probability to the idea of Willow liking him he always left room for error. He was always 75% sure or 80% but never 100%. He knew his judgment was clouded by a selfish, confusing desire. He knew wanting wasn’t enough to make something so. But he didn’t know how else to turn the gamete, he didn’t see how just being himself was enough to win her over. 

But somehow it was. 

“I… suspected that maybe the feelings between us were… slightly more than platonic?” He said, unable to bring forth a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ because it just wasn’t simple for him, it just wasn’t. “That’s uh what the gardenias were meant to symbolize.” He wasn’t nearly as confident and cool and he had sought out to be, but that didn’t seem to bother Willow who was bouncing on her heels as the words bubbled up inside her, as though they couldn’t decide if she was about to fly away or burst as she delighted in his response and was eager to share more.

“So I was wondering if you’d want to come to my roller derby match later,” she said bashfully. “I know it’s kind an unusual date since we can’t really talk while I’m skating and it’s a little loud so I don’t know if you’d feel comfortable and it’s okay if you’re not but either way after we could go get ice cream and I know this spot in the park by the lake and I thought we could-.”

“A date?” Hunter gulped, acting as though the word had been lost to society until Willow rediscovered it. He wasn’t used to second chances, especially when he felt he hadn’t earned the first one, but once again Willow knew more.

“Uh yeah,” she said with a nervous giggle. “Tonight.”

“W-with me?”

“Uh-huh.”

“But… why?”

“Because I like you silly.”

“I know but… why?” he looked at her from behind the flowers, almost startled.

He could justify that Willow didn’t know him well enough to like him, but the side of him that she did know wasn’t exactly the most appealing. The students called him a narc, a nerd, annoying; things he couldn’t exactly argue with. But beneath that even he wasn’t exactly sure what he was, so did Willow see more or did she just not believe it? Sometimes he didn’t really like being himself so it was hard to keep up the charade that someone as vibrant and silly as Willow would like being with him more than what was necessary.

“I told you,” she said sweetly as she pushed past a rose to see him better. “I can tell you’re a warm and friendly person. I also know you’re smart and passionate and cute and I wanna know more about you and spend time with you.”

“Wow thanks,” he breathed, holding her gaze as everything else around them went silent. His instinct to mention how packed his schedule was as he had grown to instinctively do when he longed to do anything that couldn’t enrich his transcript. He didn’t want to talk her out of it or deny he liked the sound of it, he just didn’t know how to say that yet. “Y-you too.”

“Thanks,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I was also wondering if maybe you’d wanna wear my captain’s jacket.”

“Wear your jacket?” “Yeah, cause Skara has her boyfriend wear hers as a way to like show everyone they’re together so I thought maybe if you wanted to we could… do that… too.”

It took a moment for Hunter to process the request within the request but when he finally did, his eyes widened in wonder. “You want me to be your boyfriend?”

“Mhm-hmm,” she said with a smile and a nod.

It was everything all at once, Hunter was sure he must have wandered into a dream.

“And you want people to know I’m your boyfriend?”

“Mhm-hmm,” she repeated, this time more bubbly as she felt like she was about to leap out of her skin. “I uh I know it’s technically breaking dress code and it might be too soon so it’s okay if you don’t-.”

“I’ll wear it!” he said much louder than he meant to, as though worried that not answering right away would cause her to take it back. “I-I wanna wear it! Of course I will! Yes!”

“Okay!” Willow giggled as she bent down to fish it from her bag. She held it out to Hunter and he looked at it like it was a corner of the sky. She took the flowers back from him as he slipped the jacket over his uniform. He knew it was impractical and he would get too hot and surely be told by the first teacher who saw him to keep it in his locker but he didn’t care. The smell of fresh grass and jasmine filled his nose, and he felt giddy to be in the jacket he had seen her in so many times. His arms were longer than hers and the sleeves bunched higher up on his arms but it had always been long on her and it fell perfectly on him. It was pristine and he knew she had washed and carefully folded it with the intention to give it to him. 

“H-how do I look?”

“Cute!” she beamed as she smoothed the collar and Hunter felt he would melt. He meant alot to her. She didn’t care that talking to him could be considered social suicide, let alone so publicly declaring an advanced friendship between them. She had a confidence rooted in kindness that he hoped was contagious enough that he made her feel as safe and seen as he did in her perfect, peridot eyes. But as much as he was willing to publicly wear his feelings for her on his sleeve (well technically it was her sleeve since it was her jacket, right?) there were still things he felt more comfortable expressing in private. 

“Um…c-can I give you something of mine to wear?” he asked timidly, clearing his throat as he tried to shake the nerves to sound suave.

Willow nodded excitedly, having the exact Monday she had hoped for as Hunter reached inside to his own jacket as he fetched something small from it and quickly placed it in her hands.

“Your honor society pin?” Willow marveled as though he had given her a diamond. “Hunter, are you sure?”

“Yeah, uh Amity lets Luz wear hers and I always secretly thought it was kind of… romantic but if you think it's weird I can find something else-.”

“Are you kidding? I love it!” she declared as she held it close to her heart. “Thank you Hunter, this is so sweet! I’m gonna wait to put it on so it doesn’t get lost during the match. Can you hold onto it for me until then?”

“Of course,” he said, as he went to take it. “I’ll give it to you after you win.”

“Aw,” she said. “I think it’ll be my new lucky charm.”

He looked down as saw her hand had not left his, happily content to be held by his as her finger danced to intertwine with his and a very familiar idea reappeared in his head, as though the timing had been gifted to him. But the hallway wasn’t the right place.

“S-shoud I walk you to class then?” he transitioned. “I uh don’t want you to be late.”

“Well then,” she said with delight, reconfiguring their hands to link pinkies with his. “Let’s go.”

“Y-yeah let’s,” said Hunter happily as he allowed her to help him roll slowly down the hall. Her grip on him was gentle, but he felt secure in his link to her. 

“Um, actually I need to make a small detour first,” he said after a moment when they had escaped one of the more populated parts on the hallway.

“Oh, of course,” said Willow. “Did you forget something?”

“Uh, no I just wanted to see if I could get a vase for the flowers,” he said. “To keep them looking great, er m-maybe there’s one in the janitor’s closet?’

“You wanna look in the janitor’s closet?” Willow repeated. 

“Uh… yeah?”

“Hmmm… sounds good to me!” she said with a shrug as they turned the corner, and ever the gentleman he held the door open for her.

She knew he knew nothing (or at least, wasn’t able to focus on in this moment) the implications of quickly whisking her into a janitor’s closet before the bell rang. But she couldn’t wait to see his face when she told him.

He carefully closed the door behind them as Willow took in the sight of carefully organized buckets, mops, and large rolls of toilet paper. There was barely enough room in the closet for the both of them let alone a shelf of emergency vases.

“So… just need to get a vase, huh?” she asked playfully and Hunter quickly spun to face her, his face stung with guilt.

“Okay, to be honest I’m fairly certain there are no vases in here,” he admitted, unaware it was unnecessary. “Actually, I’m positive; I put them away myself after the student council luncheon.”

“So then, what are we here looking for?’

“Um well, actually I thought I could uh,” Hunter began as he cleared his throat. “G-give you uh something else for luck...too.”

“Oh yeah?” Willow asked, raising her eyebrow flirtatiously. “What did you have in mind?”

It sent Hunter over the edge as he let out a high, nervous laugh and hid his face in the bouquet, overwhelmed in a way that felt both new and familiar. He felt the subtle need to still check to see they were not being watched before he quickly darted down and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. His heart pounded as he pulled away just as quickly as she looked back at him with an absolutely smitten gaze.

“Hehe okay,” she giggled, her mind joyfully flooding with the reality that she couldn’t tease Hunter about people thinking they ducked into the closet to kiss and get him flustered at the  misunderstanding.Now she was the one flustered but there was no misunderstanding. 

“I just um thought it was fair ya know?” he said as though his actions needed a more complex explanation. “Since you gave me your jacket and the flowers and that’s two things I wanted to give you two things so you would know t-that I uh-.”

“Well hold on, technically you gave me the flowers first so you did give me two things so I actually owe you one,” she stood up on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek, lingering for a moment before returning to the ground. He smiled, feeling as though he was a part of the world’s best inside joke .

“Well you added flowers of your own so that can count as another thing,” he said, matching her tone, leaning down to press another kiss to her other cheek and lingering for a moment just as she did. Her face was soft and warm and somehow made him feel like a dream did.

“Actually, I should probably thank you for each flower,” said Willow, shuffling forward to take hold of his lapel as she brought him down to her level this time as her lips crashed into him like a wave, seeking to cover every inch of his doting, dumbstruck face as he surrendered his balance to her affections. He was more than fine collapsing into her as she decorated him with rapid kisses, as though she was bestowing one for every flower in her greenhouse.

Too enamored with each other they didn’t notice the door handle begin to turn. They didn’t notice the door had opened until their private, idyllic atmosphere of the closet was broken by the harsh fluorescent lights of the hallway.

They froze as they slowly turned their heads to see who stood in the doorframe. Hunter panicked, knowing how it would look to have a student council member littered with dress code violations sitting on a bucket as he forgot how to breathe because the prettiest girl in the whole school covered his face in kisses. What would they think?

Well, what beside ‘lucky him?’

More importantly, how would their reputations survive? He winced., knowing Willow must be mortified to be caught with him and having someone think-

“Oh, hi Gus!” Willow giggled, and Hunter could tell she found it more humorous than embarrassing. Hunter held his breath as he tried to read Gus’ expression, knowing if he was at risk of being blackmailed or sent to the principal’s office or if he’d tell Willow she was making a bad decision or if he’d-.

“Oh, so he said ‘yes?’” Gus asked nonchalantly, taking the jacket as a sign in addition to their… situation. 

“Yup!” Willow replied happily, adjusting her glasses.

“Cool, congrats guys,” said Gus, looking down to check the time and text Luz to let her know Willow wasn’t running late but was just… occupied. “Does he wanna sit with us at lunch?”

“Do you?” Willow asked, admiring the lipstick marks all over his face, a lipstick she may or may not have purposely worn in case an opportunity such as this presented itself. 

He nodded, unable to form worlds at the moment. 

“Cool, well the first bell just rang,” Gus let them know as he went to shut the door. “Don’t be late.”

“K, thanks!” called Willow. “Bye!”

“Did you uh wanna get to class then?” Hunter asked with a gulp, weirdly not caring about preserving his perfect attendance as he was captivated by the way even in the low watt lighting she reassembled an angel. He was suddenly aware of her hands still resting on his chest as though keeping him tethered to the earth and allowing him to linger in the moment just as her lips had once lingered on his. 

Please say no, please say no the less poetic part of his brain couldn’t help but think.

“We’ve got time still,” she said as though reading his mind as she wiped a smudge of raspberry gloss from his top lip before leaping up to assure the door was really locked this time. “I know the quickest way everywhere on skates.”

And she crashed into him again.

She didn’t mention that she may have memorized his schedule in order to increase her chances of running into him between classes after the first time he had threatened to write her up. Ever since she had been doodling his initials in hearts in the corner of her notebooks, finding delight in every rip and tear her mode of transportation granted her as she knew he would drop the facade to sew it up for her, treasuring every time she got him to crack a smile

He spent so much time trying to catch her that it had taken him so long to realize that she was waiting for him to catch up to her.

[thisbelongsto-nohbodys]

(For the sake of what today is...)

The Hexsquad: (comes home from a Friday the 13th movie marathon)

Gus: Boy, that was creepy. And I once woke up to the sound of someone being eaten alive.

Willow: I was skeptical about human horror, Luz, but the idea of someone who comes back from the dead just to murder other people... that Jason guy puts most criminals on the Boiling Isles to shame.

Amity: (trying to pass of her nervousness for flirtations) Uh, Batata, would you mind if I slept in your bed, tonight?

Luz: Hee-hee-hee. You guys are so silly. It's just a movie.

???: Hey, guys. How was the movie?

The Hexsquad: (turn around to see someone behind them wearing a hockey mask) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!! (run away screaming)

Hunter: (takes off the mask) Hey, where are you going?! You didn't let me tell you I joined a human hockey league!

Hunter would sometimes forget that he shouldn’t do the Flapjack teleport mid match, luckily ppl just think he’s fast but still he tries to avoid doing it in case any human catches on to magic

[albondiguilla007]

A short Hinny one shot cause I’ve been obsessed with @blvnk-art and the way they draw the pairing. Their Harry and Ginny are beautifully portrayed, so realistic and full of life, and with more chemistry than in the seven movies together. Go look them up, you’ll love their drawings.

“Race you to the Whomping Willow Potter”

“Your ruin Weasley”

Ginny sets off towards the stairs, dropping her bag and spilling all her books over the floor.

“Oi, what about your things!?”

She barely glances at me, continuing to run like a bloody maniac, but I see a hint of a smirk before a wave of red hair hides her face. I chase after her, ignoring the protests and surprised yelps of students walking in the halls as we rush through them.

“It’s a shame you’re still the Quidditch team’s Captain! You’re bloody slow Potter!”

I scoff, skipping the steps of the stairs two by two. I’d answer her, but I’m running low on energy as it is. Fuck, I do need to train more.

Her black robe billows after her, blazing long hair flying against the air coming in from the courtyard as she continues running. The startling blue sky blinds me for a few seconds, and I put a hand against my forehead to protect me against the light. The grass dances with the breeze, emerald green reflecting the rays of sun. My breath is coming in short gasps, but I don’t stop, stubbornly chasing after the sneaky little minx.

She’s ten feet away, sprinting towards the Quidditch Pitch as fast as she’s on air, laughing with mirth. I close the distance between us, five feet, three feet away until she’s at reach.

“Hah, got you”

She wriggles against my arms, groaning when I just tighten them against her waist. “It was a race, not a dare to catch me you idiot”

I laugh in the crook of her neck, smelling her coconut body wash and a hint of something sweet. Maybe a new perfume?

Her skin is smooth as a baby, and I unashamedly rub my nose against it. Ginny elbows my ribs and I let go with a startled yelp.

“You were enjoying that too much Potter”

The corners of her lips curl in a teasing smile, and for a moment I’m struck speechless by how beautiful she is. I’d been so blind, focusing on my best friend’s little sister to realize how fucking stunning she’d become on her own right. Brilliant, harsh and aggressively beautiful, Ginny Weasley was a force of nature.

“Well, you are my girlfriend after all”

She snorts and continues walking backwards, never taking her eyes off me. She has pretty eyes, I realize, almond shaped and a beautiful shade of brown.

The sun illuminates her skin, a jumble of red freckles covering the bridge of her nose and a bit of her cheeks.

“Not if you continue being that slow no, I can’t have my boyfriend embarrass me in front of the whole school”

I smirk with malice, happy to bring her down a peg or two. “Something you’d know about, Miss Eyes Green as Fresh Pickles Toads”

That makes her stumble, and I take the chance to close the gap between us and wrap a hand around her neck, warm with embarrassment under my fingers. Her lips are soft, and all that attitude vanishes in a second as she sighs against my lips, curling her hands around the lapels of my uniform. The low murmur of students chattering inside the castle reaches my ears, the cheerful tune of birds chirping and the rustling of leaves in the border of the Forbidden Forest.

I feel Ginny’s lips curve in a smile and I can’t help smiling back, even as we break apart and I rest my forehead against hers, breaths mingling together.