#at least i can rest when it’s done right WRONG i’ve got another essay due the week after and then two exams

[the-casbah-way]

i am so so fucking exhausted the urge to just stay in bed and sob is calling me but i must prevail because i have three days to work through a twenty five page bibliography and then write four thousand words on a topic i’ve never studied in my life let’s go

[theladyofdeath]

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 4}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

Word Count: 2550

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Apollo

– God of light, prophecy, inspiration, poetry, the sun, music and arts, medicine and healing

Aelin tried to convince herself that she got up and got ready two hours early for class because of her busy schedule. She kept telling herself it was for the meeting she had with her advisor, about a possible internship at the end of the semester.

She knew that both reasons, while extremely important, were full of shit. She knew she’d showered, blow dried and curled her hair for Rowan. It wasn’t that she was trying to impress him. She’d already done that and the chance she had to be with him had come and gone.

No, now it was about proving to him that even though this class may be a gen ed, she was taking it seriously.

Dropping the class had crossed her mind. She really didn’t need to take it, she could still find a different one to pick up. But she didn’t want to think about the sort of impression it would leave about her.

If there was anything to know about Aelin Galathynius, it was that she was not a quitter, nor did she run from her problems.

Or heartaches.

With one last look in the mirror, and a whistle from Lysandra, Aelin was out the door and hurrying across campus. She grabbed a coffee on the way, but avoided her usual place, knowing full well that Rowan enjoyed the same famous cafe that she did.

He wasn’t there yet when she got to the hall, but she took the same seat she had the class before.

She wondered if Rowan would be looking for her this time.

She quickly shook the thought away.

With her hot coffee on the corner of her fold up desk, she was pulling out her notebook and a pen, waiting anxiously for class to begin.

For him to walk through the door.

Apparently he liked to be right on the dot, though, because students continued to wander in, but he did not.

She was tapping her pen against her notebook, doing her best not to stare at the clock. She was just anxious for her day to start. It wasn’t that she wanted to see Rowan.

Professor Whitethorn, she amended in her head. She had to quit thinking of him as Rowan. She couldn’t think of him like that anymore, his body pressing into hers, lips on her neck, as he—

Shaking her head, Aelin sighed and suddenly realized that the rest of the class had hushed. She was so focused on reprimanding herself for her highly inappropriate thoughts that she hadn’t noticed him come through the door and begin setting up for class. When she dared to glance towards the front, she found his eyes on her. He quickly looked away, going back to his laptop and setting up the PowerPoint on screen.

Maybe he hadn’t been looking at her.

Maybe it had all been in her mind.

But she didn’t think it had been.

He had been watching her.

“Happy Thursday, class,” he began, as the title page of his presentation flashed onto the board. “Glad to see you all showed up again. Must mean my first class didn’t suck.” Quiet laughter thrummed through the room. Aelin couldn’t muster a laugh, though. “On Tuesday, we covered the basics. So, today… Sorry, we’re doing that again.”

More laughter, especially from the pretty, flirty girls up front.

Aelin couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

Which, when she settled her eyes back on Rowan, he definitely saw.

Come on, get your shit together, she chastised herself. With her back straightened, she gave him her full attention.

She took dutiful notes, but his slides didn’t hold much in the way of information. They were mostly headers, with a few bullet points. Most of the important information, information she knew would be critical for homework or exams, came straight from Rowan’s mouth.

It was clear that he loved mythology, that it wasn’t just a class his aunt had tossed his way and told him to figure it out. He was a trove of knowledge and she noticed he had a habit of going on slight tangents when he got going on a topic he was clearly interested in.

After a student asked him to clarify what he meant about Hercules not being Zeus’ only son, he ended up talking for nearly twenty minutes about what the beloved Disney movie had gotten wrong. Aelin had stopped taking notes and was watching him go on and on about how Hades, while god of the underworld, was not necessarily a villain. He just had a job to do. A job that had rules that must be followed, or the consequences could damn not only him, but others involved. His eyes found hers again and the amused smile on her face fell as she made the correlation between their own situation and the story.

They held each other’s gazes for far longer than was appropriate, and Rowan cleared his throat, going back to the PowerPoint, and the  predetermined lesson plans he’d made, which didn’t include children’s movie breakdowns.

She watched him.

She listened.

And she found it all fascinating. 

Rowan peeked at the clock after going on and on, and stilled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I guess I’ll end there. There is an assignment due by tomorrow evening. You can find and submit it online. It’s an opinion piece. I want a little insight as to why you were so interested to take this class, or what you’ve found fascinating so far.” He sat on his desk, his legs hanging over the side, his feet nearly touching the ground as he leaned back on his palms. Aelin found it charming. “You’re going to write a short essay telling me of your favorite deity. It could be one I’ve talked about so far, or one I haven’t. It’s your choice. But, tell me why they are your favorite. Give me a little depth. And, remember, this is a college course. Grammar counts.”

The clock struck nine-thirty and everyone began packing up. Aelin had been so captivated by his voice that she had to snap herself back to reality.

She quickly packed up her bag, alongside the other students around her. She noticed then how young they all were, and she was willing to bet that she may be the only senior on the roster. As she was descending the stairs, she found Rowan’s eyes on her again, but he looked away as his attention was taken, thanks to the group of girls who’d been sitting in the front row. She heard vague questions of whether they could all write about Aphrodite, since they all related to her.

The scoff Aelin thought she’d kept to herself had apparently been out loud, since not only Rowan looked at her as she passed, but so did the three girls. With his attention on her again, she decided to give him a little wave.

“See you later, Professor Whitethorn.”

If there was some extra sway to her hips, it wasn’t on purpose.

At least that’s what she told herself.

Two and a half hours later, Aelin was starving. She’d just gotten out of an extremely complicated lab and she could barely focus over the growling of her stomach. Twice, the instructor had looked over at her, half expecting to find a dog stashed under the table she was working at.

So when the class let out, she was hurrying toward the cafeteria ready to get a salad from the salad bar and a big ass slice of pizza.

It was all about balance. 

As she was waiting in line to fill her plate with salad, she heard a voice behind her.

“Are you actually getting lettuce or just filling your plate with ham, cheese, and croutons?” 

Aelin looked over her shoulder to find Chaol, her ex, suppressing a smile.

Aelin chuckled. “If it’s the same price, you may as well pile up on the good stuff.” 

Chaol gave her a small smile. “Fair enough. It’s good to see you, Aelin. You look good.”

Things hadn’t ended the best between her and Chaol, but that had been just after freshman year. At least now when they ran into one another, they could have nice little conversations like this one.

No hard feelings.

“You too,” she said, and he did. He’d been in an accident the year before. They weren’t sure he was going to walk again. In all honesty, it was just good to see him on his feet.

“How long until your class?” He asked, sliding his tray along behind hers.

She glanced down at her watch. “About forty five minutes. You?”

“This is my long break,” he sighed. “I’ve got an hour and a half, but didn’t feel like leaving campus. Want to have lunch with me?”

“Sure.” Her smile wasn’t forced, it was easy and she was glad they could even do this, when three years again, they could barely be in the same room.

“I assume you’re getting a piece of pizza after this,” Chaol said with a smirk, nodding towards her plate. “So I’ll grab us a table while you get the rest of your lunch.”

She scoffed but nodded, and went off to get a slice of pizza. When she ordered her pizza, she also got a slice of cheesecake. It was his favorite, something she hadn’t forgotten, but it didn’t hurt that she liked it, too.

Finding him in the cafeteria, she sat down at the table across from him. “How’s Yrene doing?”

He blushed, and Aelin had to admit it was adorable. After his accident, he’d fallen for his physical therapist, and she was just as smitten with him. It must have been all the one-on-one sessions, because Chaol had never been one to let someone in. Aelin had met Yrene early in her med classes, but Yrene had specialized in PT and graduated in less than three years, taking as many classes as she could manage and even studying through the summers as well.

“It’s going good,” he said, at last. “We, uh, just moved in together, actually.”

Aelin lifted a brow. “That was fast.”

Chaol shot her a look.

Aelin laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant, good for you. I like Yrene. A lot. You two are good together.”

Chaol cleared his throat before taking a bite of his salad. “Thanks.” 

Aelin chuckled, taking a bite of her pizza.

Chaol blinked. “What?”

“You get so uncomfortable when it comes to feelings,” she said. “Always have.”

His eyes narrowed at her. “That’s not true.”

Aelin stopped mid-chew and raised a brow.

Even Chaol couldn’t help but chuckle at the expression. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. What about you? Seeing anyone?”

Aelin hesitated, then said, “No.”

A slow grin appeared on Chaol’s mouth. “Didn’t sound so sure about what one.”

Aelin shrugged. “Better be nice or I’m not sharing this magnificent cheesecake with you.”

Holding up his hands in placation, Chaol went back to his salad. Rowan was a dangerous topic, one she wouldn’t share with anyone but Lysandra, so she summed it up quickly. “Met someone I thought I hit it off with. Turns out we didn’t work.”

He slowly nodded. Aelin knew he’d had a couple failed relationships between her and Yrene. “I get it, I’m sorry. Still sucks.”

Shrugging again, she turned to her salad. “It happens. Not a big deal. So if you’re living with Yrene, does that mean you and Dorian broke up? Or is he playing house with you, too?”

Chaol leveled her with a look. Chaol and Dorian had been best friends long before they came to the University of Orynth. They were both from Adarlan, both trying to get away from overbearing fathers, and decided college across the country was the way to do it. They’d been roommates every year and Aelin couldn’t even imagine Chaol living with anyone except Dorian. But now he was. “He moved into an apartment with Manon this semester when I moved in with Yrene.”

Aelin blinked. “Blackbeak? He moved in with Manon Blackbeak?”

Nodding, Chaol went on. “Apparently, they’ve been dating for about a year, without anyone noticing.”

Something in the way he said it told Aelin that he had noticed, but when Dorian had his mind set on something, there was no stopping him. And apparently, he’d decided to date one of the most terrifying women on campus.

Aelin’s response was eloquent. “Wow.”

Chaol grinned. “I like it when you’re caught off guard. It’s satisfying.”

With a scoffed she nudged his leg with the toe of her sneaker. “Well, I don’t. Dorian will be getting a very angry phone call this afternoon.”

“I’ll be sure to give him a warning,” Chaol promised.

Aelin chuckled, taking the last bite of her pizza. “It’s good to see you all happy, though. Really.”

Chaol’s eyes softened. “Thanks, Aelin.”

She nodded. “Even if I am terrified that Dorian will get eaten alive.”

Chaol laughed, and she had forgotten how nice Chaol’s rare, hearty laugh was.

She meant it. She was so happy for them, both of them. It was interesting how things changed over the course of a few short years.

Their conversation continued, as did the laughs, and before she knew it, Aelin glanced down at her watch. She had less than fifteen minutes to haul ass back to the nursing building for her next class. Chaol, who had much longer to sit with nothing to do, assured her that he could handle her trash and told her to get to class. With a hug, and a promise that they’d have dinner soon, all of them, even Manon, Aelin was hurrying out of the cafeteria building.

Somehow, the entire time she’d been having lunch with Chaol, she hadn’t noticed the set of pine green eyes watching her.

Rowan’s own break had been at the same time as hers, but the gen ed building was much closer than wherever she was having to run off to, so he had longer to sit and— there was no denying it— brood. They were halfway across the room, so he couldn’t hear any of their conversation. He had no clue who the tall man was she smiled at so often, but clearly they were very familiar with each other with how easily they talked. And he made her laugh. A lot.

Rowan wasn’t sure why that was what grated on his nerves the most, but it unsettled him.

Seeing Aelin with someone else, someone clearly her own age, it all unsettled him. He didn’t like it. Almost as much as her parting words in class had.

See you later, Professor Whitethorn.

It’s like she was mocking him, yet at the same time, she clearly wasn’t. She was doing exactly as he’d asked of her, seeing him as her professor, not as her boyfriend.

No, he reprimanded himself. Not boyfriend. Hookup.

They’d had sex one time, that didn’t give either of them any claim over the other. It was a hookup and nothing more. And she was his gods-damned student.

She was off limits, in every way possible.

Yet he couldn’t figure out why seeing her with someone else, someone she should clearly be interested in instead of him, had him seeing red.

[justallofmyfandoms]

Revenge is best served Small

Reader x Fred Weasley

Reader x George Weasley

NO TWINCEST!!

SMUT! SMUT! SMUT!

(Just to make this less awkward on all of us, yes I am clearly going through some stuff, and yes everyone enjoys what happens to them in this, even if it's reluctantly. Nothing unconsensual. 6,486 words)

[There’s a comment on this post that perfectly summarises it: “i have no idea what just happened to me all i know is that i will never be the same after reading this” so... read at your own risk my dudes, I am so sorry]

You slam a fist into the common room desk, glaring down at your potions homework with enough anger to perform the killing curse on it. Or maybe crucio would be better, just so the homework can suffer all the same pains it's inflicting on you.

A chair at the table scraps against the floor with someone plonking themselves on it. You look up to see Fred Weasley, leaning over the desk to stare down at your paper, "Having trouble with your potions essay?" He asks, evidently just to piss you off because it's pretty obvious you were.

"Bugger off, Weasley. We can't all pay zero attention during class and still get perfect grades" you focus back on your work, but not fast enough to miss Fred's shit eating grin.

"Still mad I got a better grade on our end of semester test?"

"No!" You snap back, perhaps a little too quickly. It made the ginger chuckle. You and the twins had been good friends since first year, but it infuriated you to no end every time they got a good grade, because you just knew it was all talent and no effort.

The twin crossed his arms and leant them on the table, scooting closer to you, "Not that I don't love the look of anger on your face, but why does it annoy you so much? You've been going on about this for six years"

"It doesn't matter, I just wanna get this stupid essay over with!" you complain, throwing your quill on the desk, "Where's your brother, anyway? He said he would help me."

Fred pats your head and sighs, "Ditched by your own boyfriend? There's tragic..." You knew he was just being a prick, Fred always did enjoyed teasing you, but you hadn't seen George all day. It was beginning to worry you. Besides, you two had made it a tradition to do your potions homework together ever since third year.

"He actually sent me here to apologise. He's at tonight's party up in Ravenclaw tower. The ol' sod's drunk a bit too much to help out I'm afraid"

You sit up and frown, the anger being pushed to the back of your mind out of newfound sadness, "Oh... he could have at least told me he was going to the party..."

Fred nods sympathetically, but eventually grins and scoots closer, "In the meantime, how about a deal?" You'll be getting whiplash from all these emotions. First anger, then hurt, and now Fred was making you highly suspicious. He has that expression he gets when dreaming up a crazy plan.

"If you help me with a little scheme I've concocted, I'll help you finish your essay" he continues since the only reaction you initially gave was a squint.

"What kind of scheme?"

He drums the table, bitting back a smile that might warn you off, "I've come up with a new product idea, but in order to make it, I need a very rare ingredient that can only be found in one place"

You sigh, resting your cheek against your raised fist, "Snape's supply closet..."

He points at you like in charades, "Exactly!"

"How do I know you'll actually help me? Making a deal with you is a bit like making a deal with the devil"

"We'll get the essay done tonight!" He declares, spinning the paper to face him, and picking up a nearby quill, "Then tomorrow, you'll help me get the potion"

After a fair amount of consideration, you nod, "Alright, deal!"

"Remind me again what the plan is?" You and Fred were stood in the women's bathroom on the first floor, a bathroom you generally tried to avoid as it was occupied by a particularly annoying ghost called Moaning Myrtle. She didn't seem to be revealing herself though, which you assumed had something to do with Fred teasing her about her nickname and the... other connotations "moaning" has.

Fred took a small vial from his trouser pocket. The contents were green and bubbling, "First, I'll drink this shrinking potion, then you'll take me in your robe pocket all the way to Snape's classroom and put me on the third shelf up next to his supply closet. I'll sneak in through the hole my brother and I drilled there years ago, grab the bottle and get out!"

"You mean you and George have done this before?" you asked, watching as he set the bottle down on the edge of the sink, taking off his robe to hang it over the cubicle wall

He turned back to watch him roll the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, "Yeah, every now and then if we need tough to find ingredients"

"And what exactly do I do?"

"Well, while I'm getting the bottle, you keep an ear out for Snape, then when I get out, you grab me and the bottle, put me in your robes and bring us back here so I can have my regrowth potion" he pulls another vial out of his pocket which is red and shiny.

"Sound good" you say, while he plonks the potion back into his pocket, and pops off the cork on the shrinking one.

"Bottoms up" he says, and downs the contents. The second he does, Fred begins to shrink! His clothes, thankfully, shrink down in size with him, until finally, he was no bigger than your pinky.

"Wow!" You exclaim, squatting down, "This is super dangerous. I could step on you."

"Please don't..." Fred mutters, his pitch the exact same despite his small size, just a bit quieter due to the distance and size of his mouth and all that. Damn, TV and movies have lied to you. A look of mild horror suddenly adorns Fred's face as he pulls something out from his trouser pocket. It's so small, you had trouble realising it was his regrowth potion, "Oh bugger! I forgot about that..."

You were tempted to lie down on your stomach and be as close as you could to eye level, but you doubted that would be very sanitary on the bathroom floor, "What's wrong?"

"I just realised I let the potion shrink with me! Now it won't work! It'll only grow me back to the size of a foot, if we're lucky"

"Speaking from experience?"

"Unfortunately." he shivers, "But it's okay, we'll just have to stop off at my room afterwards to get some more. I always make extra if I can afford to"

"Well that's good. Ready to go?"

"Absolutely" he held up his arms and you scooped him up like you would a wand. You got to your feet and were about to place him in your pocket when you noticed you still had your potions essay folded up inside. Fred had helped you finish it last night, the legend. Took you until 4 am to finish writing it.

You put him in your breast pocket instead, for fear that your robes might fly around too much and he might fall out, or that someone might bump into you and squash him. The breast pocket was at least hidden and safe. Besides, there were still two layers separating him from your actual boobs.

You opened the door and peaked your head through, checking to see if anybody was there. Nobody. Brilliant. Hurrying down the cobbled hallway, you B lined to the stairs leading down to the dungeons, and hurried to the classroom door. You and Fred had a free period right now, so that would explain why it seemed you and he were the only ones not in class. Despite how thankful you were for Fred's help, you wouldn't have skipped lessons to do this, it's risky enough as it is. Fast walking now, you peeped your head into Snape's office, where beyond it lay the door to his private stash.

"He better not come, Fred, or I'll squash you"

"Don't worry, he's in his lesson! Only got one potions teacher"

You thought this over and realised that yeah, there is only one... why the fuck do they only have one teacher for each subject? Do they get breaks? That's unlikely seeing as they have to teach all four houses in all seven years over the span of only five days a week. That's mental that is. Regardless, you would have the time to ponder this later, for now you had a potion to steal. You crept into Snape's office and shut the door, pulling out your wand and enchanting "Colloportus" to lock it behind you.

Fred really knew what he was talking about, because there were indeed shelves next to the closet door. The third one up was even covered with books, and when you grabbed Fred out from your pocket and plonked him on the shelf, he pointed to the dusty copy of 'The Moral Implications of Love Potions' and you took it out to reveal a hole behind it big enough for tiny Fred, “This looks like an interesting read..." you mutter, flipping over to read the blurb. There was a mini scoff, and by mini you mean it was produced by a mini person.

"Right, well, you have fun reading that, I'll search for the potion. Be back in a second" and he was off, disappearing through the hole. You sigh, fidgeting with anxiety at possibly getting caught. Doesn't make sense though, Snape is in class, he has no reason to come in here. When do lessons end anyway? You glance around for a clock but don't find any. Serves you right for not wearing a watch... would a watch even work at Hogwarts?

You flipped open the book and began reading a random page: Dr Eglantine proposed the following moral dilemma: if two people love each other but are too afraid to admit to one another, is it wrong for one of them to drug the other with love potion? Wizarding philosophers are torn on this issue, and when intercourse is involved, the grey area becomes even larger—

There was a loud bang from outside, which made your heart drop. You scurry over to the door, pressing your ear against the cool wood, holding your breathe in hopes of hearing better. The sound of students filled your ears, but not just a few students having a free period, but a whole herd of them. That could only mean one thing: class had ended... Oh fuck!

"Fred!" you cry out in the quietest panic you can muster, scurrying over to the hole, "Snape is coming."

"Almost... there!" Fred called between grunts, emerging with the bottle. You snatched it up, preparing to despose of it into your pocket when Fred raised a valid argument, "Don't put it in there! Snape will check your pockets when he finds you here!" He began downing his second potion, growing only to the size of a regular sized hand, "Damn"

"Oh, right" you scan your body for another hiding place, then the thought came to you. You shove the vial up your shirt and into your bra.

"Great, now me!" Fred exclaims, raising his arms up.

"I can't put you in my bra! You're too big, he'll see you!" You scoop him, holding his torso like a toothbrush.

He stares up at you in stunned confusion, "Really? That was what was wrong with that plan?"

You realised you ought to have said 'no you pervert I'm not letting you touch my boobs' but now wasn't the time to curse yourself for it. Your heart was hammering with fear, inspecting your body for somewhere to stash him. The doorknob rattled, and the sickeningly familiar tone of Snape's voice cursed that it was locked. Your time was up, there was only one thing for it! You pulled away the elastic of your skirt and stuck him down there,

“WOAH—!" He yelped, hair practically standing on end.

"Just hold onto the elastic along the outside and we should be fine!" You put him onto your outer right thigh, knowing full well that a pair of shorts and a pair of underwear and a whole thigh were separate him from... that.

"Alohamora!" the door swung open just as you were putting the book back, and there stood Snape, in all his emo glory. He froze, clearly having not expected to find anyone inside. Once the shock had left his system, he straightened up and glared at you, “What exactly do you think you are doing?" his nasally voice grilled, doing nothing good for your nerves, which were in absolute tatters at the moment.

"I was looking for you, w-when someone locked me in the class" you scramble, the lie just about the worst you could come up with. You had to remind yourself that Fred was on the outside of your thigh. Considering he was in your skirts at all, that was the most innocent position he could be in. All he had to do was hold on to the elastic of your shorts and you should be fine!

"Why?" he trudged further into the classroom.

"Why was I looking for you or why did someone lock me in the class—?"

"Why were you looking for me?" His booming voice told you that you were on thin ice.

"Ah yes, well, I... I was having trouble with the essay assigned for tomorrow, and thought maybe you could help me"

Snape closed the door and came to lean on his large desk, "Do you really expect me to believe that one of my students, who has never once asked a question in six years, is now asking a question?"

You frown, so suddenly insulted that you almost forgot about Fred on your leg, "Professor Snape, I ask questions all the time"

"Oh, how unmemorable you are then" he sneers, making you fume, "Regardless, I'm going to need to search your pockets"

You sighed, "Yes, sir"

He stalked over to you, holding out a hand for your robes. You pushed the sleeves off each shoulder, removing it, and dumped it into his palm. As he began to examine it, you felt Fred's shoes scrapping against your skin. It's as though he's trying desperately to find a foothold, no doubt still exhausted from having to push the bottle. If he falls, not only will you be caught, but Fred could get seriously injured!

Again, you knew what you had to do but hesitated to do it. As subtly as you could, you extended the elastic of your skirt, took Fred out, then plonked him into your shorts. His entire body went flush against yours, no doubt the skin tight shorts were crushing him. As long as there was no more risk of him falling... Hopefully it wasn't suffocating him though.

"If it's too tight, move" you hissed, keeping your eyes trained on Snape, who unfortunately heard you.

"What did you say?"

"I said—" you took a sharp breath, feeling Fred's back sink further into the fat of your thigh as he pushed away the area of fabric suffocating him, "If it's too tight, move" you repeated loudly for the two men in the room. "The pockets get a bit stuck sometimes so you have to jostle it around a bit" you added to give fake context to an instruction that wasn't even meant for Snape.

The shadowy teacher was evidently confused, but decided to ignore your outburst. Meanwhile, you could feel Fred inching along the front of your thighs, moving closer to your core. This was fine, as you didn't exactly want him to asphyxiate in your shorts, that would be a tragic way to go. You did hope, however, that he wouldn't overshoot his target, and fall into the abyss between the crotch and pant leg. Just as you had thought it, you felt the man slip. You gasped, pressing your legs a little closer together, enough for him to reach out and grab the first piece of fabric he could get his hands on. Unfortunately for the both of you, that piece of fabric were your panties. You wondered whether he knew what he was doing, when he began to scramble onto it, lying down flat onto the crotch like a hammock. Your question was quickly answered by the sensation of his arms sticking into your folds, and the subsequent wriggling of regret.

Sucking in a deep breath, you had to grip the nearby desk with all your might to stop a loud moan escaping your lips. Regardless of how bizarre and awful this situation was, having anything rub against your clit was an arousal waiting to happen. Poor guy must have though those were your shorts he grabbed before... You were just about to dig in and help, when Snape extended your robes back to you. You'd have to walk, with mini Fred mushed into you vagina, all the way to grab it. Praying he might forgive you one day, you stepped forward, effectively compromising Fred's escape, trapping him between your knickers and crack. Talk about getting stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"Very well, I will take a look at your homework" and he rounded the desk, unfurling the essay he had taken from your pocket and sitting down in preparation to help. You swallow, approaching the table as he skimmed through it. He paused for a moment to look up, "Well, sit down" he ordered.

Staring down at the chair, you gulped. Every time you sit down during class, the skin tight shorts you wear, under your Hogwarts skirt, ride up into your ass. Having that happen right now is about as undesirable as they come, "Um, I'd rather not, if that's alright with you"

He blinked and looked back down at your work, "Well anyway, the beginning of your essay seems promising." You smiled, that was the part you wrote by yourself. Just wait until he gets to the part Fred helped you with. There were things he told you on the topic that you swore you had never heard before, you'll look like such an expert! Speaking of, the unfortunate blighter had given up on his attempts to leave, probably worried that his efforts might be thwarted again by your moving thighs. He was now using his hands and knees to keep himself pushed away from you. If you thought about it hard enough, you could convince yourself Fred was just a bumpy pad with a tuft of hair on the end... that moved.

Alright now body, I know you're an animal that listens to its instincts more than its brain, but please don't respond the same way you usually do when something— anything is pressing against you. You thought to yourself. We are not creating any new weird kinks today, thank you very much. Besides, the poor guy is going through enough as it is.

"You think Felix Felicis was created by Felix Williams... and that it contains balm, angel's trumpet, bitter root, and a single strawberry cooked under a full moon" he looked up from your work, pinning you with an expression of cold unamusement.

He must be testing you. Fred's a prankster but he isn't a dick... most of the time. He wouldn't. He couldn't! "Yes...?"

"Your Wolfsbane... does it contain any other nonsense ingredients I should know about?"

You froze, as did the guy in your pants. He must have heard, and Merlin have mercy he was going to pay for what he'd done!

This was just like that incident in fourth year all over again! You were in the showers after a quidditch match and Fred snuck in and stole your clothes and towel. When you realised you would had to run butt fucking naked all the way to your room, you were absolutely furious. Fred was lounging in the common room, along with twenty or so other people, and they all watched as you went gunning for the stairs. George felt awful, having not known his brothers prank, and offered to obliviate anyone who talked about it. It was then you realised Fred could be kind of a dick, and George was the man for you.

Fascinated by just how much Fredrick Weasley had fucked you over yet again, you decided to plop down on the chair opposite Snape. The moment you did, the skin tight shorts became skin tight. Fred's entire body went flush against yours, sending a delicious zap up your spine that attempted to summon a moan you coughed back, “Sorry, I wasn't trying to insult you with my work... I got a friend to help and it seems he was just taking the piss" Fred was moving, his chest bumping and smoothing over your clit. You had to actively try not to squeeze your thighs around him to increase the pressure.

George had bought you a dildo once as a "joke" (he just wanted to watch you wank yourself off, the kinky bugger) and you had run it between your folds, but that pailed in comparison to this. This was far better. Fred is made up of so many intricate parts, each of them squirming against you. His legs, for example, were kneading the source of your arousal. His shoes were in there now, using it as a foothold to try and push his way out. It was heavenly.

"Now I might remember you, as the girl with a poor judge of character" Snape interjected, pulling you out of your sexual haze. If the context were different, you might have gotten mad, but you couldn't bring yourself to at the moment. Not while you were getting oh so sweet revenge on a certain someone, "Well, for starters, dragon bone isn't an ingredient in any of these, so we might as well cross that off the list—" he took his red ink and began marking your paper. His voice became a distant drone in the background as you disassociated once against, focusing on how Fred had began shimmying his way to freedom. If only you could quicken his pace. If only you could rock your hips and fuck yourself against him. You weren't available to move, but he certainly was.

Leaving the one hand there on the desk, to rest your chin against, the other snuck under the table and under the hem of your skirt and shorts. Your fingers hovered above him, a little unsure what to do, until the index finger took initiative and pressed down onto his back through the pants. If he wasn't mushed against you before, he sure as hell was now. His hands slap your folds, but you could feel his head angled up for air. He should be fine.

You experiment by pushing him up. There his chin is triggering the most sensitive nerves of your clit! You roll your hips to savour it, using your thumb to squash his head down and create a more prominent friction. The round nature of his face and bumps making up his features created the most delicious rub. You had to loop your feet behind the desk's legs in order to stop your thighs from crushing him. When he slaps you for air, you reluctantly moved your thumb and pushed his body down. Now his feet were teasing your entrance with the sensation of being filled. You sat down more firmly onto your chair to shove him deeper inside of you. You pushed him up again, then down, up, down, repeating the gesture while his limbs squirmed, awakening new flesh with every swipe. Your middle finger joined the index's perch on his back to pick up the pace. You bit your lip and sucked a deep breath through your nose to push down all the noises that were bubbling to the surface. The only thing that could have moulded you any better than Fred would have been a literal mould. Even then, it wouldn't have been nearly so fun to hump.

You were now rolling him against you in deep tight circles. Your hips were swaying in time, and as much as you wanted to use your whole hand to rub him madly against you, you thought Snape might notice your entire arm thrusting under the table. Unconsciously, your thighs tighten around him, sucking him almost up into you. You lull your head back and arch into him, sighing in bliss. When Snape looked up, you snapped your head back down and froze, biting your fist in order to stop yourself whining in disapproval.

"Does that make sense?"

"Yes sir" what on earth were you agreeing to? You hadn't the foggiest.

"Then don't waste my time with useless garbage like this again. If you haven't produced a coherent, serious essay by tomorrow, I'll be deducting twenty points from your house. Now go!" He pointed to the door.

You had half a mind to snap back, but thought: to hell with him! You had things that needed your immediate attention, and no hooked nose, greasy hair, middle aged virgin was going to ruin that for you! “Very well, thank you sir" you stood up, and to your eternal disappointment, it loosened the strain of your clothes to unstick Fred from your cunt.

Exiting the class, you were devastated to find the hallway packed with students ready for their next potions lesson. The women's bathroom was just around the corner and up the stairs. All you had to do was get to it. You sped walked around the students, opting to push some aside rather than do any fancy footwork and likely squash the man inside of you. From the lack of movement, you guessed he had probably made peace with the situation. Luckily for you though, the movement of your walking kept banging him against you, and you had to stop yourself from dropping to the floor right then and there to grind him furiously against you.

When finally you had made it to the bathroom, casting "Colloportus" on the door for some privacy, you froze at the sight of someone stood inside with their back to you. You recognised those ginger locks straight away.

"George?" you called. He let go of the robe he was examining over the cubicle door and beamed, bounding up to you with all the excitement of a puppy.

"Darling! I've been looking for you everywhere, where have you been?"

What to say, what to say. You doubted rubbing your shrunk brother against my vagina in revenge would be largely acceptable, so you opted to white lie, "Oh, I needed Snape to help me with my potions essay"

George frowned, "Why'd you do that? I could have helped you. Can't imagine ol' hook nose was as fun as me"

"Well maybe if you weren't at that party last night—"

"What party?"

Judging by Fred's immediate scramble to break free, you imagined George was about to tell you something that would spell out very bad news for his twin. To stop his escape, you move a hand behind your back to fist your underwear and hoist it up, making it impossible to give way, "Fred told me you were at the Ravenclaw party last night..."

George's chocolate brown eyes widen in horror, immediately replaced by a scowl as he looked up to curse the air. Little did he know he actually should have been glancing down if he wanted to curse his brother. His squirming against you was making this entire thing leagues better, "What? Oh that prick! I was sick last night with a cold and sent him to apologise to you because I didn't want you catching it while Madam Pomfrey's sweets took effect"

Your cunt was fluttering in anticipation for what long and hard revenge you were about to take. Fred was scrambling so wildly, you couldn't wait to get down to business, "That asshat. He said you were drunk and convinced me to steal some stupid potion with him"

George's anger multiplied, "Bloody hell! I told him not to do that"

"What do you mean?" You were genuinely curious, but your body had literally no care in the world. It was hoisting your pants even higher to keep Fred glued there, wriggling your hips as your breathing became laboured.

George didn't seem to notice, "He was planning on making a thing of love potion with it. Told him it was a stupid idea and he was perfectly popular enough to get anyone he wanted without it. He's got hundreds of girls and guys in the past, I can't think of who he thought he needed to trick..." you consider it for a moment. That was a very good question, it's strange for Fred to care so much about someone... but this could be left for another time.

You hook your foot behind George's leg and brought it forward to wedge it in between yours. Without warning you hopped up and felt Fred immediately sink into your flesh. You doubled over, gripping George's shoulders, and moaning to savour the feel of being entirely and completely touched. George had to brace his hands against the door either side of your head to stop himself from falling over. In surprise rapture, he watched as you were already so unravelled. Finally, the surface you needed. Twins were supposedly two halfs of a whole, and never before had that sentiment rung so true. His leg was the missing component that pushed Fred so absolutely into you, no margin of error. All of him was rubbing against you now as you began humping without mercy.

You thrust yourself forwards and backwards, side to side, around in broad circles. Your folds accommodated him so well, stretching to make sure he always stayed between them. At times you were almost sure you could feel them curling around him, to keep him there as a permanent feature. Tempting indeed, he certainly made walking more fun, and imagine the possibilities in History of Magic. He could get you off under the table without anyone having a clue!

Fred was becoming slick with your arousal, lubricating him into slipping and sliding into usually unattainable flesh you never knew yearned for touch. And because of George's pressure under him, his hold on those neglected areas of your cunt was positively sinful. You throw your head back, your hands on George's shoulders, tugging up and down to massage yourself against Fred.

"What is that bump in your pants?" he finally questioned, having snapped out of his shock.

"Just a sex toy" you reply earnestly, making no alterations to your position.

There was a sudden sting on your clit that made you yelp and stop for a moment. Fred must have bit you... and it was incredible. You wondered whether you could get him to do it again, "It's loves being in there while I fuck myself with it. A tool for my pleasure" You were bouncing up and down like a rubber ball, poking him to react. He still wasn't doing anything to participate, but it was fine. You were doing more than enough for the both of you. All he needed to do was be there as you pounded yourself onto him. Then, your continuous lifting and applying onto him made his shoulder lodge so deep inside of you, you let out a howling moan, crushing George's lips to yours in order to muffle the sheer volume of the scream. He pulls your bottom lip into his mouth, urgently swiping his tongue against yours. You moan and put everything you have into the kiss, allowing him to dive in and taste you. George's lips began to wander, bitting, nibbling and sucking his way to your pulse. His hands came up to hastily undo your tie and shirt, pushing them aside to reveal your bare stomach. As he works your skin into his mouth, creating a glorious love bite on the swell of your neck, his palms fan out across your stomach. You take a sharp breath, as he caressed towards your bra, grinning against you when he notices it's the one he got you for Valentine's Day that unhooks at the front. Lucky coincidence, all your other ones were just dirty.

"I leave you for one night and you become a horny mess" George teases, his hands gliding down your sides to grip your hips. He nudged your legs apart, spreading you wider over your toy. Although he didn't take over the pace, he certainly sped you up. God you could have kissed him for knowing exactly how to whind up your pleasure. A shame then that his mouth was currently occupied with other things. You tangle your hands into his hair as he strokes your nipple with his tongue, pulling it into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks to suck it hard. Your head lulled back to angle yourself further into him, whimpering at how close your climax was.

Seemed Fred was just as desperate to get it over with as you were. He was now doing everything in his power to jack you off. He had somehow managed to grasp your clit between his hands, and paired with your thrusting it created a borderline unnatural amount of pleasure. You were screaming with moans. But somehow more importantly than all that, he had his leg plunged inside of you.

That was it. The idea had been toying in your mind this whole time, but now you knew you needed him inside if you. "Wait a second George" you breathed, perching yourself a little higher in order to stick a hand down your panties, pinching Fred so his arms were trapped by his sides, and sliding him, feet first, through your entrance, until nothing showed of him but his head.

Head back, mouth open in an overjoyed groan, something in you snapped. You didn't even have to thrust him in and out. He was twisting, his arms and legs were flailing in the little space available to them. The walls were hugging his every curve, likely trying to suction him to the back. It was the combination of George flicking your nipple with his tongue and Fred massaging your insides that had you finally unravelling. Hot, slick, arousal came dribbling past what little gaps Fred’s body provided, and you went limp in his brother’s arms with one final howl.

George straightened up to hold you close, stroking your hair until you were ready to stand on your own again, “Nifty toy you got there. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite so animalistic” he chuckled.

Wiping the sweat of your brow off on your robes, you tried to make yourself look presentable again, smirking up at your boyfriend as you redid the buttons of your shirt, “Yes, well, nothing beats actual sex with you. Wanna go for a round two in your room?”

He beams, “Course! Want me to wait?”

“Nah, I’ll meet you up there” you gesture him away. Normally you would ask him to stay, but you had something to deal with first.

“Alright, see you in five” all excited, he ran for the door, then turned back just as he had performed the unlocking spell to give you a quick peak on the lips, then off he went.

Rummaging around in your shorts, you sigh as you unclog your hole, the contents stringing against Fred as you lift him to eye level. Merlin he looked awful. His fiery hair was stood on end, gelled up with your cum. His white shirt was practically transparent and clung to his abs as though it have been soaked in water. His eyes were a little bloodshot probably from liquid splashing into them, and his lips were rather swollen, like they would be after making out with someone for too long or too roughly. Just generally, your essence was rolling off of him in big globs. You placed your other hand to your mouth and giggled at his appearance, but he seemed the furthest thing from amused. His arms were crossed over his chest, a highly displeased scowl etched across his face.

“Oh don’t look at me like that!” you say, “If you hadn’t planned the robbery so terribly, or lied to me on twooccasions in the 8 hours proceeding it, getting me to write a whole 4 thousand word essay on things that were complete horseshit, humiliating me on front of Snape and—“

“Alright alright—!” He had softened up a little, averting eye contact, but you didn’t care.

“No! I’m not done!” That got his attention again, “Fred, you have been a dick to me for the past six years! Sure, you’re funny and can be sweet sometimes, but most of the time you don’t know where the line is! You prank me all the time, it’s relentless! And today you bloody pushed me over the edge. I had a perfect means of getting revenge and damn it I took it.”

He shrugs, “Whatever, I guess we’re even now”

You open your mouth to continue arguing but snap it shut when you realised what he had said. That really took much less convincing than you though, probably because you were feeling a smidge guilty for going so far in the heat of anger. It’s not like he orgasmed or anything... well if he did you wouldn’t be able to tell, his trousers were drenched, “Yeah, I guess...”

You waddled to the sink, turning both faucets on for lukewarm water, plonking him in the basin to clean off the sticky residue. You then hobbled into the closest stall to grab a wad of tissue and wipe yourself clean with it. Despite how absolutely caked in the stuff Fred was, you were still drenched. You exit the stall a couple of minutes later to find him completely washed down, "Right, let's get you back to your normal size, but let's put you in my pocket this time..."

"What a shame. I had really learned to call your vag my home" the sarcasm drooled from his lips.

You scooped him up, pinning him with a warning eye, "I'll put you back in there if you're not careful."

"Sorry sorry sorry!" he back peddled, extending his arms like a man about to be hit by an unforgivable curse. You gently lay him in your pocket, and snapped your head up to find Moaning Myrtle staring at you in disbelief.

"Umm..." the ghost muttered, for once in her life (or death) at a loss for words.

"Don't tell anyone what you saw here today, Myrtle" you warned, pointing a long threatening finger at her, "Not like they'd believe you anyway"

She nodded vigorously and dove into the nearest sink.

[cjsinkythoughts]

A History Lesson

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 4741

Warnings: Vulgar language, I think that’s it (it’s mainly fluff like Bucky’s)

Summary: You never were fond of history...but if history gives you a man like that? Maybe you could deal with it.

A/N: Here it is! A little later than I had hoped, but my brother is visiting, it was his birthday this week, work’s been a bit hectic, and I ended up writing a little something for Bucky’s birthday on Wednesday, which I didn’t mean to. I got it done, though! First Date with our dear Cap’n Spangles! I have all the First Date ideas for the other Avengers lined up, but I think I’m gonna put this on hiatus for now. I’m gonna try focusing on my College!AU at the moment. If you guys want, I’ll share my First Date plans, though. If I find time, I’ll write the next one. If you haven’t noticed, I have a fondness for collages, so I might do what I’m doing for my College!AU Project and make collages for the other First Dates before writing them. Anyways, enough with my ramblings. Enjoy the date!

You keep checking the clock, waiting for this lecture to be done. You typically enjoy school, but history isn’t a strong suit for you. You try in history, you really do, but all the information - the dates, people, places - it’s too much. You constantly mix things up, no matter how hard you study. And you don’t really get the hype. Who cares what these dead guys did? It happened, it’s done, and it’s time to move on.

“That’s all for today! Don’t forget your papers are due on Monday! You’re dismissed!”

You let out a groan at the mention of the cursed research paper. You had stayed up for hours the previous nights working on it, but so far you have squat. The essay is on the Second World War (more specifically the differences of life between Americans and Europeans at the time), and you know you should’ve done it when it was given a week ago, but your shitty memory makes it difficult to write a paper without five million textbooks in front of you and you don’t have time to go to the library every night between work, friends, and other projects. So, you haven’t done it yet.

Exhausted, mentally and physically, you collect your things and head out of the lecture hall. You pull out your phone to text your friends, telling them you have to work on a paper tonight and you can’t meet up for dinner like you all usually do on Fridays. Deciding to take a breather before working, you start out to the bench overlooking the Potomac River, which you always sat at to relax and just…be. The scenic walk through DC and the sight of the steady river flowing besides the busy city always calms you. 

You sit there for a few moments, letting the slight breeze chill the skin that’s warmed by the sun, listening to it ruffle the trees. The blush pink blossoms that appear when Spring sings her song and chases away Winter flutter to the newly grown, bright green grass below. You enjoy all the seasons, unable to help but love the unique beauty each brings, and Spring is no exception, despite the allergies and tests she brings.

And speaking of tests…

A soft sigh passes your lips as you get out your laptop. You might as well start writing, or at least researching, that paper. You never were good at relaxing when there’s work to be done.

You’re so engrossed in getting the stupid essay done and over with that you don’t notice the jogger who pauses in his run by the very bench you are slaving away on. “Savin’ this seat for anyone?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, no. Go ahead.” You answer distractedly, not even looking up from your screen as the owner of the deep voice sits besides you.

A few more minutes pass in comfortable silence, before you ruin it with a grumble and delete half the paragraph you just wrote. “That doesn’t make sense.” You change tabs to look over the information on the page you have pulled up again, only to furrow your eyebrows. You’re pretty sure the information is wrong. You may have a shitty memory, but you’re sure that the information given on this page is in contrast to the information given in the book you were reading a couple days ago.

“What’re you workin’ so hard on there, honey?”

You let out a huff, throwing your hands up in the air in defeat. “Some dumb research paper for school! It’s on World War Two, and I can’t remember what’s right and what’s wrong and it’s a stupid topic anyways that my stupid teacher assigned! Who fucking cares about a hundred years ago? And how the hell am I supposed to know this? I wasn’t alive! You know what I…”

The words die on your tongue as you finally glance over at the stranger keeping you company.

Blonde hair that seems gold with the way the sun is hitting the strands, which are damp and in slight disarray due to his exercise. Bright blue eyes reflecting the sky above, hidden beneath long lashes that you’re immediately envious of. Pretty pink lips, matching the cherry blossoms on the trees surrounding you, pulling up into an amused sort of smile. The makings of a beard lining his jaw and littering his cheeks.

Steve Rogers. Captain America. You just ranted about how stupid history is to Captain fucking America. You just ranted about how you have to write a dumb essay on World War Two to Captain fucking America.

Ignoring the way your body heats up, starting in your toes and climbing up your legs, chest, and neck to reach the tips of your ears, a nervous little chuckle is all you can give. You clear your throat, trying to think of how to apologize. “I guess you wouldn’t know what I mean, huh?”

What in the ever loving fuck was that? That was not an apology!

You clear your throat and try again. “I-I mean…sorry. It’s not - I didn’t mean-”

“No, no. It’s fine, sweetheart.” The grin he shoots you makes you glad you aren’t standing up, knowing full well your knees would’ve buckled if you were. You open your mouth to apologize again, but he shakes his head before you can speak. “Really. It’s okay. I get it. I used to be a student too. And you’re right; it was a long time ago and there’s a lot of things that happened. Even I have a hard time keeping track of everything that went down.”

You merely blink at him, nodding slowly. Say something. For the love of God, please just say something. Anything! “Yeah. I can barely remember what I had for breakfast this morning.” Really? You’re sitting besides the one and only Captain America and that’s what you decide to say?

You feel yourself slump your shoulders slightly, trying to shrink down into absolute nothingness. But even that wouldn’t work because he’s got that friend of his that could shrink and he’d find you. It seems that you were destined to be embarrassed in front of one of the most beautiful human beings on the planet. Screw the universe.

Instead of teasing you or embarrassing you further, he chuckles and nods in agreement, his eyes lighting up. “You’re not the only one. My pal Clint has got the absolute worst memory. We tease him all the time for it. How he became an agent with the memory of a goldfish, I’ll never know.” You laugh at that, your muscles relaxing and your anxiety easing up.

“Yeah, well, I’ve gotta get through college before I’m in the clear.”

“Don’t worry about it, honey. I’m sure you’ll be fine. Uh…so, a World War Two paper, huh? Need some help? I’m kind of an expert on the topic.”

Breath hitching as he scoots closer, you swallow thickly and shrug. “I don’t want to bother you. You look like you’re in the middle of a run.” You gesture to the tight ass t-shirt hugging his torso that you’re sure is sizes too small for him and the joggers hanging off his hips.

Following your gesture, he looks down, before shaking his head. “Nah. I’ve already ran a few more miles than I was going to today.”

“Are-are you sure?”

There’s that grin again. You’re not sure you’ll be able to survive him tutoring you if he keeps  giving you that adorable toothy smile. “Honest. I’ve got the rest of the day. We can go to the library if you want. Or we can stay here. Whatever works best for you. I don’t mind either way.”

You blink again, like an idiot, as you process his words. Whatever works best for you. What a gentleman. “Uhh…I was about to head to the library anyways, but I really don’t want to bother you-”

“Trust me, honey. It’d be my pleasure.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

You let out a soft laugh and nod at his insistence, starting to pack up your things. “Okay. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You stand up as he does and offer your hand.

“Steve. But I guess you figured that out.” Taking your hand, you expect him to shake it, but he squeezes it softly and brings it to his lips instead.

Clearing your throat, you tease him a bit to hide your bashfulness at his actions. “You’re a real gentleman, aren’t you?”

He shrugs with a slight smirk, gently dropping your hand and letting it go after another squeeze. “My momma raised nothing less.”

“I’m sure she’d be proud.”

His playful eyes go slightly more somber at that, his smirk morphing into a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Giving no reply, you smile softly and nod your head to the path. He nods back before quickly falling into step besides you, asking you more about your paper as you walk to the library.

* * * * * * * *

Giggling behind your hand to stay quiet, or at least attempt to since you both had already been berated by the librarians for being too loud, your attention is once again diverted to Steve and his stories.

It started out fine; he helped you find reliable books and told you which things were true. But not even half an hour passed before Steve told you a story about the Howling Commandos after something in a book reminded him of it. Your concentration since then has been split between your paper and Steve’s retelling of his past.

“Sorry. I keep distracting you. What’s next?”

You snicker again and shake your head. “No, no. It’s okay. I’m almost done anyways. I’ve actually written down a few things you said, if you don’t mind me using them. My professor can’t exactly argue with Captain America, now can he?”

His lips pull up and his shoulders shake in silent laughter. “I guess not. Of course I don’t mind. You can quote me anytime. See?” He nudges you with his shoulder playfully. “History isn’t so bad.”

“Not when you’re telling it.” You respond earnestly, grinning up at him.

“Eh, Bucky’s always been a better storyteller than me.” He gives a little shrug and rubs the back of his neck.

You shake your head at his modesty. “Well I think you do just fine. You’re the first person to get me interested in history. Hey, can you read this over for me? I just need to finalize this paragraph and do the conclusion.”

When you receive silence as an answer, you look over at the blonde with an eyebrow raised. The ocean eyes scanning over you make you a bit self conscious, so you shift slightly in your seat, making him come back from whatever thoughts overtook his mind. “Sorry. Of course I can, honey. That’s what I’m here for. Let me see.”

He gives you a few pointers on what to add and what to get rid of, before you finally finish, saving your work and closing your laptop with a huff. 

“What a mind workout. I’m sure my brain’s got abs now.”

Heads swivel towards you two as Steve guffaws, a lady a few tables down shushing him. He apologizes, still snickering. “Abs, huh?”

“I mean, not as good as yours but…” You freeze, inwardly facepalming. And you were doing so well.

He gives you a cheeky grin. “I’ve got good abs?”

“Oh don’t give me that!” You hiss out quietly. “You know you have good abs. I’m just stating facts is all.”

Another soft chuckle leaves those pretty lips and he twists in his seat to crack his back before standing to collect the books you both got out. “When’s the paper due again?”

You stand to help him, but you get a case of the butterfingers just as you go to pick the books up, making the pile tumble to the floor. “Ah shit.” Steve smiles gently at you as you huff and give him an exasperated look. “My bad.”

He snickers, bending down to help you despite having his own books to carry, like the gentleman he is. “So? Due date?”

“Monday.” You answer with a sigh, straightening up. You carefully set the books on the table to pile them better. “We should get the grade back by Friday.”

He hums, taking a few more books in those strong arms of his. “Ah, well, you’ll get a good grade. I believe in you.”

You smirk at him as you shift your bag so you could carry books under your arms. “I’m sure I will with your help, Captain.” He scoffs and rolls his eyes at your teasing manner. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Of course. I had a good time.” He sends that stunning smile your way and this time you are standing. Luckily you have a table to lean on casually instead of falling on your face. “Plus, now you’ve got a free weekend.”

“Ugh. I wish.” You shake your head. “This is my final semester before I graduate. There’s loads to do. But this makes it easier.” Heading through the aisles of the library, you catch sight of the time on a clock on the wall and your eyes widen. You’d been there for a little over three hours! “Damn! I’m sorry I took up your Friday, though. I’m sure there’s things you want to do before you have to go back to New York, huh?”

Shrugging his broad shoulders, he runs a hand through his golden locks and drops the books he had in his arms on the desk for returns. “Not really. I’m here for the next couple weeks, actually. Meetings and stuff. Plus, it doesn’t even take me an hour to get here, so I can really come whenever I want.”

“That’s nice.” You follow his lead and set your books down, readjusting your bag on your shoulder. “I wish I could go to New York whenever I want. I’m way too poor for that.”

He chuckles again. You’ll never get tired of the sound of his laughter. “I’m sure you’ll get there one day.”

You shrug half heartedly, not really believing him. You’re barely making it in DC. There’s no way you could make it in the Big Apple. “Sure. Someday. I’m serious, though. I’m sorry you wasted  your time with some stressed out college student instead of enjoying time with your friends.”

“I’m serious too, honey. It’s no problem; I enjoyed it. And it’s not a waste of my time. Not as long as you get a good grade.”

You laugh as the two of you head out of the building, stopping on the steps and facing each other. “How will you know if I get a good grade?”

He purses his lips in thought. “Meet me at the bench next Friday.” He finally said, his eyes sparkling. “Then we’ll see. Until then, Y/N.”

You grin, taking the large hand he offers you, firmly shaking it before he can kiss your knuckles, making him snicker. “Until then, Steve.”

* * * * * * * *

Feet pounding against the concrete, you practically jump when you spot the man already sitting at the bench. “Steve!” You shout happily, waving your paper in the air. The blonde shoots up, a brow raised in curiosity. “I got a 97!”

You come to a halt in front of him, but it’s too quick, so your clumsy feet trip over each other. Before you can fall, he catches you with ease, smiling down at you in amusement. Small pants leave your lips as sweat trickles down your spine. Where’s that breeze when you need it?

“Uhm…oops?” What the hell was that?! That was embarrassing, that’s what it was!

He chuckles, straightening you up. “You were saying?” 

With pride lifting up the corners of your mouth, you shove the paper at his chest, once again grateful that he ignored your blunderings. “97%!”

“I told you you’d be fine. And I knew it wasn’t a waste of my time.” Steve looks up from the paper to give you a toothy grin.

“Thank you again.” You take the paper he hands back to you and shove it in your bag. “I probably would’ve failed the class without this grade. Is there really nothing I can do to pay you back for your time?”

He taps his chin in faux-thought, before tilting his head innocently. “You can loan me some of your time on Sunday.”

You purse your lips, confusion written over your features. “My time? On Sunday? Oh!” You light up, figuring he just needs help with something. “Yeah, duh. Okay. What do you need help with? I can promise I’ll try my hardest, but I might not-”

“No, no. Honey, that’s not-” he laughs, shaking his head and grabbing your hand to make you stop rambling. “I’m askin’ you out.”

“Out?” You pause, registering what that meant. “Like…on a date?” Is he serious? There’s no way he wants to go on a date with you. You pretty much called his life story boring, to his face, and then made him spend three hours on a Friday evening at the library working on a college paper with you.

He snickers with a nod. “Yes, on a date. So whaddya say, sweetheart?”

“Yes!” You blurt out without thinking, before you shy back, feeling yourself heat up as you tend to do around this God of a man. “Y-yeah. Yeah, I’d love to. Sunday. I can do that.”

He beams adorably, like a child being allowed to buy his favorite candy bar. Or a puppy with his favorite toy. Yeah…he reminds you of a puppy. Which only makes him that much cuter.

“Awesome! Meet me here at noon. Does that work?”

You nod vigorously. “That works perfectly.”

“Perfect.” He repeats, before taking your hand and bringing your knuckles to his lips once more.

* * * * * * * *

You’re sitting on the bench, tapping your toes nervously and checking your phone every minute. He said noon and it’s only eleven thirty. It’s a bit inconvenient, to say the least, when the place you go to relax is the place you’re meeting the person making you anxious. You could barely sleep the previous night, too many doubts lingering in your head. You seem to always be making a fool of yourself in front of him, but he was the one who asked you out, so that had to count for something.

You try not to think too hard about it, instead thinking back to last Friday in the library and how his features lifted when he told stories of his childhood and the Howling Commandos and the grin he got when he told you about the things they used to do that would get them in trouble.

“But I’m Captain America, and who’s gonna say no to this face?”

A little giggle leaves your lips as you remember his words, before you’re startled back to reality as a familiar smooth voice sounds besides you.

“Whatcha giggling at, honey?”

You whip over to see Steve grinning in amusement, leaning on the back of the bench. Your eyes drag down his figure. Another too tight t-shirt showing every ridge and curve on his torso, a jacket over his broad shoulders along with a casual pair of jeans. You had seen a meme about Steve having the proportions of a Dorito and, looking at him now, you can see how true it was. It almost makes you laugh again, but you remember what exactly is happening, and you suddenly can’t find anything funny.

“Sweetheart? You alright?”

“Huh? Oh. Yes. Yeah. I’m fine. I was just…thinking.”

He raised an eyebrow, smirking and leaning his forearms against the back of the bench next to where you’re sat. “And those adorable little giggles?”

There’s that familiar flush that you’ve learned to ignore, praying to God he didn’t notice your heart skipping a beat. “Uh, I just remembered something. That’s all.”

He gives a little hum, before hopping over the back and landing besides you. “Seems like we both had the same idea. Gettin’ here early.”

“If you must know, I was just…” You shrug. “To be honest, I’m a little anxious.”

“I’m not that scary, am I?” He teases, nudging you gently.

You roll your eyes and give him a look. “I don’t think there’s a bone in your body capable of being scary. I’m just…I’m nervous I’m gonna embarrass myself…again.”

Steve shakes his head, looking at you earnestly. “You’re not gonna embarrass yourself.”

Picking at the hem of your shirt, you scoff, shaking your head. “I already have. The amount of times I’ve tripped or said something stupid or rambled, which I’m doing right now, or-”

“Honey, honey. Slow down.” The blonde chuckles. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I find all of those things endearing. Now, the amount of times I’ve seen my teammates slip and fall on their faces while chasing an enemy? That’s embarrassing. Just the other day, Buck tripped on the roof of a car. Sam has it recorded.”

You let out a laugh at that and nod. “Okay, okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to get all insecure on you-”

“It’s fine, Y/N.” Steve insists. “Now,” he stands and offers his hand. “Let’s go get some lunch, yeah?”

You look at his hand before looking up at him and taking it without hesitation. “Okay.”

* * * * * * * *

After rounds of questions during lunch, Steve took you around the Smithsonian to all the different museums. Just like history, you had never been overly fond of museums. You typically walked around for a little bit, never really reading the information, only enjoying the pictures.

It’s different with Steve. Just like how it was different writing the research paper with him. He makes everything interesting, telling you his own facts and stories. Especially once you get to his exhibit in the Air and Space Museum.

Once you arrive, he puts on a hat and ducks his head, trying not to bring attention to you both while on a date. You tease him a bit, swinging your linked hands as you walk in with a cheeky grin. He nudges you with his elbow, his own smile painted on his lips.

You can’t help but listen and hold onto his every word, as if you’d die if you forget a single sentence. The light in his eyes as he talks about his past, showing you the pictures and plaques excitedly. Like a child during show and tell, he’s practically skipping from exhibit to exhibit, dragging you along behind him.

Giggling at his elation, you eagerly, and with no resistance, let him take you through his story. “They keep updating it.” He explains as you leave the area with World War Two and the Howling Commandos, entering through a corridor with modern pictures of him and the Avengers. “Every couple years or so they call me and tell me they’re adding another thing.”

“Doesn’t that get annoying?” You wonder, reading a wall about the Battle of Manhattan with interest. “Your whole life being put on display for everyone to see?”

Steve shrugs. “I dunno. I’ve never really minded. They don’t put in personal things, so it’s not too bad. You could learn more from the internet about me.”

You nod, knowing how true that really was. “You’ve got a point. Still. It must be a bit weird being a national icon.”

“I’ll admit, people stopping me on the street is getting a little old. I used to wish to be someone who changed the world. Now I have and sometimes I wish I could be normal. But I wouldn’t change what I’ve done. Who I am. Not if people can learn from it. Not if I can keep people safe.”

Turning away from the wall to glance at Steve, who has his hands in his pockets studying the wall, you smile and tilt your head. “You’re a good man, Steve Rogers.”

He turns to you, his lips pulling up. “That’s all I hope for.” His voice is quiet, earnest, before it becomes lighter as he gestures back to the wall. “You know the first thing we did after winning was go out for shawarma? It was Tony’s idea.”

“No way.” You laugh. “All six of you?”

“Yeah! We go there for every Battle of Manhattan Anniversary, now. I’ll take you some time. It’s a nice place.”

“Is that a promise?”

He smirks at your teasing tone. “Absolutely.”

* * * * * * * *

After your museum hopping, he takes you to Arlington Cemetery to show you a few friends and fellow soldiers he met all those years ago. It’s such a personal intimate thing that he shares, and you think you shouldn’t be there to witness it, but he’s quick to reassure you that’s not the case. That he wouldn’t have anyone else by his side, listening to his stories.

By the time you get back to the city, it’s getting dark, so you two head out for dinner before Steve takes you up the Washington Monument to look at the city lights. He makes sure you have the top all to yourselves; there’s perks of being an Avenger - especially one of the leaders.

“Alright, alright.” Leaning on the rail, you turn to him with a smile. “So maybe history isn’t as bad as I originally thought.”

“Yeah? I convinced you, did I?”

You roll your eyes at his smirk, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Maybe a bit. But only when you’re telling it. You think there’s any way you could come to history with me?” You joke with a laugh, feeling yourself flush at the chuckle and grin he gives you.

“I wish I could, honey.” He spoke softly, running a thumb over your knuckles. “Unfortunately, I’ve got work to do. I’m heading back to New York tomorrow. I’ll be back on Friday, though. If you would want to-”

You beam and nod energetically. “I’d love to go out again, Stevie.”

Giving your hand a squeeze, he beams back. “Fantastic.” He looks back out to the window and gives a little sigh. “It’s gettin’ late and you’ve got class tomorrow.”

“Yeah. I should probably get going. Do you, I mean, would you mind walking me home?” You blink up at him through your lashes hopefully.

“Of course!” His eyes - which you found throughout the day weren’t entirely blue, but had some green hues to them - lit up as you two start towards the elevator. He tucks you under his strong arm, pulling you close. “You wanna get ice cream or something on the way?”

“You read my mind, Captain.”

* * * * * * * *

By the time you reach your door, you’ve both finished your ice cream and he’s telling yet another story while you laugh, once again swinging your linked hands. 

When it comes time to say goodbye, you can’t help but wish your hand could stay in his for a while longer. Knowing that you’d be saying farewell, you hold on a bit tighter. “Pick me up on Friday?”

He nods, squeezing your hand before letting it go and brushing his fingertips along your cheek. “I’ll call you later too, alright, sweetheart?”

“Okay.” You agree eagerly. “You gonna kiss me goodnight now, soldier?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He chuckles softly, before gently grabbing your chin. Using his other hand, he pulls you closer by the waist, pressing his lips to yours. It’s soft and sweet and perfect, just like him, but it ends too quickly for your liking. He pulls back, nudging his nose against yours, and murmuring against your lips. “Sleep well.”

You smile, leaning your forehead against his. “Good night, Stevie.”

Stepping away, he lifts your knuckles to his lips. “G’night.”

You stop him before he could turn all the way. “Steve?” He pauses to look over his shoulder at you with an eyebrow raised. You have a question, and you can’t help but ask it, it having been on your mind for days. “Why’d you stop your run just to sit by me?”

“And leave a beautiful dame like yourself before I could get your name? I may be a super soldier, honey, but I’m still a man. Abyssinia Friday, Y/N.”

[strikethematch18]

Dadzawa x F! Reader - Over Worked & Tired Part 1

It was now reaching the hour of at least 3 in the morning in Japan and you still hadn’t finished your paper proposal that you have been working on for hours on end. It certainly didn’t help that it was weeks overdue with only a few days until the end of the semester for your college courses back in America. 

You’re an American based student attending U.A. High, but also completing your bachelor’s degree at a college back in the states. Highly intelligent, as you were a member of Class 3-A and still in high school but only have one more semester until you finish your B.A. in English, about the same time you would graduate high school. Unfortunately, the time difference between the US and Japan has screwed with you reaching deadlines and a symptom of overusing your quirk is a lack of focus, something that you didn’t even tell your homeroom teacher, Mr. Aizawa. You were determined this was something you could do on your own.

Lately, you’ve been feeling like you have something to prove, almost like you’re somehow less than your peers as if your quirk wasn’t as useful or not powerful enough. As if your instant ability to feel empathy and affect emotions as well as being trained in formal combat in a similar fashion to Aizawa and his scarf. In fact, he was the one who worked with you and trained you with it. 

None the less you still felt like you were on your own with this and felt like you had to overdo yourself in training exercising. Quite frankly, you were on the serious verge of burn out, you wanted nothing more than to just curl up in your bed and watch a little TV after a nice hot shower. But non the less you had to push those desires aside to finish your college semester out strong.

You take another drink of your contraband energy drink, as a student at esteemed high school U.A. things like those were highly frowned upon as they were enhancing your energy to perform due to their abnormal amount of caffeine. Right now, you didn’t give a damn, you were going to be up all night and had early morning training with Aizawa and you are exhausted either way. Just trying to pull these long nights to finish on time. The dark circles were aware to you and your sluggish movements during the day meant a lot more effort on your quirk.

The door to your dorm room was still open allowing light from the outside room to shine into your room as well as your small little desk lamp providing you with a little bit of light for you to write and research on your laptop. You had a light but warm blanket wrapped around you as you were cold and it was around you very similarly to Aizawa’s sleeping bag come to think about it. You were generally cold a greater portion of the time but this felt a little different than normal, you were starting to become congested, never a good sign.

You sighed as you dropped your pencil on your papers and took your hands and rubbed your face and sat there for a moment just resting them there. You could hear footsteps down the hall and took it as someone getting up to go to the kitchens for something, it was an often occurrence. It did slip your mind that teachers would take shifts to do monitoring at different times in the night just taking a stroll down the hallways making sure everything was alright. Honestly, most teachers just slacked on it most of the time so it wasn’t a regular thing. It didn’t really dawn on you that the footsteps were getting closer to your room and the kitchen was the opposite direction. 

Usually, hallway patrols took around 10 minutes for teachers to complete which is why they were skipped so often, but Aizawa actually decided to do his tonight. And to his surprise, he saw one door open compared to the rest closed. His first thought was thinking about what was wrong and quickened his pace. But when he reached your door he couldn’t help but examine your hunched over posture wrapped in your blanket and head in hands, surrounded by loose papers, post its, pens, books, and laptop.

He knew you had a little extra course load normally but he didn’t realize it was something you would be doing well into the night, he just figured you were about to balance everything extremely well as you never complained and usually performed well in classes. However, thinking back to the last week you have seemed a little more tired and in a daze resulting in more quirk effort. The overuse of quirks segment of your student file was blank and he never made the effort to find out. 

He continued to stand at your door for another minute and saw the can of energy drink beside you knowing you were a good kid and wouldn’t resort to something as foolish as that without it being a last resort. Aizawa briefly knocked on your door to alert you of his presence. He did have a soft spot for you compared to Midoria or Bakoguo so he was a little more gentle with you.

“Hey kid, what are you still doing up?”

Startled out your state you did a small jump in your desk chair, “Just trying to write this essay. It’s a few weeks overdue and the end of the semester is soon so I need to get this in.”

He took a few steps into your room and stood behind you, “12th-century convents and monasteries in Italy. Hmm, that doesn’t sound very interesting. What kind of class is this for?”

“It’s for my Origins of western though class, medieval through the renaissance. And trust me, it really isn’t, especially when you can’t focus on it at all,” you replied.

“You’re having trouble focusing?” he asked genuinely concerned, he had never heard those words come from you before.

You put your face back in your hands and simply said, “Quirk overuse.”

Aizawa was taken aback for a short moment, you were never one to complain or let someone know when there was something going on, “God kid how long has this been going on?”

“This time? At least since last week.”

“This time? So this isn’t something new?” he was a little shocked since this was the first time he heard of any of your overuse symptoms. 

“God no, there’s also an extra degree of fatigue and the occasional headache. Night terrors are kinda common too.”

“Shit Y\N why have you never mentioned this before?”

“It just never seemed to be all that important really, I’ve handled it by myself for years why start before now?”

“When was the last time you got a decent nights sleep, you’re starting to look like me. You’ve even got the whole blanket thing going for you,” he asked looking at your form sitting at your desk as you shifted in your seat to look at him.

“Uh, you know, that’s a really good question and it’s been long enough that I can’t fully remember. To be truthful, I just want to finish this so I can take a warm shower and go to sleep.”

When you looked at him he got a better look at you. To be truthful you looked horrible and he started to feel bad because it was evident you were working yourself to death, and keeping up with both school lives on top of his added one-on-one training sessions were taking a toll on you. He had also noticed the congestion in your voice, that was never a good sign.

He put his hand on your forehead and you leaned into even though it felt cold to you it still felt nice, “Kid you’re burning up, you have a fever, why don’t you stop for the night and get that shower you want and you can crash on my couch tonight so I can keep an eye on you.”

“With all due respect sir, I need to finish this, my professor has been on me for weeks on end on this. I have to finish it tonight. And I couldn’t possibly bother you with just congestion and small fever.”

Aizawa sighed and took a seat on the edge of your still made bed, “Listen, kid, I’ll let you finish. I'm going to sit here until you're done and you’re coming with me.”

You put your head down as you knew there was no way out of this one. He took a book off your nightstand and began reading it as you continue your work. It took you about 2 more hours and he had managed to doze off wait for you. You look back at him sleeping quietly and simply close your laptop for the night and lay your head down and close your eyes for just a second truthfully, you felt horrible. In the absence of your typing, Aizawa woke up and saw you with your head down and got up and put a hand on your shoulder feeling the elevated body heat from your fever radiating through you. 

He quietly sighed and in his general monotone voice said, “Come on kiddo let’s go, grab some comfy clothes and you can shower back at my room.”

You compiled and went to stand up but immediately the word was spinning and you had to grab onto the desk to steady yourself. He had immediately put a hand around your waist and only your shoulder not wanting you to fall in your sick weakened state.

“Okay, new plan, We’re going straight to my room, I’ll just give you some clothes and you can take a sitting down shower. I don’t want you to exert any more energy and risk you falling and hurting yourself, so I’m going to carry you, is that okay?”

You gave a small nod and he put one arm under your knees and one on your mid-back and you put your arms around his neck and snuggled into his chest feeling small. And quite truthfully, Aizawa did notice you were a little nighter and a little bonier than he expected before, almost as if you had been skipping meals.

Walking with you down the hallway still wrapped in your blanket ha=e quietly asked, “Kid I need you to be honest with me, are you eating?”

You give a small groan in response, “I accidentally forgot for a few days I’ve just been too busy and didn’t realize.”

Aizawa sighed and realized how work-oriented you are, stopping for nothing and not accomplishing things for your health, “I’ll make you some soup while you’re in the shower okay, then will you please eat a little bit of it?”

You simply nodded your head in his chest resulting in a lack of verbal response.

Once making it back to his living quarters he opened the door and was greeted by a cat waiting for him to get back. He closed the door behind both of you and took you to the bathroom and sat you down on the toilet and told you to undress and take a shower, and he would leave clothes and some towels for you in a bit. 

As you did that and carefully sat down at the bottom of the shower and turned the water on you immediately felt the warm water hitting your skin rinsing some of the sick away and you let out a small cough, which didn’t go unnoticed by your teacher leaving a pair of black sweatpants and a charcoal grey sweater that will be much too large for you but are clean clothes you should find comfortable.

[charlie-boio]

Fire - Thomas fic

Pairing: Thomas x Reader

Summary: Your dorm building is on fire, and Thomas has no idea where you are.

Word Count: 3636

A/N: This was gonna be shorter, but whatever that’s just my theme at this point. This is a quick Tommy fic before I dive DEEP into Mitch. This actually came to me in a dream soo hope y’all love it as much as I do. Pretty proud of this one for sure!

WARNINGS: Fires, mentions of death (no actual death), angst

Thomas’s eyes were starting to blur together. His eyes scanned over the same sentence again, trying to make the words stick in his head. Finals week was already kicking his ass, just like the last two weeks of classes had been doing. Last week, he had a test, two projects due, and an essay due all on the same day. What are the fucking odds of that?

Worst of all, he barely had any time to see you. You couldn’t even study together since Thomas preferred to study in his room while you had to study at the library. A few times you two had managed to grab lunch together, but you both had to eat quickly before rushing off to continue studying or finishing up an assignment. Not to mention the sheer exhaustion made you both too tired to keep up an engaging conversation.

You couldn’t even spare a text often, besides good morning/goodnight along with the “I miss you” texts. However, today, you had excitedly called him, saying you thought you would be finishing your work early, and you excitedly invited him over so you could spend the night together.

“Or I could come over there if you’re still studying. Like I really don’t even mind if it’s just my head in your lap and I’m watching a movie on my phone by myself while you work because I just miss you so so much and these past two weeks and we haven’t gotten to talk and I’d really like to-“

“Baby, you can definitely come over tonight.”

“Really? YES! Oh my God I’m so excited to see you! Should I bring my computer for the movi-oh wait should I bring clothes so I can stay the night or is Newt not going to see his-“

“I can kick Newt out. You’re staying the night, okay? Here, I’ll work through my break so I can have the night off too. I’m sure my body could use the break anyways.”

“Tommy, I don’t want you to overwork yourself for me I don’t mind-“

“I won’t, I promise,” Which was a lie, but he really thought he could get through his work enough for you to come over. Even if he couldn’t, he’ll just tack it onto tomorrow. It would be worth it to see you.

“…okay. Please don’t kill yourself over this Tommy. I promise I don’t mind I’ve just been aching to see you-oh FUCK! Forget to meet up with my professor oh FUCK I have to go bye baby I love you!”

Click.

Thomas’s fingers froze on his keyboard. He turned to his phone that had you on speaker, but all he saw were the words “Call ended.”

You two hadn’t said those three words to each other yet.

Of course, Thomas loved you. More than anything. Loving you was one of the only sure things he had in his life right now but wasn’t sure how he was supposed to tell you. He’s never loved anyone as strongly as he loves you, and your relationship was still fairly new, only four months in, but he was certain more than anything that you and him would be together for the rest of your lives.

Thomas broke into a grin and choked out a laugh. You loved him too.

Unfortunately, his insecurities started to kick in, saying how you didn’t mean to say it, you’d been in a hurry, and that you didn’t actually love him. He closed his eyes and put his face in his hands for a few moments, taking slow and deep breaths.

“It’s okay,” he whispered to himself. “Just get this done, then you can see her…and tell her that you love her too.”

Thomas brought his hands back to the keyboard and resumed typing, even more determined to finish now that there was a reward dangling over his head.

*

*

“You’ve got to be joking?” Gally managed to wheeze out.

“Dead serious!” Newt gasped between breaths.

The pair continued laughing, loudly, much to Thomas’s annoyance. He’d been working steadfast for the past few hours since your guys’ phone call, making excellent progress along the way.

Unfortunately, he’d hit a rut, and just when he had needed peace and quiet, his roommate Newt came back with Gally after they’d had dinner together. Newt had mentioned when they had entered the room that Thomas was still studying, to which Gally replied that he should study in the library like a normal person.

Thomas had decided then he did not like Gally.

What made it even worse was as their conversation continued, so did the volume and Thomas was this fucking close to snapping at the both of them since there’s a perfectly good common room down the fucking hall.

Just as Thomas was about to turn his chair and give them a piece of his mind, the door burst open and a scared Minho came into the room. He frantically looked around, then turned to Thomas. “She’s not here?”

Thomas furrowed his eyebrows, “Y/n? No, she was gonna text me when she was coming over, which should probably be soon now that I-“ Thomas clamped his mouth shut when he took in Minho’s facial expression: a mixture of fear and guilt. “What’s wrong?”

“Her dorm building is on fire,” Minho said, wincing.

For second, Thomas froze. On another night, on any fucking other night this week he would’ve been reassured that she was at the library studying her ass off. But today…

Minho, Newt, and Gally all were looking at Thomas with apprehension.

Thomas jumped from his chair, knocking it over. He shoved Minho aside, who called after him, “I didn’t see her outside…” and ran down the hall, not registering Minho���s statement. He sent multiple texts, one right after the other.

To Princess: Hey, I just wanted to check that you were still in the library

To Princess: I know your busy, but just a quick text letting me know you’re okay idk if you’ve heard, but your buildings on fire I need to make sure okay

To Princess: Please baby I’m getting scared

To Princess: Y/n please tell me you’re okay

Thomas pushed open the outside door, and nearly fell over from the sight. Across the courtyard he could clearly see your building, which was in the process of being burned. The top floor was almost completely obliterated, and it was about halfway through burning the third floor, which happened to be the one you lived in. He could see the firefighters doing their best to extinguish it, but they weren’t making much headway.

His feet were moving before he realized it, running towards the crowd of people that had gathered and was scanning for your face, unable to find you. He was calling you now, which went straight to voicemail. He sent texts despite knowing that you weren’t seeing them since at the very least your phone was off.

To Princess: Y/n I need you to answer my calls

To Princess: Please

To Princess: I love you

To Princess: I didn’t get to tell you that yet

To Princess: Baby please don’t leave me

To Princess: I love you

Thomas spotted Brenda, your roommate. He felt a minor pinch of relief flood his system; Brenda studied in her room all of the time too. If she’s here then you got out okay too.

He pushed his way through the crowd until he came up to Brenda, who was talking to the RA of her floor. He grabbed her arm, earning him a seething glare until she realized it was Thomas.

“Hey Th-“

“Where’s Y/n? I didn’t see her in the crowd but since you’re here then that means you two got out ok right?” He flashed her a pained smile that quickly faded once he realized that instead of her directing him to where you were, her eyes widened.

“She’s-She’s not with you?” Brenda asked, her voice cracking.

Thomas’s stomach dropped; he started to feel himself shake. This can’t be happening! He thought.

“N-No, she was going to text me once she was done, but she wasn’t in your guys’ room?”

“I was in the basement common room, I-I don’t know if she was there or not…” Brenda said, tears forming in her eyes.

It was only when Thomas saw Brenda’s tears that he realized he was crying, tears streaming quickly down his face.

“…So no one knows where she is…” The RA said slowly. A moment of silence passed by. A moment that said everything they needed to know.

Thomas turned and looked at the burning building, his breath catching in his throat while he felt the tears start to burn.

“No…” he whispered.

Another moment passed without the three of them saying anything until Brenda pointed in the far direction. “There she is!” she exclaimed, a smile on her face.

Thomas whipped around, and sure enough, there you were. You were staring up at the building in shock, with Minho and Newt standing by you, asking if you were okay.

Thomas ran, all kinds of different emotions flooding his system as he reached you and pulled you into a tight hug. He let out a shaky breath as he felt your arms snake around him, hugging him just as tightly as he was.

You two stayed there like, holding each other close, until finally his emotions settled for a brief moment. Thomas felt…angry. Unbelievably angry.

He grabbed your arms and forced you back, glaring down at you. You’re smile fell quickly from your face, furrowing into a worried look.

“Thomas-“

“Where the fuck were you?” Thomas asked, tone harsh.

“I-I was at the library. Tommy you know I study there-“

“Then why didn’t you answer your phone?” Thomas was raising his voice, and each time he did you grew smaller. “I tried calling and left dozens of texts-“

“It died! I didn’t realize until I had finished studying-“

“And you didn’t bring your charger? Like you always do?” His grip on your arms was stronger.

“Baby, I had forgotten it, I’m sorry! I meant to grab it then text you that I was on my way over-“

“Y/n,” you clamped your mouth shut at that. Thomas rarely called you by your name. “You’re not fucking getting it I thought you were dead! I thought you were in that fire burning alive!” He was practically screaming at you, his gaze unkind.

“Tommy…” you whispered.

“We’re leaving. Now!” He snarled at you, tugging you forward with one arm.

“Thomas,” Newt had started, but Thomas wasn’t listening. He marched forward with you trailing quietly behind him.

His mind was racing at a thousand thoughts a second. Deep down, he knows he shouldn’t have snapped at you; it wasn’t your fault, but right now he was just angry at everything. Every so often he’d glance back at you, making sure you were still there and that he wasn’t dreaming.

*

*

For you, the walk back to Thomas’s dorm was agonizingly slow. You glanced down at the piece of paper that you had been writing for the past hour and half.

You were half way to the library when you realized the slip up you’d made. At first, you had completely panicked, but after having several pep talks with yourself in the mirror, you somehow convinced yourself that this was a blessing in disguise. You could sit down with Thomas, tell him how you feel, then you two could have awesome sex afterwards (which you haven’t had for awhile since you barely saw each other). After finishing your work you were going to head over, but then decided to write out what you had to say. Unfortunately, you’d been staring at the piece of paper for about half an hour unable to fully express how you felt. Then, everything you did write wasn’t good enough for your Thomas. You couldn’t describe how he made you feel, and how much you loved him.

By the time you had fully written something down, you realized how late it was already on the library clock. Reaching down to grab your phone to text Thomas, you realized that it had died while you were sitting there, which you were sure that it was at 30% but now it wouldn’t turn on. Then, well the rest is history.

You hadn’t meant to. You just wanted to make sure that when you told Thomas that it was perfect and everything he deserved.

Of course, now you realize that deserved someone better than you. Someone prettier and smarter. Someone who doesn’t spend so much time studying, and doesn’t forget simple things like a phone charger. You fought back the tears; you didn’t want to guilt Thomas, you didn’t want to make things worse, and honestly, you didn’t want to be yelled at anymore.

Thomas didn’t speak to the entire way back. He merely lead you to his room, throwing his phone charger at you. He grabbed a pair of sweatpants and left. You blinked, confused. But when you figured it out, a fresh wave of pain shot through your heart. He wasn’t coming back. He must’ve kicked Newt out for the night for his original plan, so you two would have some time to yourself…

You rushed over, plugging in your phone and turning it on. You read of all his messages, and you couldn’t stop staring at the last text.

I love you

You blew it. He did love you, then you had to blow it.

The dam holding everything back burst open, and you let all of your emotions run free. You sobbed, loudly, trying to let everything out. Hugging your knees to your chest, you fell to the side on Thomas’s bed, muffling your sobs into the sheets. Time was lost to you. Hours flew by, or maybe it was only a matter of minutes.

After awhile you sat up, feeling empty and numb. Your throat was raw, your eyes and cheeks burned, and somehow you were cold despite the layers you were wearing. You weren’t sure if sleeping in Thomas’ bee was okay, but once you laid down you decided you didn’t care. After weeks of studying and the stress of today, you were exhausted. Your eyes closed for only a few moments before swiftly falling asleep.

*

*

“You’re being a dick,” Newt said, his arms crossed.

Sitting in the common room of Minho’s dorm, Thomas sat on the coach reading something on his phone, or at least he was supposed to. In reality his eyes were glazing over.

When he had first arrived, he’d shot everyone glare, and they all got the message to not bother him. He’d been angry, so incredibly angry he was practically vibrating.

Now, it was close to 1:00am, he’d calm down significantly. He rubbed his eyes together, feeling the burn of exhaustion behind them. It had been a long day.

“Tommy,”

“I know,” Thomas snapped, then sighed. “I’m sorry,” his voice was quieter now, and Newt’s stance softened. “You don’t understand…I really thought she had died Newt. I don’t know what I’d do without her. I love her,” Thomas took in a shaky breath. “I know she’d never intentionally do that to me. Ever. I just…”

Newt hummed. He uncrossed his arms and sat next to Thomas. “That’s what happens when you fall in love, Thomas. You care, and you’re allowed to feel emotions. Honestly, it was the perfect storm. It was the one day she was done early, the one time she forgot her charger, the one time her phone died, everything just lined up perfectly.”

Thomas nodded along. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“You could’ve been upset. I would have. But you’re right you definitely shouldn’t have yelled at her like that.”

“I feel shitty.”

“You should. If you didn’t then I’d be concerned. You should feel somewhat bad for yelling at someone you care about. Even if they deserve it, which y/n didn’t by the way.”

“Will…will she forgive me?”

Newt rolled his eyes. “Obviously. She loves you too. And don’t even try to convince yourself otherwise.”

Thomas smiled to himself. For the first time, he actually believed that you could love him.

“I’m gonna head back. Thanks Newt,” Thomas said as he stood.

“Happy to help. No go apologize for being a twat, Tommy.”

Walking back into his room, he felt a twinge if guilt stab him. His bedside lamp was on, but you were clearly in an uncomfortable sleep. Occasionally you’d shiver, despite the covers, or you’d twitch. Thomas knelt by you, feeling his guilt spread through his body. Your fair was blotchy and your eyes were pink and puffy. His heart clenched tightly; he should be drying your tears, not causing them.

Sitting loosely in your hand was a slightly crumpled folded piece of paper. Tentatively, he lifted your fingers and grabbed it, leaving his hand. Opening it, he could see it was addressed to him.

Tommy,

 This is probably my thousandth time writing this, but I just can’t seem to write down everything I want to say to you. I have such strong feelings that words don’t seem to do it any justice, so I guess I’ll just come out and say it.

 I love you.

 I love everything about you: your smile, your beautiful eyes that I just get lost in, the look of you face when you’re concentrating hard on something, and the way you make me feel so special every single day we’ve been together. You’re sweet, kind, and just everything I’ve ever wanted.

 I know I said it earlier today, and yes that was a slip, but I’m glad it happened. I feel like I’ve loved you for awhile now, and just haven’t had the courage to tell you. Well, now I want to be able to tell you every single day that I love you, I love how I can be myself around you, and I can’t wait to see what the future holds for us. Because I know that as long as we have each other, nothing can stand in our way.

 I love you so much Tommy. I love you with everything that I am.

 Forever yours,

 y/n

Thomas wasn’t sure when he’d started, but some of his tears started falling onto the page, smudging the words together. He let the paper flutter to the floor, staring up at your sleeping form. You loved him too.

He just hoped you’d forgive him.

He didn’t plan on waking you, deciding he’d sleep on the floor if had too. He was trying to keep his hiccups done and his own sobs quiet so he wouldn’t wake you. Grabbing Newt’s pillow, he set it on the floor next to his bed. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, smiling through his tears.

You stirred, eyes blinking open. Thomas froze; he didn’t mean to wake you.

“Tommy…is that you?” you asked groggily.

“I’m so sorry,” Thomas sobs became more uncontrollable, wrecking through his body while he tried to take in deep breaths, but he couldn’t get any air into his lungs.

Next thing he knew, he was on his bed with your arms around him. His face was buried into the crook of your neck, soaking the sweatshirt you were wearing. He heard you murmuring soothing words into his ear while you ran your fingers through his hair.

After awhile his breathing calmed down, and his tears stopped flowing. He lifted his head to see fresh tears on your face, giving him a watery smile.

He lifted his hand and wiped away some of the lingering tears. “Baby, why are you crying?”

“I don’t like seeing you upset.”

He chuckled at that. “Neither do I, princess,” Thomas swallowed. “I’m sorry. Really. I-I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. It’s not like you did anything wrong, or you set your dorm building on fire. I just-I just got so scared that you were gone, because I-I don’t want to lose you. I-I love you,”

You smiled softly at him, squeezing his arm. “I love you too, Tommy. Have for awhile now, I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

Thomas let out a breathy laugh and bit his lip. “…I read your letter…”

“Yeah?”

“You…you really feel that?”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “Of course, I literally just said it too.” You were smiling brightly now, and Thomas would do anything to keep that smile on your face. The way your eyes lit up, crinkling around the edges. Somehow, he was falling deeper in love with you.

“I know this week has sucked with finals, and I had plans for dinner. I was gonna tell you today after you said it on the phone. I know you didn’t mean to say it, but I thought it’d be a perfect opportunity. Tomorrow I have my last final, so if you wouldn’t mind postponing your studying so we can spend the morning together? Have breakfast? Then you can study and I’ll take my final. Once this shitshow’s over we’re gonna be spending so much time together you’re gonna get sick of me.”

“Tommy, I’d never get sick of you. Breakfast sounds wonderful. A lazy morning with the love of my life.”

There wasn’t much talking after that, save for the occasional mutters of ‘I love you’ now that you could both say it freely. Mostly, it was soft kisses, gentle touches, and the two of you holding each other so close that eventually lulled you both into a deep sleep.

[cotncandyboifics]

1989 [High School AU]: Chapter 1

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 7 ~ Chapter 8 ~ Chapter 9 ~

Pairings: slight Logince, eventual Prinxiety & Logicality

Word count: 1,780

Story summary: Roman Prince is your stereotypical Jock, with everyone swooning after him. Every day a crowd of people follow him around, only to disperse at his personal whim. In reality, he's lucky to have such good acting skills that help him cover up the disdain he has for his life. He only wishes he could use his skills properly.

Patton Whitelock's always there to lend a helping hand, no matter who you are. If you need a favor or just need someone to talk to, go to him. In reality, he's been taught from a young age that kindness should be held above all else. No one suspects that he took it the wrong way.

Logan Montgomery is the smartest boy in the Senior class. He's stern, and most people are too intimidated to speak to him. In reality, he despises most all of his fellow students. He sticks to his studies and doesn't stray, for fear of being stuck in his father's shadow his whole life.

Virgil Black is the most emo kid in school, let alone 12th grade; everyone knows to leave him be. In reality, he's very fortunate. He has two parents who love him dearly. But everything beyond his life, everything within his mind, is utter chaos and turmoil.

what will happen when they're assigned a biology project together?

General CW: food, swearing, implied s-lf h-rm, non-graphic descriptions of s-lf h-rm scars, graphic and non-graphic descriptions of anxiety attacks and panic attacks, drug abuse, minor character intoxicated on heroin, non-graphic drug overdose description, sickness/description of sickness, blood, non-graphic descriptions of needles, (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: <none> (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: hook chapter go brr

...

Nice to meet you, where you been?

I can show you incredible things

Magic, madness, heaven, sin

Saw you there, and I thought

"Oh my god, look at that face

You look like my next mistake"

Love's a game, wanna play?

Roman checked his watch discreetly as he walked down the hall toward his first class. 7:58. He was almost late, but not quite. As he walked in, earning a glare from Mr. Berry and a few students, he glanced at the whiteboard. It read: "Tuesday, September 3 / Classwork: OT essay workday / Homework: OT Analysis and Essay due FRIDAY". The word "Friday" was written sloppily large and underlined. Roman just kept his sleepy poker face and walked to his desk, in the second-to-last row in the middle. He'd not noticed the shrunken figure at the desk next to him, whom everyone knew but no one liked. Virgil Black.

New money, suit and tie

I can read you like a magazine

Ain't it funny, rumors fly

And I know you've heard about me

So hey, let's be friends

I'm dying to see, how this one ends

Grab your passport, and my hand

I can make the bad guys good for a weekend.

Virgil shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets as he glared in Roman's general direction from behind bright purple bangs. His scowl deepened as Roman pulled out his notebook but didn't take his single earbud out, proceeding to doodle on the margins of his notebook.

Roman propped his head up on his right palm, tilting his head carelessly as he drew stars around a stick man's head. By this time, the plump red-faced man known as Mr. Berry, teacher of English 12, had taken his respected place at the front of the class for a quick lecture before they began classwork.

So it's gonna be forever,

Or it's gonna go down in flames

You can tell me when it's over,

If the high was worth the pain

Got a long list of ex-lovers,

They'll tell you I'm insane

'Cus you know I love the players,

And you love the game

"Good morning students," He said in a blubbering gritty voice, the sagging skin below his chin bouncing comically as he did so. "I trust you completed reading the rest of the book. Now, as I'm sure you've noticed, the Analysis and quotes along with your essay's final draft are due - both printed - on Friday. If you turn it in on Monday, it'll drop two letter grades, and any time after that is a zero. I should hope this first assignment will get you in the punctual mindset for my class." The large man was walking about the room, between desks checking for cheating or kids working ahead. He was strict, and didn't tolerate out-of-line behavior. As he completed his sentence, his eyes fell on Roman, who was still slouched apathetically, doodling, earbud in. The students watching Mr. Berry saw his face somehow achieve a deeper hue of red and his eyes bulge, as a bull does when it spots it's target. Roman however, didn't notice; a pale-faced Virgil tried to get his attention without the teacher noticing.

'Cus we're young and we're reckless,

We'll take this way too far

It'll leave you breathless,

Or with a nasty scar

Got a long list of ex-lovers,

They'll tell you I'm insane

But I've got a blank space baby...

And I'll write your name.

"Psst. Roman." he hissed in vain. Roman's earbud was in his right ear, the same side Virgil was sitting on, so quiet noises from that direction were inaudible to him. Despite the class's uneasiness as Mr. Berry made his way to Roman's seat, and though Roman was fully aware of the fat fuming man advancing on him, he made no change in expression or focus; merely, filled in the dark half of the yin yang he had sketched next to his name as he lightly mouthed the words of the song.

Mr. Berry stopped right in front of Roman's desk, looking down at him furiously. When Roman ignored him, he took further action. Just as Roman had completed the yin yang, a fat red hand came down loudly on his desk and a sudden "MR. PRINCE!!" Erupted from the old man's gullet.

Cherry lips, crystal skies

I can show you incredible things

Stolen kisses, pretty lies

You're the king baby I'm your queen

Find out what you want,

Be that girl for a month

Wait, the worst is yet to come... oh no.

Roman looked up at him slowly, but no trace of fear could be found on his face. Even, a slight smirk hinting at the corners of his mouth. But, not enough for the old man to notice.

"What sort of media is emitting from those... earphones?" Mr. Berry said, bug-eyed.

Roman held up the earbud that wasn't in his ear, looking at it. "You mean these?" He said.

Mr. Berry simply sighed and rolled his eyes frustratedly. "Yes, 'in those', Mr. Prince. You'd better have an adequate response."

Screaming, crying, perfect storms

I can make all the tables turn

Rose garden filled with thorns

Keep you second guessing, like

"Oh my god, who is she?"

I get drunk on jealousy

But you'll come back each time you leave

'Cus darling I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream.

Roman held the old man's gaze, as if searching for something within his grey-brown orbs. After a moment, he sighed quietly and said, "Taylor Swift."

His response earned a few snickers from other students, to which Mr. Berry scanned the room to see if he could bust two students in one go.

Most of the students thought he looked like Napoleon from the 1954 animated movie based on Animal Farm, a fair comparison. His balding head and fat body gave him an appearance that was quite comparable to a pig.

After a moment of glaring at a few of the known renegades of the class, he returned his focus to Roman. But, this time, he didn't appear as angry; rather, he was smiling gently, but his eyes still held an angry glow. "Since you see no point in listening to my lecture, I'm sure you wouldn't mind showing the class a sufficient outline for your first draft essay? Along with the requirements, of course," the senile man's smirk curled up into a grin as he spoke, tilting his head a bit. Roman merely smirked himself, and stood.

So it's gonna be forever,

Or it's gonna go down in flames

You can tell me when it's over,

If the high was worth the pain

Got a long list of ex-lovers,

They'll tell you I'm insane

'Cus you know I love the players,

And you love the game

Mr. Berry watched in moderate surprise as Roman walked swiftly past the rows of desks to the whiteboard, uncapped an expo marker, and began writing in neatly printed lettering. "Ok, so the final draft is due on Friday," He began, "So you should have your first draft completed by tonight. The essay must have at least five body paragraphs, a minimum of two quotes each-" Virgil watched, shocked, gripping his pencil so that his knuckles paled. "So I hope you've picked out your quotes already. The thesis needs to answer the prompt, obviously. Conclusion should be at least five sentences. So overall, about two or three pages. I'd recommend using this class time to create an outline in your notebook, and typing up a first draft. Have your second draft done tomorrow, and final details on Thursday. And because Mr. Berry is too... behind the times to use Google Classroom, you'll need to print it out and hand it in physically. I'm sure Mr. Berry isn't partial to the trees we're killing, so if you're in Environmental club, I'd not bother complaining." And with this final sentence, Roman touched up his writing on the board and walked back to his seat, never taking out his earbud.

'Cus we're young and we're reckless,

We'll take this way too far

It'll leave you breathless,

Or with a nasty scar

Got a long list of ex-lovers,

They'll tell you I'm insane

But I got a blank space baby...

And I'll write your name.

Mr. Berry was still standing over Roman's desk, now staring down at him with large eyes. He opened his mouth slightly to say something, but was interrupted by another student asking a question. From then on, Mr. Berry ignored Roman, which was an easy feat, as Roman did the same.

After a little over half an hour, the bell rang, and Roman slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked out. Mr. Berry considered asking him why he'd only doodled for the entirety of the class period and not worked on his essay, but his pride got the best of him, and he watched as the young man walked out of the room confidently.

Virgil had slipped out before Roman, and was now pretending to exchange things in his locker, which was unfortunately right next to Roman's. The tall jock walked up to his own locker, earning a scowl from the darker boy.

"What? Enjoy the show I put on in Mr. Diabetes' class?" Roman said, leaning against the lockers as Virgil shut his own. The dark boy just grunted and walked off, feeling Roman's eyes watching as he turned a corner. Roman smirked for the hundredth time that morning when he was gone and turned to open his own locker. When a few girls from the cheer team started to linger, flipping their hair and puffing out their chests, and Roman actively ignored them until he walked past close enough that a few of them let out squeals. He heard the usual murmurs from behind him, "he's so hot," and "I'd kill to be his date to Homecoming." He smirked to himself again, making his way to his Physics class.

...

Virgil spotted is best friend Patton in his usual seat as he walked into his second period Economics class. The boy smiled at Virgil up on seeing him, and waved happily.

"Hello Virgil!! how are you feeling this morning?" He said cheerily as Virgil took the seat next to him, sliding his backpack under the desk.

"Alright I guess." He thought about telling Patton about Roman, but thought better of it; Patton had enough on his plate to worry about as it was.

As for Patton, he had already taken to pulling out his notebook, preparing for a long class of note-taking. Economics was one of the most note-heavy classes either of the boys had, and usually required all their focus. As the teacher stood from his desk and turned on his projector, Virgil could've sworn he saw Patton staring at someone, but as soon as he looked, Patton focused on the teacher, readying his pencil. But, Virgil being the parano- vigilant person he was, followed what he thought was Patton's line of sight to... Logan Montgomery? What? Upon realizing who he had thought Patton was looking at, he brushed it off. There's no way Patton would be looking at him. is there?

[lifeofkaze]

An Art of Balance #9

Orion Amari x MC

 A/N: I swear @kc-needs-coffee I’m almost done borrowing KC, I just enjoy her so much xD

Warning: use of alcohol

 Word Count: ~ 2.600

______________________________________________________________ 

Chapter 9: A Knight in Shining Armour

Tired and beaten down, the Hufflepuff team trudged back towards the castle. It hadn’t taken the Ravenclaw seeker much longer to capture the Golden Snitch after KC’s Bludger had hit Lizzie. None of them was in the mood for much talking. Losing this match was a heavy blow to them.  

When they neared their Common Room, they could already make out the loud music and sound of chatter behind the narrow passage leading up to the entrance. Upon entering, they found themselves in the middle of a full-fledged post-match party taking place inside the round room. Their peers had set it up while they had been trying to wash off the pain of the loss. To the people of their House it didn’t matter if their team won or lost. They always found a reason to celebrate anyway.

Before long, Lizzie found herself chatting away with Penny and Tonks. The butterbeer in her hand spread a comfortable warmth from her stomach into the rest of her body, numbing the pain still throbbing inside her bruised shoulder.

Her foot was lightly tapping to the rhythm of the music that was blasting out of the enchanted speakers Face Paint Kid had mounted above the huge fireplace. They obscured the huge portrait of Helga Hufflepuff, who had retreated to a picture of her friend Rowena Ravenclaw near the Astronomy Tower. She couldn’t stand this ‘modern nonsense people called music nowadays’.

Lizzie had just downed the rest of her drink, when Penny nudged her and nodded inconspicuously towards one of the ledges that were protruding from the walls of the Common Room.

Skye was seated there all on her own, as had been her habit for the last weeks. She was nursing an empty mug in her hands and seemed to be brooding on something, deeply lost in thought.

“Someone should go talk to her,” Penny proposed softly. Lizzie contemplated passing on the task, but eventually her conscience got the better of her. She lifted her glass towards Penny and Tonks.

“I was going to get a refill anyway.”

She left her friends standing and made her way through the thick crowd towards the refreshment table, grabbing two fresh butterbeers before heading over to where Skye was sitting. She noticed people were giving the gloomy looking girl a wide berth and braced herself for being snapped at. But when Lizzie sat down next to her, she just accepted the drink Lizzie offered with a thankful smile.

The two of them were as used to fighting with each other as they were to making up again. There was no needs for many words or apologies. Lizzie held her mug out to Skye in a silent offer of reconciliation and Skye simply clanked hers against it before both took a deep swallow of the sweet liquid inside.

“Seems like Orion was right after all.”

Lizzie wasn’t looking at Skye as she spoke, rather staring at the bubbles rising up from the bottom of her glass. She was slowly swivelling it, watching the light from the fireplace illuminate the golden drink.

“This stupid quarrel likely cost us the match today. We can’t win if we don’t work together. It made getting our hands on the Cup just that more difficult.”

Skye chuckled wryly. “I’m always in for a challenge. How about you?”

Lizzie grinned back at her. “You know me.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while before Skye spoke up again. “Just wish I could have shown Rath the ropes. We’ve lost more times to Ravenclaw than I care to admit.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Lizzie sighed. “At least, KC and I can now talk to each other again like the civilised human beings we are.”  

Skye snorted. “Your choice of friends has always been questionable.” She was acting up this time, Lizzie could hear the teasing in her voice.

“That’s why I’m friends with you, I guess,” she shot back.

Both of them started giggling, all the tension that had built between them over the last weeks suddenly dissolving into fits of laughter. They were drawing wondrous glances from their peers.        

Calming down, Skye’s face suddenly grew serious again. “Sorry for what happened today. Shouldn’t have said all those things to Orion. Or you. Not a good move from me.”

“You should tell him that, not me.” Lizzie gave her a sideways glance. “I was a bit harsh to you as well. Sorry about that.”

Skye raised her mug. “Forgiven and forgotten. Glad we could solve this mess.”

Lizzie leaned closer to her. “Speaking of solving the mess…” She motioned to where Penny was standing with Tonks, watching them through the crowd. “You should go talk to her. You can’t hide from Penny forever; I’m sure you will find a way to work things out.”

Skye had suddenly gone pale, a pained expression showing on her face. “I don’t know, Jameson, you sure about this?”

Lizzie just shoved her off the ledge for an answer. Shooting another uncertain glance over her shoulder, Skye made her way towards Penny. With a relieved sigh, Lizzie leaned back against the cold stone wall, propping one foot up on the ledge before taking another sip. Finally things were starting to get normal again.

Her sitting alone didn’t go unnoticed, however. Within minutes she could spot Everett breaking from the crowd and heading towards her, fresh mugs of butterbeer in hand. Lizzie groaned inwardly. She wasn’t particularly keen on getting into a conversation with him. She didn’t mind her new teammate during practise, but Lizzie had started feeling uncomfortable with the way he had been looking at her recently.

Gulping down the remains of her drink, Lizzie tried to get up as fast as she could. But before she had a chance to escape into the mass of students, Everett had reached her and slid down onto the ledge next to her. He sat a little bit too close for Lizzie’s liking.

“What are you doing, sitting around as lonely? Fancy a drink?” He held the mug up for her to take.

Lizzie couldn’t think of a valid reason to refuse and gave in to her lot. “Sure, why not. Thanks.”

She awkwardly accepted the butterbeer, not quite knowing how to start a conversation with him. Her not being overly keen on it didn’t help either.

“You played well today,” she tried treading on safe ground. Nothing wrong with a little Quidditch talk.

“Not as good as you, though. You were fantastic!”

“Hmm,” Lizzie hummed in response. That was a flat out lie. Today had been one of the worst matches she had ever played. She had performed just as poorly as Skye and Orion had done, perhaps even worse.

Everett didn’t seem to sense her disagreement, however. “You were almost as good back when you played Beater. Crazy good aim. I could use a bit of improvement in that area.” He smiled mischievously at her. The uncomfortable feeling in Lizzie’s stomach increased.

“Maybe you could show me how, some time? So I can better protect you.”

Of course Lizzie knew he was referring to Quidditch, but somehow the way he was stressing ‘protect’, combined with her general discomfort around him, rubbed her the wrong way.

She bristled at him. “I don’t need any protection, let alone yours, thank you very much. I can perfectly handle myself,” she snapped indignantly.

Laughing, he raised his hands in defence. “Relax, kitty cat, no need to get all angry. Doesn’t suit your pretty face.”

“You want to be a better Beater? Here’s my tip for you: more practising, less flirting.” She set her drink down with a clank and got up. She had enough of his attitude for the evening.

But before she could make off, Everett had grabbed her wrist and pulled her down next to him again. Lizzie raised her eyebrows, her face anything but friendly.

Feeling the need to change tune with her, Everett ran his hand through his dark hair. “I’m sorry, don’t run away just yet,” he smiled apologetically.

Lizzie was still on edge, but her posture gradually softened again. She noticed he had pulled her down even closer to him than she had been before.

With a wink, Everett reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a silver flask. The light of the fire place was reflected in it as he was brandishing it in front of her face. “What do you say? Let’s have a drink on peace?”

Her eyes followed the blinking flask as he poured a shot into his mug. Lizzie wasn’t one to object to a little extra punch when it came to her drinks but she really wasn’t interested in talking to Everett anymore, let alone drinking with him.

She shook her head. “No, I’ll pass. I’ve had plenty already. I don’t want to end up doing anything stupid,” she added lightly.

Everett’s smile grew wicked. “Like this for example?”

He quickly leaned forward, putting his hand against the stone wall next to her face, effectively blocking her means of escape. To her horror, he started leaning in to kiss her. It was all she could do to duck under his arm supporting his weight to get away. Coming so close to him, a familiar scent reached her nose, fresh and spicy at the same time. It made her hesitate for a split second.

She knew the scent, but it thoroughly confused her to smell it on him of all people. It reminded her of the component of the Amortentia she had had problems placing.

Using her hesitation to his advantage, Everett got up as well, grabbing her arm before she could dart away. Anger flashing in her eyes, Lizzie tried to yank herself free.

“Is there a problem?”

Orion had suddenly appeared next to them. He looked calm and collected as ever, but his posture was tense, the tone in his voice firm. Lizzie sent a quick prayer to the heavens for sending him along just now.

Everett didn’t seem as happy. “Nothing to see here, Amari,” he snarled, but his territorial demeanour didn’t so much as make Orion flinch.

“That is fortunate, because I am aware that McNully’s Kneazle is up in our dormitory, chewing away on your Transfiguration essay. I believe, it is due on Monday?”

The aggressiveness visibly drained out of Everett as he turned pale. “It took me three weeks to finish that assignment! I’m going to make a hat out of this fleabag!” He raced towards the round door at the far end of the Common Room and vanished behind it.

Lizzie’s brown furrowed in concern. “He’s not going to do anything to Kneil, is he?”

“Don’t worry, Kneil is somewhere in the castle, probably hunting his dinner,” Orion smirked in response. “To be honest, McNully saw Everett hitting on you and sent me to your rescue.”

“How gallant,” Lizzie giggled.

Orion wasn’t even trying to hide his grin. Instead, he nodded towards her arm. “How is your shoulder feeling?”

Lizzie shrugged it off with a laugh. “Better than Everett’s ego, I image.”

Her eyes followed the path he had taken through the crowd. “I wonder what’s been going on lately; Everyone seems to be out of their minds,” she mused.

Including her, apparently. She could still smell the lovely scent lingering in the air, just as strongly as it had been before. She fought the urge to inhale deeply.

Orion laughed lowly. “That’s how it goes. I remember my fifth year vividly. Between O.W.L.s and people getting interested in dating each other, it was… “ A mysterious smile played about his lips for a moment, amusement sparking in his eyes. “Let’s say it was a singular experience.”

Lizzie remembered what Rowan had told her about Orion having a history when it came to dating. She felt self-conscious invading his privacy like that, but her curiosity and the fair share of butterbeer she’d drunk by now got the better of her.

“So, did you get to do some?” she asked in what she hoped was a nonchalant tone.

Orion took a sip from his drink. “Did I get to do what?”

Lizzie felt herself blush, glad the light emanating from the roaring fire hid the changing colour of her face. “Dating, I mean. Did you get to go on some?”

One corner of Orion’s mouth quirked up, the mischievous sparkle in his dark eyes intensifying. His lopsided smirk gave him a totally different presence than what Lizzie was used to seeing on him. Despite herself, she found herself staring at his oddly compelling smile, quickly shaking out of it as soon as she realised.

“A bit here and there.”

He knew his ominous answer only intensified Lizzie’s curiosity. So before she could ask, he added “Nothing serious, mind you. No real commitment from both sides.”

Not satisfied at all by this vague answer, Lizzie blinked at him, now even more curious than before. It felt completely out of place discussing this topic with her Quidditch captain, but she just couldn’t resist.

“You never mentioned seeing anyone. Why did you never tell us about any of them, or bring them to one of our matches?”

He slightly shook his head, his face changing to a more thoughtful expression. “Nothing worthwhile ever came of it. And I don’t know whether I would’ve been able to balance both things at the same time. Being the team captain and just me.”

Somehow, Lizzie was not entirely sure they were still talking about the same thing they had in the beginning of their conversation. She had noticed the tinge of frustration creeping into Orion’s voice, however.

Before she could reply though, a hand snaked around her waist and Rowan appeared at her side. Lizzie let out a small gasp of pain as she rested her head on Lizzie’s injured shoulder, a girlish giggle escaping her mouth.

Although Rowan didn’t exactly dismiss alcoholic drinks as a whole, Lizzie knew her to be rather restrained when it came to drinking at parties, especially since she had been appointed prefect. It made seeing Rowan as drunk as she obviously was even stranger.

“Lizzie, there you are! I have been looking for you all over the place,” she shouted into Lizzie’s ear a lot louder than she had to. Lizzie tilted her head away from her to protect her eardrums from bursting.

“Skye has been looking for you, you should go find her,” Rowan explained, her voice slurry. She tried to talk matter-of-factly but the slight swaying as she stopped leaning on Lizzie for support vastly undermined her effort to appear sober.

Scanning the crowd, Lizzie could see Skye joking around with Tonks and Penny. Apparently, they had been able to calm the waves. It did not appear to her as if Skye was searching for anyone though, let alone her.

She started telling Rowan, but was silenced by the pointed look her friend gave her. Her eyes flickered to Orion for a moment, who was watching them patiently. The penny finally dropped on her.

“I’d better go and see what she wants then.” She winked at Orion, her hand resting on his arm for a moment. ”Thanks for being my knight in shining armour.”

She left the two of them standing, while she made her way towards her friends, the spicy scent that had shaken her earlier still hanging in the air.

[imagineofallkindsxxx]

Eternal Flame- Part 6/?

No Need to be a Show Off

Summary: 'You never know whats in a persons heart until you truly know them' - Belle French, Once Upon a Time

Singing. Thats all what Alexandra Gilbert has cared about since she was young and all she would care about until she met him.

With Alexandra fighting vampires, werewolves and all between she may do a thing she vowed never to do, fall in love.

And to think it all started with a walk in the woods...

Needless to say history was a tad awkward after Rebekah made an appearance. I mean Elena and Bonnie were glaring at Rebekah throughout the entire period, not to mention the presence of Stefan, me giving James a kick and quietly reprimanding every time he attempts to stare at Rebekah like the creep he is. Nevertheless, I continued to listen to Mr Saltzman or Ric as he insists on me calling him. He is kind and has been looking after me and my siblings after the passing of Jenna and I respect and care for him.

After fifty minutes of being taught about Native Americans and wondering why I decided to take AP history for a subject when its genuinely the most mind numbing subjects, the bell finally rang which was the indication to pack up before going to the next class.

"Your homework for tomorrow is to read pages 14-20" Mr Saltzman said, at least its just reading knowing other teachers it’ll be full on essays. I sighed along with most of the class before going to our next class. James is in English while I'm in Chem, shame would love to see James and Mr Jones in the same room after yesterdays prank. I bid James goodbye before splitting up, I saw my twin up ahead and ran up as quick as I could in these shoes.

"Elena, care to tell me what the hell is going on? Why's Stefan here and not eating some sorority girl?" Confused at how my sisters boyfriend has chosen to spend his time at school. Her doe eyes look at me nudging me into the side of the corridor hoping less people will hear her.

"Its Klaus" I look at her to elaborate on it "He's told Stefan to watch his ‘new asset' so he’s here acting like he’s some control freak bodyguard" rolling her eyes 

"Dick" I said plainly starting to walk with her

"Who? Klaus or Stefan?"

"Do I have to pick?" She laughed before stopping in front of her biology classroom

"This is me, talk later?" she questioned making me give her a strained smile. Honestly sometimes when alone we can get along its just when everyone else is there to complicate the matters. When I say everyone else I really just mean the Salvatore brothers.

I head along two more classes before hitting my chemistry class, looking around the class to see who would be the best person to be partners with for the year. That’s the one good thing about Jones is that he doesn’t believe in seating plans because 'its your fault if you fail." I searched the class then saw a shade of familiar blonde hair in a French plait with an empty seat, I race towards the blonde.

"Ashleigh Jackson." I said grinning at my best girl friend making her look up from the notebook she was most likely doodling on.

"Alexandra Gilbert" she exclaimed before giving me a hug before the teacher came into class. "I haven’t seen you for ever! How have you been?"

"I've been good, I've just been so busy, remember that program I decided to enter? Took up most of my time." I told her referring to the programme which helped children with hearing impairments with learning to play instruments or singing. "What about you though? How's Dylan?" I asked about her dick of a boyfriend but with the shift in her demeanour makes me wish I didn't.

"Me and Dylan broke up a few weeks ago." I looked at her in sympathy feeling horrible about asking but makes me pull my arm around her shoulder knowing that although I thought he was a terrible person Ash still loved him.

"Well... I guess this calls for a girl night. Popcorn. Cringey rom coms. Vodka." This made her laugh a little giving me a smile but before she could say anything Mr. Jones walked in to class.

"Welcome to AP chemistry. This is going to be a difficult and long lesson for not just you but me also." he starts off with making me roll my eyes at the asshole of  teacher we are going to be forced to listen to for the rest of the year "Can any one tell me what empirical formula is?" Knowing what it is I wrote it down on my notebook while Ash put her hand up slowly.

"Miss Jackson"

"Is it the simplest ratio of molecules making up a compound?"

"Are you asking or telling me miss Jackson?"

"I'm telling you" she said with confidence.

"What is Coulombs Law?" He asked moving on from Ash, no one dared to put their hand up, to end this torture I put my hand up .

"Miss Gilbert?"

"Coulombs Law is the amount of energy that an electron has depends on its distance from the nucleus of an atom. It has the formula e=k(q1*q20)/r." I told him in the most confident manner.

"Correct. There’s no need to be a show off Miss Gilbert" He replied making me go scarlet learning that its more torturous answering his questions rather than the silence that issues when he asks one.

This continued for the next 10 minutes, the class answering questions then getting berated by the man supposedly supporting us.

Once he finished with his power trip he handed out work sheet. I looked over it and saw it was a five double paged work sheet. Making me wonder if this man should be a teacher at all.

"This is a worksheet so I can see your knowledge and capabilities. If you are below 70% correct you will be dropped from this class. You will get today and tomorrow to finish. You may begin. In complete silence." 70% is this guy mental? He hasn’t even began teaching and already judging us, pathetic. But we all done as he said and began the lengthy work sheet until the bell rang. He then took the work sheets back in while all of us rushed out of the class after packing up our stuff.

Once outside me and Ash began to talk once again.

"God I hate him." I said "'No need to be a show off'" I  mimicked his annoyingly monotone voice making Ash laugh.

"'Are you asking or telling me Miss Jackson?' I don't know am I asking or telling you to go and slam your head against the lockers?" she said rolling her eyes making her grin when I gave a huge laugh.

"Ashleigh Jackson" I 'reprimanded'

"What? Makes a change from being you." God I love this girl she makes me forget the while Stefan/Klaus/Original/Dopelganger thing for a while.

"I have to get to class, talk at lunch so we can organise that girls night?" I questioned leaving her seeing her nod with a smile.

I walked into math and saw a hero haired vampire sitting in the middle of the class where I used to sit last year. I sat down next to him looking straight ahead.

"I think your in the wrong class, Elena is in French." I told him in a 'could care less that a hungry, ripper, free of humanity vampire is sitting next t me in my math class' tone but with my voice higher pitch and heart rate increasing I doubt he bought it.

"You see I would agree with you if I didn’t compel Kyle- you know Kyle, right? Anyway to look after her while I watch over you." He informed me of the compulsion of a class mate and borderline stalker tendencies.

"Me? Why?" I questioned doubting he’ll answer.

"Dunno, all I know is Klaus told me to look after 'The Gilbert twins' I didn't question it, don't really care to be honest" Making me roll my eyes. Klaus told him to watch over me? Why? I'm not a walking blood bank for his hybrids like Elena or his newly undaggered and potentially dangerous little sister, so why? Before I could attempt to question him albeit doubting I’d get any answers the teacher came in and started to give us a recap of what we would have done just before the start of summer. Mr Gold was always a decent teacher.

I tried to listen and take notes but it was difficult putting the question of Klaus interesting to the side and focusing on algebra. Before I knew it the bell rang. I stood up and got my stiff before rushing towards the door but got pulled back by the youngest Salvatore.

"What’s the rush Little Gilbert? You need to relax, be like me! That is what you told Elena earlier right?" he sarcastically questioned making me glare and get in his face.

"Yeah right after I told her to dump your ass and be like you 'don't care about anything'." Pulling my arm out of his grip and walking past the classes not missing Ric looking over worriedly giving me a look but I just nodded that I’m fine.

I walked into the class next to Rics my second favourite class. AP American Government and Politics. Its a big jump from music but its just something I get also helps to stop being treated like a child at functions when your able to talk about political situations, knowing more than the person your talking to.

I sat in the middle of the class not knowing any of the people in the class due to me being the only person in both supernatural and human groups whose remotely interested in politics well that was until a blonde original surprisingly walked into the class looking around to find a seat before sitting to at the front of the class unaware of my presence.

In front of me and the rest of the classes desks were a piece of paper listed 'Curricular Requirements' with the syllabus on it, while all of us were reading it another blonde came into the class however this was expected as it was Miss Gold and what the students have gathered is the cousin to my math teacher.

"Hello class, its lovely to see you all after the long break but I hope your ready to learn. For all those new faces let me introduce myself. I'm Miss Gold and I'm going to be your Advance Placement Government and Politics teacher. To start off I have given you all the syllabus and curriculum requirements for this year. I am going to start from the top down so be ready to learn about the foundations of American democracy." she told us writing on the board before turning to the class with a reassuring smile "now before I begin I just want to tell you all that there are no silly or stupid questions in this class and if you don't understand something let me know. Also, if any of you need anything or need to talk my door is always open." She told us, god she is basically the opposite of Mr Jones. So refreshing. 

"Right we are going to do a recap from last year. What is the different structures of local, state and federal governments?" Waiting a minute to pick someone "Courtney" Courtney gave a swift and correct answer to the question Miss Gold asked.

"What is one of the founding principles that guided the establishment of the United States Government?" she looked around the sea of hands brief her eyes connected with Rebekah’s "I'm sorry I don’t know your name, miss..."

"Rebekah Mikaelson"

"Well Rebekah you may answer" she knew exactly what to say due to the fact how she probably knew the founding fathers and the principles they decided to use.

After the little quiz she decided to tell the class an overview of what the school year entails in a more detailed manner yet her soothing vice managed to calm the classes anxiety of the seemingly difficult year ahead. Although I was listening and taking notes my mind was still on how Stefan was told to 'watch over the Gilbert twins'. It was confusing how I had to be 'looked after' by a blood thirsty vampire for a reason the he isn’t aware of. Wonderful.

All I know now is that its lunch and that means music studio I go. Just as I was about to leave the cafeteria after picking up some lunch I saw Rebekah sitting their surprisingly alone. I would expect her to be swarmed by people but she was just alone looking down at her 'lunch'. I looked around before walking over to the blonde where she looked up at me.

"Hey, are you waiting on anyone?" I asked kindly as possible

"No. why?" Having a suspicious look on her face after hearing my friends talk about her in an unpleasant way and most likel not very subtly.

"Well I was just wondering if you wanted to come and sit with my friends?" I offered wondering if it was a good idea or not, my sister would kill me but honestly I can empathise with Rebekah, I was her in first day freshman year before I headed to music and met the three most important boys in my life- including Jeremy at this moment- and had a group that would last forever.

Rebekah smiled at me before nodding taking up my offer. I told her to follow me walking out of the cafeteria and down the hall to the music studio Mr Curtis lets us use at lunch and after school.

I heard the boys before I saw them meaning Rebekah probably heard them way back.

"-insane?! That is the worst song to pick!" I heard Sam yell, I stopped in my tracks making Rebekah stop and gave me a look of confusion.

"I'm mentally preparing myself to deal with an arguing group of men like children" this made Rebekah laugh a little bit

"No 'Gives You Hell' is a way better option than 'So Am I'!" Mark yelled

"There’s no way in hell am playing that song when-" I walked in at that moment partially regretting bringing Rebekah along to see this mess of a class.

"Thank God voice of reason is here!" He yelled up to the sky "What’s the best: 'Gives You Hell', 'So Am I' or 'Monster'?" I looked at them confused

"I thought we agreed on 'Mr Brightside' then 'Don't Speak' during the summer?" They all started at me for a few seconds taking in what I just said before remembering the conversation in the park where we picked the first two songs to sing when we perform at the Grille.

"Oh yeah."

"Forgot about that"

"Who's this?" Mark asked confused why their was a blonde in the room

"This is Rebekah. She's new and alone so I invited her to practice." I off handedly said

"Oh your in history with us!" James yelled

"Indoor voices Jamie" Sam reprimanded him making James throw a  drum stick hitting him on the head making us laugh.

"Sorry about them. They’re literally children." I apologized for their behaviour watching them fight over the thrown drumstick while me and Rebekah ate our lunch.

"I grew up with five brothers, I'm used to it." Making me laugh. Five brothers. I only know about Klaus and Elijah. I dread to think there three more Klaus's come out of the woodwork.

"Are you boys done yet?" I asked over the nose giving them a look "We have a guest" making them look down like I was their mother giving them a row.

"He started it" Mark pointed to James.

"You litt-"

"Enough!" I point to Mark "Guitar" then Sam “Bass" and finally James "Drums. Now." Making them grumble before getting their instruments. "You don't mind us playing do you?" I ask Rebekah, she shook her head.

"Not at all, just wondering what type of music you play" she smiled sitting down on a chair we use occasionally. I stood on the stage before we began to play. Over and over again.

"...Cause I'm Mr Brightside" I finished.

"That was really good. You all have a gift. Especially you Alexandra"

"oooooh Alexandra" James said in a tone making Rebekah look confused as I attempted to hit him over the head

"She hates being called Alexandra" Sam filled in as I continued to try and hit him with his own drum stick. I composed myself before turning towards my new friend?

"Please call me Andie. Or Alex. Up to you really, just not Alexandra"

"As long as you call my Bex" she mirrored the smile on my face.

The bell rang before we had a chance to practice again only thing was that I had music and then a free. So just down the hall.

"What class are you going to?" she asked me, hoping her newly made friend was in the same class as her.

"Music. You?" getting my stuff together to walk down two class rooms.

"Math" I gave her a small smile.

"We'll be here until half four if you want to come along?"

"Thank you for the offer Andie but I'm trying out for cheer."

"Another blonde intelligent cheerleader, with any luck you’ll replace Jackson" I heard Sam say while walking past us making me hit him on back of the head "Nice to meet you Bex"

"Was a pleasure Bekah" Mark told her with a smile while walking by but James had to take it further by giving her a piece of paper.

"Call me Bex, love to get to know you more" giving her a wink

"Don't be a creep. Leave the poor girl be" giving him a glare then a push.

"In all serious here is my number" I gave her my number to put in her new phone "Text if you need anything" she gave me a grateful smile almost as if she was shocked at the kindness given to her by someone. "Enjoy math"

"I will she laughed as we split ways."

As we head into music where we saw Mr Curtis.

"Ah wonderful the whole band is here" making me smile at him. After the class filled he started to teach as it was a double everyone got bored except 'the teachers pet’s as everyone called us but we took it as a compliment. Just cause they don't understand the art of music like we do doesn’t mean they have to be a dick about it.

He told us to split into four and discuss a piece of music which would resonate with what he was talking about so we spoke about Mozart’s Requiem and how it relates to the music notes that we had to discuss.

Honestly the entire class went like that as Mr Curtis let us do anything for the second period as long as it had to do with playing or discussing music in some sort of fashion. This was usually the time we discussed original songs and what we would sing next week at the Grille. Today we were writing our last verse of our original song we are hoping to perform one day.

"Well what’s going on in this group?" Mr Curtis asked looking over our piece of paper "Original song?" we nodded bashfully.

"We have the bass and drum beat, most of the lyrics and just have to do the guitar solo." I told him which he smiled at seeing our appreciation and enthusiasm about music and making it, you can see it in his eyes that he has faith in us.

"Good luck. I better be the first one to hear it." he told us.

After half hour of that the bell rang insinuating that it was class over luckily for me it’s my last class of the day. The other three not so much.

"I hate you so fucking much.” Mark said the three boys jealous of how my last period was a free.

"Tough luck Mark, enjoy history" making him glare the boys leaving me. I decided to go to the bleachers and study a bit for the rest of the Chem test tomorrow.

"Alex!" I heard looking around I saw a cheerleader trying to get my attention seeing it was Caroline. I grabbed my stuff and stalked towards Caroline wondering what was wrong. I give her a look asking her to explain why she shouted my name.

"Were you hanging out with Rebekah today?!" she asked although she seemed to already know the answer.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Why? She's an evil slutty Original."

"Caroline!" I exclaimed "She's not a slut or evil she’s a lonely girl wanting the high school experience. give her a break." I walked away to the far away end of the bleachers not wanting to hear anymore 'warnings' about Rebekah. I studied well tried to anyway my mind still angry at how Caroline and the rest of the group only see black and white. they have to know there is a grey part. After studying for a good 20 minutes I felt someone sit next to me. I looked over to see the ‘evil slut’ herself.

“I take it from you not being in class you have a ‘free’? I believe that is what they are called?” I smiled a bit thinking about the lack of knowledge Rebekah has on 21st century slang.

“Yeah, it’s called a free. I come up here to study, its quiet and relaxing. What’s your excuse?”

“I’m going to try out for cheer. I better go. Something tells me I do not want to keep Caroline Forbes waiting.” I gave a laugh at the way she spoke out the baby vampire she could probably kill in a millisecond. "That was sarcasm by the way" I shake my head and chuckle a little.

“I’ll see you later. Good luck.” The bell rang two or three minutes after she left however, I waited a bit for students to leave or head to practice before heading back in to practice some more when. I walked by the girls trying out and shouted

“Good luck girls” walking back into school music room to practice with the boys. Hopefully it will be productive?

*************************************************

I'm missing the bonfire for this. One of the best parties of the year I mean Ash helped organize it and I’m missing it because of an annoying humanity-less vampire is running around town.

"I'll lure Stefan away from the bonfire. then when he's distracted..." Elena began to explain the plan as a whole with Alaric finishing.

"I’ll shoot him"

"Can't Bonnie just ju-ju him or something?" Damon suggested annoyingly.

"Yes great idea Damon. Lets get the witch to bail you and your brother out the hundredth time." I sarcastically replied thinking that they rely too much on the magic that Bonnie holds and it always end up with her hurt. Does he care? Absolutely not he’s Damon Salvatore after all. He glares at me intensely as I matched his expression.

"I'm trying to keep Bonnie out of this. I don't trust Stefan won't hurt her. Caroline are you covered?" my sister agreed making Damon remove his eyes from me and land on my sisters. Caroline answered my sisters question.

"Yes! I will make sure that the old Forbes jail cell is prepped and ready."

"We're forgetting a key player here. Rebekah?" this making me roll my eyes "Wherever Stefan goes, the blonde ponytail tends to follow." It would be Damon who made this remark I mean after all he’s perfect.

"Which is why it’s your job to keep her away" Elena tells Damon him having the easiest roll in this plan.

"How?!? She's an Original. Last time I checked, we're out of daggers." he complained, shocker.

"So preoccupy her with your charm" Elena told him, I’m not entirely sure if it was a joke or not.

"Might have better luck finding the dagger."

"What charm?" me and Ric both answered

"Are you ever not going to be mad at me for a day?" Damon asked both of us

"Doubtful"

"Unlikely"

Then right at that moment the newest hybrid came in late looking around like everything was just fine.

"Sorry I'm late. What's going on?" He asked the group.

"We need you to raid your mom's vervain supply. Enough to keep Stefan down for a while." Elena told him which to be fair was a good idea but Tyler didn’t think so.

"You can't do that to Stefan" He said looking confused and borderline angry at the group.

"Why not?" Caroline asked her hybrid boyfriend wondering what was with the new attitude.

"Ty he’s out of his mind he needs our help aka the vervain"

"Trust me Tyler, it's in his best interest" Me and Elena tried to convince him to help.

"But its not in Klaus's" He defended making me cock my head.

"But Klaus is the bad guy, Tyler. You know, why are you acting like some freaky, hybrid, slave minion" Caroline questioned her boyfriends behaviour. Slave? Could that mean?

"Uh-oh" I heard looking up it was Damon who was looking at Tyler suspiciously, I looked at the Salvatore and said

"He isn't?" narrowing my eyes as he made a look like 'looks like it Hun'

"What?" Ric questioned both the Gilbert and Salvatore being on the same page for once which was terrifying itself.

"Klaus made me who I am Caroline. I owe him everything." Tyler said once again defending Klaus

"Oh boy"

"He is"

"Okay can we cool it with the commentary, please." giving both of us a look.

"What's going on?" Elena questions wanting to be in the know of Tylers 'condition' but  before anything else can be said Damon grabs a vervain dart from Rics desk with no one else noticing.

"I'm just going to go." He tried to escape and probably go to tell his master so  as he starts to walk towards the door Damon vampire runs towards the young hybrids and injects him with the vervain dart making Tyler collapse.

"What are you doing?!?" Caroline exclaimed both shocked and angry.

"He's been sired." Damon vaguely explained the condition of the Lockwood.

"What?" Ric asks wanting clarification of what that means.

"Sired, he feels loyal to Klaus because Klaus's blood created him" I explained briefly.

"Loyal how?" Elena wanted more information on how Tyler is going to act.

"He'll seek acceptance from his master." I began with Damon finishing

"Its really rare. maybe not so much in hybrids"

"How do I fix him?" Caroline asks us, I smile sympathetically.

"Get a new boyfriend" Making eveyone in the room act in some sort of negative way towards him.

When we begin to set the plan into motion Damon grabs a hold of my arm.

"I swear the next Salvatore to grab me is going to get a pencil to the eye." he let go after I said that.

"How did you know about the sire bond?" I cocked my head furrowing my eyebrows

"I don't know."

I walked into the bonfire seeing Ash socialising, I gave her a little smile and wave before going over to Sam.

"I'm bored" he told me when I reached him "entertain me".

"I'm not a circus act Sam."

"You look like one" I gave him a look making him smile.

"I'm going somewhere I won’t be verbally abused."

"Where? You don't have any other friends" I narrowed my eyes grabbing his drink and downing it before shoving it back in his hand.

I walked over to the beer tap and got my own drink before settling my eyes on the annoying vampire and the blonde original. I have no idea how but he is actually managing to somehow charm Rebekah? Such an unusual concept. But just as I was about to stop stalking them and see if Ash is free it started to get interesting with Rebekah standing up speaking with Damon also standing before Rebekah stabs Damon in the stomach with a sit causing him to sit back down. The scene playing in front of me makes me laugh a little.

I walk around trying to find someone to socialise with and saw Sam, James and Mark sitting around.

"I'm bored as hell" Mark started

"No 'Hello Andie. How have you been?'" I said sarcastically

"I don’t particularly care though."

"Charming"

"Do you want to leave" James asked

"I've not drunk anything. Parents would kill me. I can drive?" all four of us agreed that leaving the party would be much more beneficial to our mental health.

"I'm telling you I reckon I have a chance with that Rebekah" James said making all of us laugh

"And I reckon your dr-" I started before stopping by falling over seeing blurry images of my friends making out bits and pieces. The back of my head throbbing I saw Sam and James running to get help at least that’s what I think they were doing.

My eyes were fluttering shut, I’m feeling really tired but I got slapped.

"No, don't you dare all asleep you still owe me ten bucks for that cinema ticket I paid for. You are not dying. You hear me!" I tried to keep my eyes open but they just closed. This is it I’m going to die. I felt Mark doing CPR while yelling something then all of a sudden I felt some metallic tasting liquid go down my throat making me open my eyes fully trying to pull away from the wrist of Damon Salvatore.

"Thank you" I muttered in begrudged gratitude.

"What!?" was the next think I heard.

"You were dead and now your..."

"I'm so confused what just happened?"

"Are they on vervain?" I heard Damon whisper in my ear while helping me up. I shook my head.

He walked over to the three if them

"You saw nothing. you four were bored at the party and decided to leave early. Alex didn’t fall, I didn’t feed her my blood, the four of you just left." he compelled making me look away from the three of them, feeling bad for taking away their memories.

"Hey Damon, what are you doing here?" James asked dubiously knowing my dislike for the vampire.

"I'm going to take Alex home to her sister. Lets go Alex" he pulled me away I stopped him and looked at my friends.

“I'll see you in homeroom tomorrow.” With a smile watching them walk away after saying goodbye.

He sped me to the Salvatore boarding house. The last time I was here I nearly died lets hope its not a repeat. I saw Elena and she looked smoky? And had a burn on her cheek?

"I've got cream for that burn mark. come with me" he beckons my sister to follow making me look at them curiously.

I sat on the couch closing my eyes not wanting to go anywhere near Damon’s room especially with Elena in it. I heard a noise, opening my eyes and looked up to see Ric.

"Where’s Elena?"

I pointed upstairs closing my eyes again before saying Damons room. After a few seconds Ric appeared with Elena.

"C'mon Alex time to go."

Three of us left the boarding house in a car that I didn't know making me question who owns this vehicle. Ric saw my confusion at the new car.

"My car got blown up." Not exactly the best explanation but the best they had so far

"Quite an eventful party"

*************************************************

A/N: This was huge but I thought I'd split it into two parts, the episode and the Rebekah/Ashleigh/band part.

Next chapter is the dynamic between Alex and Caroline which will be updated tomorrow

Also anything to do with the chemistry and/or politics classes came off the internet so if it's incorrect sorry.

Hope you enjoyed reading.

Any British slang, spelling or grammar problems let me know.

Please comment any positive or negative feedback

Thanks for reading Lovelies xxx

[king-finnigan]

Looking Up For Heaven - Oneshot

Summary: The first time you touch your soulmate, you remember things - the other life, people call it. Jaskier's heard the stories of this other life: witches, wizards, magic, medieval but not quite medieval. His flatmate, Yennefer, has already met her soulmate, and remembers the other life, but Jaskier is still not sold on the idea, and would rather not be a part of this bullshit.

Pairing/Warnings: Geralt x Jaskier, Modern AU, Soulmate AU

A/n: Look this is either the most creative fic I’ve ever written, or just one big pile of flaming garbage, that’s honestly up to you to decide. Title and idea from Glory by Bastille (and my fav song ever!). As always, thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy, and don’t hesitate to leave a like and a comment if you feel like it!

You can also read this on AO3! M A S T E R L I S T

Jaskier sighs as he stares at his reflection the mirror, hand threading through his hair. It’s slightly greasy and he remembers he forgot to take a shower today. Again. For the third day in a row. Goddammit.

He sighs again, looking at his flatmate in the reflection of the mirror, as she pulls her raven curls up into a ponytail. “Do I really have to go, Yen?” He ignores how whiny he sounds, instead leaning on the wash basin with his forearms, chin resting on them as he pouts at Yennefer’s reflection.

She scoffs from where she’s sitting on the edge of the once-white bath, tying her ponytail with one of her girlfriend’s scrunchies, the bright yellow a stark contrast with the rest of her exclusively black outfit. “Yes, you have to go, Julian. You promised a week ago that you would, and Triss will be really upset if you don’t show up.”

She gets up from the side of the tub, taking the half step towards the wash basin, pushing him aside. “Scoot, idiot.” She takes her eyeliner from the open cabinet next to the mirror, uncapping it, leaning her elbow next to the sink as she slowly, deliberately, traces a line over her eyelid. “I swear to god, if you make her sad, I will throw all your food in the trash and bend the needle of your record player.”

He frowns, leaning back against the edge of the sink, arms crossed in front of him. “Fine, whatever, I’ll go, then. Just don’t break my record player. It took me five weekends at bloody Starbucks to afford it.” He suppresses a shudder at the memory of working customer service.

Yennefer finishes her eyeliner, grabbing her mascara from the cabinet. He takes the eyeliner from where it’s lying on the sink, twirling it in his hands, as she rolls her eyes at him. “Don’t even know why you want a record player so badly, but okay. You know you can just stream music, right?”

He scoffs. “Oh, please, everyone knows vinyl sounds better than digital.”

She side-eyes him, eyes widening for a bit as she looks at her reflection again. “Okay, grandpa, if you say so.”

He sighs again, still twirling the eyeliner in his hands, as she finishes her mascara, pulling her ponytail taut again – even though it’s not sagging in the slightest. She finishes her makeup with a dark lipstick, before casting a last wink at her reflection and turning her back to the mirror, leaning against the sink, next to him. “Alright, what is it, Julian? We’ve been living together long enough for me to recognize an ‘I’m so sad please ask me if I’m okay’-sigh when I hear one.”

He side-eyes her for a moment, but she simply stares at him, dark-painted lips pursed, violet eyes stubborn, waiting for him to speak. After a few moments he sighs again, relenting under her unforgiving gaze. “Fine, I really don’t feel like going to this party.” He looks at her, cutting her off before she can scold him again: “Yes, I know Triss would be upset if I didn’t show up, but, like, I don’t know anyone there, and you know I hate crowds.”

She rolls her eyes. “Here’s an idea: maybe if you made some fucking friends for once, you’d actually know someone at this party. You really need to go out more, you can’t just sit in the flat all day, pretending to study.”

He gapes at her. “I do study, like, all the time! Hell, I have two essays due next week that I need a lot of time for. And if I didn’t go to the party, I’d actually be able to finish them in time.”

She scoffs, shaking her head slightly as she looks at the once-blue tiles of the wall opposite them. “Yeah, sure. I know you procrastinate, Julian. A lot. You’re just using these essays as an excuse to stay at home. We’re both well aware you wouldn’t do shit.”

He sighs, throwing his head back a bit. “Okay, fine, maybe I would spend all evening bingeing Netflix. Still, that’s a hell of a lot more fun than standing in the corner of some bar all evening. I love Triss, I really do, but I’m not willing to spend all those hours bored out of my mind and getting panic attacks when there’s too many people.”

She sighs, bumping into his shoulder slightly. “I know, alright? I know you can’t really talk to people and that crowds make you anxious, and I know that this evening is probably going to be a waste of time for you, but you promised, okay? You promised Triss that you would be there and she’s really looking forward to seeing you again. She’s going to be really disappointed if you don’t show up.” Her voice drops to barely above a whisper. “And so am I. You really need to go out more, Julian, you can’t spend the rest of your life cooped up in this apartment. You’re never going to make other friends or meet your soulmate if you sit inside all day.”

He scoffs at his feet when she mentions soulmates, but she simply ducks her head to meet his eyes. “Please, Julian, just go to this one party. If not for yourself or Triss, then for me.”

He sighs again, throwing his head back, looking at the mouldy ceiling. “Fine, fine, I’ll go. If only to stop you nagging.”

She laughs. “Oh, please, I’m never going to stop nagging. Speaking of,” she looks at him, one perfect eyebrow arched up, “you seriously need a change of clothes before we leave.”

He frowns at her. “As opposed to changing my clothes after we leave?” He laughs as she smacks him in the back of his head.

“You know what I meant, idiot. Seriously, at least wear some jeans, you look like you live in your mum’s basement and play Fortnite all day.” She gestures at his sweatpants, and he rolls his eyes. “And at least wear, like, a hoodie. It’s cold outside and that thin-ass shirt won’t be enough to keep you warm.”

He rolls his eyes, but pushes away from the sink anyway, calling over his shoulder as he walks to his bedroom. “Fine, alright! Jeez, mum. What’s next? You’ll tell me I have to comb my hair and part it in the middle so I can bedazzle my soulmate with my charming good looks?”

He rummages through his closet, pulling out the least crumpled jeans out from the pile of unfolded clothes, as he hears Yennefer letting herself fall on his unmade bed. “Actually, yes. I think you’d look dashing with a middle part and you’d be sure to instantly woo your soulmate once you meet them.”

He snorts as he pulls off his sweatpants, wiggling into the slightly too skinny jeans. “I don’t think I’m going to meet my soulmate, like, ever.” He struggles with the button a bit, sucking in his stomach. “Don’t think I want to.”

Yennefer looks at him, frowning a bit. “Why not? It’s such great fun, honestly. Like, you get all these memories of this cool-ass other life, and you get an added bonus of, you know, having a soulmate. Like, me and Triss didn’t even have to date, I immediately got this amazing girlfriend. It’s a win-win, my dude.”

He scoffs, rummaging through the pile of clothes at the bottom of his wardrobe again, pulling out a light blue hoodie with great difficulty. “Okay, first of all, you got lucky with Triss. There are a ton of people who end up hating their soulmate.” She shrugs, snorting as he struggles to pull the hoodie over his head. “Secondly,” he continues, when he has finally managed to put it on, “why would I want to know about the other life? Huh?”

Yennefer scoffs, as he sits on his desk chair, pulling on his Vans. “Because it’s cool as fuck. Did you know I was a witch in the other life? So was Triss, by the way.” She sighs, looking at her phone. “Though, I do miss being able to portal everywhere, that was really tight.”

He pulls his leg up, tying his shoelaces. “See? I don’t want to miss something I’ll never be able to get back. Also, your other life was cool, sure, but what if mine sucks, huh? What then? What if I died, like, the most stupid death humanly possible? And that’s another thing,” he continues to rant, as he ties the laces of his other shoe, “why would I want to remember how I died? That sounds like shit. Like, you remember how you died in the other life, that’s not a fun memory, right?”

Yennefer shrugs. “I mean, I got stabbed and fell off a tower in the middle of a battle, that’s all I remember. Didn’t hurt that much, really. And I’m sure you were an alright person in the other life. Probably royalty, since you’re so unbelievably stuck-up.”

She laughs as he flips her off. “Piss off, I’m serious. I don’t want to know about the other life. People keep saying you’ll really find your true self when you first touch your soulmate and remember, and they’re all like ‘ooh, you don’t know real happiness until you experience the glory of meeting your soulmate’ but that just all sounds like such bullshit. What’s wrong with this life? Why does everyone say it’s not enough? It’s enough for me so far.”

He sighs, gritting his teeth as he stops his rant, cheeks hot with annoyance. Yennefer simply stares at him from where she’s still lying on his bed, one eyebrow pulled up. It’s quiet for a few moments, until she speaks: “Are you done? Cause it’s nine thirty and we should leave right about now if we want to be fashionably late and not just plain late.”

He sighs, rolling his eyes, grabbing his phone from his desk. “Yeah, let’s go.”

҉    ҉    ҉

“Oh my god, Julian, you made it!” Triss’ voice is loud and clear above the noise of the people at the bar, as she nearly skips her way over to him and Yennefer, pulling him into a tight hug. He’s barely able to return it before she holds him at an arm’s length, beaming at him. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

“Hello, I’m here too,” Yennefer says next to him, and Triss laughs as she pulls her girlfriend into a short kiss.

“Oh, please, Yen, you’re so needy.” The two of them smile at each other and Jaskier clears his throat, kind of uncomfortable. He turns to the bar right next to them, ordering a tequila, only half paying attention to Triss and Yennefer’s conversation.

“So,” Yennefer asks, “who’s here?”

Triss looks around, pointing to different people as she names them. “Mostly friends from uni,” she waves at a group of people in one of the corners, “not a lot of people. Only Sabrina, Fringilla, and Anica. Istredd is still on his way, though.”

She turns her head left and right, stretching her neck a bit to see over the crowd of regular pub-goers. “I invited Geralt as well, but I haven’t seen him yet.” She shrugs. “He might not even show up, though, he said he’s not a big fan of parties.”

Jaskier takes the tequila from the barman, paying before he turns, sipping his drink as he leans his back against the bar. He sees Yennefer shoot him an uncomfortable look, something he can’t quite place, before she turns back to Triss. “Uh… who’s this Geralt-guy?” She glances back at him again for a second. “Haven’t heard of him.”

Triss blinks, visibly confused for a second, before some sort of realization dawns in her eyes. “Uh… oh, yeah! I uh… met him yesterday in the uni cafeteria. He was sitting all by himself and he looked kinda lonely so I joined him.”

Jaskier looks up, snorting a bit. “You sat with a total stranger and then invited him to your birthday party because he looked lonely?”

Triss blinks again, bright smile faltering a bit. “Uh… yeah, I guess I did. Anyways, he’s a really nice guy, I think you should really meet him, Julian. You know, give him a chance?”

He frowns. “What do you mean ‘give him a chance’?”

Yennefer clears her throat, she and her girlfriend sharing another strange look Jaskier doesn’t really understand. “At being a friend. You seriously need to make some friends, remember? Also, he doesn’t know anyone else at the party, either, so you two can be socially awkward together.”

Jaskier frowns again. “How do you know he’s socially awkward? I thought you never met him.”

She shrugs. “Well, he must be if he was sitting on his own.” Jaskier nods, not entirely convinced there isn’t something else going on as well, but he decides against asking about it. Maybe later, he thinks, as he sips his drink, looking at his phone a bit.

It’s rowdy and hot in the pub, and he can already feel a panic attack starting to build, as his eyes dart around, lungs constricting in his chest a bit. Yennefer and Triss have made their way over to their friends, leaving him on his own at the bar. He downs his tequila, placing the glass on the countertop behind him.

He’s contemplating making a bee-line to the side door and slipping away into the night – maybe getting a taxi – when someone stands next to him, ordering a beer from the barman. Jaskier looks to his right, eyes first meeting a black leather jacket, seeing long, white hair as he looks up a bit. He directs his gaze to his phone as quickly as possible, hoping the guy next to him won’t notice how much he seems to be blushing because fuck, this guy is hot.

He chances another look up, startling when he meets amber eyes. He swallows thickly, as the guy looks away again, taking the beer from the barman and tipping generously – Jaskier notices. He expects the guy to walk away, and part of him is already dreading never seeing those amber eyes again.

The guy doesn’t, though. He turns around, leaning against the bar, next to Jaskier, sipping his beer as he looks over the crowded room. Jaskier looks at his feet, fumbling with his phone a bit, unsure of what to say or to do.

He sighs in relief as he hears Triss’ voice, clear above the murmur of the crowd. “Oh my god, hi, Geralt!” She drags Yennefer behind her as they make their way over to Jaskier and the mysterious guy – apparently Geralt. She smiles brightly as she looks between the two of them. “So, I see you’ve already met Julian! This is my girlfriend Yennefer, by the way.” Yennefer gives a small smile and a weak wave from behind her soulmate. “Julian is her flat mate! You two really should get to know each other, I think you’d be great friends!”

Jaskier frowns at her, and he can see Geralt cocking his head in the corner of his eye. Triss smiles brightly, though, and looks behind her at Yennefer, who gives her girlfriend a reassuring nod. Reassuring her of what – Jaskier is not sure yet, but he narrows his eyes at his friend nonetheless.

“Oh! Look!” Triss says. “Istredd is here! And he brought some friends! Come on, Yen, we should go greet them.” She turns back to Jaskier and Geralt, giving them a final wave before disappearing in the crowd, leaving him alone with the guy. Great.

She was right though – Istredd did bring a ton of friends, and the bar feels a lot stuffier and rowdier than it did a few minutes ago. He considers leaving again, but doesn’t want to be impolite towards Geralt, so he stands there, leaning against the bar, heart racing, lungs constricting and oh fuck, he’s starting to have a panic attack.

His hands tremble as he fidgets with the hem of his pale blue hoodie, and he wishes he hadn’t worn it, even though it’s his favourite sweater. It’s too warm in the room, and he can feel sweat starting to form on his brow. He tries to keep his breathing even, but that only results in spots dancing across his vision from lack of oxygen, and his chest hiccupping with every other breath.

After a minute or so of silent suffering, he’s had enough. He throws a tight smile at Geralt, who looks at him weirdly, and mutters a “nice meeting you” before pushing through the crowd towards the side door, his shoulders bumping into several people on the way.

Once outside, he takes in deep, gulping breaths of night air, leaning forward, resting his hands on his knees. It’s blissfully quiet in the side alley, and he closes his eyes, waiting for the rush of blood in his ears to subside.

The door opens behind him, flooding him with light and noise before it’s closed again. He doesn’t look up, waiting for Yennefer to start her rant that he needs to practice conscious breathing when he feels a panic attack coming up, or Triss to ask him if he’s alright and if there’s anything she can do for him.

Instead, he hears a deep voice behind him. “Are you okay?” He stretches out again, looking behind him to see Geralt, amber eyes surprisingly concerned.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just…” he shrugs, looking at his feet “had a bit of a panic attack.”

Geralt takes a tentative step towards him. “You wanna talk about it?”

Jaskier smiles, shaking his head slightly. He hadn’t taken Geralt for a talkative person, so the fact that the guy offered to talk about it means a lot to him, surprisingly. “No, it’s fine.” He shrugs again, hands in the pocket of his hoodie. “Just don’t like crowds.”

Geralt smiles a bit, and oh god, oh shit, oh fuck, he looks so hot when he smiles. “Yeah, same here. Not a big fan of them.” Jaskier looks around, the street in front of the bar deserted. He’s not sure what’s down the alley, but he might find a taxi there.

He looks back at Geralt, who’s shifting from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. “It was nice meeting you, Geralt.” He starts walking down the alley, hands still in the pocket of his hoodie. He hears footsteps behind him and half turns around, frowning as he sees the guy catching up with him.

“Where are you going?” Geralt is walking next to him now, and Jaskier takes half a step to the side in the small alley, making sure their shoulders don’t brush.

He cocks his head. “Why do you want to know?”

And he might definitely be mistaken but he could swear he sees Geralt blush in the dim light of the streetlamps behind them. “Just doesn’t seem very safe, walking into an alley on your own in the middle of the night.”

Jaskier smiles. “And it’s safer to walk into an alley in the middle of the night with a stranger?”

He can see Geralt chewing on his lip, frowning deeply. “I suppose not.” He stops walking, and Jaskier does, too, after a couple of steps, turning back to Geralt. “If you want me to leave, Julian, that’s okay, I’ll leave.”

Jaskier laughs a bit, shaking his head. “Nah, don’t worry.” He keeps walking, signaling with his head for Geralt to follow him again. “Come on, let’s keep moving, it’s too cold to stand still.”

Geralt falls in step next to him and Jaskier can’t help but smile. He looks to his side. “My name’s not Julian, by the way.” Geralt frowns at him, confused, and Jaskier shrugs. “It is, officially, but my parents changed their minds a few weeks after I was born, and named me Jaskier, but didn’t change the legal documents. Yennefer just calls me Julian to spite me, and Triss does it cause she thinks it’s more polite, and I don’t have the heart to tell her no.”

Geralt laughs, shaking his head slightly. “I only met her yesterday, but that sounds exactly like her.”

Jaskier cocks his head. “I am wondering, though, Geralt, why did you come to the party? Like you said, you only met Triss yesterday.”

Geralt shrugs, hands buried in the pockets of his leather jacket. “She was very insistent. And, just like you, I didn’t have the heart to tell her no.”

Jaskier smiles, nodding a bit. “Fair enough.”

He side-steps around a garbage bag, before they reach the street behind the pub. It’s deserted. Well, fuck. So long, taxi. He looks around, the street stretching into the darkness on both sides. There’s a fenced off field in front of him, and he can see street lamps and cars passing by on a street on the other side of the field. He begins walking forward.

“Where are you going?” He hears Geralt call behind him.

He half turns around, pointing to the field with his thumb as he walks sideways. “Gonna hop the fence, go to that street over there and try and find a tax-“

His sentence is cut off abruptly as he trips over a small rock in the middle of the road, painfully hitting his head on the curb as he falls on his side. “Shit!”

He clutches his head as he sits up, but luckily there’s no blood on his hand, as he pulls it back. It is going to be a nasty bump, tomorrow, though. “Jaskier! You okay?” He looks up as Geralt half-jogs towards him across the street, looking both ways even though the neighborhood seems deserted.

He’s almost reached Jaskier, when he trips over his own feet, landing on his knees next to Jaskier. “Shit!”

Jaskier can’t help but laugh, clutching his stomach as he wheezes. God, just a pair of fucking idiots, lying in the middle of the street. He laughs harder when Geralt frowns at him, though the guy can’t help but laugh as well, as tears start to form in Jaskier’s eyes.

He gasps for air between fits of giggles, and leans back, lying on the asphalt, still clutching his stomach as he hiccups. He feels Geralt joining him, lying next to him in the middle of the street. “You okay, Jask?”

He finally quiets down and nods. He turns to Geralt. “You called me Jask.”

The guy shrugs, seemingly blushing again, though Jaskier tells himself it’s just a trick the streetlamps are playing on his eyes. “You don’t like it?”

Jaskier smiles, looking up at the sky. “No, no, I do like it. Just… no one’s ever called me that.”

Geralt shrugs again. They lie there in silence for a few moments, staring up at the night sky, the sound of cars in the distance.

“So, Geralt, what do you study?” He looks to his side again, admiring Geralt’s profile.

“Veterinary.”

Jaskier pushes himself up on one elbow, looking down on Geralt, who smiles softly. “Really? Didn’t take you for an animal lover, honestly.”

Geralt shrugs. “Most people don’t. I just have a soft spot for horses, I guess.”

Jaskier can’t help but smile at that. “Oh? Why horses, specifically?”

Amber eyes grow distant, as if Geralt’s suddenly transported into his own memories. “My dad’s got a horse farm, in the countryside. Taught me how to ride and take care of them at a young age.” He blinks, and suddenly he seems to be back in reality, as he looks at Jaskier. “What about you, though? What do you study?”

Jaskier leans back again, unable to look into Geralt’s eyes too long, for some reason. “English Lit.”

He hears Geralt chuckle next to him. “I wish I could say I didn’t take you for a book lover, but I’d be lying.”

Jaskier laughs a bit. “Alright, fair enough.”

He hears the quiet sound of a cap being unscrewed and looks to the side, seeing Geralt take a swig from a metal flask. “Wow, dude, you’ve come prepared.”

Geralt smiles, handing the flask to Jaskier. “What can I say? Pubs are expensive.” Jaskier laughs, feeling a slight burn in his throat as he takes a sip of whiskey – apparently Geralt’s a whiskey kind of guy. Horses and whiskey.

He laughs as he imagines Geralt, with a frown on his face, downing a bottle of Jack Daniels as he rides on a horse, wearing a cowboy outfit. He sits up as he chokes on the whiskey, coughing violently into his elbow. Geralt sits up next to him as well. “You okay?”

Jaskier gasps for air, coughing the last bit of whiskey from his airway, tears in the corners of his eyes. “Yeah, fine, just thought of something funny.” Geralt shoots him a questioning look and Jaskier shakes his head. “It’s not important.”

Geralt lays back down, taking the flask as Jaskier hands it to him, putting it back in the pocket of his leather jacket, folding his arms behind his head. “Well, watch out the next time you think about something unimportant, then. Don’t want you to laugh until you die.”

Jaskier smiles, laying back down on the pavement. “Honestly, can you think of any better way to choke?”

Geralt smiles as well. “Hmm.”

It’s quiet between them for a couple more moments, as they look at the night sky. The light pollution of the city makes it hard for him to see the stars, but he can make out some blinking lights in the dark abyss above. He points up. “Look, a plane.”

Geralt nods next to him, then points to the right of where Jaskier’s pointing. “Another one.”

Jaskier nods as well. “Very busy night for the plane business.”

And Geralt’s chuckle might be the most beautiful thing he’s heard in his whole life.

“So,” Geralt starts, and Jaskier looks at his profile again, noticing how soft the white hair looks and how much he wants to touch it, “do you do this often?” Geralt turns his head towards Jaskier, and oh god, those lips look so kissable.

He blinks. “Do what?”

Geralt smiles. “Lying in the middle of the road at one in the morning with strangers?”

Jaskier shakes his head. “No, I never do that. See, I know your name and you’ve watched me fall on my face, so we’re not really strangers anymore, are we?”

Geralt looks at the night sky again. “No, I suppose not.” He lets out a long deep breath, and Jaskier can see small clouds above his face in the cold air. “So,” he looks back at Jaskier, “what do you do in your spare time?”

Jaskier scoffs. “You mean besides watching Netflix and pretending to study?” Geralt laughs, and Jaskier can’t help but vow to make this guy laugh as many times as he possibly can, because he can’t imagine ever getting tired of the sound. He shrugs. “I don’t know, really. Lie in the middle of the road at one in the morning, and look up for heaven, I guess.”

Geralt frowns a bit. “What do you mean with looking up for heaven?”

Jaskier shrugs. “Well, people always say that when you find your soulmate you will find glory or some shit, but… I don’t know. It’s always sounded like an empty promise to me. Something that only happens if you find your soulmate, and… what are we supposed to do in the meantime? Wait?” He shakes his head, looking at the sky, watching as another plane passes overhead. “No, I don’t really like that. Life has meaning even if you don’t have a soulmate or if you haven’t found them yet. I can’t do anything with empty words for glory, so I’ll just be here, looking up for heaven, trying to find something else to strive towards.”

It’s quiet for another moment, and eventually he turns his head, looking at Geralt, amber eyes searching his face. Finally, he speaks: “You said ‘even if you don’t have a soulmate’. Everyone has one, though.”

Jaskier scoffs. “I don’t believe that. I mean, my parents were supposedly soulmates. They did the whole thing: touching each other for the first time, seeing the other life, falling in love, marrying, getting a kid. But then they ended up hating each other. So were they really soulmates, then? I don’t believe so.”

Geralt nods, turning his head towards the night sky. “I understand. I don’t know if my parents were soulmates, I never met them.”

Jaskier frowns. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Geralt smiles and shrugs. “It’s okay. I’ve got my adoptive father. He never found his soulmate, though, but he seems at peace with it. I think you’d like him.”

Jaskier smiles as well. “I mean, he owns a horse farm, so I’m already sold.”

Geralt laughs again, and maybe Jaskier feels something flutter in the pit of his stomach, but he’s probably just hungry or something. He sees another plane pass by. “Kind of weird, isn’t it? That there’s a scientific explanation for everything in this world, except for the other life and the whole soulmate ordeal.”

Geralt nods. “Guess we really know nothing at all, when push comes to shove. We can only make the best of what we have, as long as we’re here, and maybe there’s something afterwards, who knows? Maybe another life, where soulmates will remember this one when they touch for the first time.”

Jaskier smirks, half turning his head to Geralt. “Now who’s looking up for heaven?”

Geralt scoffs, half turning towards Jaskier as well. “Not me. I’ll take my chances on the curb here with you, thank you very much.”

Jaskier notices little, dark brown flecks in Geralt’s amber eyes, and has to look away, a blush gracing his cheeks. In the distance a church bell chimes three times. Jaskier looks at his phone, suspicions confirmed: it’s three in the morning already. “Huh, it’s getting late.” He sighs, putting his phone back in the pocket of his hoodie. “I have class in the morning. I should probably get going.”

He makes no move to get up, though, and simply watches as another plane passes overhead. He hears that deep voice again, and feels a shiver run down his spine that has nothing to do with the cold. “What is it, Jask?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t wanna go home yet, I guess.” He looks at Geralt. “I don’t know why, but it’s really easy to talk with you.”

Geralt smiles. “Same here.”

Jaskier looks up at the sky once more. “I just wanna stay here, in the middle of the road, with you, looking up for heaven together.”

Geralt chuckles, pushing himself to his feet, as Jaskier sits upright. Geralt extends his hand, smiling a bit. “Stop looking up for heaven, waiting to be buried.” Jaskier laughs, reaching out his hand to take Geralt’s.

Their skin touches, for the first time that evening, and his eyes grow wide as memories that aren’t quite his own flood him.

“Love the way you just sit in the corner and brood.” “I’m here to drink alone.”

“Respect doesn’t make history.”

“I need no one, and the last thing I want is someone needing me.” “And yet, here we are.”

“We could head to the coast, get away for a while.”

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands.”

He lets go of Geralt’s hand, falling back on the pavement as he is pulled back to here and now. He looks up, wide-eyed, shocked, and he can tell Geralt just experienced the same thing. Fuck.

The other life. A Witcher, a Bard. Soulmates.

He breathes out, shuddering breath leaving his lungs in fragments, forming small clouds in the cold night air. “Oh.”

Geralt simply stares at him, then at his hand, as if he can’t believe what just happened. Eventually, he nods, lowering himself back onto the pavement, next to Jaskier. “Oh,” he says as well.

Jaskier looks at his own hand, half expecting a mark, something to indicate something’s – everything’s changed, but his skin is the same as always. Really, he’s the same as always, it’s just the memories that are new.

He looks at Geralt, who’s still staring ahead, amber eyes wide. “What happened in the other life, Geralt? How did you-“ his voice catches in his throat as he imagines Geralt dying.

The guy – the Witcher looks at him, eyes still absent. He blinks, then clears his throat. “I uh… After… our fight, on the mountain, I went looking for Ciri, for my…” a sharp intake of breath “Child Surprise. Never found her. Got attacked by ghouls, died a day or so later. You?”

A memory presents itself to Jaskier, and he shudders, burying his hands in the sleeves of his hoodie. “Got robbed a few weeks after our fight. Got stabbed, bled out.”

Geralt frowns at him. “I know we only just met, really, and that we’re not who we were in the other life but… I do want to apologize for what I said on the mountain. I never meant any of it, and travelling with you for…” he frowns, swallowing thickly “twenty-two years, was an honour and a privilege. You deserved better.”

Jaskier smiles. “I did, and thank you, Geralt. It does mean a lot to me, even if it wasn’t really… me, but… other life me? I don’t know, this is so weird.”

Geralt laughs. “It is. I’m glad we’re here, now, though.”

Jaskier leans his shoulder against Geralt’s, something that feels so natural he doesn’t need to think twice about it. “So am I. And I’m glad we’re soulmates.” He frowns. “I’m glad we got a second chance, Geralt.”

Geralt smiles back, softly, fondness in his eyes. “So am I. I really messed up the first time. I want to do better in this life, if you’ll have me.”

Jaskier leans forward, resting his forehead against Geralt’s, the clouds of their breaths intertwining in the cold night air. “I’ll have you, Geralt of Rivia, if you’ll have me.”

Geralt sighs, softly. “Yes, of course I’ll have you, Jask. No question about it.”

Their eyes meet, and Jaskier can barely suppress a shiver that runs down his spine. He’s drowning in the molten gold of Geralt’s eyes, and can’t help but smile. “May I kiss you?”

Geralt leans forward, their noses brushing, hot breath fanning over Jaskier’s skin. “I fear I might die all over again if you don’t.”

Jaskier laughs. “God, Geralt, you’re so dramatic.” He leans forward further, softly pressing his lips against Geralt’s, and he feels a hand on the back of his neck pulling him closer, the kiss deepening.

After a few moments he pulls back, drawing in shaky breaths of cold night air as their foreheads rest against each other. He can’t help but smile as he takes in every little detail of Geralt’s face. The little freckle under his right eye, the small scar on his left eyebrow, the brown freckles in his amber eyes. He hopes he gets the chance to spend the rest of his life memorizing every single detail, every single imperfection that makes Geralt perfect.

Geralt smiles at him, frowning a bit as he sees Jaskier’s searching eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Jaskier smiles, before pressing a chaste kiss to Geralt’s lips and he could never, ever tire of this. Not in this life, not in the next. “No reason, I’m just… looking up for heaven.”

[sixtyfourk]

001 you know me I gotta ask for Clive/Flora :3

I was hoping you would... :D Thank you for indulging me, and I’m sorry for this essay ^^

when I started shipping it if I did:

Long story… I was playing through all of the PL games this spring for the first time in years, and found myself really liking Flora, far more than I’d ever liked her when playing the games as a kid. Then, when I got to UF, I found myself getting really attached to Clive as well. Not only did I love both characters, but I really liked their interactions; I’d been getting upset about how much Flora was left behind, and lo and behold, “Future Luke” tells Luke that Flora should be included on the adventure, and that she’s allowed to be excited, etc. 

Clive kept on sticking up for Flora, and they seemed to get along really well (not to mention all of the cute little moments they had together, like on the stairs to the Thames Arms), and I was getting really invested in their relationship. Then Clive went completely off the rails, and even though I knew this was coming, I honestly felt as upset and confused as Flora did. I wanted to hear his apology, and I wanted to see more out of a relationship that I felt had so much promise. 

my thoughts:

I absolutely love Clora; I haven’t been this excited about a ship in a long time. I adore both characters, and the similarities in their backgrounds are just perfect for writing about; they have so much to bond over. They have a really cute and wholesome dynamic in UF, before they really knew each other, and I love the idea of that continuing and developing into something deeper as they slowly get to know the real versions of each other. 

At first, Flora’s angry and confused, and Clive is lost in self-hate and regret; he’s just messed up so much already, and there’s no way that he can ever apologize correctly. But Flora just refuses to give up on getting the closure she needs, and just keeps on coming back until she gets it. They’ve got the perfect balance of in-game hints where the pairing isn’t pulled out of nowhere, and also open-endedness where there’s lots to explore as a writer. 

I think they’d definitely need a lot of time before ever starting a romantic relationship. While there were little hints at the ship in the game (I think), romance was the farthest thing from Clive’s mind at the time (I don’t think he’d ever been interested in anything of the kind before), and it was Flora’s first proper adventure. Their falling-out in the game really solidifies the fact that they need a lot of time to process things and get to know each other all over again. I’d want them to become good solid friends first before going anywhere near romance. After that, though... ugh, the mutual pining would be so good, ahhh...!

What makes me happy about them:

So much. I really love how on the surface, Flora is the “cute” one and Clive is the “prickly” one, but really, they aren’t that different. Flora has a lot of issues and a lot of pain in her past like Clive, and Clive also gets deeply attached to other people (especially his family) like Flora does. I think that they have so much potential to help each other open up and deal with the difficulties from their pasts, and support each other when the other is going through a rough time. And honestly, they’re just really adorable together. They’ve got such a nice mix of sweetness and angst, and I just love thinking and writing about them.

(Also they’re holding hands in one of the end credits scenes...! I so rarely ship anything with any canon evidence, so that, and all of Clive’s little “Don’t worry, Flora” comments in the game just make me really happy).

What makes me sad about them:

Hhh…. I just think that Clive messed things up SO bad. He messed up from the beginning. It’s not even just the kidnapping part; that could probably be (generously) explained by Clive suddenly deciding that he didn’t want Flora to get stomped by the Mobile Fortress (although he should have told her/just not used the Mobile Fortress, but okay). It’s that he was pretending to be “Future Luke” all along, and, due to Flora’s past of having people she cares about replaced by lookalikes (Dahlia replacing her mom, herself being replaced by Don Paolo (and Luke gleefully showing her the Flora mask on the train ride home!), and less traumatically, Don Paolo replacing the professor), I think that “Big Luke” suddenly turning into “Clive” would be really upsetting for her. 

Despite all of that, though, all Flora asked for was an apology--and then the two of them never get to talk again. I don’t know… I’m just sad that they seemed to get along so well before, and if Clive had been able to say sorry right then, maybe they could have parted on better terms than they did, just like Clive and the professor got to. Instead, we don’t get any apology or closure. Flora deserved an apology.

things done in fanfic that annoys me:

Ugh, SO many things. There’s about 100 stories with both characters tagged on ff.net, and I can only really recommend about ten of them. At best, it’s a generic “bad boy/good girl” dynamic, or Clive is suddenly super nice and Flora is incredibly ditzy, and at worst, Clive’s abusive. (please don’t read the earliest ff.net stories, no matter how desperate you get.) 

Admittedly, people are very critical of Clora at the best of times, so I feel like there’s a higher standard for it than there are for other pairings. I just feel like Flora often gets written as the “everygirl,” sort of as a reader-insert that gets to date Clive. Or, Clive is a total woobie who gets immediately forgiven by Flora with no resistance at all. Honestly though, as long as it’s obvious that someone is trying their best to keep them in-character and on equal footing, I would be happy to read anyone’s take on them. They are a difficult pair to write, I think, so I don’t expect anyone to get it perfect (since there really is no perfect way to write them).

things I look for in fanfic:

Ideally? Just like 10 Years. The slow burn, the hard work to earn forgiveness, the friendship, the attention to their similarities, the acknowledgement of both of their traumas… boy, I will never stop recommending that story. I’m so glad it exists; it’s given me so many ideas and it addresses all of the things that make me feel bad about the pairing. 

Outside of that fic… I just want acknowledgement of what Clive did wrong, him working to fix it, and them starting to understand each other and grow fond of each other. (Also… lots of angst and hurt/comfort, haha, but that’s me with every type of fanfic). Conversely, I’d like to just see them doing cute things together or going on an adventure without talking about the past constantly as well; once the apology is over, they don’t have to constantly return back to the past. I feel like Clora is a super good candidate for slow burn as well; I loved it in 10 Years and I’d love to see another take on it.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: 

Honestly no one… when I really like a ship, I can’t multiship without getting sad, haha… :’) 

My happily ever after for them:

I’ve got several different AUs for them, but for one of them, I’d like to see them get married and move to St. Mystere. They can work together and take over Bruno’s job of repairing the robot residents and take care of the village. They’d visit and be visited by the professor and the rest of the family frequently, but I think that they’d both be happier away from London. I think Clive interacting with the Reinholds would be really funny too, haha… I do have a longer story I still want to write too, though, so my ideas for a happy ending for them may change a lot as I write.

who is the big spoon/little spoon:

It’s a 60-40 split, with Flora being the little spoon slightly more.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity:

I think they try to learn how to be good cooks together. Flora was never good, obviously, but I think that Clive also only knows how to cook the basics (lazy rich kid). Once Clive starts living with the professor, though, he realizes that it’s pretty much going to be up to him to feed this family, because the professor forgets to cook, Flora’s bad at it, and Alfendi’s a baby. He starts to work at getting better, and Flora decides to practice more too, and they wind up competing with each other. They also use each other as test subjects for the food they want to give to the professor (it’s okay if they give each other food poisoning, but the professor? Perish the thought!) By the time Alfendi’s a little kid, they’re both half-decent, but still make fun of each other’s cooking, and Alfendi will pick a side with whoever he’s feeling more charitable towards at the time. 

They also have unscheduled midnight tea time at least once a week. Clive doesn’t sleep a lot, and Flora wakes up during the night quite often, so she often comes downstairs to find him pacing around, and makes a pot of tea. Sometimes she’ll go up again after having a cup, and sometimes they fall asleep on the couch together.

[pumpkinpaix]

hi again! previous anon here, just remembered a question. there's something that's been nagging at me about the show's lan parents storyline — LXC tells WWX that story about his parents and it seems like it's meant as a parallel for LWJ and WWX. But the Lan parents thing sounded like a super toxic/unhealthy relationship? like their mom was literally being kept against her will... maybe i'm just missing the nuance for the parallel? would love to hear your thoughts on this!

(ask con’t, sorry it’s long) i’ve just gotten out of a bad relationship not too long ago and gets really leery of cdramas portraying control as love (ie one love interest preventing the other from leaving, or clear power imbalances as with period dramas). i really don’t think that’s what’s happening here but got kind of uncomfortable too at the “i want to bring someone back to gusu/hide them away” line LWJ had earlier. might you have an alternate interpretation? i’m almost sure i’m misreading!

So a couple things first: thank you so much for asking me this question because my thoughts about the untamed/mdzs have been so much and turbulent that having a specific thing to focus on is really helpful, AND it’s also really flattering that you think I??? would have worthwhile thoughts???? about this really complicated thing.

Second: I want to make sure to say that no matter how strongly I feel about my interpretation, no matter how long I spend composing this response, you are not obligated to change how you feel. If that line still bothers you, it still bothers you. Our experiences are different! And it’s okay! That being said, haha, buckle up I guess, because WOW do I have a lot of things to say.

Spoilers up through episode 43, obviously, with allusions to the novel. I will try to keep any details about things that happen post-43 vague.

Let’s begin with this moment:

“Was he right to do this?” || “I don’t know.”

[id: image 1 is a screenshot of lan xichen asking “was he right to do this” and image 2 is a screenshot of wei wuxian responding “i don’t know” from episode 43 of the untamed /end id]

I think we need to think about how to answer this question before we can answer your question: how can we interpret the relationship between lan wangji and lan xichen’s parents? Was it moral? Was it okay? Was it right? This is clearly a question that lan xichen has been wrestling with his whole life. And from this scene, I think that he’s made his peace with the fact that it’s always going to be a question for him, not because the inherent morality is unclear, but because of the emotional subjectivity he’s always going to hold for it. He doesn’t expect wei wuxian to have an answer because he doesn’t have an answer himself.

Something that I remember from the novel that doesn’t make it into this scene, though, is what wei wuxian says after lan xichen asks, “can you understand why my father acted this way?” and he nods, is the explanation he gives: he hated the person who had murdered his mentor, but he also loved her so much he couldn’t bear to see her destroyed. Unable to live with himself, he married her, swore to protect her, and then imprisoned her for the rest of her life. Tormented by his contradictions, he then locked himself away as well. lan xichen agrees.

lan wangji and lan xichen were raised without their parents—largely, they were raised by their upright uncle, who, due to his brother’s behavior, took up the responsibilities of sect leader and parent at the same time. (It’s really no wonder that lan qiren has such a vicious dislike for wei wuxian: he loves lan wangji so much, and he’s so afraid to watch the child he raised repeat history. Beyond that, I think it’s pretty safe to say that lan qiren probably harbors not insignificant resentment towards his brother for the harm he did to both his children and to lan qiren himself.) Lan qiren is not married and as far as we know, never has any romantic entanglements after he begins raising the lan brothers. So where does that leave lan wangji and lan xichen in terms of models for romance? All they have is the fraught relationship between their parents. 

lan wangji is not good with words. He expresses himself primarily through action, which we see time and time again. When lan wangji says to lan xichen, “there’s someone I want to take back to the cloud recesses. take them back and hide them away,” I think he’s trying to explain (with words) his feelings for wei wuxian in the only way he knows how: by making a reference to the only romantic relationship to which he and lan xichen were firsthand witnesses. lan xichen canonically understands wangji better than pretty much everyone: he sees straight through him at Biling lake when he invites wei wuxian and jiang cheng along to hunt the water spirits because he knows lan wangji wants wei wuxian to come. He asks if he wants loquats even when wangji refuses them. So when lan wangji says that, lan xichen first repeats the statement carefully to make sure he understands what’s at stake, and then he says something very crucial: “you only fear that he isn’t willing”.

I think this says a lot— specifically, that both lan xichen and lan wangji understand firsthand the pain their father caused and what exactly was wrong about it. I think what lan wangji is saying between the lines is, “I’m in love with someone. I want to take them home with me. I want to hide them away from the world to protect them. I fear this makes me like our father, whose love led him to do such terrible things to our mother, and by extension, to us and our uncle. I can’t repeat his mistakes.” And lan xichen, understanding all of that, gets to the heart of lan wangji’s inner conflict: wei wuxian is not willing, and lan wangji refuses to follow in his father’s footsteps, no matter how tormented he feels about the person he loves, no matter how much he wants to.

Every time lan wangji tries and fails to get wei wuxian to return with him to gusu, it’s with the intention of trying to help him, trying to protect him from the other sects, trying to pull him back before he does something unforgivable, much like his father’s motivations for bringing his mother back to gusu (“he swore that this was his beloved wife and that anyone who wished to hurt her [for her crimes] would have to go through him”), but unlike his father, lan wangji never forces wei wuxian to do anything. He never keeps him locked up, never forcibly kidnaps him. Not only that, but lan wangji is also willing to fight wei wuxian when he believes that wei wuxian is doing something inadmissible: heis the only one to stand against his initial forays into demonic cultivation, and physically confronts him on the roof at the nightless city. Would he have actually followed through on killing him, had things gone differently? Maybe, maybe not, but at the very least, it shows that he, unlike his father, was willing to try to destroy the person he loved when he crossed the line.

Anon, you’re right that there’s a parallel between the lan parents and wangxian, but I think the key is how they parallel each other. Lan wangji doesn’t repeat his father’s mistakes. When he finally does bring wei wuxian back to gusu and hide him away to protect him, wei wuxian is not there against his will, and, I think also importantly, lan wangji is with him. It’s no accident that lan wangji’s residence is the jingshi, the place his mother was imprisoned for his whole life, and it’s no accident that he brings wei wuxian there. But lan wangji doesn’t lock him there and abandon him like his father did with his mother: he’s there with him the whole time. Lan wangji, when all is said and done, is finally ready to stand by wei wuxian in spite of everything he did, unlike his father, who couldn’t do so with his wife: couldn’t destroy her, couldn’t stand with her. lan wangji makes his choice. “I regretted that I couldn’t stand with you at the nightless city.” The parallel is one that emphasizes contrast in spite of similarity.

All this ties vaguely into bigger themes present within the story, particularly the tensions between freedom/restriction and parents/children. These are like, two whole other essays haha, so I won’t get too deep into the weeds (unless you or anyone else wants to ask me!!! bc, anon, believe me, I would BE WILLING!!!) but:

1. lan wangji and wei wuxian are fundamentally very similar people, even if their personalities are not. They have incredibly strong moral compasses and want nothing more than to be righteous and to live with clear consciences about their choices. The difference is in how they go about that. wei wuxian chafes under rules, breaks them when he finds them unjust or unimportant, and thinks that he doesn’t deserve to be punished. When lan wangji finds that his moral compass conflicts with the rules he chooses to live by, he prioritizes his own sense of justice, much like wei wuxian, but he also accepts the punishments that are given to him without complaint. wei wuxian cherishes freedom over all while lan wangji lives under strict regulation, but the point is that they both take it too far. wei wuxian is righteous to the point of arrogance, flaunts his peers’ judgments and warnings to his eventual downfall. lan wangji, after doing what he thinks is right, allows himself to be punished without protest so severely he’s bedridden and imprisoned for three years. I would say neither of these approaches is… ideal, and I think that’s part of why wangxian feels so profound. They temper each other’s worst weaknesses. (rereading this, i’m not sure i’m 100% behind everything I just said lol, but again, an essay for another time)

2. Like lan wangji is paralleled with his father, wei wuxian is paralleled with his mother, zangse-sanren: free-spirited, mischievous, and ultimately meeting a tragic end for the choices she made out of that desire for freedom. He too is able to eventually escape his mother’s fate, just as lan wangji escapes his father’s. The parallels between parent and child are strong for almost all the mains, though not all of them manage to free themselves and achieve some measure of happiness, and this in itself relates to the even bigger questions of what matters more: your heritage, or your actions? Your heritage, or your upbringing? What can you do to avoid making the same mistakes as your predecessors?

I’ve already talked about this wrt wei wuxian and lan wangji, but the same goes for characters like jiang cheng, jin zixuan, wen qing, wen ning, mianmian, jin guangyao, su she, nie huaisang, jin ling, lan sizhui, ouyang zizhen, xiao xingchen, song lan, xue yang etc. like the list is endless. Part of why mdzs/the untamed is so heartwrenching is watching history repeat itself while the protagonists, who are also acutely aware, are nearly powerless to stop it. The juniors end up being the breaking from all that: willing to defy their parents, make their own decisions about right and wrong, recognize that a person’s actions should speak louder than the rumors that run on their account.

tl;dr: the lan parents’ relationship is toxic and hurtful to everyone around them. wangxian absolutely parallels it, but in a way that highlights how they differ from their predecessors, tying into larger thematic issues of the story.

eek that was almost 2k words yikes!! I hope my enthusiastic rambling helped you see that “take them back, hide them away” line in a different light haha, but I want to say again: you’re not obligated to take my interpretation as fact, and you also don’t have to think everything about wangxian is perfect to still like it. We all consume and like imperfect stories! I totally get your feelings on weird power dynamics/inequalities in relationships because… it’s abusive? it’s terrible? It hurts to see?? esp given what you said about your own experience, like yeah, for sure!!! but for me? when lan wangji says, “I want to take someone back to the cloud recesses—take them back, hide them away”, it reads as a really powerful, self-aware expression of what it means for someone like him to fall in love.

EDIT 16 APR 2020: I find myself only agreeing with ~85% of this after many months of reflection. /o\ *hides face* leaving it as-is because it’s what I wrote at the time, but! you know. I have changed some of my views.

[thatmultifandomhoe]

Strawberry Cream and BBQ - 14

Pairing: Hybrid Hoseok and Human Reader

Overview: Your best friend knows she can count on you for anything, so when she asks you to watch her hybrid while she’s gone for a study abroad trip for four months, you can’t say no. But when these four months are over, things have changed in a way no one expected.

Word Count: 3,171

Genre: Hybrid AU, Fluff, Future smut, Angst, Best friends to Lovers

Warning: Here’ssssssssssssss Johnny!

Master List

Sneak Peak - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23 - Part 24 - Part 25 (Final) - Move in Day: A SC&BBQ Drabble

©thatmultifandomhoe Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

You raised an eyebrow as you looked up from your computer screen, watching as Johnny made himself comfortable in the spot next to you. Since there was an hour before your next class, you were taking advantage of the gap to work on another essay in one of the cafes on campus. Handouts and notes were spread out on the booth table to make it easier to find what you needed. To everyone else, it was a sign to not interrupt. To Johnny however, it meant nothing.

“Well hello to you too,” you sarcastically greeted back. Immediately you saved your work, knowing that Johnny was very much a talker.

Johnny just shrugged. “Sorry, you just look out of it.” Handing you a stack of papers so they wouldn’t get ruined, he leaned his left elbow on the table to face you. When he was comfortable, he reached over and gently turned your chin, his eyes scanning your face in concern.

There was no point in trying to resist, he was stronger and faster than you. If he noticed the dark circles that you attempted to cover up with concealer, you wouldn’t be surprised. He always noticed the smallest detail no matter what it was. At least Hoseok hadn’t, and that was only because he had already left for work by the time you woke up that morning.

It had been a few days since the two of you had gone out for Korean BBQ and everything had gone back to normal, at least, that’s what you thought. Hoseok was still showing you affection – longer hugs and more cuddling on the couch – but he was also spending extra hours at the Dance Studio to practice his routine for the show. Sometimes he didn’t get home until eight at night. On those nights when he walked through the door, you simply opened your arms and held him for as long as he wanted, which is what always led to cuddling on the couch. Not that you were complaining, but you wished it didn’t feel like a constant tug of war between your heart and brain.

Fingers snapped in front of your face, startling you back to reality. “Hey, are you okay?” Johnny softly asked. He really was getting worried about you. The two of you were friends, and considering what you did when he got his heat, he wanted to help you with anything that you needed. He was forever in your debt, no matter how many times you told him to not worry about it.

“Yeah,” you softly answered, forcing a gentle smile. Looking at Johnny, you noticed that he was bundled up for the weather, although his winter jacket was unzipped and his hat was on the table. His little ferret ears were barely peaking out from his light brown hair. “Just…just some guy issues. And school, and work. Basically, life is happening all at once.” A forced chuckle made its way past your lips as you leaned back against the seat and ran a hand through your hair.

“Guy issues?” Johnny repeated. “Well let’s start there. What’s going on?”

At first you shook your head, not wanting to feel like a burden by telling Johnny everything that’s happened. That’s what you decided in your mind, but the second you met his gaze, you found yourself spilling. “It’s Hoseok, he’s my best friend. Ever since he came to stay with me, it’s like I’m seeing him a new light. Like he’s not just my best friend, but as like…” you gestured with your hand, struggling to find the words.

“Like someone you can see yourself having romantic feelings for?” Johnny suggested.

“Yeah. Then one of our other friends said that we…we act like mates.” Your voice stopped working after saying that one word, forcing you to take a sip of the soda you bought. Before continuing on, you pulled you legs up on to the seat and rested your chin on your knees. It was a tight fit, but you didn’t care anymore. “I’ve been doing research, and hybrids know who their mates are the second they meet. That’s what all the books and my friends say. And Hoseok and I…we’ve been friends for three years. I’ve dated guys during that time and he’s done nothing to indicate that I am... his.”

When you were done speaking, you hugged your legs and looked up at Johnny, having to tilt your head to the side to do so. Now that you had let out everything that was bothering you, it felt like a weight had been lifted off of your body allowing you to breathe properly again. Maybe this was what you needed.

Johnny’s face remained neutral during your story, not once letting it show what he was thinking. He simply adjusted his position, letting his cheek rest in the palm of his hand, his lips pressed together in thought. “Not once has he showed signs of being territorial or protective?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Only once and that…” you felt your cheeks heat up as you quickly looked down and away from Johnny. It was a little embarrassing, but it shouldn’t matter. The two of you were grown adults, you should be able to talk about sex without feeling like you’d get in trouble. “That was because he could still smell your scent in my apartment. Hoseok…I’ve never seen him so hurt and upset before.”

He let out a low whistle, leaning back in the seat. “Yeah, that’ll do it.”

“Do what?” You asked, confused with where his thought process was going.

Johnny reached over to pat your back. “You are right on the fact that we know who our mates are,” he explained, a smile growing on his face. “But when the mate is human, like you, sometimes we hold ourselves back. While we only have one person that we love and spend the rest of our lives with, you still have options. Obviously after being marked meant that you wouldn’t see any one else romantically, but before that you still have the choice to leave. To fall in love with someone else.”

Your face contorted into a frown as Johnny explained. The words were making their way into your brain, but they hadn’t settled down in a logical explanation yet. He must have seen the look on your face because he continued.

“You said you had been dating guys during these last three years, and I’m assuming they were human, then that means Hoseok was holding back for you. He wanted you to have a choice even if it wasn’t him. But when he smelled my scent in your apartment, especially your bedroom,” Johnny raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips as he teased you. “Then it makes sense for his outburst. It’s one thing to date other human guys, but other hybrids? Since we mate for life, the idea of him losing you to some other hybrid would have sent him into full blown territorial mode. Does that make sense?”

It took several moments, then the pieces began to click together. “But he never even made an attempt to make it known that he saw me as more than a friend until recently.” Your mind was still trying to say that Hoseok didn’t see you like that, but your heart was starting to race and you had to wipe you palms against your jeans due to your nerves.

“Because he wanted you to be in charge,” Johnny countered. His face softened as he looked at you, seeing the hope fill your eyes. It was obvious how you felt about Hoseok, but he could also see the way you were holding yourself back. “We may not get to choose who our mates are, but you humans do. Hoseok wanted you to have the choice, and if he didn’t make a move until he caught wind of me, then he really wanted it to be as fair as possible for you.”

Licking your lips, the back of your eyes stung as you pressed your forehead against your knees. Johnny was never one to lie, so if every word he said was true, then you really did have a chance with Hoseok.

His arm settled around your back and you didn’t try to stop him as he pulled you in for a hug, comforting you as you squeezed your eyes closed. It was just too much. “What do I do?” You softly whispered, not wanting to look up just yet.

Johnny gently squeezed your shoulder. “Well you obviously don’t jump him when you get home. Giving him a heart attack isn’t a good idea.

You elbowed him in the side, smiling when you heard his laugh. “I’m serious Johnny.”

“So am I,” he teased. “Just ease into it. Maybe even be a little flirty and if he returns it, then go from there. Then maybe one day, tell him the truth. I promise you, Hoseok will be the happiest man in the word.”

With a nod, you lifted your head, wiping away the tears that had dripped down your cheeks. The butterflies were alive and flying in excitement in your stomach. From the way that Hoseok was being extra affectionate with you already, you knew the second that you initiated even more, he was going to be all over it.

Watching your facial reactions, Johnny simply squeezed your shoulder once more and snuck a quick glance at the time on the laptop. “Come on, we have classes to attend. Or you could just pack up and hurry your ass home to lover boy.”

You slapped his arm with a gasp, but the two of you erupted into giggles as you made quick work of packing away your notes and laptop. “Thank you, Johnny.”

He waved away your thanks though as he zipped his jacket up. “Don’t worry about it. I owe you my life after you helped me. Plus, we’re friends. And friends help when the other is having a mid-life crisis about her love life.”

After making sure you were okay, Johnny headed out so he’d make it to his own class, leaving you to your own thoughts as you walked across campus. Your steps were lighter and it seemed like you’d been zapped with energy sourced from the sun. As you paid attention to your class, you couldn’t help but be eager to get home to a certain someone.

***

By the time dinner rolled around, Hoseok wasn’t home.

He remembered to send you a text this time. He had gotten talking to one of the other instructors at the studio and apparently, the group that they were teaching was too large for only one instructor. It was one of the free classes and they hadn’t been expecting so many people to show up for it. Since Hobi knew the dance that was being taught, he was staying along with the other instructor to help out.

You understood, work was work after all, but your mood dampened when you realized that meant you were eating alone. The few weeks that Hoseok had been living you, the apartment was never purely quiet anymore. There was always something, whether it was Hoseok humming along to a song, or suddenly breaking out into a little dance as he waited for the microwave to finishing cooking whatever he tossed in there. Or those moments when he made these cute little noises and sound effects when he was reading on his phone or watching a video. It was never quiet anymore.

He radiated an energy unlike anyone you knew and being alone in the silent apartment, with only some background music, was strange. And now that you knew it was okay to have feelings for him, you were beginning to realize how much you liked him.

After digging around the fridge, you found leftover pizza from the other night, tossed a few slices on a plate and put it in the microwave. While it reheated, you brought out your laptop to work on that essay. Might as well get some work done than nothing.

When eight o’clock rolled around, the essay was finished and submitted. The TV was turned on to an old episode of Friends as you had been camping out on the couch with your textbook, forcing yourself to get through another mind-numbing chapter of Thoreau. It made you miss and want Emerson back. At some point you slipped out of the sweater you had on and into a tank top, letting your hair down for the night.

You sighed though as you forced yourself to stand. After sitting on the couch in the same position for the last couple hours, your legs were starting to grow sore. Time to move around. Your body automatically brought you into the small kitchen, opening up the cabinet to get a mug to make instant coffee. There had been a headache forming from staring at the small text and trying to comprehend the overall message, so you were hoping that a cup of hot coffee would take care of that.

As the hot water poured into your mug, you busied yourself by getting out a plate and the pizza again. It wasn’t much, but you figured that Hoseok would be hungry by the time he got back, so it made sense to get it ready for him. That way all he had to do was sit down and eat.

Hoseok was yawning as he pulled his keys out from his pocket, coming to a stop in front of the apartment door. He was dead tired. The session ran a lot longer than anyone was expecting, but it was worth it in the end. To see all those happy smiling faces on those kids faces, it reminded him of when he first started going to the Dance Studio all those years ago.

He was careful to make sure he shut the front door quietly, not wanting to disturb you were in-case you were in the middle of some paper like you always seemed to be. But when he looked up, he was surprised to see you standing in the kitchen. The familiar scent of coffee caught his attention, and when you didn’t turn to greet him, he figured that you were lost in thought. Another late night of studying apparently.

With a gentle smile and a cute idea, he carefully set his gym bag on the floor, being quiet with his steps as he walked up behind you. The minute his arms wrapped around your stomach, you jumped, placing your hand over your racing heart.

“Hoseok,” you whined, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to even pretend to be mad. Instead, your body instantly relaxed until you were leaning against him, your arms wrapping over his.

A soft growl of approval filled the room, his chest vibrating against your back and unable to help himself, he nuzzled the side of your neck. He took a deep breath of your scent, the strawberry cream washing over his senses and making his fatigue disappear until he couldn’t remember it.

Except, when he took a short breath, he noticed that there was something different about your scent. Something that hadn’t been there before. He frowned; his nose trailing against your neck, inhaling deeply until he reached your ear. With his eyes closed and body pressed against you, he was able to feel the little shudder that ran through your body for a brief second before you softly sighed.

It was when your fingers grazed the back of his hand, hesitantly pulling back before you were able to lace your fingers with his, that it clicked in place. You weren’t moving out of his embrace. In fact, it seemed like you were trying to get closer to him. Hell, he could hear how fast your heart was racing. If this was what he was thinking, he wanted to cry in relief and never let you leave his arms.

There was only one way to prove his theory.

Straightening up, he couldn’t help the smug grin when a soft whine left your lips, turning on your own to see why he had moved away. To you, there had been no indication that he wanted to stop his hug.

“Hobi?” you whispered, glancing down to see that he hadn’t removed his arms from around you. In fact, the second you were facing him, he pulled you even closer, bodies pressed against each other as you looked up at him.

Your breath was coming a little faster, suddenly feeling much warmer when he lifted a hand to brush your hair back behind your ear. His fingers were gentle to the touch, reminding you of water ripples when a stone was tossed into a river as he caressed your cheek. Without even thinking you leaned into his touch, eyes closing as this time, you slid your hand over his arm until you were holding his hand, finally lacing your fingers together with his.

He felt like he died and went to heaven.

Ever since that talk with Namjoon, he had thought it was going to take much longer to get you to see him as more than just a best friend. Guess he were wrong about that. “Open your eyes,” he gently requested, stroking your cheek with his thumb to coax you in case you resisted; he wanted to see those beautiful eyes of yours.

There was no resistance on your part though, complying immediately. You found yourself gazing up into Hoseok’s brown eyes, his lips softening into a smile that took your breath away. He was always handsome, that was a given from the first day the two of you met, but this time, it was like you were finally seeing him as the man he’s always been. In those hours that you had the apartment to yourself, you had realized how much your feelings for him had changed. While you loved your friendship with Hoseok, you wanted so much more with him.

He stroked your cheek once more, lowering his face to place a sweet kiss on your forehead, his eyes closing and his lips lingering on your skin. Scaring you away was the last thing he wanted, but this was the only way to figure out if you loved him the same way he loved you.

Despite him asking you to keep your eyes opened, you closed them again, a small smile appearing when his lips trailed their way down your temples to your cheeks where he kissed you again. All the while he gently moved his hand to rest on the back of your neck. When he rubbed the tip of his nose against yours, you softly giggled and if you had opened your eyes, you would have seen his smile that made his lips look like a heart.

Then without warning, he tilted his head and kissed you.

[loxxxlay]

Official note about Dark Thor Grandthorki fic and Semi-Hiatus

The Situation My Dumb Ambitious Ass Has Landed Itself In

Unfortunately, my big bang date has arrived a lot quicker than I expected it to. >.> On Friday, I’m expected to post the fic I’ve been working on since June. Don’t get me wrong, I have very much been working on it this whole time; unfortunately, I have also been doing quite a lot of exhausting things, including treatment for mental health and college classes. I’m suffocating in the stress of my last semester, which isn’t great for fanfic writing. T_T woe is meeee~

Because of ^, my dark-Thor grandthorki fic (god it needs a title too, huh) is incomplete and, no matter what, will not be completed by Friday (especially considering that all but one of my classes has something due this Friday, too, ugh). Luckily I did sign up for a solo track for big bang so no artist has been ill-used! Unluckily I have robbed some actually prepared & hard-working individual of a very lenient&late posting date. T_T Thus, I want to at least post something on Friday because it would be super inconsiderate and irresponsible of me otherwise, no matter how unprepared I am D:

So, here is what I have decided for my Big Bang/Dark Thor Grandthorki fic:

I am going to post the beginning chunk (about 10-15k words) of the fic! It will be posted as a WIP but as the spirit of the big bang is only to post a completed fic, the part I post will not end on any rudely patience-challenging cliffhanger.  (Those who are still waiting for OoT and Figment of Choice to be complete, I am so so sorry lmfao, and this will not be anything like those cliffhangers.) In fact, I’m trying to make this chunk end on a note that is as complete as possible, while still being a WIP.

As for the quality of this beginning chunk... sigh... It’s definitely not my best writing ever since the only times I could work on it were unfortunately times where my writing skill was rusty and atrophied. >.> However, it’s definitely not my worst writing either lmao, so hopefully it will still be enjoyable! @veliseraptor will be betaing the part most recent and most clunky (I didn’t ask her to beta all of it because that would be super unfair in such a short time frame lmao), and until Friday I will be doing my best to polish the rest!

However! As the entire fic isn’t quite written/outlined, I’m nervous about posting this beginning chunk because of how future writing might require changes to be made. Therefore, the part I post is potentially gonna be subject to extreme changes once I start working on it again months from now. In other words, after I graduate, I’m gonna edit it, possibly change things that happen in it, depending on future scenes, and hopefully do it better justice.

Why am I telling you all of this?

Well, because I don’t want y'all to read this Dark Thor Grandthorki fic with high expectations! T____T I know a lot of you have been super excited and eager to read it after all the excerpts I’ve shown you and all the meta I’ve posted about it. I remember receiving a ton of asks about it back in the pique of me working on it. And.. like.. I know I say this a lot, but I genuinely mean it this time: This is not going to be my usual expected brand of (allegedly) good fic. This is gonna be at least a little disappointing. This is not to criticize myself. It’s just a fact based on how I’ve been writing it and how little I can edit it right now.

And I’m honestly super sad because this project has been so so so important and fun for me that I don’t want you to go in without knowing that it won’t be as good as I want it to be.

In fact, my biggest reason for telling you all this is to give everyone an OPTION to actually NOT read it on Friday. If you want to see it in its final form and its final form only, you can instead wait until I’ve actually had a chance to complete the entire fic, edit what needs editing, get it beta-ed, and feel prepared enough to stick to a regular posting schedule. Obviously I don’t care one way or another when you choose to read it--have at it if you don’t care about it being sub-par! ^_^ I just want you all to know where I’m coming from and be able to decide one way or another. So yeah. Feel free to decide whether you want to read the shittier version on Friday or whether you wanna save yourself for the less shitty version later!

Semi-Hiatus Info:

Initial Note: I’m not really going on any kind of hiatus. I’m changing nothing about what I’m doing recently. I’m just... officially acknowledging that I’ve got one foot in fandom right now and one foot out. And that it will continue to be like this until I graduate in December.

And sighhh, I know I say “ohhhh I will be so much more free and able to work on fandom stuff when this date arrives” again and again and again and nothing ever changes lmfao. But when I say I’ll be more free to work on stuff after December, I actually mean it lmfao because that is when I’ll be graduated from college. I’ve never been graduated from college my entire time in fandom, so you can trust that I’m not kidding around this time.

So yeah, in light of my recent silences/etc, please don’t think I’m disappearing. T_T I’m just really stressed and ... even though I try to lie to myself about it ... realistically ... it’s just not possible for me to do all the fandom stuff that I want to be doing right now. :( Especially as this final semester starts ramping up and finals week starts approaching. :/

Obviously, I’ll still be busy after I graduate. I’ll be looking for full-time work and be starting the process of moving out (I’m super excited!) But the mental energy I’ll need for writing won’t be used up by essays and papers and original creative writing classes! (Assuming I get a seat-warming job, crosses fingers lol.) So basically I’m just letting you all know that, despite my behavior, I haven’t forgotten anything! I just really don’t have time (yet).

For sake of knowing when you can expect things, here’s a list of the things I want to work on (starting December) in order of importance:

(honestly this is as much for my reference as yours lmao)

Commenting and reblogging this year’s Grandthorki Day fics! Very top priority, and if I get a free two seconds in my life, I’ll try to do some of this before semester ends too

Putting Grandthorki Rimworld streams into shorter view-able highlights instead of the full-streaming chunks that they currently are in (especially that 3-hour unwatchable one)

Finishing OoT

Commenting on the rest of the grandthorki fics that have been neglected in recent months

Finishing Moment of Peace

Finishing Figment of Choice

Completing the Big Bang/Dark Thor Grandthorki Fic

Going through my drafts to answer all the asks and recommend all the fic I’ve put there

Finishing that Whumptober Collection and/or Re-Doing Whumptober (because lets be real by the time all of this is done, it will probably be October haha)

Updating Happily Ever After

If I’m forgetting anything that you guys really have been wanting me to do, please let me know!

[letters-from-the-three-houses]

ahh I love your blog!! could I have a dimitri sickfic please, if you're taking requests? he seems like the type to overwork himself (to me, at least :(

he really does!! the poor boy should take care of himself :(

ft. the rest of the blue lions (silver lining for the long wait?) bc they all care about their house leader

enjoy!

edit: every time i publish a request before i go to the school, the moment i arrive to class i always spot typos lol. and this one had a looot. fixed them up!

When the coughing first appeared, he thought nothing of it. They always came and went with a good night’s rest, and he had no reason to think this one would be different.

He was wrong.

Voice hoarse, he kept clearing his throat as he tried to help Annette with her homework. She always had difficulties explaining things properly, and their teacher docked marks because of her lack of coherent thought. So he took it upon himself to tutor her and help boost up her grades. “Imagine the gaits as beats,” he said. “A walk is four—going in the pattern of left hind leg, left front, right hind, right front, and so forth.”

“Left hind…front… Wait, could you repeat that? Which leg then what? This? This? This?”

They had drawn a nice, simple horse illustration on Annette’s papers, her pencil pointing at each stick leg to show which one she was referring to. Dimitri was having trouble differentiating them. He repeated his explanation. “Legs of the same side are back to back—left, left, right, right—while the halves interchange—back, front, back front.”

“So beat one is back left, beat two is front left…”

He nodded, then winced. Okay, that was a mistake. That just made his head hurt. “Yeah, just like that.”

She beamed. “Oh! I see! I think I get it now. Thanks!”

“No problem. What else do you need me to clarify?”

“Nah, I think that’s it. I’ll try to do the rest myself.” Motioning to her notes, she added, “Besides, you’ve helped me a lot! I’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Sure thing.” He rose from the seat, careful not to make any sudden movements. “I’ll get going then, but let me know if you need more help.”

“Yep! Thanks again, Dimmie!”

He stumbled away from a waving Annette, making sure to stand upright and walk in a straight line.

Now I have to feed the horses, go to lance practice, catch up on the assigned readings… Ah, I also promised Ingrid I’d try her new tea. She’s been making good progress with—

Cough.

He sighed. Hopefully this would stop soon.

But as the days went on, the more it took for him to resist barfing.

Placing a hand on the wall, he took a deep breath. Gods, it felt like his skull was cracking open. Everything hurt. Everything was hot. He didn’t even know where he was anymore.

“Common room?” he said to himself. “I think I’m near the common room.”

He had just come from the armoury, hands heavy with all the papers and materials he needed for the task. Felix didn’t realize it, but he sometimes broke the training swords faster than the monastery could replace them. Dimitri had taken up the slack in order to keep it well-stocked, so his friend could continue practicing without hassle.

“…Milord? What are you doing on the wall?”

He turned around. It was Dedue. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just thinking to myself.”

Dedue didn’t seem to believe him, and he bent over to study him with a frown. Or, Dimitri figured it was a frown. He couldn’t see it properly, but he was still conscious enough to realize Dedue wouldn’t be smiling. “You look sick.”

“I’m only taking a breather,” he insisted. He had to get to the library to find source materials for the essay Sylvain has having trouble on. If he left the books on Sylvain’s desk later, the boy would be able to finish his essay on time. “No need to worry.”

But as he tried to pat Dedue’s shoulder in assurance, his vision blurred and he hit the ground, things scattering around him.

“Milord?!”

“No…I’m okay…” He struggled to keep his eyes open, but the sudden fall and the yelling made his head hurt. “Just…tired…”

He felt Dedue lift him up, his arm hanging loosely around the other’s neck. Feet dragging,  breathing ragged, his mind was beginning to shut down.

“Really…it’s nothing…I still have to…”

“Milord,” he heard Dedue say. “With all due respect, be quiet.”

The last thing he saw was a group of people running towards him before he passed out.

He woke up on something soft. It took him a second to realize he was staring at the ceiling.

…Wait, where was he?

Jolting up, he surveyed the room. White walls, beds, sterile sheets. The infirmary, if he had to guess? His head hurt noticeably less, his throat was less clogged, and he could actually count how many fingers he held up before his face.

“Oh? You’re awake?” He turned to see Manuela in her chair, brows raised but otherwise nonplussed. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he said after some deliberation.

“Any headaches?”

“Yeah, but it’s not as bad as before.”

“Stuffy nose?”

“Less stuffy.”

She stalked over to take his temperature, noting it down on a piece of paper. “Your fever is breaking. And it looks like you’re not coughing as often. Good signs. Take it easy though. You’re still sick.”

“How long was I out for?”

“Nineteen hours.”

“Nineteen?!”

She gave him a reprimanding stare. “With how terrible your condition was, I’m surprised it wasn’t longer. You gave us quite a scare, looking as pale as you did. Your housemates were panicking when they brought you here.”

Thinking back to what happened, guilt set in. The last people he saw must’ve been them. “Where are they now?” he asked.

“The mess hall, having their lunch.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

He began to swing his legs over the bed before Manuela tutted, walking over to push him back on the pillows. “Hm? Who said you could leave? You’re stuck on bed rest for the rest of the day. Doctor’s orders.”

“But—”

“No buts. I don’t want you fainting in the hallways again.”

“Professor—” he tried again.

“Another word from you and the prescription will change to two days.”

He pursed his lips.

She glanced at him, smiling. “Focus on recovering, won’t you? Your housemates will feel better if you’re back to normal sooner than later.”

He nodded, not knowing what else to say. Or do, for that matter. Knowing he slept for nineteen hours straight, he wasn’t sleepy anymore. But he had a feeling if he asked the professor for something to keep him busy, she’d make him stay here longer than he needed to.

He could count sheep, he supposed. Try to reach a thousand, or something.

As he was about to begin, there was a knock on the door. He couldn’t tell who it was, but Manuela seemed to be expecting it. As she answered the door, she said, “You all ate quickly.”

“Yes, we couldn’t sit still.” His ears perked up. The voice was familiar. Mercedes? “How is he doing now?”

She thought about it, then motioned towards him. “I think it’s easier if you take a look for yourself.”

Someone gasped. “What?” That was Ashe, who slipped under Manuela to peek inside. “Does that mean it’s gotten worse? Is he—? Oh! He’s awake!”

And with that, the rest of the Blue Lions clambered into the room.

“He is?”

“Thank the gods…”

“I told you he was going to be okay!”

“Yeah, but if he wasn’t being an idiot in the first place—”

“Quiet. His headache just got better.” That shut them up. “You’re more than welcome here,” Manuela said, “but don’t aggravate him. Else I’ll kick you all out.”

“Yes, Professor.”

She shook her head, letting out a short laugh. “As long as you understand. Well then, children, I’ll be in my office. Call me if anything happens. And remember: no noise.”

As soon as she left, Ashe turned to Dimitri and stage whispered, “You sure you’re okay, Chief?”

He nodded. This time, it didn’t make him feel like throwing up. “Positive.”

“You should’ve told us you were sick,” Mercedes chastised. “What would have happened if Dedue wasn’t there to find you?”

He shuffled in the bed. “Well,” he muttered, “for starters, I wasn’t planning on fainting.”

“That is besides the point.” She sighed. “Please, we all care about you. Take better care of yourself.”

“Why didn’t you tell us about all those chores you do?” Sylvain chimed in. “We didn’t realize you did them all by yourself. You’ve done a lot for us. We want to do something for you too.”

Everyone nodded. He opened his mouth to respond, but stopped when he saw the earnestness in their eyes. It reminded him of himself, how he felt when he worked for the sake of his housemates. So he stared for a moment before saying, “Okay.”

“…Okay?”

“I admit I overworked,” he said, “taking in all those responsibilities at once. I guess I’ve gotten used to doing everything by myself. But you’re right. And I do trust you. As the leader of the Blue Lions, I’ve seen how hardworking and disciplined you all are.”

They looked at each other.

“So does that mean…?” Ingrid asked.

“Yeah. No more pushing myself to the limit. I’ll ask for help.” He cracked a smile. “I’m proud to have you as my friends.”

The solemn atmosphere broke out into exuberance, as they all expressed their relief in different ways. Mostly, through excited chatter and tight hugs. The wind rushed out of his lungs as they gathered in for a group hug.

“H-hey, having said that, I’m still sick.” He tried to speak up, but his words were drowned out by everyone else as they began splitting responsibilities between themselves. It didn’t help that his voice was still weaker than usual. “Can you all settle down a bit? It’s getting noisy. Guys? Guys?”

Omake:

From inside her office, Manuela could hear them as clear as day. Footsteps thundered People cheered. Laughter echoed. Did they forget her warning already? She wouldn’t be surprised if they broke something in the chaos.

Still, listening to them and all their enthusiasm—"rock, paper, scissors for who gets to help tend the stables!“—she shook her head and chuckled. I guess I’ll let it slide this time.

[asks are open!]

[ladyknightleyisundercover]

Take Your Child To Work Day

I am a BIG FAN of Emily’s @glisseowrites Professor Potter AU and wanted an excuse to play around in it, so I hope this passes muster! You totally do not have to have read her (wonderful, amazing) fic to get this one; literally all you need to know is that it’s an AU in which Harry takes the job of DADA professor. But also if you haven’t read her wonderful, amazing fic, go and do so AT ONCE. AO3

“Um...excuse me...Professor Potter?”

He tried to ignore Ginny’s snort of laughter at hearing him addressed in this way, and turned around, smiling. He’d clocked the group’s reflection in the shop window and recognised about half of the girls from his sixth-year Defence Against the Dark Arts class.

“Yes? It’s Emma, isn’t it?” he addressed the girl who’d spoken. Emma looked pleased.

“Yes, that’s right,” she said. “Um...we were just wondering...is this your son?”

He toyed, briefly, with the idea of denying it, saying James was just some random toddler he’d kidnapped for the day, but worried that this was the sort of joke that could have him struck off the teaching register, so simply nodded and smiled. “This is James,” he agreed.

“He’s adorable!” This was from a blonde-haired girl whom he didn’t recognise—with Defence being an optional subject for sixth and seventh years, he knew far fewer of the upper school. They all knew him, however, which made for an interesting day so far. He and Ginny had become used to wandering about Hogsmeade of a Saturday together, which was usually a restful way to spend the day after the rigours of a teaching week. Unfortunately, he had completely forgotten that today was a Hogsmeade day—the last one of the term—and so they’d spent most of the day dodging the Hogwarts students peppering the village, all of whom seemed to find it completely stunning that he did not, in fact, live in the stationary cupboard and appear just to teach them.

Although, to be fair, many of their other teachers live at Hogwarts, so that probably wasn’t an unreasonable assumption. He, however, lived with Ginny and James in a little cottage on the outskirts of the village, which was just what he wanted. Except the nights, like last night, when James had woken them up every hour, on the hour until five am, when he’d point-blank refused to go back to sleep at all. Sometimes, he thought it would be nice to have rooms at Hogwarts so that he and Ginny could take it in turns to go up there and occasionally get a good night’s sleep.

“How old is he?” Emma asked, coming a little closer.

“Sixteen months,” Ginny said. “And he’s not adorable, he’s an absolute monster. Aren’t you, Jamie?” she cooed.

“He doesn’t look like a monster!” said the blonde. “Hello! Hello, Jamie!” She and another girl crouched down, pulling faces to try to make him smile, and Ginny encouraged him to wave at the girls. He did, and they squealed with delight, until the noise overcame him and he buried his head in his mother’s chest, coming over all shy. This made the girls laugh, and they started peppering Ginny with questions about him, which she was more than happy to answer.

The fifth member of their little group hung back, however. Harry recognised Aly Rathbone, as she was one of his best students in the NEWT group. She was quiet, but sharp; her essays were excellent; she was always utterly fearless when they had a practical session, and he often wondered if it had crossed her mind to apply for a position with the Aurors. She would make an excellent one, for sure. Unless, it appeared, she was ever called upon to work with children. Currently, she was looking at James with a facial expression akin to Ron’s when he was in close proximity to Aragog.

“Sorry, Sir,” she said, noticing him looking at her. “I’m no good with children. Especially babies. They leak out of every orifice and cry all the time. I just don’t see the appeal. No offence.”

Harry and Ginny both laughed. “None taken,” said Ginny.

“To be fair, that’s a pretty fair assessment of him at this stage,” Harry said. “Though I do agree with you, Emma. He is adorable, too.”

The group of girls laughed. “You should dock her marks on her essay, Sir, for being rude about your kid,” Emma suggested.

“Or lose some house points, at least,” said the blonde.

“Mia will do anything so that Gryffindor don’t have the lead any more, but that’s so never going to happen! Professor Potter was a Gryffindor, he’ll never dock points from his own house,” said Emma smugly.

“Oh, but has he ever told you about how many points he used to lose for his house?” asked Ginny. Their eyes lit up. “There as this one time, right, that he and a friend flew this car—” But fortunately for Harry, at that point James let out a loud wail, distracting Ginny.

“See, this is because you’re bullying him, Aly,” Mia teased.

“Just because I think children are leaky and smelly and boring does mean I’m a bully,” Aly said, rolling her eyes. “Er, no offence again, Sir.”

“That’s quite alright,” Harry said magnanimously. “I’ll disagree on the last one for sure, but you are not wrong about the first two. But I tell you what: you all do your homework on time and behave properly in my lessons, and I’ll leave him firmly at home, so you needn’t be in danger of being leaked on or smelled at. Sound good?”

They all laughed again, then moved on, cooing goodbye at James.

“Come on, Professor Potter,” Ginny said. “Someone’s going to need changing soon, and I want to at least have started our Christmas shopping before that happens!”

*

“No response,” Ginny said, pulling her head out of the fire. “At home or at work.”

Harry cast around desperately for someone they hadn’t yet tried. “When’s Charlie due back?”

“Not until late next week; he’s still in Romania,” Ginny sighed, sitting back down at the table. Harry zoomed another spoonful of porridge into James’s mouth, to his delight, and Ginny drummed her fingers on the table. “...Hagrid?”

Harry shook his head. “He’s teaching all morning, and he’s got two groups of fifth years,” he explained. Ginny looked at him blankly. “Blast-ended skrewts lesson,” he amended, and she wrinkled her nose.

“Yeah, best not.” She sighed again. “I guess there’s only one thing for it, then. I’ll have to cancel.”

James was supposed to be spending the day with his grandparents, but Molly had floo’d this morning to let them know that Bill and Fleur’s kids had all come down with the Dragon Pox, which they’d caught from Teddy who’d come down with it two days earlier. She was going over to help out as best she could, and adding a destructive toddler to the mix would help no one, so Ginny had said not to worry, to give her best to the kids, and poor Bill and Fleur, and that she’d find another babysitter.

This had proven easier said than done: all their other options were unavailable. Andromeda was busy with poorly Teddy; Ron and Hermione were on a pre-Christmas mini-break; Percy was out of the country at a work summit; and George and Angelina were, apparently, unreachable (although, to be fair, this was the busiest time of year in the shop, and Ron was away too, leaving them a man down). Luna had been touring South America for months, and neither of them really wanted to leave James with their only remaining option—Great Auntie Muriel.

Still.

“You can’t cancel,” said Harry. “You’ve been waiting for this opportunity for months!”

Ginny was supposed to be interviewing Henrietta Hagglepuff, who had this year turned 100, but in her twenties had captained the Holyhead Harpies to ten successive League victories and had gone on to play for England. She was a legend in the game, but was also legendarily crotchety, and only granted interviews once in a very blue moon. When the Prophet had approached her, asking if she’d like to be interviewed to celebrate her centenary, she had agreed—on the condition that it was “that Ginevra girl” who did the interview. Ginny had been honoured, until she’d realised how much hard work it was to pin Henrietta down to a date. It was almost Christmas, and Henrietta’s birthday had been in early March. If they were going to get the interview in print before the end of the year, she had to do it today.

And now, this.

It was no one’s fault—she was sure Bill and Fleur would much rather their children didn’t have Dragonpox, after all. But being a working mother—even one who was a journalist, and who no longer played Quidditch professionally—was hard.

“I’ll have to cancel,” she said, resigned. “Can’t exactly take him with me, can I? You know what Henrietta’s reputation is like. No, I’ll just floo through to the office and tell them—”

“That’s it!” exclaimed Harry. “You can’t take him with you, but I can.”

“Oh, no, I don’t think—” began Ginny, but he cut her off.

“Why not?” he asked. “It would be different if I still worked at the Auror Office, but I’m only up the road now. He wouldn’t be in any danger, and I’ve got PPA time until break.” She gave him another blank look, this one bordering on irritation. “Planning, preparation and assessment time. No kids. Just marking. But it’s the end of term, I’ll catch up with that over the holidays. No kids until after breaktime, and even then it’s only Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff third years, they’re a doddle. Then my sixth years, but they’re a breeze, too, then it’s lunch, and I bet you’ll be back by the end of it.”

“Well...” she said, clearly trying not to sound too hopeful. Harry knew how much this opportunity meant to her, though, so he barrelled on.

“Ginny,” he said firmly, bouncing James on his knee. “I’m his father, not his babysitter. I’m as capable of looking after him as you are.” He scooped up some more porridge and zoomed it towards James’s mouth again. “He’ll be absolutely fine coming to work with me for one morning. And even if you’re not done by lunchtime, I’ll still be fine. Thursdays are my easiest days, and it’s the last but one day of term. It’ll be fine. Won’t it, Jamie?”

James took a big mouthful of porridge off the spoon, then promptly sneezed, showering both himself and his father with beige gooeyness. Harry could’ve sworn he heard a snort of laughter from Ginny, but when he looked back at her, her face was a picture of gratitude.

“It would mean a lot to me,” she said. “As long as you’re okay with it?”

“Of course I am,” he said, very firmly. “Look, if nothing else, it’s an opportunity to perfect my Scourgify spell.” She did laugh at this. “Go on, get your quills!” he added. “Or you’ll be late. Go on, go!”

*

Having essentially bullied her into leaving before she could change her mind, Harry set about getting himself and James ready for school. After nearly a term there, he had perfected exactly how long it took to walk at a brisk pace between his home, and his classroom (six and a half minutes, though if he jogged most of the way, he could do it in four). He duly set off at his usual time, and arrived fifteen minutes after lessons had started.

As it turned out, tugging a toddler along was much more time consuming.

Fortunately, as he had pointed out to Ginny, his first lesson was just planning, so no one noticed he was late. For fifty minutes, he played with James on the floor of his classroom (he’d been sure to pack plenty of toys and almost as many books as Hermione had taken with them on the Horcrux hunt) which James had enjoyed immensely. Everything had been totally fine, until five minutes before the end of break, when he’d waved his wand and tidied away all the toys in one fell swoop.

This, it turned out, was the wrong thing to do. James’s bottom lip started trembling wildly. “It’s okay, Jamie,” Harry said hastily, swooping him up into his arms, which usually stopped him from the worst of any meltdown.

James let out a loud wail.

“Ssh, ssh, ssh,” Harry said. “Everything’s okay!” Even James didn’t look like he believed this.

“Toy!” James wailed, pointing at the bag.

“Okay, you can have one toy to play with,” Harry said. He reached into the bag, and pulled out the first two he came to which didn’t come with excessive noisemaking facilities: a very beloved old teddy bear, and a wooden boat.

“OAT!” James said, cheering up immediately. Harry, somewhat surprised, passed him the boat, and James hugged it delightedly. He was able to tidy the rest of the classroom, easily then, hearing his third years line up outside, he went to open the door. He’d already given James a pep talk about being good whilst the pupils were there, and he hoped the boat would serve as a distraction.

“OAT!” James cried again.

“That’s right,” Harry said. “Boat!” He took a deep breath.

“Okay, guys,” he called to his class. The third years had been even noisier than usual, lining up outside, but he put that down to pre-holidays end-of-term spirit. They all fell into a sudden silence on seeing James, which was in some ways even more unnerving than when they were all overexcited. “Come on in, take your seats please.”

He led the way, and deliberately spent a while shuffling papers on his desk, James still on his hip, whilst they sat down. He could hear a low level hum of intrigue—but then, none of his teachers had ever turned up with a baby in tow. He couldn’t blame them. When he turned around, about half the class were looking at James with the classic oh my goodness isn’t he adorable gaze usually reserved for puppies and kittens, and the other half looked incredibly wary.

“Right guys,” he said. “I’m aware we have an addition to the classroom today: this is my son, James. My babysitter fell through at the last moment, but we’re going to go on with the lesson as planned. Don’t worry, he won’t bite.” Unfortunately, at that moment, James was overcome with a sudden shyness, and, in turning into his father’s body, managed to bash him on the nose, hard, with the wooden boat.

The smart bought tears to his eyes, and Harry pressed his lips together, trying not to show weakness in front of the kids. Or swear in front of them, either. That would probably be frowned upon more.

“Don’t worry sir, he could’ve clocked you somewhere far more painful!” called Michael Hickton, a Hufflepuff and the self-designated class clown. Fortunately, this broke the tension, and everyone laughed, Harry included.

“Right guys,” he said, once they’d settled down. “You’ll be pleased to know that my Christmas present to you all is no homework over the break.” The class cheered. “However, I am going to take in your Grindylow essays. Put them on your desks, please.”

There was much shuffling of papers in bags, but Harry was pleased to see that most of them appeared to have at least something he could mark—how good they would be was another story. Some looked remarkably short, or were filled with writing so large he could see it from his desk.

“Michael,” he called. “I can’t see an essay on your desk.”

“Er...forgot?” Michael offered.

“You forgot to bring your beautifully completed essay, or you forgot to do it?” Harry asked, in his best strict voice.

“Er...” Michael said again.

Harry had found the most successful tactic in situations like this was to just wait it out, occasionally raising an eyebrow, McGonagall-like, for maximum strictness. Most kids usually admitted to their misdemeanours, especially if you added “I’m waiting,” in suitably irritated tones.

Unfortunately, James had other ideas.

“BAD,” he said very firmly, having picked up on the general vibe.

Even Harry had to join in the laughter. “Yes, very bad,” he agreed. “Right, Mr Hickton. If that essay is on my desk by five o’clock tonight, no more will be said of the matter. If not, you can come back during lunchtime tomorrow and finish it then, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Michael said ruefully.

“Accio,” Harry said, collecting in the rest of the essays. “Right then. Hinkypunks.”

The rest of the lesson went smoothly, for which Harry was very grateful. James was happy to be carried around as he went desk-to-desk, chatting with the pupils, and the whole lesson was fairly relaxed. He wished them all a good holiday when they left, and a few of them even dropped Christmas cards on his desk at the end of the lesson. He was touched—he’d had a few drift in from some of his other classes, and each one made him smile—but also relieved. An extra toy for James to play with would not go amiss, and his son was delighted to be handed them, immediately shoving one particularly glittery number into his mouth.

Even more fortunately, his sixth-year class went even better. Some of the group of girls he’d bumped into in Hogsmeade with Ginny were also in the class, and they all treated James like a minor celebrity, except Aly Rathbone, who gave him as wide a berth as possible. James continued to behave himself, though, so the lesson—which was supposed to be a fairly relaxed one, anyway, it being their last of the term—went fine.

“Christmas treat for you all: no homework,” Harry said, as the bell rang for lunch, and they cheered again. “Have a good break all of you, and I’ll see you in the new year.”

They filed out with many ‘Merry Christmases’ and ‘Happy New Years’, and some cooing over James. Although everything had gone fine, Harry was glad to see them go. When he’d first started teaching, by the end of the day he’d been absolutely exhausted by the sheer effort of it all. As term went on, and he’d grown more relaxed, he’d felt less tired—or at least, not ready to absolutely pass out by six o’clock in the evening. Doing everything as he normally did, but with James strapped to his side, though, had bought it all flying back. He had no idea how he was going to get through his afternoon classes if he was already feeling as shattered as this. He wondered if Ginny was back yet...

“You alright, kiddo?” he asked, as James let out a cheery gurgle. But then...

“Mama!” James said, looking around. Uh-oh thought Harry, spotting a tremulous wobble in his lower lip.

“Very soon!” he promised, crossing his fingers. “Look, it’s Teddy the bear!” He summoned him out of the bag of toys, and charmed the stuffed toy so that it danced in front of him. “That’s right, I’m Teddy the bear,” he said, in his special growly-bear voice. “And I’ve come to eat you up, yum yum yum.” He waved the bear gently in James’s face. To his relief, his son giggled, tears temporarily forgotten. Harry continued to make the munching noises, until—

“Um...Professor Potter?” Aly Rathbone had stepped back inside his classroom—somewhat hesitantly, it had to be said. “Sorry, I’m not interrupting, am I? I can come back if this is a bad—”

“No, no, not at all!” said Harry, who was just about passed being embarrassed by this point. He passed James the bear (he immediately started trying to eat its legs) and switched him to his other side. “What can I do for you?”

“Well,” Aly said, walking over towards the desk. She lingered halfway across the classroom, which Harry at first thought was because she wasn’t keen on babies. But then he realised that something more was going on: she seemed to be working up to something, and he so tried not to push.

“Um, well. There’s this programme the Auror Office run over the summer, for Sixth Year students, a week long residential course to see if you’ve got what it takes to join them and see if you really do want to be an Auror,” she explained, like Harry himself hadn’t had a hand in setting up the course. “Which I do. Um, want to be an Auror, I mean. So I want to apply to the programme.”

“For what its worth,” Harry said, “I think you certainly have the skills in Defence and stand a very good shot at the programme.” Aly blushed, then clearly tried very hard not to look too pleased.

“You have to get the application in by the end of January, so I’m going to work on it over the break,” she explained. “What I wanted to ask was...would you be prepared to write me a reference?”

“I would be delighted to write you a reference,” said Harry, smiling. “As soon as you’ve got your application written, send me a draft and I’ll see if I can give you any pointers on it, too.”

“Oh, thank you so much,” said Aly, beaming back at him. “I know you’re really busy, so I really appreciate—ow!” She broke off as a teddy bear sailed through the air and clocked her squarely on the nose.

“What—James!” Harry was horrified. “I’m so sorry Ms Rathbone! That was very naughty,” he added, looking severely at James. “I’m very sorry,” he said again, turning back to Aly, who looked like she was trying not to laugh at him. “Are you quite alright? Is your nose okay? I can send for someone to take you to the hospital wing if you need—”

“I’m fine, honestly!” Aly assured him. “It was only a teddy bear, it didn’t hurt at all. It just surprised me! Here.” She handed it back to him, and Harry hid it from James immediately.

“I am so sorry,” he said again.

“It’s fine, really,” Aly said. “I suppose I’ll have to get used to being assaulted, right, if I’m going to make it as an Auror?”

“You’re not wrong, I’m afraid,” Harry said. “But you’ll no doubt be delighted to know that there’s generally very little working with children involved.

“Thank Merlin,” she said quickly, then looked guilty again.

“I don’t blame you at all,” he replied, grinning. “Now, are you quite sure you’re okay?” Aly assured him that she was. “Excellent. Bring me that application as soon as you’re back, and I’ll sort you out with a reference and anything else you need. Have a good holiday.”

Aly left, thanking him again, and Harry turned to his son. “You,” he said severely, “are an absolute terror.”

“Ah-BAH,” agreed James.

Harry sighed, ignoring James as he reached for the bear again, and checked his watch.

It wasn’t far to their little cottage in Hogsmeade, but by the time he walked there and walked back, lunch would be over, and he was starving, not to mention the fact that he’d have to find time to feed James. If he knew Ginny was home, that would be one thing, but if she wasn’t, it would essentially be a wasted journey. And he had his second years straight after lunch, and there were more than a few troublemakers in that class...

“Is it worth risking the floo?” he asked James rhetorically. His son almost certainly didn’t understand the question, but started to grizzle, groping for the toy Harry had taken off him.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Harry sighed, trying to soothe him. James wriggled discontentedly.

Ginny’s Mum assured them that all children got travel sick apparting, using the floo, or travelling by portkey, and promised that, once James got older, he’d certainly grow out of it. For now, they simply avoided any form of magical transportation as much as they could, and, where they really couldn’t, travelled with a spare set of clothes for James—and often for them, too.

Harry didn’t have any more clean work robes, and the walk to and from home would take the remainder of lunch, leaving him with no time to feed his son who was getting grouchier by the minute.

“Not worth risking it, is it mate?” he asked. James wailed. “I know, I know, you’re hungry. I’ll feed you as soon as I can. I’m just wondering if we could get home to see if your Mum’s back...”

“Mama!” cried James.

“I know, I know,” Harry said vaguely. “Right,” he said a moment later, pointing his wand at the various accoutrements James had managed to fling across the room and doing his best to tidy up one handed. “Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll drop you with Uncle Hagrid, floo home, see if Mama’s home, and if not I’ll come back and we’ll—”

“Professor Potter?”

Harry jumped, the familiar voice and familiar tone registering before the use of his title. He immediately felt guilty, then reminded himself that he was a fully grown adult and that Professor McGonagall (he still couldn’t call her Minerva to her face) was not about to dock him any house points or issue him with detention.

“Er, hello, Professor McGonagall!” he said, his voice about twelve octaves higher than usual. He fought the urge to try to hide James behind his back.

“And what have we got here, then?” she asked, sweeping into the classroom and holding out her arms.

“Hello, young man! How are you today?” The thing about Professor McGonagall was that she absolutely wasn’t one of those people who talked to children, no matter how young, in that annoying, cloying baby voice. Rather, she addressed James in precisely the same tone she had used the other week on the inspector from the Ministry who had come to assess the school. This meant that, for a short moment, Harry wasn’t sure if it was him or his son she was talking to.

James, whose mood changed like the weather, burbled cheerful nonsense at her. “I see,” she said gravely, when this had finished. “I entirely agree. Now, come on, do hand him over!” She motioned to Harry, who jumped to it. “There, now. Right. Off you go, go and get some lunch in you.”

“Uhhh...” said Harry.

“Lunch!” said Professor McGonagall again. “I take the welfare of my staff very seriously, and you cannot possibly expect to teach on an empty stomach, it’s not good for you at all. Especially as you’ve got those dreadful Cresswell twins this afternoon. For goodness’ sake, go and have a sandwich, Merlin only knows you’ll need it.”

“I was going to go and see if Ginny’s back, to see if I could take her James,” he said, only half aware of what she’d just said. Whilst he was sure there was technically no rules against taking your child to work, it probably wasn’t exactly encouraged either, and it also probably wasn’t a good idea to go breaking even the unwritten rules in your first term as a teacher.

“She couldn’t take him today—there was an emergency—no one hurt—well, there is the dragonpox—but that’s Ted and Vic and that lot, not James—so I had to—” He babbled on, aware himself that he wasn’t making much sense, but too tired to start again.

“Harry,” Professor McGonagall said loudly after a moment, cutting him off. Harry gulped, aware that she had used his first name. “You do not need to explain yourself to me. We are a friendly and welcoming staff here, or at least, we try to be. Even those of us who do not have children are aware that sometimes, parents face challenges and last-minute changes in babysitting plans. That you bought James in today, the day before the end of term, is no trouble.”

Harry’s shoulders, which had been somewhere up around his ears, dropped in relief.

“However,” she continued severely, and he immediately tensed again. “I have to say that I was very disappointed that you did not come to me immediately this morning.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Harry said at once. “Sorry—I should’ve known that there’d be some risk assessment form I’d need to do—I can go and fill that out now if you—”

“Nothing like that!” barked Professor McGonagall. “No, I simply wondered why you did not ask me to look after him? You know I don’t have any classes on Thursdays.”

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. Why hadn’t he thought of Professor McGonagall? She would’ve been the perfect choice.

“Never mind,” she said, before he could formulate a response. “You can make it up to me by not forgetting again.”

“Of course, yes, of course,” Harry said, nodding vigorously. “If Ginny has something on at work again and I need to bring him in—of course you’ll be my first choice. Of course.”

“Excellent,” smiled Professor McGonagall, rearranging a now very contented James in her lap. If Harry hadn’t seen it with his own eyes he wouldn’t have believed it, but as he watched, she bent down and kissed James very gently on the forehead.

She straightened up. “How about every Thursday morning, then?”

Harry grinned. “Sure thing, Professor.”