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thatdammchickennugget · 9 months

Note

Hi! Could i request a Remus x fem reader, where the Marauders make a bet on who can stay handcuffed together for longer and Remus and reader get paired up, they constantly get into awkward and funny situations together.

You Bet

pairing - remus lupin x gn!reader

summary - remus and you find yourselves handcuffed together as a result of a bet against james and sirius. the mischievous duo thought it would be a hilarious prank, but little did they know it would bring you and remus closer than ever

warnings - handcuffs (not sexual), fluff

wordcount - 2.3k

a/n - thank you so much for the request love <3 sorry this took so long, I started writing it, didn't like what I had written and then let it sit in my docs for weeks :/ but here you go, hope it's what you had in mind <3

James and Sirius entering a room cackling was never a good sign. Especially when they were trying to hide their laughter behind the closed fists pressed to their mouths, which could only mean that in the moment, they were laughing at your expense. There would be no reason to try and hide their amusement otherwise.

Remus had seemingly picked up on this as well, sitting up on the sofa next to you and putting down his book to muster the two troublemakers in question. “What are you up to?” he questioned with squinted eyes but his query was ignored.

James threw himself down on the cushions beside you, his elbow stabbing into your side in the process. In place of an apology, he leaned over to leave a smooch on your cheek. The mischievous glint in his eyes brought your attention back to the situation at hand. “Remus is right, you’re definitely up to something. You look way too pleased with yourselves right now.”

“Well, we are pleased. Because we just came up with an awesome idea!” Sirius proclaimed, arms behind his back as he took a seat on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

“And what idea would that be?” you questioned further, rolling your eyes at their dramatics. Why could they not just come out with it like normal people for once?

“Do you remember our little argument from last week? The one at the party after the quidditch match?” Sirius asked you with a smirk and went on when you nodded hesitantly. “We know how to test out who was right.”

You remembered the argument faintly, if you could even call it that. It was more of a small disagreement and had only gone on as long as it did because both you and Sirius had indulged in more than just a couple drinks that night.

James and Sirius had proudly stated that they were the greatest pair of best friends Hogwarts had ever seen, which offended you greatly and you quickly argued that Remus and you should get first place. The rest of your friends had been split, none of them agreeing or taking a side, which resulted in Sirius and you bickering back and forth about the topic for the rest of the night, Remus just shaking his head from where he was perched on the armrest of your armchair with his arm lazily placed on your shoulder.

“And how are you going to test it?” Your question caused the two to share a look, grins quickly spreading across their faces.

“Y/n. My dear friend. I specifically remember you saying that if James and I would spend any more time together, someone would end up expelled or dead,” Sirius went on, confusing you because you did not remember saying that. “But we believe we would be perfectly fine. You and Remus, however, could not even survive 24 hours of constantly being around each other.”

He might have a point there. Remus greatly enjoyed his alone time and regularly needed to be by himself for a couple of hours to recharge and you always embraced these moments with open arms, as they gave you the chance to let yourself sort through all the not-so-platonic feelings for your best friend you had been experiencing lately. Of course, you would never admit that to Sirius.

“I might have said that. But what does that have to do with anything?”

Sirius finally pulled his arms from behind his back in response, stretching them towards you, showing off the metal handcuffs he had been hiding the whole time. Your eyes widened slightly at the sight of them. “Where did you even get those?”

“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” Sirius said flatly, before brightening up again. “Anyways, they’re charmed to stay on until we have a clear winner. Once a pair can’t stand being attached to each other anymore, the other’s cuffs will open up and we’ll know for sure.”

You exchanged an unsure glance with Remus, before glaring at Sirius. “We don’t have to prove ourselves. And I’m not up for your bullshit if all I get out if it is bragging rights.”

“Ah, I had a hunch you would say that,” James snickered, sitting up. “That’s why the winners will get a favour from the other two. It can be anything you want. And I’ll even go as far and throw in 20 galleons worth of chocolate from Honey Duke’s to make the deal a little sweeter for our Moony.”

You looked over your shoulder to see what Remus was thinking about this and he just shrugged his shoulders. He would do whatever you wanted him to do. “Okay Black. We have a deal.”

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

As you sat at the dinner table, your mind couldn't help but wander. Being handcuffed to Remus was proving to be more challenging than you had anticipated, especially considering the secret crush you harboured for him since second year.

Every moment spent in this close proximity only fueled your feelings further, making it increasingly difficult to focus on anything else. Sure, the two of you had always been close and affectionate towards each other, but knowing that you could not easily step away to gather your thoughts if it got too much was kind of terrifying.

The first problem you ran into was actually eating your dinner. Every time you tried to use your left hand to cut something on your plate, Remus was about to lift his fork to his mouth with his right. It resulted in a lot of food ending up on the floor and a spilled cup of pumpkin juice.

James and Sirius were still confident they would win, making a big show out of feeding each other. Trying to ignore their antics, Remus and you decided to take turns eating. And being the good friend he was, it was your turn first.

As you took your turn to eat, you found yourself stealing glances at Remus, admiring his features, your gaze running along the scar beneath his eye, you became more and more aware of his presence looming next to you, so much closer than normal. Every accidental brush of your hands or shared laughter felt like a sweet torture, stirring up a mix of excitement and nervousness within you.

Trying to hide your growing nerves, you focused on the food in front of you. It was a delicious plate of roasted chicken with savoury sides, but your appetite seemed to have disappeared along with your ability to concentrate. The clinking of the handcuffs against the table kept reminding you of your predicament, a constant reminder of your tangled situation.

As you attempted to cut into your chicken, your movements felt clumsy and awkward. With each failed attempt, a blush crept up your cheeks, aware that your friends were witnessing your struggle. Your heart rate picked up, noticing the knowing grin growing on James' face.

The spectacled boy was well aware of the feelings you harboured for the scarred boy sitting beside you. The mischievous glint in James' eyes made you almost as nervous as the feeling of Remus's thigh brushing up against yours, afraid about what could be coming out of his mouth.

But Remus, being the understanding friend he was, tried to ease your discomfort. He encouraged you with a warm smile and supportive words, assuring you that it was just a temporary challenge. His kindness only intensified your feelings, making you long for a different kind of connection once again.

Deep down, you wished that the handcuffs weren't a part of some silly bet but rather a catalyst for revealing your true emotions. You yearned for the courage to confess your feelings, but the fear of rejection and the uncertain consequences held you back.

As dinner continued, you and Remus navigated the meal with a combination of shared laughter, understanding glances, and occasional moments of embarrassment.

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

After dinner, you and the group of Gryffindors navigated your way into the common room. Entering the room last left only one seat left on the couch, and you stopped in your tracks. Remus did not notice you stopping at first, accidentally pulling you along with him. When he noticed your reluctance, he turned to face you, his brows raised in question.

"Where are we going to sit?" you asked, nodding towards the already crowded couch.

He just mentioned towards the small space left unoccupied, fondly rolling his eyes. "Right there?"

"But there's not enough space for both of us. Maybe we can just sit on the floor?" Your face was already heating up again.

Remus playfully pulled you along, sitting down next to Sirius and pulling you onto his lap without any hesitation, causing laughter to fill the room. Your cheeks were burning by now and James teasingly smirking in your direction was not helping.

Soon, your predicament was forgotten as you got comfortable, embracing Remus' warmth against your back. Sirius was challenged to a round of exploding snap by Marlene and the growing frustration at one of his arms being rendered useless was evident on his face.

Amidst the jovial atmosphere, you engaged in light-hearted banter with James, Lily, and Mary. Jokes and witty remarks flew back and forth, adding to the delightful ambiance. The air was filled with laughter and camaraderie as you all shared the amusing predicament you found yourselves in.

Eventually, Remus settled into a comfortable position, retrieving a book from his bag, resting it on your thigh as he started reading. You could not help but be drawn to the sight of him engrossed in the pages, the way his eyes softened as they flew over the words. It felt like a serene moment amid the cheerful chaos.

Seizing the opportunity to share this intimate moment, you snuggled closer, resting your head against Remus's chest. With the book held between you both, you followed along silently, feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you engrossed in the story.

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

When it was finally time to retire to bed, you follow the boys to their dorm room, feeling a mix of awkwardness and anticipation. The challenge lies in figuring out how to sleep with the handcuffs and the nervousness of sharing a bed with Remus.

Inside the dorm room, you and Remus exchange unsure glances, uncertain of how to navigate the situation. The room is dimly lit, casting a soft glow on the surroundings. As you both settle onto the bed, you realise the closeness between you is both exhilarating and nerve-wracking.

With the handcuffs restraining your movement, you exchange sheepish smiles, contemplating the best way to sleep. Remus, with a gentle and understanding demeanour, suggests lying on your sides, facing each other. It's an unconventional arrangement, but it allows for a level of intimacy that sends a shiver down your spine.

As you lie facing Remus, your heart beats a little faster, unsure of what the night may hold. Closing your eyes, you try to focus on the sounds of your friends breathing as they fell asleep. But with the feeling of Remus' breath hitting your forehead and your hyper awareness of every single one of his movements beneath the shared blanket, you found yourself unable to drift off to sleep.

You were sure Sirius and James were long passed out, considering the loud snoring coming from their side of the room. In this vulnerable moment, Remus's whisper breaks the silence. "Are you awake?"

You hear his voice clearly even though he is being quiet, his face only inches from yours. His breathing is still slow and steady, so you nod in response, not fully trusting your voice as you opened your eyes to find him already looking at you, the moonlight falling in through the window reflecting in his eyes.

His eyes flicker over your face, scanning, as if looking for something. His gaze then lingers on your mouth briefly before returning to your eyes. You wondered if it had really just happened or if you had fallen asleep after all, your subconscious mind dreaming up the affection written over his face.

He looks back and forth between your eyes and lips again, before leaning forward slightly and pressing his lips softly to yours. Your heart begins to race with excitement, which quickly morphs into butterflies in your stomach. As many times as you had imagined this moment, nothing had even come close to what you were feeling right now, your body warm with desire.

He pulls away first, leaving you breathless as he rests his forehead against yours, a faint smile on his lips. Your fingers find their way up to trace his features, coming to rest on his cheek, fingers lightly tracing the scar you had been admiring earlier that night.

He laughs lightly, a low rumbling sound echoing through the otherwise silent dorm room. It’s lighthearted and endearing, and makes your heart skip a beat. “Was that alright?”

“Yeah. That was perfect,” you mutter in a hushed tone.

Overwhelmed with emotions, you reach out your other hand, and cup Remus's face. The connection between you deepens, and without hesitation, you share another tender, heartfelt kiss. The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you, locked in this intimate moment.

Unbeknownst to you, James, unable to sleep with Sirius's constant snoring, finds himself frustrated in his own bed. In an impulsive act, he kicks Sirius, causing the other boy to tumble out of the bed they shared.

Sirius awakes with a startled yelp, finding himself face down on the carpet. A quiet clicking sound caught your attention and you felt the handcuff around your wrist loosen. Sitting up to grin at Sirius still sprawled out on the floor, you hold up the handcuffs triumphantly. "Looks like we won the bet."

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leaentries · 1 year

Text

just stay | luke hughes

summary: troubled by luke’s continued absence, you just want him to stop. but he just wants you to stay.

warnings: angsty themes, mentions of abandonment, arguing, happy-ish ending (but also sad)

wc: 1.2k

a/n: this is my first angsty fic, so please bare with me! <3

You should have known better. You did know better.

Yet for some reason, you found yourself caught up in his chaos again. Luke was always a hard worker, this is something he prided himself on. The way he could completely immerse himself in his work and focus on nothing else. It was the only time his mind was quiet.

Sometimes it occurred to you that maybe his job was his only true love because, for the third time this week, Luke found himself walking through the front door at an ungodly hour. He assumed you’d be tucked away asleep, but was proven wrong when he saw your displeased features looming at him from the couch.

He gently set his hockey bag down, clearly sensing the thick tension practically rolling off your body. Luke was scared to move or talk for that matter. Now of course, he knew why you were upset with him, as you had every right to be, but what you didn’t know was Luke would often find an escape on the ice, a way to heal scars he tried so hard to conceal. So it was easy for him to lose track of time, needing to expel all of his emotions. It was the only way he knew how to process.

And with your ongoing relationship issues, Luke began to disappear. At least, that’s what it felt like to you. One of your biggest fears was Luke leaving you, so it truly felt like you were living in your worst nightmare when the distance between you grew. The feeling of abandonment engraved in your mind was impossible to get rid of.

Letting out a deep sigh, you couldn’t find the energy to scold him again. “Why, Luke?”

The simple question hung in the air like a rope, tight and unwavering. Truth be told, Luke didn’t have an answer. He didn’t know why all he wanted to do was bury his head in the sand until morning when he could get back to the rink. He didn’t know why he couldn’t convey his feelings properly. He didn’t know why he felt so scared to be vulnerable around you.

Taking his silence as an answer, you rose from the couch. Not taking a second glance in Luke’s direction, you made your way to your shared bedroom. Luke immediately followed suit. He watched as you grabbed an overnight bag, half-hazardly throwing things in. He reached out to touch your arm.

“No!” You yanked your arm away looking up at his guilt-ridden eyes. “You don’t get to feel bad. I told you. I told you how you being distant all the time made me feel. But you clearly don’t care enough to change anything.”

Luke roughly ran a hand through his messy curls.

“Look y/n, you know I care about you. But-” You quickly cut him off.

“See? There shouldn’t even be a but. You simply just don’t care, Luke.” Tears began to fill your eyes at this point. “I’m at a loss. I told you I wanted to work on us and I thought you did too. But apparently I was wrong.”

Luke shook his head in protest, “Of course I want to work on us! You haven’t given me a chance to try and explain!” He tried tirelessly to let you hear him out. Unfortunately, his attempts were in vain.

“I gave you plenty of chances to explain, Luke. It’s too late.” The next words that left your mouth cut through Luke’s heart like a dagger. “I-I think we should take a break.”

Luke’s breath quickened as his heart rate began to rise. Tears immediately sprung in his eyes, “Don’t say that. You don’t mean that. Please, please say you don’t mean that” He begged.

You had never seen Luke break down like that. The pain in your chest was hard to ignore as you tried your best to control the sobs that now shook your body. You didn’t trust your voice enough to speak, so you grabbed your bag and attempted to go around Luke’s frame. He gripped onto your bag, causing your body to sharply turn back.

“Y/n, don’t leave it like this,” He sobbed, “Don’t leave us like this!” You scoffed at his last remark.

“I’m the one leaving? Luke, you left this relationship a long time ago. It just sucks I didn’t notice it until now. I could have saved us both the time.” Your voice became dull. You had lost all motivation to fight for what you and Luke had lost. You were tired.

“I-I don’t understand. You told me you wanted me to try and here I am, trying. This time you are the one walking away. Not me.” Luke’s voice began to become unsteady. Overwhelmed with the severity of the situation. He was flooded with anger, confusion, and most of all: sadness. He felt completely helpless. Two hours ago all he wanted was to stay on that ice until the world stopped, but now it felt as though the world did. Except now, all he wanted was you.

“Just stop it, Luke. This is it. What’s done is done, and I need you to understand that.” The tone of absolute in your voice made his blood run cold.

“I don’t want to understand, I want you to stay.” Luke felt his ears start ringing. He was pierced by your neutral gaze. You didn’t continue towards the door, but you didn’t make a move for him either. Luke was in agony waiting for you to say something. He chose to take your silence as an opportunity.

“Just let me say something. Please.” He pleaded with you. “I know, I messed up. I wasn’t there for you, or for us. But I can’t stand the thought of waking up every day without you. Not hearing you sing in the shower when I come home from practice. Not smelling your perfume on my hoodies, or watching the way your mouth twitches when you’re reading. But most of all, I can’t fathom the thought of not having you love me. Out of everything in this world, you have been the one constant thing I can depend on. So please, please, just stay. Stay for me.” Luke’s bloodshot eyes bore into yours as his tears violently spilled from his eyes.

You felt your own drip down your face at his words, leaving hot wet trails in their wake. This is the first time Luke has ever been this vulnerable in front of you. You felt as if you were truly seeing him for the first time, the real Luke Hughes.

“Okay,” You whispered, “I’ll stay. I’ll stay with you, in this relationship. But I can’t stay here right now.” With that, you managed your way out of the bedroom to the front door. Luke desperately followed your steps.

“Baby, please. Wait.” He stopped in his place when you turned towards him. You walked up to him, cupping a gentle hand on his cheek. You placed a soft but promising kiss against his swollen lips. The love shared between you lingered as you pulled your lips from his. You stepped back, readjusting your bag on your shoulder.

“I need some time to think. But I’ll be back. I promise.” And with that, you left.

Luke knew better than to follow you. But here he stood, staring at the closed front door. Left with a reassuring promise, yet a shattered heart.

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x chubby!reader #luke hughes headcanons #luke hughes oneshot #luke hughes imagine #nhl x reader #luke hughes fic #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes angst #leawrites🍀

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ppushable · 2 months

Text

two ibuprofen

jean kirschtein x gn!reader / oneshot / wc: 7.3k

part 1 of rose tinted hours

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

Sunday morning. What's the best way to spend a Sunday morning?

Craned over the plaguefest of the guy I'm dating-not-dating, trying to shove two ibuprofen down his throat?

(It works the second time.)

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

ao3 tags:

ok here we go / Alternate Universe - College/University / Sickfic / Sick Character / Fluff / Kissing / Alternate Universe - Modern Setting / Texting / Vomiting / Not at the same time / Winter / gender neutral reader / i dont know how to make tea / mentions of sanrio / mentions of bagged milk / slight angst? i guess? if you squint? / reiner texts like a boomer and im sorry / POV First Person / Present Tense

i live in a special part of canada so excuse the bagged milk. (just kidding bagged is better)

reader is gn! if anything seems off please lmk. (do that if the text names are confusing too!)

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

Bzzz.

The darkness and warm comfort of sleep cracks as my eyes peel open to the vibration of my phone. My blurry wall is bathed in orange light and the cold draft coming in from the open window carries the swoons and trills of birdsong. Pretty…

Holy shit I have class I’ll be late—

With effort, I blink until the shapes around me become clean and defined. Am I late? Sunlight on the ruffles of my quilt like a Renaissance painting. Coats and bags hanging from the hooks on the back of my bedroom door. Clothes from the night before, still on the ground from when I dropped them there, dead-tired. My phone buzzes again, causing an internal jolt that spurs me to snatch it off the nightstand and expel the charger in one swift movement.

mr. handsome: emergency alert! 🚨 alert! god-level threat!

mr. handsome: One image attachment

Oh, it’s a message from Connie.

Oh, it’s 8:19 AM.

Oh, it’s a Sunday.

The glowing numbers on the screen indicate the next minute and I toss the phone somewhere on the bed before re-curling myself into my nice warm quilt in this nice cool morning. Sorry, Connie, the grocery run to 7-11 for more sushi will have to be done by someone else. This is probably the happiest I’ll be all day, provided I stay sleepy enough not to feel guilty for doing nothing. The world goes black.

Bzzz.

This time, my eyes peel open on their own.

Fine, Connie, you win.

Trying to ignore the bitter taste of morning in my mouth, I grope for my phone and lift it above my head.

sashacado: BAHAHAH GOOD LUCK WITH THAT ONE BALDY

Another message pops up.

mr. handsome (replying to @/sashacado): 🖕

mikachu: you need to get out of there, connie. like rn.

lainah: Run while you still can! LOL! 🤣

Although the last text pains me on a metaphysical scale, I open up the groupchat. It’s getting fishy now: first of all, Connie’s never up this early, least of all on a weekend; secondly, he said ‘god level threat’ (which is apparently the worst level of threat), and third, Mikasa rarely speaks in the groupchat. Sure, she lurks, but she only ever emerges when something big is happening.

Some more people are active now and I have to scroll up to find Connie’s image.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Blurry and off-centre as the picture might be, it clearly depicts the ugliest green-and-white striped couch I ever laid my eyes on (“It’s an antique!” Connie had argued) that belongs to Connie and Jean’s shared dorm in which the latter of the two is curled up in (yet he still scrapes the armrests with the top of his head and toes). Littering the stained carpet around him — they prefer eating on the couch than on an actual table, so spills are inevitable — are wads of crumpled-up tissues. To really top it off is the Cars blanket that Jean won at a festival that’s seemingly in the process of being violently torn from his form, clinging to the armrest closest to the camera and pulling beyond. A message banner pops down from the top of the screen.

jean: i’m fine. and give me my fucking blanket back. i can hear you giggling from your bedroom. connie.

grammar police: connie give his blanket back

lainah: Haha!

grammar police: i swear things like this only happen when I’m gone

Right, Marco usually goes home for the weekends.

ymi: Lmfao that thing prolly gave you a disease in the first place

ymi: Have u even washed it once

mr. handsome: cut the ccrap Ymir we wash it more than you wash ur hair

sashacado: LMAOOO

ymi: At least I have hair

sashacado: AGAHAHH CONNIE

grammar police: you guys

grammar police: missing the point here

mr. handsome (replying to @/ymi): and its sad cuz mine is still better than youres

mr. handsome: like girl tf is up with the shaved sides

mr handsome: jojo siwa looking ass

sashacado: LMAOOOOO CONNIE EAT HER UP

Smiling, I return to the main chat screen.

ymi: Count your fucking days springer

ymi: At least I still have a girl

grammar police (replying to @/mr. handsome): ^yours

mr. handsome: ok nerd

grammar police: I’m taking away your Netflix

mr. handsome: I sincerely apoligize for my words.

grammar police: it’s the effort I guess

grammar police: back to Jean though

jean: i told u im prrfectly fine. just give ne back my blanket i’ll sleep it off

grammar police: do I need to come back to campus for the weekend?

mikachu: im stopping by the store. can grab some medicine

jean: ffs IM FINE GIVE ME MY BLANKET CONNIE OR IM TELLING THEM ABOUT THE GRATER THING

grammar police: Jean you need some medicine at least. I heard there’s a nasty flu going around and you’d be the type of person to catch it

grammar police: did you call your mom? I can call her if you want

jean: IM

jean: FINE

jean (replying to @/grammar police): DO NOT DO THAT

Poor Jean. He doesn’t have anyone to take care of him. Connie’s a mild germaphobe, believe it or not, at least when it comes to sickness (he nearly went crazy during Covid) and is probably keeping a safe distance from his roommate. And it’s not like any of his other friends are willing (or able) to help out, with Marco out of town. He doesn’t have any siblings here; the closest relative he has might be his mother all the way back in Trost. Not even a significant other.

Well. I mean.

There’s me.

But we’re technically not dating. Not yet. We’re still trying to figure things out — hell, I don’t even know if he likes me back.

Well, okay, there was that time we kissed. But it’s just a kiss. And it was an end-of the year party, and everyone was feeling it. And it’s January now and we haven’t done it again so it’s nothing. It’s nothing!

But that doesn’t stop the guilt from gnawing at my foundations like a tiny, evil beaver.

Wow. So you’re willing to let a guy suffer just because you’re unsure? Now that’s selfish. While you’re sitting here muttering to yourself he’s probably burning with fever and wishing he were dead. Real classy.

Shut the fuck up, beaver. It’s weird to just barge into someone’s house like that. And we don’t know each other that well.

You’ve known each other for a long time. He’s sick. At least take care of him. You don’t need to be his lover or whatever. Just be a good friend, huh?

I guess…

And you know Connie, too, don’t you? You’ll be doing him a big favour by getting this plaguefest out of his living room. He needs to finish off Breaking Bad so he can look at the memes without being spoiled. You’re not helping dear old Connie out, either.

Fuck, you do have a point.

Besides, everyone knows what happened between you and Jean at the Christmas party. They’re probably waiting on you to—

With great effort I manage to unfocus my eyes to see if anyone mentioned me but Connie and Jean have devolved into another stupid somewhat one-sided argument. So they aren’t saying anything outright. But they’re probably thinking it.

They’re definitely thinking it.

Okay, that’s enough from you.

I swipe off the groupchat to see all of my chats and open up my DM with Jean — right near the top — and start typing.

me: hey. sorry if this is weird, but i wanted to check on you bc ur really sick apparently

No, that won’t do. I purge the message.

me: hey fuckass. did you go out without a coat again? do i need to come and take care of

No, not that, either. Hopefully he isn’t looking at our messages or else he’d see me typing like an idiot. I tap the side of my phone as I think, stringing together ideas and words and different ways he could perceive me based on how I put them together.

I go back to the main groupchat.

me: @/jean @/mr. handsome im coming over. be there in 15

me: also @/mikachu could you pick up some lozenges and cough syrup? ty i’ll pay u back <3

I zone out at the screen until someone starts typing and throw the phone down on the bed again before scanning the ground for something wearable. Goodbye, sweet air and Renaissance scene and birdsong. After assembling myself and brushing my teeth, I check the mirror attached to the back of the shared bathroom door that Sasha decorated with some Sanrio stickers from Amazon. She had a phase.

Matching socks, jeans, campus sweatshirt, T-shirt underneath big enough to splay out underneath like a fan. Hair a mess. Face a mess. Good enough. It’s not like Jean will look much better. It’s not like I care that much about how I look around him.

I pull the door aside and collect my belongings — phone, bag, coat — before whisking through the door, full sail for Connie’s res building. I hit the stairwell running.

Do I know how to take care of sick people? I mean, more or less. It’ll be fine. All you have to do is feed them and make sure they don’t puke all over themselves. Right?

On the way I stop by one of the cafeteria atriums, one of the smaller ones I frequent for its souped-up coffee counter with every additive known to man. I scan the containers on the counter — milk, cream, nutmeg — until I find the packets of honey and shove one into my bag while trying not to look guilty to the few people that dot the room. I more than paid for it just by attending.

Now on the main floor by the parking lot, I struggle to untangle my keys from the mess in my bag and, without looking, push the unlock for my car. It beeps faithfully in the same place I left it and I hurry to the sound like a moth to flame.

It’s a smallish car that’s starting to rust near the top. I open the drivers’ door and toss my bag in the passenger seat before throwing myself in and shutting the door, shutting out the world, disturbing the rubber Kuromi keychain hanging from the rearview mirror. My breath comes out steamy. The car comes to life on the third try — best to let it warm up a bit before I go.

Inhale, exhale. I open up the groupchat.

jean: you will do no such thing

jean: @/me

mr. handsome: so THATS what it takes for u to finally visit

mr. handsome: ive been keeping it nice and clean just for u 😙

mr. handsome: until mr covid came and ruined it

mikachu (replying to @/me): dw about it babes xx

sashacado: mika get me chocolate

mikachu: maybe. driving

Mikasa and I, weirdly enough, were the first to get our full licenses. A smile pulls at my face and I duck down to look at my lap. Jean had nearly begged us to give him driving lessons, and of course, I agreed. Days of close calls, driving under the speed limit, getting honked at, constantly checking the mirrors, nearly rear-ending people at stop signs, elbows touching on the armrest…

Of course, now Jean can drive without a hitch. Maybe not good enough yet that I’d sleep while he does it, but that’s a personal thing.

I almost put my phone down before noticing I have a few more private messages.

jean: seriously you dont have to come. im fine

jean: its acc not a big deal

jean: i had colds like this before. im not ur responsibility

Something about that last line stings. I guess he’s right, technically. We’re not that close. Who am I kidding?

But I already announced to the world what I’m going to do. And I already decided on it.

me: im coming whether you like it or not. watch connie for me

When I can’t see my breath anymore I start driving.

Stohess is a big campus. And while I’m not a huge fan of carbon emissions, I’m also not a fan of 20-minute walks in blistering, dry cold (or wet cold, for that matter). Also, I don’t want to keep Jean waiting. The eco society is going to kill me.

I pull in to the all-too-familiar parking spot, the one Jean pulled into a hundred times in preparation for his driving test in his new, expensive car his parents bought him because “he was doing so good with his driving!”

He’d thanked me profusely for helping him out, which, in hindsight, was mildly out of character for a broody, arrogant guy like him.

But then again, so was kissing me at that party. Not so much the kissing part. Just the me part. And the gentle-tight way he held me, the way he looked into my eyes…

I suck in a sharp breath. But I’m doing this as a friend. Not because of whatever we might be. If Connie was the one who got sick, I’d be here, too.

Steeling my nerves, I take my bag with an iron grip and make for the dorm.

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

The door is already open when I arrive, propped open by a deflated volleyball. Weird. Some music that sounds like it was taken straight from Fast and Furious plays from inside. Knowing Connie, it probably is.

Nothing stirs when I open the door, but it is a pretty quiet door. The living room is right in front of me, ugly antique couch and all, but it’s completely empty. I didn’t walk into the wrong room, did I?

“Connie? Jean?” I slip off my shoes — Connie is insistent (I think shoes in the house is a crime anyway) — and creep through the dorm. “You guys?“

My voice rings through. Nothing. Peals of dread condense in my stomach and I pick up the pace, nearly barreling to a stop in front of the bathroom. I knock; first on the bathroom, then Jean’s bedroom. Connie left his door open.

“Jean? You in there?”

No response.

“I’m gonna— I’m opening the door, okay?”

And without time to think about what might be on the other side, I twist the knob and push.

Nothing. I even look behind the shower curtains.

Who even closes an empty bathroom?

Next is Jean’s room, but it’s also empty.

Where the hell are they?

I check my phone again and text the group chat.

me: @/mr. handsome @/jean where are you guys?

Waiting…

lainah: Gym

What.

me: are you sure.

lainah: One image attachment

Sure enough.

I should have noticed when his parking spot was empty.

me: dont let them leave. omw now

Sasha starts typing something but I throw my phone in the bag. I should have known they’d pull some bullshit like this. Well, not they. He. Something blistering and boiling threatens to spill over within me, but I take a deep breath. I’ll deal with him when I get there.

Jean’s a smart man, but not when he’s being stubborn.

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

The car ride, despite being short, gave me a chance to cool my nerves.

It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. I grip the steering wheel in front of the gym. It’s fine. And step out.

Anytime Fitness is a strange and marvellous place full of people you might not see anywhere else. I don’t care about them. I scan the machines and see Reiner on the treadmill, and he meets my eyes a moment after. He nods in a different direction and I follow his gaze until I see the unmistakable bronze and shaved hair combination. I mouth a thank you and he smiles.

I must look completely out of place here, weaving between sweaty and half-naked bodies in my coat and jeans like I have a demon on my tail until I’m standing behind the chest press.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Connie’s saying and by the way Jean grunts it’s definitely not the first time.

“Let it go. I’m fine, and I’m going to the gym like I always do.” Jean’s voice is thick and nasal. “Buzz off.”

“Look, I already left the house with you. I can’t let you die here.”

“I said I’m fine—”

At the end of Jean’s rep, I slip the pin out of the weights. Jean nearly lunges over as the heaviness suddenly decreases.

Both look at me.

Connie looks normal. Jean is already slick with sweat, hair askew, red-nosed, with a slight wheeze lining his breath as he sits on the edge of the seat. Not normal. Not fine.

“Jean. My car. Now.” I point at Connie. “You take his back.”

A slight smile cracks his visage and that’s all I see before whipping around like an army man and making my way out.

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

There’s a lot of things I could be saying, but I don’t, because there’s too much. So we drive home in silence.

Now that we’re closer, I can really hear the struggle with Jean’s every breath, the occasional cough, the mucous-laced sniffs, as much as he might try to hide it. He just sits there, going on his phone, staring out the window, until:

“Pull over.”

And his eyes are closed, head tilted up, pained look on his sweat drenched-face. I move to the side of the door without question and he scrabbles for the handle — I unlock it for him — before opening the door and half-falling over as he pukes.

I pinch my lip between my teeth and look the other way as the smell hits right after. Fine my ass.

Ever since I was young, the sound of heaving has always unsettled me. Even fake gags. Like it flips a switch in my heart to induce a sudden thrill of terror as if someone horror-movie screamed. And yeah, it’s just throwing up, but I hate it.

My heart races as he unloads again and I just want to plug my ears. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I can’t sit here.

When the coast is clear I hop out and walk around the back. Jean is squatting on the pavement right before it hits the grass where his vomit lays, poking up through the stiff shoots. Though we’re outside, the smell is even worse. I try not to look at it as I hand Jean a bottle of water and set a stack of napkins I filched from Wendy’s on the passenger seat beside him.

“Thank—” he manages to croak out before pitching over again.

He’s been growing out his hair. I guess I didn’t notice it before, but now it’s long enough to get in his face in this position.

I gather the strands in my hands — soft as that day before the turn of the year — and hold them on the crown of his head as he retches.

When he’s done, I consider rolling down the windows, but decide against it.

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

Jean hardly notices when I pull in (again). Weirdly enough, his car still isn’t here — either Connie drives like a grandpa or he’s gone off somewhere.

“Jean.”

He inhales through his mouth, sucking up the new, pukey scent of my car, and opens his door with half-lidded eyes, leaning hard. It bumps against the campus van I’m parked beside and I cringe. Parked too close. He’s in no state to stand up on his own, let alone walk.

“Let me help you.”

He grunts in something like disagreement and I shut my door on him, going around the back again. Soiled napkins are shoved into the door storage and the water bottle is half-empty and crushed on the floor. Well. I offer a hand and after some hesitation he takes it, clasping my shoulder, and when I help him stand the added weight nearly crushes me. Jean is big, maybe not muscular like Reiner, but tall. Even through my coat and his too-thin sweater he radiates heat and he grunts a sickly air into my ear as he finds his footing. There’s barely enough room for the both of us between the car and the van so I shuffle us sideways, around the other side of the car and to the front. I gently lower Jean so he leans against the hood.

“Wait here.”

He doesn’t object as I shut the passenger door and lock the car before going back and offering my shoulder once again and I nearly fall over once again and we huddle together into the building. He’s never this quiet. Never so agreeable. Never so willing to take the help that’s offered to him.

This is a side of Jean I’ve never seen before. A side that I surely was never meant to see.

I swallow thickly and shuffle our bodies forward so I can push the button for the elevator. His head bumps against mine as it droops but he quickly straightens. “Sorry. Sorry.” His voice is gravelly and small, so small, as if it came from another person entirely.

I stare at the side of his face, but he’s focussed on something far away. “You’re okay, Jean.”

The elevator dings open and we go in. Seventh floor button. The door rolls shut.

Beep. Our knees buckle as the elevator accelerates and the screen above the button panel indicates that it’s going up. It usually smells of antiseptic unless it’s been raining.

Beep. The elevator’s always been slow which is why most people take the stairs instead. Connie calls it the ‘hellevator’ because he swears it almost dropped him once.

Beep. Jean’s trying to steady himself; hold himself up.

Beep. We haven’t been this close together since the party.

Beep. Jean takes an unusually large, wheezy breath and holds it. “Sorry.” His voice is hardly a rumble against my side.

“Why are you sorry?” I ask, quietly.

Beep. “For making you do this.”

Beep. The door retracts and muffled hip-hop fills the air. We walk off the hellevator and stand in front of the dorm. 704. An opaque plastic bag hangs off the handle and I take it in the same hand I hold my bag — thanks, Mikasa.

“You have your key?”

Jean grumbles and taps his pockets, pulling out a key ring. A rubber charm — Badtz-Maru, the little angry penguin — hangs from the ring. Sasha gave all of us one in her Sanrio phase. Keroppi for Connie, Charmy for Mikasa, Pompompurin for Marco, Cinamaroll for Eren, Kuromi for me. I (was forced to) help her choose.

The key retracts and Jean uses his free arm to turn the handle and shoulder the door open. He clears — tries to clear — the phlegm in his throat. “Alexa,” he gurgles. “Alexa, stop.”

The music immediately ceases and we stumble to the couch where Jean unceremoniously drops and tucks his head between the armrest and cushioned back, looking utterly uncomfortable.

“Get up, Jean.”

He sniffs.

“Come on. Bed.” I drop my bags on the coffee table. “Not couch.”

“No.”

“Connie will throw a fit. And so will I.”

“Just—” he tries clearing his throat again— “go.”

“I’m not leaving until you get better.” I blink. No, I’m not leaving him here alone. Why does that surprise me?

“I’m fine. I told you. Done it before. I’ll get better.”

“Done it before?” I giggle falsely. “What, you used to rawdogging colds all by yourself?”

A car passes outside, a familiar rising and falling sound against the unfamiliar silence of the dorm.

“Jean?”

“Go…”

And I swear he’s never sounded so… vulnerable before. Like he’s laid out all his organs on a big table and I’m holding the scalpel. Just waiting for the incision.

A little softer, I tell him, “I’m not going anywhere, Jean.”

And I take the goodie bag and head for the simple kitchen — that is, an inlaid fridge, stove, and pantry cramped behind an island counter with a sink. I hold the electric kettle Reiner got for Jean’s and Connie’s fifth anniversary (he thought they were together at first) under the sink and let it fill to two cups just in case before setting it back and switching it on.

Then I rummage through the drawers and cupboards until I find an old, strangely moist box of tea packets. Yuzu mist or Cheerful Citrus? I opt for the latter.

Tearing open the package, I glance at Jean who still hasn’t moved. The teabag I dump into a printed mug that Jean likes to use.

NUMBER 1 COUGAR

I wonder where he got that.

The kettle clicks off when the water boils and I fill the mug. Oh. Honey would be good. I return to the couch and sift through my bag, shifting my keys in the process. Now Jean stirs.

“Are you leaving?”

“No, Jean.”

I keep rummaging. I know it’s in there. Might be in deep, but—

“Please don’t.”

I pause, emotions — affection? concern? — swirling like particles of tea in water. “Okay, Jean.”

I finish making the tea in silence with an almost-empty bag of milk left in the fridge. How do these boys even survive? All that’s in there are cold cuts and a bag of only bread butts, among some other, strange things. Including a pair of boxers.

“Can you sit up?”

Jean sighs into the cushion and braces against the armrest to push himself into somewhat of a sitting position.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

His eyes cast down. I swallow the silence that suddenly envelops us. Nothing weird. Just a room. I’m just a caretaker. “Come on, Jean.”

“Can— can you help me?”

I fall into the little divot in the couch where Jean sits and let him wrap an arm around my shoulder. “Ready?” I say. “One, two…”

We stumble up and pass through the already-ajar door to Jean’s bedroom and I nearly stop to take a better look. He has blackout curtains, currently drawn, painting the room in a dark blue light except for a thin bar of sunlight from between the curtains that propagates as a glowing line on the carpet. The walls are plastered in posters, sketches, paintings, sketches. Half-finished drawings on his desk and swivel chair and a few on the ground. A small compartment shoved into one corner with every art supply imaginable.

Still taking in the view, I (we) back into the bed, butt-first, and Jean unwraps himself from me.

“You won’t… do anything weird… to me?”

I smile. Conversational, that’s good. “Not unless you want me to.” And I wish I had shut up before the first word even came out of my stupid mouth. Standing, I look over my shoulder. “I’m getting the medicine.”

“Wait. Don’t.”

Under the doorframe now, I pause. “I’m not leaving. I’ll be right back.” And I go to the goodie bag.

I should just work on keeping my mouth shut. Mikasa had picked out some ibuprofen, NyQuil, and lozenges. Pills should be good. I take the mug and the box and head back.

When I get back Jean’s sitting against the headboard, trying to uncrumple his blanket to get underneath.

“Let me help.”

He watches me then, helpless — Jean fucking Kirschtein, helpless! — as I set down the pills and mug on his glass nightstand and unfold the mess he’s got on the mattress. “Pull your legs up.”

He obeys. I pull the quilt over him.

I try not to stare. “You can put your legs down now.”

He obeys.

“Sit up, Jean. You need more pillows.”

Eyes glued to me, he leans forward so I can take his other pillow to prop him up more comfortably, leaning back when I touch his warm shoulder. Then I take the mug and offer it to him. “Drink some of this.”

Painfully quiet, he takes the mug with both hands and takes a tentative sip, lips curling around the brim of the ceramic to slurp up the soothing drink. He’s doing good. Until he hits a bump and starts sputtering.

Immediately I take the drink as he coughs up whatever went down the wrong way. When he’s done I realize I’ve been rubbing circles into his back so I take my hand off.

My phone buzzes in the living room. Shit.

“I’ll be back.”

Jean stares at his knees under the blanket and doesn’t move when I come back.

sashacado: omg yall

sashacado: theyre gonma be killed💯

armong us: What’s going on?

sashacado: @/lainah what did u do

lainah: One video attachment

sashacado: ONG LMFAOOO

sashacado pinned a message

mr. handsome: @/me im headed to urs with sash for a while. hope thats cool w you and all lmk if u need anything

jägermeister: are u fr leaving those two alone

mr. handsome: well good morning to u too pricness

Deleted message

jägermeister: oh right

sashacado: connor springer delete that message rn @/mr. handsome

sashacado: @/mr. handsome

mr. handsome: ok ok jfc im sorry

sashacado: @/mr. handsome

sashacado: ok good

Whatever the hell they’re up to now.

Jean thrashes slowly and I feel a little guilty for staring down at my phone the whole time. “Are you okay?” I breathe, sticking to his beside like a magnet. “Are you in pain?”

“Hot,” is all he says.

I peel the blanket off. He is hot. Really hot.

Not like that. He’s feverish.

“Can you… help me?”

“Yeah?” I stare at him — help with what? — until he raises his arms over his head.

Oh. A few circuits in my head switch off. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m can help.” Idiot.

Like touching something radioactive I grasp the edge of his sweater and slowly raise it, catching the shirt underneath for a fleeting second before it falls back down. Deep breath. Yes, I am helping out a guy I’m dating-not-dating who I’m definitely not attracted to to take off his clothes in his bedroom in his empty dorm. Because he’s sick. No problem. Because I’m a good friend.

The neckline catches on his jaw and I unhook it, delicately trailing the scruff on his jaw in the process.

And it’s off and on the ground. Holy shit. Jean’s been sweating. And I know all that dampness on his shirt, clinging feebly to his attractive sick form, didn’t come from his 10 minutes at the gym.

He doesn’t lower his arms. Oh, so we’re doing it like this.

Okay.

I come forward again, within earshot to the rattling in Jean’s chest with his every breath, and quite literally peel the thin white shirt off. This time it’s impossible not to touch his incredibly warm and damp body, not to scrape my nails against the softness of his skin, from his waist to his broad shoulders all the way down his arms. Now he puts them down.

I almost forget he still smells like puke.

“My pants…”

Ohoho. No way, buster. You’re on your own. I’m calling Connie. Nooo way.

“Okay, but unbuckle yourself.”

He does without question, fumbling first with his belt, which I help slide off, and then his jeans.

What in the ever-loving fuck am I doing? This sounds like a smut setup. No. I’m just a friend helping out a sick friend, two friends who have never done anything even slightly romantic together.

“Sit up on the edge, okay?”

He heaves his sweaty self to the edge of the bed, palms leaving wet marks on the sheets, and, staring at the ceiling, I grasp at the hem of his pants (skirting his boxers or whatever he’s wearing because I’m not looking) and pull them (he lifts himself at first to help) all the way down. In one smooth movement I turn back around.

“Put your shirt over your… yourself.”

I wait a good few heartbeats before turning back around and lo and behold, he’s done as told. Frankly, it looks even worse now, like he’s lying in bed completely naked with just a shirt covering him. (But that’s only true if I think it’s true!) The jeans I’m still clutching for some reason I deposit on a chair.

“Jean, I’ll be right back, okay?” I wait for a response I should know isn’t coming before going out again, this time in search for a facecloth. Which I do find, shoved in the corner of the linen cabinet. I should be grateful they even have some, but then again, it might’ve been another gift from Reiner they didn’t have the heart to throw away. I rinse it under some cool water and announce my re-entry.

“I’m back. Sit still.” Folding some of the damp cloth over two fingers, I carefully dab at the sweat on his forehead. No, I need to… I pick off some strands of his sandy hair from his face, holding his hair back against his scalp, and try again. Better. “Jean?”

He opens his eyes halfway, and they raise lazily to meet mine. He’s sweaty everywhere and too late I catch myself stroking his head. I wipe his cheek next.

“Drink some tea, okay? I need you to take a pill.”

“Pillk?”

“Yes,” I say encouragingly, like training a puppy. Neck next. “Just a pill.”

He takes in a deep mouth breath. There’s a portrait stuck to the ground on the other side of his bed.

Is that…

“I can’t.”

My eyes snap back and I pause, dabbing at his collarbone. “What’s that?”

He shakes his head, furrowing his brows as if the action took too much effort. “Can’t… swallow. Can’t swallow pills.”

I blink. “You can’t take pills?”

A fleeting smile meets his lips. “Vitamin gummies. Not. Vitamin pills. Might get stuck in m’throat.”

I fold up the cloth into a rectangle and smooth it out onto his forehead. “Just take some tea with it.”

“Tried. No.”

Who knew? For a guy with such a big mouth, he sure has a small esophagus.

“Jean, it’ll make you feel better.”

“No.”

I pop open the box and break open the tinfoil seal to take out a single pill.

“Noo…”

“Jean, you’ll be fine. You’re a big boy now.” And I vow never to speak again.

When I push the little oval against his mouth, I find it won’t open. Jean is breathing laboriously through his 90 percent clogged nostrils.

“Open up.”

He purses his lips, further preventing entry, and I swear he’s smiling a little.

“Very funny. Take your pill. You’re gonna suffocate yourself.”

Still nothing. I pinch his nose. He makes a muffled noise but otherwise doesn’t react.

Ten seconds. Twenty seconds. At thirty-three I let go. “Are you really willing to kill yourself over a pill?”

“Don’t want. Don’t need.”

“Yeah, and I ‘don’t need’ you choking over your own puke in your sleep.”

“No…”

“Jean.” I feel terrible already for doing it like this. “Try. If you don’t at least try, I’ll leave.”

I bite my lip, awaiting his response. I really shouldn’t have said that. I’m such an asshole. Fuck.

“Okay.”

Deep breath. I push the pill against his bottom lip and the soft tissue yields against my fingers for a moment before he opens. The mug is to his lips not a moment after; he gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing, and the tea in his mouth suddenly explodes out and sprays warmly all over my face.

All. Over.

I peel my eyes open after impact. Jean looks more awake than he did before, and with a discernible expression, too: terror.

Okay. Good!

Slowly, he reaches for the sweat-soaked cloth on his head and offers it to me. I shake my head.

“Be right back.”

Bathroom. Cold water. Cold water against my face. There’s two razors on the sink and the edges of the white surface have some hairs on them. Face hairs, I’m sure. I pray.

If whatever Jean has is contagious, I sure as hell have it now.

I turn the tap off and swipe the water from my face. Great. Okay. I bunch up my now-wet sweater. I can do this.

I re-enter the bedroom. Jean sits up a little straighter now, sipping in small increments. “Sorry.”

I put my sweater on the chair. “It’s okay.”

“I— really—”

“Jean, it’s okay.”

“I’m fine. I’ll get better.” Which is about the most complete sentence he’s said in a while.

“I told you I’m not going anywhere, didn’t I?”

He doesn’t say anything. Almost unconsciously, I gravitate to his bed.

“You already did too much for me.”

“Nonsense.”

“Why do… you do this?”

Now that gets me thinking. Because you’re sick. Because I’m a good friend. Because you’re my guinea pig for Hospitality 101. Maybe all three.

My eyes trace back to the scribbled portrait on the other side of Jean’s bed and I take the cloth from his forehead.

Thousands upon thousands of excuses, and a singular truth.

“Because I like you.”

And I take my time going back to the bathroom.

Cold water. Cold water against my hands.

“Coming in.”

“It wasn’t nothing.” Jean clears his throat, almost inaudible against my beating heart. “Back at the party. Wasn’t… nothing.”

“Wasn’t all that much, either,” I say dryly. Hopefully he doesn’t notice how shaky my hands are. How shaky against his pallid skin.

Jean inhales and I can see the movement through his chest. “No. Wasn’t a lot.” He tilts his head up at a minuscule angle to scan my face, and maybe it’s the perspective, or the weird lighting, but I could swear he’s never looked at me like this before.

Except for that time.

“So I’d…” he swallows. “Like— like to have more.”

For a few seconds, it’s silent. For a few seconds, all that there is are his dim eyes and mine. For a few seconds, we fall into each other and tread water, sinking, fading…

I break our gaze and tremblingly pluck a tissue from a box on the ground; hold it to his nose. “Blow.”

He takes a shaky breath and obeys.

Fold. “Again.”

He shuts his eyes and blows.

“Again.”

He blows until his air gives out. I drop the spent tissue.

“Again?”

He shakes his head.

“Let’s try the pill.”

He nods and stares as I open the foil for a second time and pop the new one in my mouth.

He watches, confused, until a wave of realization seems to hit him.

He stays statue-still as I lean in, put a hand on the headboard on either side of his head.

His heat, like a barrier, raises the hairs on my skin. He cups my jaw. I cradle the side of his neck, and his pulse beats at a million miles a minute. The pill begins to dissolve.

Our mouths barely touch, and I make the final connection.

Jean is tall. Jean is arrogant. Jean will laugh at you when you fall.

But Jean has the softest lips, the sweetest mouth (even when he puked out a buffet no more than half an hour ago). Jean will melt like soft butter under your touch. Jean will accept your tongue, no questions asked, and retaliate with twice the vengeance.

Like I’ve been dreaming of since that brief moment at the party, I let my hand run insouciant through his hair. No eyes watching. No social boundary.

He gasps softly for air and I do the same, pulling his scalp so he tilts to meet me better with a small grunt. God, I fucking love his hair.

Now both of his iron-hot hands are on me, hooking under my shirt, running up and down, claiming every square inch, and I let mine fall from his neck down to his slick chest down to his stomach down to his abs. Other still planted firmly in his hair, pulling, twirling, pulling, and when I tug again Jean squeezes so hard, doubling down, suddenly hungry, suddenly a starving man. Wrapping his arms around my back and pulling me closer, I oblige, hooking a leg onto his bed, between his knees, and my thigh brushes against his still-damp T-shirt, and he groans softly into my mouth—

and swallows with an ulp!

and it’s over.

I stroke his throat as the pill goes down and he stares hollowly at me until it’s gone. I recline and smile.

“Is that enough for you?”

Unblinking, he pulls me down again.

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

Connie kicks the asphalt with his definitely real Gucci slides. “Are you done?”

“Shh!”

He shoots his friend a withering look — that is, as withering of a look that he can muster.

“This is creepy. And I’m cold. Can we at least—”

Sasha puts down her binoculars and shows him what a real killer glare is. He rolls his eyes and scans his phone. Eren’s sent a message to the matchmaker groupchat.

emo king🖤⛓️: are u sure this plan of urs worked out

emo king🖤⛓️: excuse me if this is harsh, but it’s probably the dumbest shit of ur dumbshit ideas

me: yeah try telling Sash that

sharmin ultra soft: Eren’s right. Chances are Jean puked and turned everyone off

intimidating woman: i think there’s a chance

emo king🖤⛓️: are u fr in on this mikasa

sashami: you guys shh the star coming

Sasha shoots him another look before putting her non-stalker scope away in preparation for the star of the day’s arrival.

“Whad’d I do?”

As far as he knows, Connie is doing everything right. He’d told everyone that he was sleeping over at Sasha’s. (Her idea.) And now it’s Monday, and it’s time for the star’s (code name) first class (and also Sasha’s), and now they’re sitting out in the cold like a couple of dumbasses watching the stairwell windows. (Also her idea.) What the heck?

“I’m going in the car,” Connie grumbles. He doesn’t wait for the inevitable retort and climbs in to the drivers’ seat.

The car. The one silver lining to this whole ordeal. He’d eaten, put his feet up in, and used up every last drop of gas on this baby and Jean couldn’t do a damned thing about it.

But the person coming through the door isn’t their star. It’s Jean. Huh?

Connie pops out of the vehicle and joins up with Sasha.

“Oh— you’re here, too?” Jean’s brow furrows deeper. “What’s going on?”

“Well, hello to you, too,” Connie grins. “Looks like you‘re doing a lot better.”

“No thanks to you lot.”

“Where are you going?” Sasha pipes in, and he knows what’s coming next. She’s using her interviewer voice.

“Just… going to class.” Jean smacks Connie’s shoulder. “Keys?”

He produces them with a flourish and a jangle and the taller takes them, unlocking the car.

Beep beep!

Sasha casually tails him, twisting around to block the driver’s side door.

“Sash.”

“Were you a good host?”

“I mean, I was really sick.”

“You have actual, proper food, right? Did you feed your dear caretaker?”

“Uh…” he smirks. “Yeah.”

“Is your room clean?”

“It’s fine!”

“Did you sleep together?”

He rolls his eyes and wedges a hand between his car and the girl. “Okay, get out.”

“Answer my question!” Sasha cries as she stumbles back and Jean hops in. Without another word, the car backs out. Jean turns and comes forward so he’s perpendicular to the parking spot before lowering his window.

“Connie! You owe me 20!” And then he’s gone.

Dumbfounded, the boy looks to Sasha, finding her staring at her phone. “What’s wrong? You on your period?”

“Oh, fuck off. Look.”

star: sorry sash,, not coming to hospitality. i got sick :(

star: jeans staying home for me tho. dont wait up <3

And the mastermind screenshots the fruits of her labour.

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

would you look at that. more kissing. *throws tomato* i did 80% of this in one day. no regrets!! (said eren.) (ill shut the fuck up now) i hope you enjoyed! it actually turned out a lot less gross than i originally planned (they were gonna do it with the nyquil ewwwww) but this is fine. right? i never actually kept a pill on my tongue like that for so long so for my sanity's sake let's pretend this is how it all works.

this started out as a oneshot. however,,, i decided to add more parts to it because i'm a sucker. check it out if you like! <3

byebye

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

masterlist part 2 - low tide

#jean kirschtein fanfiction #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein fanfiction #jean kirstein x reader #aot fanfiction #attack on titan x reader #pushable #pushs oneshots

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stealthetrees · 11 months

Text

Okay I’ve snapped.

If you say Percy Jackson is stupid I will find you and make sure you regret it.

I have inattentive type ADHD. I was diagnosed in 4th grade and got put on medication. I did not think there was a difference but I got an award from the school for how much I improved. They didn’t know it was because of meds.

Before I was diagnosed I remember being on the verge of tears often at school because I got so frustrated that I couldn’t do work. I sat at my desk with the pencil in my hand staring at a worksheet physically unable to write the awnser I knew. I would stare at the question and like an optical illusion the rest of the page blurs together and I can’t even make out word anymore.

I thought I was dyslexic for the longest time because some fonts are so difficult for me to read. I could look at a recit, know it says lettuce, and it will not process in my brain. Unless I am a few hours away from a deadline it is nearly impossible to start assignments. Essays are hell.

You know those songs that have an American accent but are completely nonsense? That’s what it sounds like a lot when I listen to people talk. Usally I can grasp the general meaning but I can not tell you what word you just said.

Time is not real. I sit down, scroll through tumblr for maybe 15 minutes and my roommate asks why I’m sitting doing nothing for 4 hours straight. Full days disappear and I can’t remember anything that happened. I have no idea how long it takes me to do something I do almost every day.

I went two weeks at the beginning of the semester with meds that where 10 milligrams lower than my usual dosage. My grades still haven’t recovered.

THAT SAID. In cannon, Percy Jackson passed 13 years of school with high enough grades to be accepted to a university. Not medicated. Without accommodations.

So either the education system in New York is taylored specifically for people with ADHD, or Percy Jackson is a fucking geinios. I can’t spell.

So ignoring the fact that nearly every fight he won by outsmarting his opponent, let me tell you why.

In the books, he’s an introvert, sits in the back, tries to keep his head down but usually fails, gets detention often, and has been expelled multiple times. That’s not the kind of kid teachers go out of their way to help. He’s also unlikely to ask for help. So, despite his struggles in the classroom, he has never been held back or had to redo a grade as far as we know. And it’s pretty likely considering his age.

Add in the fact that he would be constantly sleep deprived from staying up very late (like from 10-3, based off my experience) and his dyslexia, Percy would need to be really good at retaining information after hearing or seeing it only once. That’s actually supported by his ability to memorize prophecies word for word after only hearing them once. We know Percy is bad at taking tests, so he would have to be really good at recalling information.

He also did it all unmedicated. I want to cry just thinking about it.

tldr, the fact that Percy’s grades where high enough to get into college means hes fucking brilliant

#percyjackson #percy jackson #pjo #adhd #living with adhd #Percy Jackson adhd #adhd brain #school is hard #especially in an environment built to torture you #adhd problems #adhd post #adhd Percy Jackson

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lillylvjy · 8 months

Text

If I’m so special (why am I secret)

notes; hello hello! So the title has nothing to do with the actual fic I just really like the lyric! But you can correlate it if you want! This is long awaited, I have like two more fics for him in the works so! Enjoy!

warnings; hurt/comfort, angst, arguments, stupid old men, age gap, student x teacher relationship, forbidden love, sexual activities hinted at but in forms of rumors, Wilbur and reader being so down bad for each other it hurts, kissing, so much fluff at the end! If I missed anything please tell me!

edited;…. Yeah no!

wc; 1.8k

who; professor!Wilbur x gn!reader

He was ineffable.

A ball of sunshine that you could look at forever and not care if you went blind. A song that you could listen to over and over again and not go insane from it. A book you could read and find a way to connect everything to it.

He was… your every waking thought. And you knew what you were doing wasn’t right, you both knew. But you didn’t care, at least you didn’t. Wilbur was hesitant about it, you knew he wanted this but you also knew that he was going against everything he knew and you understood that but you weren’t going to let him sit there and let stupid rules decide what he gets to do with life.

The board had started to become suspicious of you two. How you would always stay later than wanted in his office. Sometimes come in at late times in the night to check up on him, yet to come out with him and get in his car. Coming in to the campus together. The longing stares and quick glances to each other whenever you were in the same room.

People became curious and other professors started watching. Closely. Too closely. And once they gathered enough information to use against you both, they told the school board. And the school board pulled you out of class just to bring you into a room with Wilbur and the head of the school board. After that annoyingly long interrogation of trying to get you and Wil to talk, maybe confess about something, Wil said:

“Sir, I would never do anything with my students. Yes I am friendly and kind to them, offering them other times they can come in, but nothing more. All of this, evidence, shows nothing more than me being a good professor. I am not sleeping with them, I do not involve myself with them at all besides them being my student. My job means more than anything else could.”

That’s what led you here. In his office at the school, far later than what after school hours pushed, fighting for the two of you.

If he wouldn’t, you would.

“Wil listen me, this isn’t fair! To me or to you. You can’t just give up on this that quickly.” You argued as you followed him around his office, wanting to get your point a crossed.

“Darling, you know we can’t. You are my student, and I am your teacher. You can’t have romantic relations, it’s just how it had to be-“

“Oh stop with that bullshit! It doesn’t have to be like that, if we just explain-“

“Explain? To who? The school board?! They aren’t gonna listen! They’ll look at us like we’re crazy, expel you from this school and fire me. I don’t care about me in this situation, I care about you. Don’t think I’m doing this for my own benefit.” Wil said, tone harsh and words that hurt a bit. You shook your head as you rubbed your hands up and down your face, rubbing the tears that perked in your eyes away.

“It’s worth a try! You can’t just let rules dictate and control what your life gets to be. They don’t control what you do and who you can be with! You aren’t doing anything bad-“

“In their eyes I am! They think I’m just fucking my student for my own pleasure and benefit! They don’t care about the whole story, they only care about the fact that I’m a teacher and you’re a student. Why are you trying to push this-“

“Because I love you!” You yelled out, turning back around to face him, letting the tears fall now. Your lip quivered as he looked at you with wide eyes at the sudden burst of emotion. “I love you and I actually have the fucking guts to fight for this! I don’t care what happens as long as I end up with you, that’s all that matters to me Wil. And if that’s not the case for you either then, tell me! Tell me everything you said in that meeting was true, and you meant every single bit of it. Just, tell me so I can stop looking like a fool and stop fighting for something only I want. Please….” Your voice slowly breaks as sobs start coming out and tears flow down your cheeks with ease, each one hot and leaving a stain on your face. You didn’t try to wipe them away, you let them fall, letting him see what he was doing to you. Not so he would change his mind and feel bad, no, because you knew he wanted this just as much as you, he was just fighting it. Every single bit of it.

Wilbur ran a hand over his face as he shook his head. He couldn’t deny it, both of you knew he couldn’t. He wanted you. He always has, ever since you stepped foot into his classroom. He remembers that day so clearly.

You were running late as you usually were, never being prepared enough to wake up at 8 in the morning just for his class. Your shoes were half tied and your overalls not done all the way over your yellow shirt. You rushed through the door right before he was going to close it, quietly apologizing for your late arrival as you rushed up the steps and found your seat in the back corner.

He didn’t say anything, he never did when you were late. But the first time, he couldn’t have said anything. You captivated him, in so many ways. Yes you may have looked ridiculous, but absolutely stunning nonetheless.

After that day, he looked at you different. Differently than a teacher should look at someone who’s just a student. You could say he fell first and you fell harder, but you both fell as hard as you could for each other, loving one another with every bone and being you had. So no, Wilbur wasn’t going to say he meant all that bullshit he said, he fucking hated himself for saying it anyways.

“No. I didn’t mean anything I said in that meeting. I want to fight for this, I want to fight for you so badly-“

“Then why don’t you, Wil?”

“Because I care about you! I care about you getting your degree, you becoming the person you deserve to be, and that can’t be with me. I’ve accepted that. I don’t care about me, I don’t care if I get fired and I have no where else to go. I just care what you get what you deserve, and what you deserve is to graduate and grow up into a wonderful adult and marry someone worth being with-“

“No Wil, please. I just want you, I don’t care about me either. I just want you. I’m only in college for my parents, I didn’t even want to go to college! You know this. I want to marry you and be with you and grow old with you! I don’t care what happens because stupid, cranky old men don’t like the thought of a teacher and a student being together. You haven’t done anything to me I haven’t agreed with, and I started this first, we both know I did. And I will push that as fair as I can so I get expelled and you can stay. I just want to be with you.” You said as Wil slowly came up to you, tears slowly flowing down your face still. Placing his hand on the back of your head gently, Wilbur pulled you into his chest with your head resting just below his chin, and wrapped his arms around your neck. Your own wrapped around his waist and your grip on him was tight enough to Jill someone if wanted, yet Wil showed no sign of discomfort.

He kissed your head as he rested his head on your own. “I want you. I need you darling. I’m just scared, I’ve never felt like this for someone before, let alone someone that’s my student. I don’t care about what happens either, I’m just.. I’m tired of fighting for things I want. And I’m anxious what will happen after things get out and I do get fired I guess. You may have started this but I indulged in it, so we both have the blame. You don’t have to push anything, if you can’t stay then I can’t. I love you more than anything and if they can’t handle that then screw them.” Wilbur lifted his head from yours as you looked up at him with a soft smile, tears slowly stopping leaving your eyes red and puffy.

“You think too much sometimes.” Was the first thing that came out of your mouth, throat hoarse and in need of a clearing as you spoke.

Wil laughed and nodded at the statement, not arguing about that statement at all. Slowly bringing his face down to yours, he softly kissed the outer corners of your eyes, somehow easing the puffiness and soreness from your previous appearance. Pulling back, he takes your chin in his hand and pulls your face up to his a bit more, placing a soft kiss onto your chapped lips with a soft smile.

Pulling back, he giggled lightly a your wide grin and practical heart shaped eyes as you looked at him, his eyes reciprocating them. “Let’s get out of here yeah? We’ll talk about what to do later, for now we can just go to mine and order take out while we watch shitty indie movies, like always.”

“Can we actually watch Disney movies tonight? I have a few in mind…” you asked as you let go of the tall man in front of you. He walked over to his desk, grabbing his bag and coat, slinging them over his arm and back as he went back over to you and grabbed your hand in his. Exiting his office, he shut the lights off and locked the door as he dragged you to his car, knowing you didn’t have your own.

“Anything you want darling, whatever makes you happy I’m absolutely fine with.” He said with a smile as you finally stepped out of that suffocating school and into the open air of the parking lot.

“Hmm that and I’m changing into your clothes once we’re there, need to feel engulfed by you.”

“I’m right here!”

“Yeah but, it’s like extra happiness! More of you!”

“You just like stealing my clothes.”

“Hmm yeah pretty much…” Wilbur scoffed as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you against him, finally not caring if anyone saw you two. He knew in the end it’d be ok, because he has you.

taglist; @mysticalsoot @phxntomsdusk @ivvees-blog (if anyone wants to be added feel free to send an ask or dm!)

#lilly writes #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #professor!wilbur #teacher x student #wilbur x reader #x reader #professor!wilbur soot #idk what else to add #yay!

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bluesest · 13 days

Text

A Wedding

Damian was a young adult of 27 years old and one of the most important moments of his life had arrived: his wedding with Melissa, she was the same age and they had been in a relationship for at least 9 years. Without any difficulty and with a lot of love in between, they decided to take the next big step in anyone's life, which is to marry the love of their life.

As usual, the night before a wedding a bachelor party is held for both people, in the case of Damian, he along with his friends and his father went to a hot wing restaurant where, in addition to filling up with kilos of wings full of sauce, they also got drunk until dawn enjoying the comforts and activities that Damian had to say goodbye to when he got engaged.

Frank was a 48-year-old man, tall, bearded, with big arms and a brewer's gut, he always has a positive mind and is stern when the moment requires it, he was the one who gave the idea of going to eat hot wings since it is the food that he and his son enjoyed throughout their lives and it would be a great tribute to the maturity of his son who eventually became a man.

At 2:00 AM they arrived home, both dizzy and tired, Frank wanted to stay a while longer at the party, but Damian refused, after all he had to wake up early tomorrow so that everything would be perfect.

Frank fell directly to the sofa, his body was already weak due to his age, while Damian was walking directly to the guest room, a couple of years ago he stopped living with his parents and moved in with his partner.

Before reaching the room, a strange sound invaded the small room: *GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*, it was Damian's annoying stomach, so many wings and beer didn't sit very well with him, he turned around to check if his father was still awake, and apparently not, he closed his eyes and... *PPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTT* *PRRRRRRRRRRRR*

He gave a groan of satisfaction and a hoarse voice interrupted him: "That was a good one," it was his father who was laughing with the little strength he had left.

Damian: "Dad!"

Frank: "What's the problem?"

Damian: "It's just that..."

Frank: "Don't be embarrassed about that son, my daughter-in-law must get used to the smell of a real man like me" *PFFFFFFTTTTTT*

Damian: "Whatever... *GRRRRRRR* I hope I don't have problems with this tomorrow..."

The Next Morning:

*RIIIIIIINGGGGG* *RIIIIIIINGGGGG*

Damian woke up to the noise of the alarm, with his eyes half-closed he saw what his downfall was: "It's the... 1:00 PM!?", our fiancé set the wrong alarm, apparently, getting drunk a day before your wedding was not a good idea.

He jumped out of bed and suddenly his stomach took a hard hit: *GRRRRRRRRRRRRR*, he lowered his head a little, held his stomach with his right hand and expelled a rotten fart: *PRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *TRTRTRTRTRTR*

There was hell inside Damian's intestine, but without much time to think about it he took off his clothes and started running naked around the house looking for his tuxedo. While all this was going on, Damián found his father still asleep on the sofa, alarmed and knowing his father he began to shake him again and again until the forty-year-old woke up from his long sleep.

Frank: "What *YAWN* happens?"

Damian: "IT'S GETTING LATE! THERE ARE 2 HOURS LEFT AND WE ARE NOT READY!"

Frank: "WE FELL ASLEEP!?"

Like his son, Frank got up and started running to his room shared with his spouse, who apparently had already left for the event without even telling her spouse or son.

As Frank ran, a flurry of farts came out of his big ass: *PFFFFFFTTTTTTT* *PPPPPPPPFFFFTTTTTTTT* *PRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

He stopped for a few moments and held his stomach with both hands, turned to his son and said: "Do you think there is time to go to the bathroom?" to which he replied: "What part of the fact that there is no time you didn't understand!?", resigned, he continued with the search for his elegant clothes.

Almost an hour had passed and our boys were already ready to arrive at the wedding, Frank offered to drive to prevent his son from getting more stressed than he already was, he tried to talk to him, but he was curt, but the reason for this was not because he was angry, but because of a growing pain in his stomach.

*GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

Frank: "Are you okay son?"

Damian: "My stomach hurts a little..."

Frank: "If you want, we can stop in the bathroom of a gas station"

Damian: "Don't worry, I'm fine"

*GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

Another fart was approaching, but he didn't want to fart in front of his father, he tried to lower the window without success.

Frank: "Don't even try, the windows have not worked for a week now"

Damian: "But I'm hot! ughhh"

*GRRRRRRRRRR* *PFFFFFFFFFFFTTTT*

The silence was destroyed by an accidental thunderous fart by Damian, he was embarrassed but his father began to laugh.

Damian: "Shut up..."

Frank: "HAHAHAHA that's why you wanted to lower the window, right?"

Damian: "..."

Frank: "Oh come on, admit it was fun"

Damian: "... Well yes, it was fun I guess haha"

Frank: "It's good that we have the same problem...*PRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *PFTTFTTFTFFFFFFFFFF*"

Damian hit his father while they were both laughing, what was previously an awkward situation, became another father and son experience.

Damian: "This car has a hellish smell HAHAHAHA"

Frank: "Of course he does! The smell is something characteristic of the Johnsons"

Damian: "It reminds me of the time I was farting all day while I was out with my friends, they always complained and I just laughed HAHAHAHAHA"

Frank: "See? It wasn't so bad, son."

Damian: "Although I feel that something else wants to come out..."

Frank: "Same thing, I think so much junk food hurt us both... Do you want me to stop and let's find a bathroom?"

Damian: "Of course not! We are already late"

Frank: "But-"

Damian: "In addition, where the wedding will take place there is a public bathroom, we can go there when all this is over"

After 30 minutes of farting in the car, they finally arrived at the wedding just 30 minutes before it started, Damian went to prepare to receive his future spouse while his father is scolded by his.

Damian went to a small room where his friends were waiting for him to greet him and give him support in this important moment, he was in front of a mirror trying to fix the ruined tie that he untied on the trip.

That's when he saw his own pale face and with small drops of sweat a sign of his discomfort, he thought: "Maybe going to the bathroom is a good idea..." He approached the door of the small bathroom that was in that room when one of his friends stopped him.

Damian feigning nonchalance asked if something was wrong, to which his friend replied: "Hey! there are only 10 minutes left, you must wait for your wife at the altar", Damian turned to his watch and indeed it was not a joke in bad taste, he returned to the mirror, fixed his hairstyle and went straight to the altar.

Meanwhile, his father didn't seem to enjoy the wait, inside his stomach there was a raging storm of gases and lava wanting to come out, he thought: "I don't think Damian will be upset if I miss the first minutes of his wedding..." he got up from his seat when his spouse and Damian's mother held his arm saying not to be rude and that he shouldn't get up from his seat at a time like that.

Frank: "Honey, I know this is important, but I need to go to the bathroom right now."

Again his request was denied and he was forced to wait until the bride and groom's kiss to be able to get up.

*GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

A thunderous stomach roar made Frank lose his patience, he crossed his legs tightly to prevent the smell he was about to release from spreading among the guests.

*PFFFFTTTT* *SQSHHHH*

It was a bad idea... Frank felt how that terrible fart turned into liquid, the lava began to stain his buttocks and his special cloth pants, he couldn't take it anymore, he decided to get up, but...

Finally, the wedding had begun, Damian was standing at the altar watching as the love of his life with a wide smile went towards him to be together, these thoughts are increasingly interrupted by the terrible stomach pain and the gurgling that did not leave him in peace since the morning.

Finally she arrived and the priest began the wedding.

As the priest spoke, Frank searched for a solution to his problem, "How the was I going to go to the bathroom now? Where was I going to get extra inner break?", the smell was becoming more and more noticeable and reached his nose, "Ufff, I really have to go to the bathroom to release this shit"

He discreetly began to fan his butt to prevent the smell from concentrating while applying pressure to the chair in order to prevent the smell from leaving his butt with the price to pay that it muddied his buttocks and pants more.

*GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

His stomach asked to release pressure again, in fear he let out another fart carefully: *PFFFFFTTTTTT*

It was a short one for what Frank was used to, but he couldn't afford to have his pants turned into an adult diaper completely filled with sulfuric acid.

His son was not doing any better, as soon as the priest was halfway through his speech, he was sweating more and more and unlike his father he could not even release a fart since the smell would be noticed immediately, so every time someone tried to leave he squeezed his buttocks and forced the putrid air to return through the large intestine, a practice that would become expensive later.

Priest: "They can say their wedding vows"

There was some good and something bad, the good thing is that it meant that the main event was close to ending, the bad thing was that his voice was shaky from the efforts he was making not to his pants, like the future spouse, he had to start first.

His vow was not really long, he managed to materialize his feelings in words being part of a long relationship, he made a great effort to stop stuttering and sweating, but they were simply in vain.

After an embarrassing moment and a confused look from his spouse, it was her turn to say her vows, and although it was inopportune to think about it, he just wanted it to be over soon and for his spouse not to talk too much.

After another 10 agonizing minutes, the priest finally said the magic words: "He can kiss the bride."

Damian could not believe that just at the most important moment of his life he had an attack of diarrhea, but simply this cruel moment of life would come to an end when the lips of the bride and groom finally crossed.

It was a beautiful moment for both of them and caused Damian to forget for a few seconds the fact that he had to shit, but it was that calm that caused another stomach attack:

*GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

Both moved their heads aside while the audience applauded, the party would continue for a couple of more hours, so before receiving the congratulations of the guests, he excused himself to his now spouse and surreptitiously moved through the audience to reach the bathroom being interrupted several times by his relatives.

Frank saw his son noticeably nervous and uncomfortable trying to make his way through the audience, he got up from his seat with the excuse that he was going to congratulate his son.

When he got up from his seat he felt like a small avalanche of thick shit slipped from his butt and was slowly heading to his legs, Frank had to be fast with his movement since in a few minutes his shit would reach his legs staining his pants until it reached his beautiful black shoes, he just couldn't afford it.

He jogged to pretend that he was not running, he saw his son in the distance entering the bathroom not at all far from the wedding, he was even more alarmed when small wet farts came out of his butt like gusts *PRRR* *PRRR* *PRRR* *PRRR* *PRRR*, apparently the exercise relaxed his stomach even more.

He arrived at the bathroom in time to see how his son was on a loose leash about to enter the last cubicle, father and son exchanged looks a little embarrassed...

*PFFFFFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFT*

A violent fart came out of Damian's butt reminding him that he came to the bathroom for a reason, he held his stomach, forcefully opened the cubicle door and closed it, Frank did the same in a slightly calmer way even though he could feel how his shit was reaching his knee.

Both butts touched the porcelain at the same time, but there were no farts in between, Damian despite having passed with his father farting in the car was quite embarrassed, he wanted his father to get out of there.

*PFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTT* *PRRRRR* *SQHQSHQSSQHHHHHHHSHSHHH*

Frank began by expelling what fucked him up throughout the day, a gurgling sound could be heard throughout the bathroom while he continued to shit.

*QSHQSHQSHSQHSSSQHSSSQHHHSHS* *PFFFTFTFTTF* *TRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRRRRR* *SHQHSQHHSQSHQQSHQSHSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQ* *PFFFTTT*

"Ahhh finally..." Frank was able to catch his breath and refresh his mind, although there was still cargo to be dropped... *GRRRRRRRRRR* another gurgle appeared from the neighboring cubicle, Frank could remember that he was not alone.

Damian is writhing in pain, in that position his stomach was more relaxed and therefore more sore and tired from the effort it is taking him to keep all the shit in place until his father leaves the place.

"Why is this happening to me?" he said to himself, for him it was unfair, he had a whole life to spend an embarrassing moment like this, but it should just be at his wedding with his father.

*GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

Frank: "Is everything fine in there?"

Damian: "Yes dad..."

*SHHHHHHHHHH* *PRRRRRRRRRR* *PFFFFTTFTFTF* *TRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTR* *PSSSSHHHHHRRRTRTRTRTRTRT* *SQHSSHSQQQPR*

Frank: "ughh how good it feels to release everything..."

*GRRRRRRRRRRR*

Frank: "Son, it's obvious that you need to free yourself too, why don't you?"

Damian: "And that's what I do!" *GRRRRRRR*

Frank: "I was expecting something louder than those gurgling sounds you have..."

Damian: "Just not..."

Frank: "oh come on, we've spent a lot of time together, it's a natural thing"

Damian: "I..."

Frank: "Everybody's waiting for us out there, and I wouldn't want them to come in here..."

*GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

Damian: "ugghhhhhh"

*GRRRRRRR* *PFFFFTTTTT* *SQGSQGSSHHHH*

Frank: "Well done, let me teach you"

*PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *QHSHQSHSQHQSSSHHHHHHHHH* *TRRTRTRTR* *TRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *PLOP* *PLOP* *PFTFTFTFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT* *PLOP*

Damian: "Hahahahaha oh come on"

*PRRRR* *HQSHQSHQSHSHQSHQSHSQSHSQHQSQHQS* *BLLLRRRRRRRRR* *PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTT* *TRTRTRTRTR* *SSSSSHHHHHHHHHH*

Frank: "I feel like the wings are forcing me to open my butt even wider"

*SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHH* *PRPRPRPRPRPRPRPR* *PFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTF* *PFFFFFTTTTTTT* *TRUM* *CRUSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH* *PFFFFTTTTT*

Damian: "Those beers are charging me very dearly"

*PFFFFFTTTTT* *PLOP* *PLOP* *PLOP* *TTTTRRRTTTTTTTTTTTTTTRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *SQHSQHSHSQSHHHHHHHHH* *FFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT*

Frank: "And with taxes"

*PLOP* *SQSHHHHHHHHSQHHHHHHHHSHHHHHQQQHSHSSH* *TRTRTRTRTPRRRRRRRRR* *SSSSSSSSSSSRRRRRRR* *TRRRRRRRRUMMMMTRRRRRUUMMMM* *PLOP*

Damian: "hahahaha I think I'm done"

Frank: "Not me yet, I shit on my underpants and in this cubicle there isn't even toilet paper"

Damian: "Take this roll dad, clean yourself first"

Frank: "But you must get out of here, everyone out there is waiting for you."

Damian: "I don't want to celebrate my wedding without my father present"

#diarrhea #farts #coprophilia #desesperation #wedding #accident #Father

22 notes · View notes

samcatcher · 3 months

Text

When in London.

Chapter 7. Masterpost.

By the time I woke up after tossing and turning, it had already gone past 10. I assumed Jean never came, as I checked my phone to see no messages, or calls. I stayed still in the position I was in. Unmoving. I decided today was going to be another day where I bitterly settle in.

Defeated, I just closed my eyes. Then suddenly I felt a pair of arms pull me close and smell my hair, then kiss my head. The smell was familiar, like the smell of home, the smell of me. The hands were cold and something I was used to. I wasn't confused.

"You came." I whispered in French, relief in my voice.

I turned to his face, his familiar face. His big blue eyes and dark, clear skin looking back at me. A smile on his face. It was as if he never left me. Suddenly everything wasn't unfamiliar. Suddenly everything wasn't scary. Suddenly we were in it together again.

For the sake of my storytelling, I'll translate our conversation.

"I didn't think you would come." I said to him, furrowing my eyebrows and completely showing my known weakness to him. His expression changed.

-There's nothing I can excuse, I am sorry baby, sorry for the past few days.- He pressed his forehead against mine, and I slowly nodded. He closed his eyes and breathed into me again. I felt his stubble as he kissed my cheek over and over. The repetition made me giggle.

I just looked at him. That was all he needed. I brought my thoughts down to my eyes and my eyebrows and I changed my expression to how I felt. I widened my eyes and furrowed my eyebrows. I let out a sigh as I turned my head to the left. Then I curled my lips into a forgiving, warm smile. One he had seen before. Then, I reached my hand up to his face and kissed his lips. Moving my thoughts from my face to his. That's when he got everything I needed to say.

"I am happy to be in your arms, relieved." Jean expelled slowly and quietly, so I grasped the emotion and rawness. However, I already knew this by the way he cupped my chin and kissed me three times on the cheek earlier.

It was relieving for sure. A familiarity was in my arms after days of being in a place so unknown. He wasn't being forgiven that easily though. I wasn't the type of person to hold grudges or get upset often anymore, so the fact that he made me get stuck in a rut showed a lot about his true colors. Which I had never seen in the two years we were together. It was scary but something love made me forget. Seeing his face so close to mine and hearing his words made me forget. That's what it's like loving Jean. You just forget.

After a few seconds of embracing each other. Feeling eachother once again, I lifted my head and asked;

"Who let you in?"

"Amelia." He answered, confused.

"Who else would have let me in?" He asked following his answer, laughing.

From that I assumed that Danny and Sam weren't home. I felt a shred of relief, I didn't want Jean to be bombarded with two men as soon as he came here, I would rather have told him about them before he met them. I was planning on it. I was.

We stayed in bed for another hour and a half. brining us to 11:30. then came to the decision that we needed to get up and do something, he would only be here for the weekend, he was leaving late Sunday night.

We decided on going to a nice restaurant, then maybe taking a detour to a nice pub. I was very excited. Although my furniture was supposed to come today at 3 so we couldn't go out until later.

A couple of hours went by of us eating and talking. Jean and Amelia tried their best to communicate but it was kind of awkward with the language barrier. At around 2:30 Jean and I prepared to greet the van and haul in all of my stuff, we moved the suitcase into another room and I put my hair up and got changed. With a high five and a nod, we opened the door to the moving company.

"Lyla Darius?" The man at the door said, standing with a clipboard and a high-vis jacket.

I nodded and looked out to the van.

"We can 'elp ya bring it all in for twenty quid more, or we can leave the van 'ere for an 'our and come back when you're all done, love." He turned around to look in the van, a colleague stepped out and started walking towards us, although he was on the phone.

This man had a higher pitched voice, but still the same cockney accent. "Darlin' I looked in the van and there ain't that much stuff in there, so uh, I think we could bring it down to 15 quid, for a beautiful girl like you." The colleague said and looked me up and down.

"I think that would be really helpful, let me just check if I've got 15 pounds cash." My wallet was in my coat beside the door. Low and behold I had 30 pounds in there, so I gave them all of it.

"Cheers. Won't ask ya for a cuppa now." He chuckled and smiled big, revealing a gold tooth.

"START LOADIN' IT IN DARREN!" He shouted at his colleague, who shot a thumbs up and started pulling the first box out of the van.

"What should I do?" I said to him, and he just shook his head.

"Sit down and relax, that's what ya gonna do! We'll sort this out for ya sweet'art. Don't worry yaself." He nodded and started stumbling down to the van.

I did what he said and went upstairs, I decided to make the men a cup of tea anyway. My friend from London said you always have to, no matter what.

I was lost in thought, making the tea for the moving men, scared that I wasn't doing it quite right, I had never made tea for two cockney men before. I was pulled out of my concentration when I heard Sam coming through the front door, so I started making my way down there.

Sam was standing at the door, his hair in a bun and a pair of shorts on. He had a white band tee that was cut into a tank top, and a pair of thin, cheap flip flops.

"Do you need any help with this?" Sam asked, bluntly.

"No thanks, they're doing it all for me actually" I laughed.

He nodded and walked into the living room.

I went back upstairs to see Jean directing the men where to put things in my room. Seeing all of the boxes seemed to be making him emotional, so he looked at me with a half smile.

I went behind him and pulled him into an embrace, as my cheek rested against his back, he held my hands with his for a moment. He nodded finally, and I let go, moving myself out of the way as the movers were heaving my beautiful vintage dresser into my room.

-Just a couple more boxes now love, and thanks for the cuppa.- Jean must have finished off the tea I was making before I got distracted by Sam coming.

I watched with a smile as the moving men dropped off the last few of my boxes. I thanked them, and they left. Before I went upstairs I checked on Sam, he was fast asleep in the sofa bed he still hadn't put away since the first night. I laughed and shut the living room door, to not disturb his peace and to not reek havoc on Jean. Everything was going so nice.

My excitement continued to build as I walked into my room. I had waited so long for all of my beautiful things to come, and I couldn't wait to show Sam everything compared to the walls he painted for me.

The first thing I did was move some of the boxes into the kitchen momentarily, to focus on the larger appendages in my room. Jean helped heave the boxes around the kitchen while I stood and tried to figure out the perfect orientation.

I moved the double bed underneath the window with the view of the beautiful garden, it came out from the window and the end of my bed was dead center in the middle of the room. I had a small ottoman which I placed at the end of my bed.

I moved the dresser against the wall which held the balcony door, and placed a mirror on top of it. There was one empty wall west to my bedroom door, there I decided to hang my big beautiful painting I had bought in Michigan when I was sixteen. It was the bodice of a woman in a bathtub, facing away from the looker, she had her hair in a bun, she looked a little like Sam.

Finally, from the west wall to my bed there was about 3 feet of space. I put my bedside table there next to my bed and a bohemian style rug, creating a kind of viewing area for my painting.

I called in Jean for his opinion, and he suggested we move the ottoman underneath the painting so we can put candles there to light the painting in the dark. I loved his idea so I did it, and I placed all of the candles I had brought on the ottoman.

It didn't feel like my room until I opened the boxes containing my plants. Sam was right, they contrasted perfectly with the peachy shade of my walls. I scattered them all over the place.

I unpacked the final boxes of small decorations, lamps, and clothes, then I collapsed on my bed after about an hour of hard work. Jean walked in from smoking on the balcony and a toothy smile formed on his face. He looked around at everything and then finally looked at me. He just nodded, but it was his 'its perfect' nod.

I was still leaning on the bed, staring at everything. Jean walked fully into my room and closed the door behind him. We both smiled.

He immediately climbed onto my bed, kissing me softly yet for a long time, emotionally. He did anything but use his words. He moved his hand from my face down to my waist, down to the back of my thigh. Then he stopped kissing my lips and moved to my neck, licking and sucking a sweet spot on my collar bone he had identified months before. I arched slightly and a small whimper escaped me. He moved his hand now from my thigh to up my dress, giving me chills as his cold hand reached all of the sensitive parts of my body he knew so well.

His other hand was supporting his weight over me, yet suddenly it scooped under me and pulled me over, switching me to be on top of his large body. I arched my back as I moved my face to his, kissing his lips as he moved his hands over my ass softly, he then grasped one cheek hard, which made me whimper again. He tasted like smoke, he tasted like France.

He sat up while I was still on him, making us form a cradling position. He had both hands on my ass, but suddenly moved one up to the back of my neck, he slowly applied pressure and created a small choking sensation which he knew I loved. He continued kissing me, it went from tender to sloppy, he was getting impatient. He pulled down the top of my summer dress which revealed me, I had no bra which he smiled at, then he began licking and sucking on my nipples, just the way I liked. I was growing impatient too. So just as I was about to shift my weight to allow him to reveal himself, there was a knock on the door which made me stop in my tracks.

Jean was getting impatient so he just rolled his eyes and tried to resume where we were going, but the door opened, without any confirmation of entering.

My back was towards the door, but judging by the silence, and a very confused Jean, I know who had opened it. I quickly pulled up my sundress without looking back. After a few seconds of all three of us frozen completely, Sam just closed the door, swearing something under his breath.

Jean looked at me, confusion still plastered all over his face. Then there was me, desperately trying to play it cool. I climbed off of him and sat next to him in the bed, his eys still holding the same expression. I'll translate the converstation.

"Who the fucks that?" Jean simply questioned, I could see his tongue moving along his cheek.

"That's um, he..." Jean cut me off.

"And why is he coming into your room unannounced in nothing but his shorts and a guitar?" Jean added.

My stomach dropped. I couldn't find anything to say. I stammered over my words trying to find an excuse, a reason, a lie? It was too late though, Jean was already standing up and getting his cigarettes. He was going to go missing. He did that all the time when he wanted attention. He liked it when people went looking for him.

He left the room and a couple seconds later I heard the front door slam closed. I didn't know where he was going to go but I knew soon I'd have to call and text. Then eventually go out there in my sundress and slippers and look for him. He won't have gone far.

But for now I sat on the bed with my knees up, bummed. Then I heard a knock again.

"come in." I said. Monotone.

Sam came in cautiously.

"I'm so sorry Lyla, I should have waited for confirmation to come in. I promise I'll be more careful next time." Sam said, worry filled him. His eyes were filled with shock and he was playing with a strand of his hair.

"It's fine sam." I said with a laugh. "you didn't see anything too gory anyway."

"Who's that guy?" Sam said, still with caution in his voice. Slightly stuttering.

I just stared for a while. Something inside me didn't want Sam to know that Jean was my boyfriend. Something told me that it was going to go wrong.

"That's Jean." I said with a smile.

"He an old friend?" Sam asked, he was not making it easy for me.

I laughed awkwardly.

"He's my boyfriend."

As I said that Sam's eyes darted up at me, filled with shock. Then they traveled down to the floor, and his hand moved to his lip. I didn't ask if he was okay, I knew he wasn't.

"Oh, that's cool." Sam said, still staring at the floor.

"He's a cunt most of the time." I said, tilting my head to the side and playfully smiling.

Sam just laughed a little and got up, he shot me a small wave then made his way out of the room.

Jean didn't come back that night until 11pm. I called, no answer. I texted, no answer. I went out there, no answer. I was shocked by the absolute immaturity, so naturally, I ignored him all night.

At around 3 in the morning I heard the front door open. Jean was sound asleep beside me so I decided to climb out of bed and see who it was.

I crept down the corridor in Jean's shirt and my slippers. It was very dark but suddenly I heard the living room light switch. I crept down the stairs and entered the living room slowly. Before my eyes was Sam, stumbling onto the sofa bed. He looked very disoriented.

"Sam?" I whispered.

"Well... look who it is." He stammered and scoffed.

I walked further into the living room to see him struggling to find something to crash in, I went into his suitcase and found a pair of boxers and a shirt. He snatched it off of me. Denying my help even though he was completely incapacitated.

"Come on dude, why are you so drunk?" I asked. "Angry drunk." I added.

He looked at me with disgust.

"Lyla. The girl. The girl that I've been looking for since I was in my teenagers years. She's married with kids." He said slurring his words.

I laughed. "Must be a different Lyla. I don't have kids. And just between you and me... if Jean proposed I would say no." I whispered in a slight spat, trying to calm the situation and make a joke out of it.

"What do you find funnier Lyla? The fact that you never told me about him after letting me get in bed with you. Meet my brothers. Play you my songs. Or the fact that you're still fucking him when such a better man for you is standing right here? I'd be open to fucking you even if he was in the house. He looks like a jerk." He started walking towards me with his arms stretched out. Then stopped and plopped himself on the sofa. (Danny was on the bed tonight.)

"And I'd be glad if he caught us." He added. Making himself laugh and staring at the ceiling.

"Sam, I don't know why you're upset." I said, lying. I knew exactly why.

"What makes you think I'm upset?" He said, knowing he was upset.

"Who randomly gets drunk on their own if they're not upset about something. This drunk too" I rebutted. Sam didn't reply.

We stared at each other for a few moments, then Sam looked away and shook his head.

"From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew I would never let you get away. But look, I'm too late. I don't even want to know how late I am." He stayed shaking his head as he vented.

"You are the most beautiful girl I have ever met Lyla. The face I would never forget. You have been in my dreams for 7 years and now you've just embarrassed me. Fuck you." He continued. I stood there dumbfounded.

"How have I embarrassed you? Was I supposed to live my life waiting for you? Like a knight in shining armor? Don't be pathetic Sam, it's your fault you want me so bad. Get over yourself. For your information because I know you definitely do want to know. It's two years. You're two years late."

As soon as the words escaped my mouth I felt bad. But I'm never going to allow someone to accuse me of something like embarrassing them, especially when they have only embarrassed themselves.

He stared at me for a few moments more, still shaking his head.

"I didn't want it to be like this Lyla. It wasn't supposed to go like this." Sam shouted, making Danny open his eyes.

"I didn't want it to be like this either." I said, staring at Danny's half asleep expression to avoid Sam's eyes.

"I didn't want it to be anything." I said, lying.

"So what's funnier Lyla?" Sam asked again.

I stormed back upstairs and got into bed. Both men were angry with me. I was normally a person that would stand up for themself, but I was just so tired.

Jean stirred beside me, I gave into his arms outstretched to grab me. I figured that Jean was my main priority right now. Sam was just some boy who liked me, me and Jean were serious.

chapter 8.

6 notes · View notes

braveclementine · 5 months

Text

Chapter 2

Warnings: None, Readers under 18 can read this book. It is solely fluff- nothing sexual

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

.💙💙💙.

𝕴 𝖜𝖆𝖎𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖆 few days for Harry to actually blow up his aunt. I passed the time easily. I hung up Fred's painting in my bedroom above my bed. Regardless of my feelings, it was a great piece of art and I could fully appreciate it. Next, I worked on rigging up a little stand in my bedroom so Hedwig would have somewhere to sleep.

I read Ron's book first. There was fascinating subject material, just as he'd said there would be. I read the Monster book of Monsters next which was just as easily fascinating, if not more because I loved magical creatures. Hedwig and Sadie swooped in and out of my room easily. I think they were competing about how many mice they could catch every night.

In my closet, I had the pink backpack that I had come to Lupins with. I pulled it out frequently, wondering what to put in it, if I should put anything in it at all. No, perhaps not. Besides, it'd look very out of place at Hogwarts. I couldn't remember a single pink object in the castle. Well, except perhaps Lockhart's Valentines day robes.

Finally, on the day that Harry would run from his house, I went downstairs. Dad was sitting on the couch, writing out lesson plans. We were getting closer to the start of the school year and he was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I felt proud every single time that I thought about it.

"I'm going to Diagon Alley." I declared, grabbing some floo powder from the jar next to the fireplace. Dad looked up in surprise.

"Now?"

"I had a vision." I proclaimed extravagantly with a teasing smile. "Don't worry, it's not a dangerous one and I'll be home in half an hour to tell you all about it."

"Maybe you could tell me now so I don't worry for half an hour." Dad said, a bit tersely in my opinion.

I sighed. "Harry blew up his aunt. I just want to see him."

"Oh." Dad said, frowning. "And this can't wait until tomorrow morning because?"

"I want to surprise him." I said, stepping into the fireplace. I threw down the power and shouted, "Diagon Alley."

I flew out of the Leaky Cauldron's fireplace. Tom, the bartender looked up a bit surprised. "Bit late, don't you think?"

I smiled at him. "Don't worry, I'm not staying long."

I strode off in the direction of the stairs and mounted them, listening carefully at the doors and finally I came to a room where I heard a somewhat, half familiar voice saying, "Circumstances change, Harry. . . We have to take into account the present climate. . . Surely you don't want to be expelled?"

"Of course I don't." I heard Harry's voice say behind the door. I stood alongside the wall.

"Well then, what's all the fuss about?" The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge said with a bit of a boisterous, fake laugh. "Now, have a crumpet Harry, while I go and see if Tom's got a room for you."

I heard the door open but Fudge didn't look my way, and instead strode down the way I'd come. I slipped into the room. Harry was looking in front of himself at the desk and didn't see me. I snuck up behind him and grabbed his shoulder saying, "Hiya Harry!"

Harry jumped about ten feet in the air and I watched in pleasure as he crashed into the desk behind him. "E-Elizabeth!" He shouted, gasping for breath. "You scared the crap out of me."

I grinned, grabbing a crumpet from the plate. "I'll meet you in room eleven." I said, slipping out of the room again and heading down the hallway. I unlocked the door and slipped into the room, closing the door and locking it again behind me again. Then, I sat down in a chair by the window. Hedwig was already perched on top of the wardrobe and I grinned at her.

I waited a couple of moments and then Tom unlocked the door and led Harry in.

"Hedwig!" Harry gasped.

Hedwig flew down onto Harry's arm, clucking her beak. I giggled.

"Very smart owl you've got there." Tom chuckled. "Arrived about five minutes after you did. If there's anything you need, Mr. Potter, don't hesitate to ask." He gave me a brief look, shrugged, and left the room.

Harry turned to me. "You told Hedwig I'd be here, didn't you?"

I shook my head. "She knew all on her own."

Harry came over and hugged me. "I've missed you Elizabeth."

I grinned, closing my eyes. "I've missed you too."

"Thanks for the present." Harry said. "I love the books, and the sugar quills helped at home too."

"I'm glad." I said, sitting down on his bed. "So, how's your aunt?"

"Deflated and she doesn't remember anything."

"To bad." I yawned. "She'd never pick on you again if she remembered."

"I doubt my uncle and aunt will ever have her over again as long as I'm in the house." Harry said and shrugged. "I don't mind in the very least."

I sighed, sitting up, and looking at the clock. "I told my dad I'd be back home. I'd invite you stay at our place, but I reckon you'd much rather stay here. I'll be back every day though, if you want me to."

"Yeah!" Harry said enthusiastically, which made me very happy. "I'd love that. I would come stay with you but I promised the minister I'd stay here."

"Great! It's no problem." I said, jumping off the bed and kissing his cheek. "But if you do get tired of me, tell me to stay home, kay?"

I exited the room before he could answer and sprinted back to the fireplace. Tom didn't even look up as I disappeared back to my living room.

Dad was still sitting on the couch, looking a bit anxious. "That was thirty-two minutes and twelve seconds, Elizabeth."

I looked at him, open-mouthed. Had he really kept track of every second?

Looking at my face, he burst into laughter. "I'm just joking. I don't know how long you were gone."

I sighed and then joined in the laughing with him. Then I sighed, "I'm going to go up and take a shower." I hesitated. "Are you going to be alright?"

Dad sighed, bookmarking his spot. "Elizabeth, I turn into a werewolf every month. Of course, I'm going to be fine."

I hesitated. Dad stood up and came over to me and gave me a tight hug. "I'm going to be fine, Elizabeth."

I nodded and headed up the stairs, my throat to tight to say anything. Dad would become a werewolf in a week or so, right before term started too! I felt horrible and a wave of anger and determination washed over me in the bathroom. I would make a werewolf cure, I would!

.💙💙💙.

𝕺𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 couple of days, I spent the majority of my time with Harry. He liked to spend the majority of the day at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, working on his homework. Our Uncle and Aunt hadn't let him do his summer homework so he was catching up on it now.

Florean Fortescue knew a lot about medieval witch burnings and loved to talk to both Harry and me about them, considering that was what our History of Magic essay was on. In fact, he knew so much that I threw my old essay in the fire and started on a new one. He also gave Harry and I free sundaes every half an hour.

I didn't like this much, mostly because I felt bad and knew a lot about businesses. So, I usually added the sum total of the sundaes up and left the money in the tip jar. I think he knew I was doing this though because our sundaes seemed to get larger every day.

Harry was also practicing the art of self control. This made me laugh but since he'd never had his own money, he finally knew how hard it was not to spend it on cool things. I had grown up poor, but before I learned about money, nearly everything I asked for- usually books- dad found a way to provide it or find a substitute. Once I learned about money, I stopped asking for stuff. I had practiced self-control for a long time until I'd found my fortune under Gringotts.

Harry and I also got our books one day. I'd been begging him to do this for ages and finally he gave in.

It was a bit funny as we entered Flourish and Blotts, the manger came hurrying towards us. "Hogwarts? Come to get your new books?"

"Yes." Harry started to say, pulling out his list, "I need-"

"Get out of the way." The manager said quite impatiently, pushing past us. He drew on a pair of thick gloves and picked up a walking stick and proceeded toward the door of the Monster Books' cage. I supposed they were being kept in the cage so that they weren't scuttling all over the shop, tearing up other books.

"Hang on!" Harry said quickly. "We've already got those."

"Have you?" There was a flash of relief on the manager's face and he put the stick and gloves back down. "Thank heavens for that. I've been bitten five times already this morning-"

There was a loud ripping noise as suddenly, two of the books seized a third and started to rip it apart.

"Stop it! Stop it!" The manager said, picking up the stick again and breaking them apart. "I'm never stocking them again, never! It's been bedlam! I thought we'd seen the worst when we bought two hundred copies of the Invisible Book of Invisibility- cost a fortune and we never found them. . . Well. . . is there anything else I can help you with?"

I strode towards the Monster's cage and stuck my hand in, rubbing my finger along the binding. I did this with each book and they all stopped scratching and tearing and biting and stacked on top of each other nicely. I turned back around as the manager gaped at me.

"Yes." Harry said, looking down at his list and smiling. "We need Unfogging the Future by Cassandra Vablatsky."

"Ah, starting Divination, are you?" He led the two of us to the back of the room where a small table was stacked with books like Predicting the Unpredictable: Insulate Yourself Against Shocks, Broken Balls: when Fortunes Turn Foul, and Intro to Tarot. "Here you go." The manager said, handing me my copy.

I rattled off the rest of the books that I needed and watched Harry out of the corner of my eye as he observed a book called Death Omens: What to Do When You Know the Worst Is Coming.

"Oh, I wouldn't read that if I were you." The manager said, my letter in his hand but addressing Harry. "You'll start seeing death omens everywhere. It's enough to frighten anyone to death." When Harry didn't answer, he pressed Unfogging the Future into his hands, breaking Harry out of his trance.

"Anything else?" The manager asked.

"Yes. Er- I need Intermediate Transfiguration and the Standard Book of spells, Grade three."

The manager bustled off and brought back our books, handing each of us our relative stack. I grabbed the Intro to Tarot book and tucked it under my arm.

We paid for our books and left Flourish and Blotts. Harry didn't speak a single word and kept bumping into things, seeming a bit dazed. I kept my mouth shut though. I guess Sirius had gone and seen him too. Unlike me however, it seemed Harry didn't remember him. I said good-bye as we reached the Leaky Cauldron. It was nowhere near the time for me to leave, but he didn't seem to notice as he stumbled up the stairs to his room.

At home, I dumped the books on my bed and went back downstairs, grabbing my jacket. It was raining outside and I splashed in puddles on my way to Trang's house.

I arrived at Trang's house and knocked on the door and she let me in. Actually, she pulled me in and I stumbled over the doorstep.

"My American celebrities magazine just came in!" Trang said, giggling and I continued tripping over my own two feet as she dragged me up the stairs without waiting for me to catch my balance.

I was a bit interested. I didn't know much about America though I'd studied some of their history. I heard that their entertainment was grand though.

We went up to her bedroom and she pulled out some of her magazines, the newest on top. We looked through them together.

She kept pointing out different guys and asking me if they were cute.

"Is he cute?" She asked, pointing to a white guy. He was wearing a nice suit with a white shirt and red tie. He had a wonderful smile and I looked at his description. He was in real estate and had a cameo in Home Alone 2.

"He is handsome." I corrected, blushing a little, looking for his name. Donald Trump. "So these are the men you have in America?"

Trang giggled, "He's much older now, but yeah. What about this guy?"

I looked at the picture. He had the thin makings of a mustache and black hair, a bit curly. He seemed to be surprised in the photo that he was in. I looked at his description. Played Iron man in all the movies.

"Robert Downey Jr?" I asked, my voice squealing. "I'm in love with him!"

Trang chuckled. "All the Marvel actors are quite good-looking, aren't they?"

I rolled my eyes. "Have you seen Paul Bettany? Will Smith? Personal favorite, Benedict Cumberbatch."

"Actually, he's British." Trang laughed again. "Who's your favorite American actor?"

I leafed through her celebrity magazine. "Donald Trump." I finally said.

Trang rolled her eyes. "Have you ever even watched any of his movies?"

"Yeah!" I lied. "Okay, no, but I think he's hot."

"He is, isn't he!" Trang agreed dreamily.

We spent the rest of the afternoon looking through the magazines and pointing out whos hottest and then moved onto British celebrities and ranking the Beatles from hottest to least hottest. I ranked mine as John Lennon, Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr, and George Harrison. Trang ranked hers as Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr, John Lennon, and George Harrison.

Then, we moved our conversation to school.

"So, you're dads got a new job, again?" Trang asked innocently, reorganizing her magazine collection. It was sad to see that her American collection had grown larger than her British one. (I didn't blame her. The American guys were definitely hotter and if I was old enough, I would've married Robert Downey Jr- or so I believed. But that was only if Benedict Cumberbatch was still unavailable).

"Yeah, he's actually is going to be a teacher at my school." I said slowly, flipping through a different magazine. All the guys in this one were surfers. Usually blond, rather tan, and blue eyes. I wasn't sure if the magazine was for the surfboards or the guys.

"Oh! That's very interesting." Trang asked, still leafing through a magazine. It seemed a little to fast for her to actually be reading it. Her voice was very breezy too. "What subject is he going to teach? I didn't realize he had a teaching degree."

My cheeks flushed the way they did when I was caught keeping the magical world from Trang. I decided to go as close to the subject as possible. "Mythology."

There was a hint of recognition in Trang's eyes and then it was gone. "That's interesting. So magical creatures and stuff like that?"

"Yeah." I said, nearly holding my breath. "So what about you? How's school for you?"

Trang went along with the subject change. "Well, it's certainly interesting. I'll be starting freshman year and I've taken up an instrument, I told you that, didn't I?"

She'd mentioned it briefly in one of her letters. "I think so." I said.

"Viola." She said. "I'm not very good at it though."

"I bet." I said, a smile growing on my face and a teasing look in my eyes.

She looked at me in fake hurt. "You take that back, right now!"

"Make me!" I said, leaping to my feet and grabbing a pillow. She grabbed a larger pillow and we started to attack each other. I smacked her across the hips and she slammed her pillow over my head. I stumbled back and attacked her legs. We collapsed on each other, laughing and giggling and wrestling.

We lay there for a long time, laughing and catching our breath.

"ARE YOU GIRLS OKAY UP THERE?" Trang's mother called from downstairs.

This brought on another bout of giggles and then Trang sat up and said, "I have a secret to tell you." Her eyes were shining. She whispered in my ear, "I started my period!"

"Really!" I shrieked, a bit jealous. She was growing up much faster than I was! "Lucky!"

"Not really." She said, giggling uncontrollably. "My back hurts like hell."

I asked a multitude of questions about what it was like, what it felt like, etc. I knew I had reached the age that it usually started and I couldn't wait. Or, based on what she was saying, perhaps I could. But I was in awe because I didn't know what it would be like and I didn't have a mother or mother like figure in my life to tell me. . . perhaps Mrs. Weasley but that would certainly be one awkward conversation. Trang was like my sister (though I'd always thought of her as a little sister). Now, I thought of her like my big sister, telling me the secrets of adulthood.

"GIRLS?" Trang's mother called up the stairs.

"YEAH, MOM?" Trang called back in an annoyed tone.

"THAT TV SHOW YOU GUYS WATCH. . .SCOOBY-DO I THINK IS ON! DIDN'T YOU SAY YOU WANTED TO WATCH IT?"

"Oh yeah. . ." Trang muttered and I sat up quickly. She turned to me, "You want to watch?"

I scoffed. "Of course I do. Scooby-doo is one of the best shows out there!"

"COMING!" Trang called down the stairs.

We sprinted from her room down the stairs and into the living room. The TV was already on, the Scooby-Doo theme song playing.

You know we got a mystery to solve so, Scooby-doo be ready for your act- don't hold back-

"And, Scooby doo, if you come through you're gonna have yourself a SCOOBY SNACK!" Trang and I sang together, collapsing on the couch and giggling. Trang grabbed the remote, turning it up.

Lovely, buttery smells wafted in from the kitchen and Trang's mother brought us out Cola's and popcorn. We thanked her and settled in for an hour of about four Scooby-doo episodes.

Trang's mother invited me to stay over for dinner but I said good night and headed home. I'd stayed over later than I should've but I had a fancy for Scooby-doo. I know, childish, but it was my favorite show and Dad didn't have a TV.

Dad had dinner ready and I felt a bit bad. I usually made dinner and I never wanted him to make dinner. He wasn't a bad cook, but he'd taken me in and I wanted to repay for it.

"Elizabeth?" He called as I closed the door behind me.

"Yeah dad?" I asked, sadly. I knew what tonight was and that was another reason I should've made dinner. He'd stayed longer than he should've.

"I have to go."

"I know, I'm so sorry I didn't come sooner. I lost track of time."

Dad rushed from the kitchen and kissed my forehead. "Don't worry about it." And then he was rushing out the back door and I heard a crack which meant that he'd apparated.

I felt a heavy weight of anxiety settle on me and I went to bed without dinner.

.💙💙💙.

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌, I woke up with a heavy heart, knowing that tonight Dad was going to turn into a werewolf.

Dinner was still on the stove, having not been eaten last night and, cursing under my breath, I threw it in the garbage. I'd have to make something for dad when he came home tomorrow morning. . . something to eat before we boarded the train.

I met Harry in his bedroom and we wandered out after he'd eaten breakfast. We went back to to the Quidditch store. Harry came here every day because he wanted to look at the Firebolt. My stomach turned with anticipation every time I saw it. It was the most gorgeous broom I had ever seen since Silver Arrows. Even my Nimbus 2000, a wonderful beautiful broom, somehow wasn't in the same beauty rank as this one.

The cherry handle and all the twigs that gave it the impression that it was on fire near the end. I sighed. I had the money in my vault. I wondered if it would even make a dent. But there was no way that I was going to empty my vault on a broom. What if dad had a financial issue and our vault couldn't fix it and I didn't have any gold in my separate vault because I'd spent it on a nice broom?

"Let's go to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor." I said suddenly, a flash of a vision lingering in my eyes.

Harry pursed his lips. "I don't know if that's where we should eat today."

I rolled my eyes. "That's not why I want to go there." I grabbed his hand and pulled him along to the Ice Cream Parlor.

"Elizabeth! Harry!" Hermione called from one of the seats at the Ice-cream. Harry grinned at me.

"Finally!" Ron said as we sat down at the table. "We went to the Leaky Cauldron, but they said you'd left, and we went to Flourish and Blotts, and Madam Malkin's, and-"

"I got all my school stuff last week." Harry said and then asked, "And how come you knew I'm staying at the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Dad." Came Ron's one-word answer.

"Did you really blow up your aunt, Harry?" Hermione asked anxiously.

"I didn't mean to." Harry said as Ron roared with laughter. Under any other circumstances, I would've laughed too, but I just smiled. "I just- lost control."

"It's not funny. Honestly, I'm amazed Harry wasn't expelled." Hermione said sharply.

"So am I." Harry admitted, frowning at the table. "Forget expelled, I thought I was going to be arrested." He looked at Ron and then at me and then back to Ron and asked, "Your dad doesn't know why Fudge let me off, does he?"

"Probably 'cause it's you, isn't it?" Ron shrugged. He was struggling to speak without breaking into laughter again. "Famous Harry Potter and all that. I'd hate to see what the Ministry'd do to me if I blew up my aunt. Mind you, they'd have to dig me up first, because Mum would've killed me." I did laugh at this but it was a bit thin. "Anyway, you can ask Dad this evening. We're staying at the Leaky Cauldron tonight too! So you can come to King's Cross with us tomorrow Hermione's there as well!"

Hermione nodded, beaming. "Mum and Dad dropped me off this morning with all my Hogwarts things. Are you staying over, Elizabeth?"

I shook my head. "Nah, I'm going with Dad to Kings Crossing tomorrow." At least, I certainly hoped so. I didn't foresee any trouble though.

"Excellent." Harry said happily. "So, have you got all your new books and stuff?"

Ron reached into his bag and pulled out a thin box that I knew contained a wand. "Brand-new wand. Fourteen inches, willow, containing one unicorn tail-hair. And we've got all our books. What about those Monster Books, eh? The assistant nearly cried when we said we wanted two. They were fine until he handed them to us. Once Hermione and I touched em, they came to life and we dropped em and they started tearing up other books."

"What's all that, Hermione?" Harry asked, pointing to the three bulging bags next to her chair.

"Well, I'm taking more new subjects than you, aren't I?" Hermione asked a bit defensively. "Those are my books for Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Alchemy, Divination, the Study of Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies-"

"What are you doing Muggle Studies for?" Ron asked, rolling his eyes. "You're Muggle-born. . ."

I stopped listening. I was so worried about dad. I shouldn't have come today. The last time I'd left the house before he'd come home. . . our house had been robbed and I thought I was going to be murdered.

"Elizabeth?" Harry asked, bringing me back. Ron and Hermione were standing up with their bags and I quickly jumped up.

"Sorry." I muttered and trailed after them as we made our way to the Magical Creature shop. I supposed that Hermione was going to get an owl then. Or a big huge fluffy orange cat was what she really was going to get.

"So, Elizabeth?" Ron asked, "What kind of owl is Hermione going to get?"

I sighed. "She's not."

She gave me a look, "Then what am I going to get?"

"A cat named Crookshanks." I said in a dull voice. "He's a big orange cat."

"Yes." Ron sniggered. "We got that he was a cat the first time."

"I'm going to wait outside." I said. Ron and Hermione went in but Harry stayed outside a moment longer.

"Are you okay?"

I shook my head. "No. I'll tell you eventually, just not right now, kay?"

Harry nodded his head and headed into the shop. I closed my eyes. I wanted to see dad arriving home safely. It took a heck of a lot of concentration and a lot of mis-visions taking place at Hogwarts. Eventually, I found a vision of dad sitting on the Hogwarts train, his raggedy trunk up in the luggage compartment, fast asleep.

I opened my eyes, a weight lifting off my chest. Suddenly, Scabbers- Ron's rat- shot out of the Pet store. I quickly lunged and picked him up.

"Yeesh, Scabbers." I said. "The cat wasn't going to kill you." I stared at him a bit longer. "To bad it didn't." I added on for a random reason. I felt a sudden intense dislike for the rat. But that might have been because I absolutely hated rats.

Ron and Harry raced out of the shop, looked around, and I held Scabbers out to Ron. I didn't want to touch such filth.

"What was that?" Ron asked Harry.

"It was either a very big cat or quite a small tiger." Harry said placidly.

"Where's Hermione?" Ron asked, looking around.

"Getting her cat." Harry said.

At that moment, Hermione came out clutching a large orange cat with a squashed face. It was also a bit bowlegged. Seeing it in the light made me realize that it wasn't orange, but rather ginger.

"You bought that monster?" Ron asked, his mouth hanging open. He turned to me, "That's the cat that you saw?"

I nodded, my lips twitching. "Don't you think you're overreacting a bit?" I asked innocently. I personally hoped the cat killed Scabbers. . .but why? Why the sudden intense disliking of Ron's pet rat? Each year, there was someone I didn't like for uncertain reasons until they were revealed at the end of the year: Quirrell, Lockhart, and now a rat. I shrugged. I supposed I'd find out eventually as I always did.

"He needs rest and relaxation! How's he going to get it with that thing around?"

I sighed. "They will be in separate dorms. Now, can we please go up to the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Hoping to see Fred?" Ron asked, flashing me a smirk.

I blushed bright red and muttered something along the lines of no, not at all. The others laughed and we headed up the street to the Inn.

We entered and found Mr. Weasley sitting at the bar, reading a newspaper. "Harry! Elizabeth! How are you?" He asked, looking up as we came in.

"Fine, thanks." Harry said.

"Wonderful." I said, just a bit too heartily, "How are you, Mr. Weasley?"

"Ah." Mr. Weasley said, putting down the paper and showing the picture of Sirius Black staring up at us.

"They still haven't caught him, then?" Harry asked, interested.

"No. They've pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry to try and find him, but no luck so far." Mr. Weasley said, polishing his glasses quickly before putting them back on.

"Would we get a reward if we caught him?" Ron asked, interested. "it'd be good to get some more money-"

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron." Mr. Weasley said shortly. He looked very stressed, I realized. A bit like Dad before a full moon. Just not as sick looking. "Black's not going to be caught by a thirteen-year-old wizard. It's the Azkaban guards who'll get him back, you mark my words."

Before anymore could be said, Mrs. Weasley showed up in the bar, laden down with shopping bags and followed by the twins, Percy, and Ginny.

Percy walked up to Harry and held his hand out solemnly like they'd never met and said, "Harry. How nice to see you."

"Hello Percy." Harry said, a quiver in his voice. Like me, he was trying very hard not to laugh.

"I hope you're well?" Percy said, pompously, shaking hands.

"Very well, thanks-" Harry said with a hiccup, still trying not to laugh.

"Harry!" Fred said, elbowing Percy out of the way. My laughs were about to come through. Fred bowed deeply. "Simply splendid to see you, old boy-"

I started giggling.

Now, George elbowed Fred out of the way, seizing up Harry's hand. "Marvelous. Absolutely spiffing."

I was openly laughing now. Percy was scowling.

"That's enough, now." Mrs. Weasley said, exchanging a look with her husband. I looked back. He was grinning as well, covering it up now that Mrs. Weasley was scolding him.

"Mum!" Fred said, turning and seizing her hand into both of his. "How really corking to see you-"

"I said, that's enough." Mrs. Weasley said and the shopping bags went into an empty chair. "Hello, Harry dear. Hello, Elizabeth. I suppose you've heard our exciting news? Second Head Boy in the family!" She said, swelling up with pride. Percy was wearing the silver badge on his chest.

"And last." Fred muttered under his breath. I giggled again.

"I don't doubt that." Mrs. Weasley said, frowning. "I notice they haven't made you two prefects."

"What do we want to be prefects for?" George said, looking as though he was allergic to the idea. "It'd take all the fun out of life."

Ginny and I laughed.

"You want to set a better example for your sister!" Mrs. Weasley snapped at them.

Percy said, "Ginny's got other brothers to set her an example, Mother. I'm going up to change for dinner. . ."

He strode proudly up the stairs while the rest of us laughed. George heaved a large sigh and turned to Harry and I. "We tried to shut him in a pyramid. But mum spotted us."

I giggled and then glanced up at the clock. It was getting on pretty late. I should go back to the house for dinner. . .Dad would be home from last nights full moon. . .

"Hey Liz!" Fred said, coming up to join our little cluster.

"Hey Fred." I said, blushing. "Thank you for the birthday present, it was real lovely."

Fred grinned. "Oh, glad you liked it. You figured out how to enlarge it then?"

"Dad did it for me." I said.

"Are you staying for dinner?" Fred asked.

I hesitated. "I'll ask my dad. But probably not."

"Alright." Fred said, seeming a little disappointed.

I waved bye to all of them and went back home. I tripped over my own two feet getting out of the fireplace and landed on the floor.

"Ow. . ." I muttered, getting up and wiping the soot off my knees. "Dad?" I called out hesitantly.

There was no answer and my heart started pumping. I thought about going back to the Leaky Cauldron to get the others but thought against it. Perhaps dad was outside. I hurried into the kitchen, pausing to look at the calendar. Oh wait. . .tonight was full moon.

For some reason, he had changed his spot for transforming into a werewolf. He still hadn't told me why. That's why he left yesterday. It still threw me off, always making me think that the night he left was the night of the full moon. But no, tonight was full moon.

Well then, I would go back to the Leaky Cauldron and eat dinner with the Weasleys. I'm sure dad wouldn't mind as long as I was back in time to pack. . .I'd have to pack for him too.

I waited until dinnertime, reading It by Stephen King. It was a vulgar horror book, with many cuss words and sexual occurrences. I knew dad hadn't read it because if he had read it, I certainly wouldn't be sitting here reading it right now. He'd have burned it before letting me read it.

At the moment, I was reading a very vivid scene in the beginning of the book between Beverly and her husband Tom. Tom was reliving some of the nights he'd 'trained' Beverly so that she didn't smoke cigarettes. Very strange feelings came over me whenever I read that part and I didn't completely understand the feelings at all.

Despite that, the book was very good, though a bit inappropriate, and I read it over and over again between other books.

When dinnertime came, I went back to the Leaky Cauldron and joined the Weasleys, Hermione, and Harry. I sat between Fred and Ginny, talking to each of them in turns.

There were five different courses that we ate through. Well, they did. I'm a picky bird. First there was an appetizer of bread and fruits and cheeses. And then soup and salad followed by some sort of magical food that I'd never had before. There was stew after that with more bread followed by spotted dick.

Then, for dessert there was chocolate pudding. I didn't care for it much and nibbled around it. The conversation was very light and fun. I'd never quite eaten in an atmosphere like it. If it was dad and I, we might be reading or doing mundane talk. If it was Trang and I, we were talking about American, British or Australian actors or American politics or American food (I found out that American pizza wasn't a disease after all, but quite like an Italian pizza just with more grease). At Hogwarts, well I usually didn't eat with everyone else at Hogwarts.

As we neared the end of dessert, Fred asked, "How're we getting to King's Cross tomorrow, Dad?"

Oh, I had forgotten that they didn't have a car again. I quickly glanced at Mrs. Weasley and felt guilt surge through me. I put my spoon down. I had forgotten to put gold in their vault this year. I'd have to do that next year.

"The Ministry's providing a couple of cars." Mr. Weasley said in what he probably thought was an offhand, causal voice. Everyone except Mrs. Weasley and I looked up at him.

"Why?" Percy asked, curious.

"It's because of you, Perce." George said in the most serious voice he could muster. "And there'll be little flags on the hoods, with HB on them-"

"-for Humongous Bighead." Fred finished for him.

Everyone except for Mrs. Weasley and Percy snorted into their pudding. I was a bit surprised that Mr. Weasley had laughed, simply because Percy was his son, and that Hermione had laughed, because she liked Percy. But then, again, it was funny.

"Why are the Ministry providing cars, Father?" Percy asked, trying to be dignified and show that he was above petty insults. But he clearly upset because he'd said 'are' instead of 'is.' Why is the Ministry providing cars, Father? I may not have mentioned this before, but I hate improper grammar.

"Well, as we haven't got one anymore, and as I work there, they're doing me a favor-" Mr. Weasley said, his ears red. But he'd said the sentence so casually.

An unexpected flash was in my head.

"Elizabeth?" Mrs. Weasley asked and I jerked, "Are you okay, dear?"

"Oh!" I said, bit loudly. "yeah, I'm fine." I blushed and looked down at the table.

Dinner finished and the Weasleys started to make their way upstairs, but I grabbed Harry's arm and jerked my head towards the door to the back of the Inn.

"What did you see?" Harry asked the minute we were outside. He tapped the proper brick and we started to walk down the street of Diagon Alley.

"Well, it wasn't much, but it was the answer to why Fudge let you off without any punishment, and why the Ministry is giving Weasley the car. It's why the Weasleys even stayed over a night instead of staying at the burrow. It's cause of Sirius Black. The Ministry believes that Black is coming after you."

"After me?" Harry asked incredulously. "But why?"

I shook my head. "That part, I don't know. Nor do I even believe or know if he really is coming after you. However, it's believed that he is coming after you because he was friends with ou- your father. I don't know all of it though."

Harry looked stunned.

"I have to go, Harry." I said and we turned back around. Once we were back in the Inn, I said, "Harry, Mr and Mrs. Weasley will be talking about it in the parlor. I don't know if you've missed the conversation by talking with me, but maybe you could catch something."

I waved, hopped in the fireplace and went home. Was Sirius after Harry? If so, why? I climbed the stairs, brushed my teeth, and got into bed. I rolled over and over, distracted by the fact that dad wasn't home yet. Finally, I got out of bed, and went into Dad's room, grabbing a throw blanket and fell asleep in his bed.

⬅️➡️

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judeschoices · 2 years

Text

Good Enough

A Tyler Woods story because I highkey don’t like how PB was setting up his character in the beginning. So I wanna do him some form of justice with a fanfic because he deserves better. Just to make it crystal clear, I don’t condone violence unless it’s a last resort sort of thing.

Thankfully Tyler got more character development as time passes but to satisfy my growing disappointment, I’ll create a backstory for him.

You should know I name my MCs Judith (I actually did a guy route for COP, so any male MC would be named Jude). So it’s gonna be Tyler Woods x Valentine Judith Stone (both characters are black, surprise surprise).

On with the story!

Book: Murder at Homecoming

Pairing: Tyler Woods x Valentine “Judith” Stone

Rating: Teens

Tags: Reflective, Fluff, Mutual Pining (ish)

——————————————

Tyler Woods grew up as someone who was always questioning his worth. With the life he’s lived thus far, it’s been a common thing where he would ask himself the question:

‘Am I good enough?’

His mother worked endless hours at a diner to help support the family and to get Tyler into a good school where he can get a good education. His father has been in and out of jail for selling drugs around the block. This has been happening since he was eight years old.

After seeing what his father is doing with his life and how his dear mom went through so much to put him a better position, he silently vowed to be someone great. Only… it didn’t turn out that way.

Growing up as a kid leading up to his now late teenage years, Tyler didn’t live in a safe gated community like his peers. Where he lived, drug dealing and robberies were common. His version of a lullaby was the sound of police sirens and gunshots. He didn’t wear anything flashy or brand names since his mom couldn’t afford such things. This didn’t go unnoticed by his richer classmates.

They would laugh and jeer at his hand-me-down clothes and sneakers. Whisper amongst themselves to watch their stuff closely just in case he would try to steal it. Talk down at him for what type of family he came from. He was constantly picked on for his lanky build, an easy target for bullies to vent their own anger out on.

His teachers were no better. No matter how many times he’s told an adult or even gotten his mother involved, the bullying didn’t stop. Tyler knew it was because the last thing the school needs is to lose a rich future beneficiary. They’ll gladly expel him first before even thinking about have a parent teacher conference for one of those stuffy rich kids. Gladly tell him that he would never become anyone worth remembering.

Tyler tried keeping his head down best he could but it wasn’t until one day one of his bullies slammed him against the lockers. He was already having a sour day. He missed the bus early that morning and had to run several blocks to the next bus stop if he wanted to the slightest chance to getting to school on time. He failed another one of his math tests for a third time in a row. He forgot his essay at home since he spent most of the night writing and falling asleep at his desk, thus making him miss his alarm and late for school. He almost fell asleep in his last class for the day and the teacher made a show of hitting his knuckles with a ruler with the entire class laughing at him.

With all that and now his supposed daily dose of bullying, something in the young boy snapped. His hand curled into a fist before he could think twice about what he was doing and he swung.

Tyler could never fully remember what happened. The next thing he remember was being the office, both him and the bully dawning quite a few bruises.

He and the kid were suspended for fighting. While he was upset about having to stay home and disappointing his mother, he felt a bit better that there was a bit of justice in the situation.

That he finally stood up for himself.

He didn’t want to be other peoples’ doormat anymore.

Granted he didn’t go looking for fights, he didn’t want to jeopardize the opportunity his mother worked so hard to give him. So he took up running. Running was his personal escape from reality. Where he felt free. Where he could be himself. Where he knew it didn’t matter what was your background or what your status was, it was about your athletic prowess. He tried out for the track team and easily got on the team. His skill made him recognizable among his peers.

But he never got over his anger and trauma from dealing with the upper crest of society.

It only grew worse as he entered high school. It was like no matter what he did, it was like someone was out to get him. Everyone seemed to hate him because some low life from the rough part of town could easily smoke them on the track field.

He hated what happened to Brett’s sister.

He hated that he stressed his mom about the potential expulsion.

He hated that once he was expelled, they’ll easily replace him with someone else.

He hated that he was never good enough.

When Gabbie offered to save him from himself, he took the opportunity. He couldn’t let his mom down, he couldn’t let himself down. Gabbie had an influence he could only dream of having. She was his friend.

Though he wished how the next several months played out differently. After the incident, she asked him to be her fake boyfriend. While he did want to ask why, he held his tongue. She helped him when he needed it most, the least he could was to do the same to her.

It’s not like he was interested in someone else for him to say no... or so he thought.

It was two months before Homecoming that he really noticed her.

Infamous kid detective, Judith Stone.

It’s not like he really spoke to her before, it was by chance he even got to interact with her.

She seemed to be in a rush somewhere, but she didn’t seem to notice that he was walking past the corner she about to round. She collided with him like a speeding bullet. After stumbling back a few steps, he was able to steady the both of them.

“Are you okay,” he asked her, holding the girl up by her waist. The head of soft bouncy curls looked up, revealing a pair of big dark brown eyes. Tyler felt his mouth dry up as those eyes blinked slowly as him. Full lips parted as Judith spoke,

“Yeah. Thank you, Tyler.” The girl pulled away from the track star’s embrace before rushing off.

Tyler watched after her with a dumbfounded expression and a fluttering heart.

Tyler had little crushes in the past. But Judith was a different story. It wasn’t something that died in a few days or even a few weeks. It lasted for months and showed no signs of fizzling out.

Tyler tried to talk himself out of liking her. Like many of the girls he’s crushed on, they would never give him the time of day. People already look at him sideways for “dating” Gabbie. He would always hear how he wasn’t good enough for the likes of her and how she could possibly see something in him.

Judith couldn’t possibly see him like he saw her. No matter how desperately he wished for there to be some sort of chance.

Then Homecoming night came.

When he saw Judith slide into the limo, he almost choked. The short shimmery 20′s style dress hugged her figure perfectly. Her hair was braided back and formed a low bun, revealing her face. Those dark brown eyes scanned the car’s occupants and finally landed on him. He could feel his heart kickstart in his chest as she greeted him with a small smile.

On the way to the school, he kept stealing glances at the girl detective, wishing that it was her that was wrapped under his arm...

Then the news of Gabbie’s death came crashing down on all of them. He felt crushed that his friend died, believing it was his fault. During their “relationship”, Gabbie was being highly secretive. It drove him crazy sometimes because he would have to cover for her and he had no idea what exactly he was helping her hide. He even considered following her to get some answers but decided against it, not wanting to risk getting caught.

Though he didn’t expect Gabbie’s death would lead to him talking to Judith...

...well after she broke into his locker, broke into his car, hopped out of his moving car, sent him on a wild goose chase into the woods, nearly smacked him with tree branch wielded in her small hands, and accused him of murdering Gabbie.

What a crazy start to their story.

Even when she looked ready to knocked his head clean off his shoulders, he couldn’t help but to find her beautiful. The setting sun bathe her in a breathtaking glow. He couldn’t look away from her eyes.

No matter how angry those eyes seem to be, he couldn’t help but to be captivated at how they lit up from a dark, almost black, color to a rich mahogany brown.

They sat and chatted by the cliff side once she was through with interrogating him. Not willing to let the girl go just yet, he invited Judith to the diner where his mom used to work at. He never brought anyone else there before. Not even Gabbie.

The place was one of the few places that was near and dear to him. He had memories of sitting at one of the retro booths, watching his mom flit from table to table while he did his homework. The workers adored her, him as well.

Whether Judith knew it or not, he was letting her in on something he would never show to others.

...and he may or may not have been treating it as if it was date.

What? You can’t blame a guy for wishing for something more with the girl he’s been pining after for months.

Hearing her talk about herself intrigued him. Especially when he learned Judith wasn’t even her real first name. He knew she preferred to go by her middle name but he hoped that maybe one day he would be special enough to call her Valentine.

For her to be his little Valentine.

Though he felt his hopes were being dashed as they started working together. He almost found himself getting into fights with their persons of interests, nearly ruining their chances of gathering any intel. Judith had to step in each time do some level of damage control because his sorry ass couldn’t control his temper.

He felt ashamed with himself.

The last thing he wanted was for her to see him to be more of a hindrance rather a beneficial partner. See him as some bullhead jock.

All he wanted was to be good enough for her...

The dwindling hope he felt sparked anew when they shared their first kiss. At first, he couldn’t believe it. After she basically cornered him into confessing on why the track had it out for him and how he almost got expelled, he felt like she was going to shun him. As if the last shred of good that she possibly saw him whittered away.

Hearing her say that she didn’t hate him and she saw that he was trying to make amends to what had happened in the past nearly made him sag in relief. He really did care about how she thought of him and wanted nothing more but to stay in her good graces.

He wanted to be more than that little boy who was shunned by everyone because his social status in society was beneath theirs. More than the kid that thought that standing up for himself was using his fists first and words later. More than some fake boyfriend.

He wanted to be Tyler Woods, someone who was more than his circumstances. A young man with a promising future ahead of him and was making his hardworking mother proud. A boy who had the heart and affections of a certain girl detective.

He remembered giving her a small smile when she shifted forward. The solid thump his heart gave against his ribcage when those full pouty lips he secretly daydreamed about brushing against his own nearly made him breathless. He immediately leaned in the rest of the way, kissing her with all the pent up emotion he’s been feeling for months. Feeling her cup his face as she kissed him back with the same energy made him melt a little on the inside. He tried leaning over on her side as much as he physically could, wanting to make the moment last between them.

As much as he wanted the special moment to last forever, they both needed to breathe at some point.

Pulling apart, he felt as if he was blinded by her breathtaking smile.

“I honestly wanted to do that for so long...” Judith raised an amused brow at the track star’s breathless confession.

“Oh? How long are we talking,” she asked. Tyler could feel his face heat up and he knew she could probably feel it, seeing how she was still cupping his face with her delicate hands.

“Since... since you ran into me that one time. Few months before Homecoming. I wasn’t sure if you would even like me and with everything that’s been going since Homecoming, it probably would be weird to confess such a thing,” he shyly admitted. The girl let out a chuckle, the sound was rich and warm. It reminded Tyler of drinking a cup of hot chocolate.

“Dork. It just so happened I like weird,” she mumbled, looking into his eyes. Tyler could see the sincerity in those dark irises and he felt a goofy grin break out on his face and he leaned in for another kiss.

Since then, Judith seemed to be opening up about her feelings towards him, and Tyler couldn’t be anymore happier about it.

The night they stayed out together to share the cheesecake they won with Donovan and Stevie was growing proof that she returned his feelings. She was going out her way to get him alone and that thought alone made him feel giddy on the inside.

He originally didn’t really want to do the trivia night. Donovan, Judith, and Stevie seemed so much smarter to him, what could he possibly contribute. But once they all got a groove of things, he found himself enjoying their company. When Donovan and Stevie left, he felt his heart flutter at the smile Judith was giving him.

They laughed at their first real interaction outside of Homecoming, she comforted him on his insecurities, and got to share something sweet with her.

And it wasn’t just the cheesecake.

Tyler had been secretly hoping to experience another kiss with her. He hasn’t stopped thinking about their first kiss. Her lips were the softest thing he’s ever felt and she tasted like vanilla. Tasting that familiar vanilla bean chapstick mixed with the cheesecake they shared was a heady combination. He wrapped an arm around her waist, eager to have her closer to him.

The kiss was curious and sweet. As if they wanted to explore their feelings in this new tender way neither of them would have suspected months ago.

“Mmm... I was wondering when we were going to do that again,” he mumbled, gazing into those dark eyes. Judith graced him with one of her bright smiles, slender fingers fiddled with his necklace as she gazed back.

“Whenever you want,” she said, kissing his cheek. He chuckled at the mental image that popped up in his mind.

“I don’t think Donovan and Stevie would like that very much. Especially Stevie,” he challenged with a cocked brow. Judith let out a chuckle of her own.

“Okay, fair. How about this, you can kiss me any time you want to and we’re not with either of them,” she concede. Tyler leaned in, pecking her lips a few more times. When he opened his eyes, Judith could see his eyes darken with want as he slowly licked his lips.

“Oh, you’re definitely gonna regret saying that,” he mumbled, his voice taking on a more huskier edge. Judith smirked at the track star.

“Somehow I don’t think I will,” she teased, her voice coming out as a purr as she ran her fingers over the back of his neck. Tyler mentally groaned.

‘She’s going to be the death of me...’

Despite them coming together under unique circumstances... Tyler never felt like more of a normal teenager before. Some days, his basic goal was just to make the stoic girl smile she rarely lets anyone else see.

Like when she texted him hours before the party.

Well... when he mentioned “pre-game”, he was hoping for a few kisses as well.

Tyler was quickly developing a sweet tooth for Judith kisses, he is man enough to admit he melts a little when she offers him one.

Though when he notice how stressed the girl seemed to be, he was more than happy to take her mind off of it by spending time with her and her adorable fluffball of a dog, Puck.

He loved their afternoon stroll. Tyler secretly hoped when he found the courage to ask her to be his girlfriend that they could do this more often. Seeing Puck bounce around his owner, seeing her smile adoringly at him. The feeling of her hand intertwined with his. Her head on his shoulder. Seeing Judith try to hide her amused giggle behind her hand as he played with “Pucky-Poo”.

The moment between them was something he never felt before in his life...

He felt like he was finally good enough...

Good enough to be with such a beautiful and captivating girl who so happens to go by the name Valentine Judith Stone.

“I’m just some guy. You’re Judith Stone,” he remarks as he sat on the girl’s bed. They were waiting for Donovan and Stevie to show up so they could all go to the party. Judith was standing in front of him as he said this. Her dark eyes soften as she gazed at him, taking the track star runner by surprise.

“Tyler, you’re definitely not ‘just some guy’. Not to me,” Judith said softly. The air surrounding the two seemed to have shifted. As if both them suddenly realized that they were no longer co-detectives working on a case but two teenagers, alone together in a room...

Judith stepped closer, standing in between the space of Tyler’s knees. Their hands naturally gravitated towards each other. Judith’s hands finding purchase on Tyler’s shoulders, while his hands found the curve of her hips. Their lips met in a gentle kiss, testing the waters and their resolve.

Tyler could feel Judith’s fingers dance along the sensitive skin of his neck before tangling themselves in his curly hair. Her neatly filed nails gently scratched his scalp. A low groan escaped the back of his throat as he tugged the girl closer. Judith seemed catch the hint, straddling the older boy.

“I was hoping this was why you called,” he mumbled against her lips, looking at the young detective with a hooded gaze. Judith gave him a familiar flirtatious smirk.

“Just here for the smooches, are you,” she teased. A low laugh escaped him as he spread kisses all over the girl’s face. Judith giggled at the quick butterfly kisses tickling her cheeks. Tyler gave her a kiss on her forehead, another on the tip of her nose, before finally returning to her lips. Judith let out a small moan when she felt one of Tyler’s hands run up her back, pressing against the space between her shoulder blades to pull her closer. Tyler pulled away to look into her eyes.

“I hope I’ve made it clear that I like you, Judith. Kisses or no,” he whispered in her ear. The girl shuddered at the tickling sensation on her ear. She chuckled.

“But the kisses don’t hurt, now do they,” she teased, running her small hands over his shoulders. Tyler answered her with another kiss.

Tyler knew he would never tire of this act. Getting the chance to feel his crush’s lips against his in an intimate way. Being able to hold her this close. To be surround by the scent of warm vanilla and a sweet musk scent. He let out a soft hum when he felt her arch against him, her thighs tightening around his hips. One of his hands slid in her hair while the other felt along the muscle of her thigh.

He nipped on her lower lip, coaxing her to open up to him. Just as their tongues met, there was a knock at the door.

“Judith! The rest of your friends are here,” her mom called. The pair sprang apart, blushing deeply. But there were twin goofy smiles on their face. Judith place one more kiss on his cheek before answering her mom.

Tyler stared at the teen PI like a lovesick puppy.

‘One day Valentine... one day, I hope to be good enough for you to call me your boyfriend...’

#choices #choices fanfic #Murder at homecoming #mah #mah tyler woods #tyler woods #mah mc #valentine judith stone #tyler woods x mc #tyler woods x valentine judith stone #tyler x judith #fluff #pining

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sleepingnova · 2 years

Note

Nova nova nova!!! My beloved.

I have a quirky lil request 💅

Would you be willing to write for Denki Kaminari from MHA? I haven’t been able to sleep at all lately, and it kinda affects my everyday life.

Do you think you could whip up a little something where Kami finds the reader awake at like 2:30, and tries to help them fall asleep?

ily ily ily

❤️

Ducky my darling :) of course

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜

Synopsis: Denki Kaminari, the boy who never sleeps, is surprised to find you (his new roomie) lying awake at a very odd hour.

Content warning: none! super fluffy super platonic friend cuddles <3

"Room checks. Everybody's ass better be in the right rooms. If you aren't, you will be expelled." The grumpy voice that belonged to Aizawa, announced as he walked through the dorms, with Momo and Tenya following closely behind.

"Sir, not to be nosy, but why is Kaminari with us? Shouldn't he be in his dorm room?" Tenya asked.

Aizawa rolled his eyes and told them to just keep moving. "Nosy ass kids." He mumbled under his breath with a faint chuckle.

They stopped at your dorm room, on the girls floor. He knocked once, twice, then when he heard the all clear, he entered the room.

"Good evening (y/n)." Said both Tenya and Momo in unison. Kaminari simply just waved, with a faint pink tint on his cheeks.

You were fairly attractive, and Kaminari got nervous around you, as he would with Jirou or Yaoyorozu. He wanted to be your friend, but didn't know if he was, given you've seen the things he and mineta have done.

"Good evening Tenya and Yaoyorozu. Hello Kaminari. How can I help you all? Is there a problem?" You responded.

"No, just room checks. Speaking of which, I hope you don't mind but Kaminari's room has flooded from the bathroom above them, and since your floor is below theirs and your dorm is the only one that has space, is it alright if he shares a room with you just until we get his room fixed up? It won't take long, only about a week or two." Aizawa explains.

"But of course! I'm so sorry to hear about your room. You can stay with me as long as you'd like. You can sleep on the couch, it's very comfy." You said with a smile as Kaminari walked into your room.

"Thanks, kiddo. I appreciate it. If he starts bugging you, holler and I'll set him straight. Act right, because this is really your only place to sleep. Unless you'd rather sleep in the common room?" Aizawa replied.

Kaminari shook his head no, and that was that. A few hours later, it's the middle of the night, and you just cannot sleep. You've been having these nightmares for weeks and they just won't let you sleep. You look over from your bed to see Denki quietly playing on his switch on the couch. You walked over quietly and leaned your head in.

He jumped when he noticed you standing behind him.

"God- what are you doing there? Why are you awake? Everything okay?" He asked.

"Sorry, I was bored. Can't sleep. What are you playing?" You asked, with your head tilted.

"oh. it's just super smash bros." He turned off his switch and looked at you.

"ooh I love that game! Can I play? I love Kirby but I named him kirbrbrbrbrbrbr. He's my favorite." You excitedly expressed.

"really? Mine's Bayonetta. I love her play style." He showed while looked at you.

"hands off Bayonetta. she's mine. her and a few others but then you can have the rest." You expressed with a fake pout.

He laughed lightly and invited you to sit with him. You tripped over his backpack and ended up face first into his stomach. He grunted and you turned around.

"Oh my goodness I am so sorry." You expressed with pure embarrassment.

"No no its perfectly alright. Trust me that happens more than you think." He joked while chuckling.

You sat back down and you felt his hands on your hips. You felt him shift and pull you back into his chest. His switch screen was in front of the both of you and had low brightness. You and him played a few rounds together and genuinely had a lot of fun. Sure, he noticed your clock read 5:45 am and he could hear bakugo making his way downstairs but did it matter? Nope. Did he know both of you had a test later on that morning? Absolutely but if he saw you having fun, you could always retake the exam.

Once he saw you had fallen asleep, he had turned slightly to charge his switch. Then he adjusted to fit both of you on the large couch.

"When Aizawa comes, I'll just explain what happened." He whispered to you, who was already peacefully sleeping, cuddled up into his chest.

I hope this bring you comfort :) I was originally going to make this with Shinsou in it but I might just make another ending.

Here you go duck duck hope you like it <3

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fastlikealambo · 2 years

Text

link to chapter one.

Fall of 94′: Eddie Munson x Black Reader Chapter 2

summary:

it’s been nearly 8 years since the events of hawkins and out of the entire party, the only one to stay behind is the one and only eddie munson. with a five year old daughter in tow, his life is a simple one, still trying to escape the dark cloud over him that never went away.

but when all too familiar hellish events start happening again eddie must team up with his daughter’s favorite and mysterious new teacher to protect his little girl and the town he owes nothing to.

warnings: violence, gore, religious trauma, soft dom! eddie, praise kink, smut to end all smut, hawkins indiana is a warning to me. minors dni

two chapters in one day who is she

“ If you let Daddy clean your cuts, you can have one brownie after dinner.”

“Two brownies and a cookie.”

“How about one brownie and a cookie but Daddy gets half the cookie?”

They had been at this for an hour but at last his mischievous daughter had finally claimed victory, distracted by cartoons as he painlessly lifted the band-aids up. It had only been a few hours, they didn’t need to be changed but he couldn’t help but worry, catching a glimpse of his own scars that still managed to peek out over the copious amount of ink he got to cover them.

Even years later, he still dreamed of drowning in his own blood, a small fraction of the horrors he went through all those years ago.

A sigh of relief went through him as Rosie’s cuts were minor and not dripping with radioactive ooze so with a kiss on the top of her head, Eddie went to start on dinner while Rosie, no longer entertained by cartoons, recounting the events of the day.

“The birds were so big and scary but Miss wasn’t scared so I wasn’t scared.”

“I bet you she was really brave, just like you princess. You wanna help set the table?” Eddie asked his grinning daughter who happily began to pull cups and plates from the cupboard.

As he cooked, his mind went to her, the absolute work of art he met mere hours ago and almost accidentally copped a feel. She couldn’t have been in Hawkins long due to the mere fact that she smiled at him instead of shitting a brick at the sight of the town freak, even now.

“She’s so nice but she doesn’t wear any rings like you do daddy.”

Ah, so she wasn’t married.

Get it together man.

“ Do you think the birds will be okay? Their tails looked hurt.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine, sometimes birds get confused.” He reassured the kid who had much more compassion for something that tried to kill her than he did.

“Even the birdie with teeth?”

Eddie put the pot of spaghetti down and looked at his daughter.

No, there’s no way.

“What do you mean with teeth, Rosie? What kind of teeth?” He asked, crouching down to his daughter’s level.

“One of the birds had big sharp teeth and no eyes. I could see it in my cubby but nobody else could. Did I do something wrong Daddy?” She asked, reading the horror on his face and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest.

“ You didn’t do anything wrong, munchkin, not one thing. Come on, let’s get you something to eat, huh? Then you have all the brownies your heart desires.” He said, carrying her to the dinner table, desperately trying to hide his shaking hands.

This couldn’t be happening.

Not again.

Not his baby girl.

You got home late, hands fumbling to shove the many locks in place, the day leaving you exhausted.

But there wasn’t any time to waste, your pills had worn off 10 minutes ago and you knew what was coming. There was barely enough time to close the blinds and check the makeshift soundproofing of your sparse apartment before the pain took over you.

Mama said your god given powers were like a wildfire if they weren’t in use.

She also said you’d never make it on your own but here you were.

You didn’t make it to the bed this time, curling up on the cold floor with a pained wild scream as your power expelled itself from you, shattering glasses, two windows, and the bathroom mirror for the third time since you moved in.

A normal life had a price and this was it.

As you struggled to stay conscious in your home, Eddie finished dinner and put his daughter to bed in his.

Neither of you noticed the flickering lights nor heard the scream of a child being ripped from your world to another.

It was starting again.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson x yn #stranger things fanfiction

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ravennm84 · 3 years

Text

Doctor’s Note

We all know how Lila fakes having different diseases and medical problems, but what would happen if she actually got sick and her mother went to the school to drop off a doctor’s note and pick up Lila’s assignments? Want the answer? Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!

Greta Rossi could admit that she was a bit of a workaholic. Being the secretary to the assistant ambassador of Italy, in a city that was constantly under attack by a magical terrorist, was not the easiest job in the world either. It took a lot of early mornings, late nights, and even some weekends to make sure everything was prepared for her boss. But that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t drop everything for her one and only daughter when she needed her.

Right now, for example, Lila was trapped in bed with a nasty case of strep throat. The poor girl had a fever, white pustules at the back of her throat, and could hardly stop coughing. It was only due to some very strong medicine that she was able to stop coughing long enough to pass out from exhaustion.

She had contacted her work to let them know she would be taking the week off, and the ambassador had been very understanding. Stressing that he knew how dedicated she was to her work and that it was good for her to take time off for her family. It was only after Lila was sound asleep that she made the phone call to her school, she wanted to make sure they knew why Lila was staying home and that she would be in later that afternoon to pick up her daughter’s assignments for the next week.

The principal, M. Damocles was his name, seemed very happy to have spoken to her and said that he would have her assignments waiting when she came to pick them up. Also, if she could bring the doctors’ notes with her, that would be very much appreciated.

Checking again that Lila was sound asleep, she left a note on her daughter’s bedside table that she was running some errands, would be home soon, and to text her if she needed anything.

Arriving at the school, she was surprised to see everything running so smoothly and that the reconstruction after the two month akuma attack had been gone so well. She was impressed that she couldn’t even tell the difference between the old and new parts of the building. But then, she wasn’t overly skilled with architecture or building construction, so that wasn’t a surprise to her.

A few knocks on the door and she entered M. Damocles office. She had only met the man a couple times, but he had seemed like a decent person. It was a shame that he had been akumatized for so long and she was curious about what had happened to cause him to be akumatized, but she wasn’t sure if it was proper to ask him.

“Mme. Rossi, good to see you. I understand that Lila has fallen ill?” He asked, spinning around to grab a blue folder behind his desk.

“Yes, the poor dear has strep throat and has been coughing nonstop for days.” Greta told him as she pulled the doctor’s note from her purse. “Here’s the note you requested, do you have her homework packet?”

Damocles looked over the note for a moment before nodding and looking at her expectantly. “Thank you, do you have her other doctor’s notes?”

Greta tilted her head in confusion. “Does she need more than one? It’s just strep throat, she should be back to school after next week.”

“No madam, this is all I need for her current leave from school. I was referring to the doctor’s notes for her tinnitus, arthritis, sprained wrist, and her lying disease. That last one especially, and any information you can give me on accommodating that one so we do not have a repeat of the incident last month.”

Nothing in the world could have kept her jaw from dropping. What he had just told her? “M. Damocles, everything you just said is completely false. Lila has no such ailments, and I don’t think there is such a thing as a lying disease, unless you are referring to pathological lying.”

The man blinked back at her a few times before raising one hand to rub his brow. “Oh my, Mme. Rossi, I believe you and I must have a long discussion about the things your daughter has been saying and doing since she started school here.”

Her legs were stiff as she lowered herself into a chair, a sick feeling growing in her stomach as M. Damocles pulled a different folder out from his desk.

~oOo~

Over two hours later, many truths had finally come out.

1) The school had never closed for months due to akumas.

2) When M. Damocles had been akumatized, it had been at night and did no damage to the school.

3) Greta was not the ambassador, but a secretary.

4) Lila did not suffer from any diseases.

5) They had been in Paris since Lila had started school, no globetrotting whatsoever.

6) She and her husband were not estranged, he had simply wanted to stay at his dream job in Venice and she would never force him to leave it for her temporary assignment here in Paris.

7) Lila’s grandmother was alive and had never owned or given Lila a foxtail necklace.

8) The phone number on file was Lila’s number, not Greta’s. And the email was supposed to be ‘.gov’ not ‘.com’.

Damocles had also called one of Lila’s classmates to his office, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. When the principal told Greta about the incident from the previous month, she was shocked. Then Marinette told them her side of the story; all the lies, the threats, and finally setting the poor girl up to be expelled. Greta had never been so angry with her daughter in her life. Sure, she had been a good little story teller and actress when she was little, but she never would have thought she could be so cruel.

By the end of her explanation, Marinette was practically in tears.

When she mentioned that Adrien Agreste also knew of Lila’s lies, he was called to the office as well. He was a little more reluctant to talk about what Lila had been saying, but Greta insisted that she wanted to know what her daughter had been doing since coming to school, so he told her. If she hadn’t been disgusted before, she definitely was now. Getting Adrien’s father’s employees in trouble, lying about being friends with Ladybug all while telling Greta that she was a useless hero, sexually harassing Adrien while the boy didn’t even realize that was what she was doing to him. She had become a Gabriel model without her permission, which meant that Lila had likely forged her signatures on the contracts, so she would need to contact M. Agreste to get that sorted out. One of the things that surprised her was hearing that Lila had been akumatized, not once or twice, but three times!

Not long after that, M. Damocles dismissed the children so he and Greta could finish speaking. He told her that, due to falsifying contact records and two months of truancy, Lila was likely to be expelled. Greta accepted this, knowing that she would have done the same thing in that man’s position. In fact, she already had a plan forming on how to thoroughly punish her deceitful daughter. And since Lila had basically been quarantined for the next week and a half, she knew exactly what to do.

First, she began the paperwork to have Lila pulled out of Francois Dupont, effective immediately and asked to go speak to Lila’s classmates. After hearing what her daughter had put Marinette through, she wanted to make sure everyone knew the truth. Damocles allowed this, first pulling Mme. Bustier from the class to alert her as to what was happening. The woman was appalled to hear what had happened but insisted that she had been in contact with her for months via email, to which Greta informed her that it was not her email, but one that Lila had likely set up to keep the school from contacting her. This shocked the teacher to the point where she heavily leaned against the wall and M. Damocles had to support her to keep from collapsing.

When Greta was finally permitted to address the class and debunk the lies that her daughter had been spewing, there had been a lot of shock and questions to follow. But when a girl named Alya began furiously typing on her phone to blow up at Lila, Greta stopped her.

“I’m going to ask that none of you contact Lila from now on.” Alya and the other students looked at her in surprise, but she continued before anyone could interrupt. “I have already begun putting her punishment into motion and know for a fact that it will not be something she will forget anytime soon. So I ask that you do not call, text, or email her. If she attempts to contact you, tell her that you are busy and can’t talk. If she attempts to invite you over or make plans for the future, tell her that you are unavailable or that you already have plans. If she makes any threats or rude remarks to anyone, please forward those messages to me, I will leave my number for you to do so. Do this so that I may move forward with her punishment without her suspecting that I have discovered the truth.”

Having finally had the wool lifted from their eyes, the students realized just how much attention Lila seemed to demand on a daily basis. So, by acting like they were too busy for her or not in the mood to talk, that will drive her crazy and be a nice bit of revenge for lying to them. The class agreed.

After that, Greta headed home to find that Lila was still asleep but beginning to wake up, if the coughing was any indicator. While still having the chance, she called up her husband back in Venice.

“Pronto.”

“Mio amor, how are you? How are things at the school?”

“Ah, mia bella, the school is wonderful, though I must admit, my urge to see you and Lila grows by the minute. When will you come to visit me?”

“Very soon, actually. I’m afraid that you and I need to have a talk about our daughter.” About thirty minutes and a lot of cursing later, Ciro Rossi was now completely up to date on the actions of their daughter.

“I wish to say that I cannot believe Lila would do such things, but I can’t help remembering that boy, Roberto, from two years ago.”

Yes, Greta remembered him well. He had been a very popular boy at Lila’s school; handsome, rich, from a very well connected family, and from what she understood, completely dedicated to his boyfriend. She hadn’t paid him much attention until Lila came home crying that Roberto had attempted to sexually assault her. Greta and Ciro had refused to let such a thing go unchecked and went to the police to report him. During the weeks to follow, Roberto was put through hell; bullied at school, he was beaten up a few times, his boyfriend broke up with him, and his name slandered all over Venice. They had believed what happened to the boy to be justified… until proof was provided that he was nowhere near Lila when she claimed to have been assaulted.

She suddenly recanted her story, saying that she must have been mistaken and someone that looked like Roberto assaulted her, but the damage had already been done. The boy and his family moved somewhere far away, and Greta and Ciro were forced to pay restitution to Roberto for ruining his name and reputation. Through her tears, Lila convinced them that it had been an honest mistake and that she hadn’t meant for any of that to happen. It wasn’t long after that, Greta received an offer to be the secretary for the assistant ambassador in Paris. Lila had begged her mother to go with her, claiming that her classmates were now bullying her for what happened to Roberto. Wanting to protect their daughter, they agreed.

Looking back on it now, and noticing the similarities between Roberto and Adrien, both Greta and Ciro were disappointed in themselves for not seeing the truth. Which likely was that Lila had tried to get close to Roberto for his money and connections, and when he turned her down, she lied about the assault to ruin his life, much like she had done to Marinette. And when it came out that she had lied about Roberto, her classmates had turned on her. So when she got the chance to start somewhere new, with people who didn’t know about her lies, she took it. Not caring if she harmed anyone at her new school while repeating old habits. But they were not about to let Lila do the same thing to Adrien or Marinette. Once Greta told her husband her plan, he was all for it and began preparing things on his end. By the time Lila was done being sick, her entire life would have turned upside down.

~oOo~

It took a lot more effort than Greta had expected to hide her intentions for the nine days it took for Lila to get over her case of strep throat, but she had been making good use of that time.

She had contacted Gabriel Agreste’s secretary and asked about any contracts that may have been signed. When she told her she hadn’t signed any contract and that her daughter would no longer be modelling, the woman had no choice but to accept this and inform M. Agreste of this development. The woman also informed Greta that such a breach of contract would result in Lila being blacklisted from the fashion industry. She agreed and promised that she would inform her daughter of this once she was better.

Greta then looked into Lila’s savings and trust fund, of which she had control of since Lila was still a minor. She drained the accounts to pay restitutions to Marinette for bullying and slander, Adrien for sexual harassment; and then sent the rest of it to Roberto, along with a message that she was now completely aware of the type of person her daughter was and would be adequately punished very soon.

And to keep too much suspicion off of her, Greta began mentioning to Lila how her father desperately wanted to see her after she got better, so after the doctor gave her a clean bill of health, they would be going to Venice to see him. Now that she was watching, Greta saw the twinge of uncertainty at the mention of Venice, but quickly covered it with false excitement for going back to visit her father.

As the day grew closer that they would be heading to Italy, Greta also noticed Lila glaring at her phone with utter malice. She might not have known what was going on if Lila’s classmate, Alya, wasn’t keeping her up-to-date on what Lila was telling them. Her daughter was attempting to tell the class that she was going to be going on a trip with a famous singer after she was better, but her classmates were doing as Greta asked and treating the lies as if they meant nothing. When she accused Marinette of calling her a liar while she was sick and couldn’t defend herself, the class stopped responding.

One message that was forwarded to Greta nearly had her abandoning her plan and confronting her daughter at that moment. It was a message that Lila had sent to Marinette, who had shared it with Alya, who then forwarded it to Greta. It read:

You fugly, no talent bitch! You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Those stupid sheep were eating up every single one of my lies before I got sick, and now they won’t even talk to me! Just you wait. When I get back to school, I’m going to ruin you in every way imaginable. No one will want to be your friend. By the time I’m done with you, I hope you kill yourself. Maybe I’ll convince someone that you tried to kill me and they’ll kill you for me. Either way, you’re dead. And even if you show someone these messages, no one will believe you over me.

Greta forwarded the message to Ciro as well. He called her right away to discuss other accommodations that they would be making for Lila in the coming days. There was something seriously wrong with their daughter, and they refused to turn a blind eye to what was happening.

When the day finally came that Lila was better and they were heading to Venice, Greta instructed Lila not to pack her more expensive clothes as she would not want to lose them if their baggage got lost. What her daughter didn’t know was that Greta was planning on selling all of her designer clothes, jewelry, her electronics, and everything else to continue paying restitutions to Marinette, Adrien, and Roberto. And it wasn’t like she would need them soon, anyway.

The plane ride was a bit nerve racking for Greta, as she worried about giving something away and Lila figuring out her plan; but if she did, it didn’t show. When they landed at Venice Marco Polo Airport, she had to resist her sigh of relief. The plan was almost ready to be put in action.

When she saw Ciro waiting for them in his dress whites, her heart sped a bit more. The man was, without a doubt, the most handsome man she’d ever met, and was the love of her life. Being away from him for so long was difficult, but what else could they do? Her husband was a Capitano di Vascello of the Italian Navy and had worked very hard to get where he was. Although he was semi-retired now and no longer served on a ship, he had followed his dream and became the Vice Principal for the premier naval academy in Venice, Francesco Morosini Naval Military School.

He had gone to the school when he was younger and always claimed that it was the best experience he could have ever wished for. That being in that school saved his life. So when he continued into the navy to serve his country, he made it his goal to one day become the Principal of the school that saved him, so that he could do the same for other students. And now, they would be doing the same for Lila.

Greta and Ciro had thought of admitting Lila to Francesco Morosini when she came of age, but quickly realized that she was not the Navy type and did not want to force her into it. That choice was no longer Lila’s and she would be staying at the military school where it was Ciro’s job, not only as a father, but as an administrator of the school, to keep a close eye on any problem children.

Ciro embraced Greta and then Lila before taking their bags and walking them to his car. Lila was talking at length to her father about all her friends at school, all the happenings in Paris, and even mentioned her boyfriend, Adrien Agreste.

“You would like him, Papa. He’s a model, a gentleman, and his father is the designer, Gabriel Agreste. And he treats me like a princess!” Lila gushed as she showed her father a picture of Lila kissing the blonde boy’s cheek. Greta had seen that picture and had even asked Adrien about it while they had spoken in M. Damocles office. Lila had apparently kissed him without permission when she took that picture, and then sent it to every girl in Adrien’s contact list to make it seem like they were dating.

Ciro played along, asking questions about her classes, Adrien, the akuma situation that he had heard about over the news, and other things to keep Lila from growing suspicious. Sure enough, she prattled on through the entire car and ferry ride to Venice. Only seeming to look around questioning when they arrived at the Naval school, rather than their apartment.

“What are we doing here?” She asked, looking at her father in confusion.

The two parents dropped the act and glared at their daughter in disappointment and anger. “I’m surprised at you, young lady,” Greta started. “Did you really think you could keep lying to us? We. Know. Everything.”

They watched as her olive skin quickly paled. “What do you mean? I didn’t lie, I sw-”

“We know the school never closed,” Ciro interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument or interruption. “We know about you lying to your classmates and teachers about having disabilities and diseases. We know about you changing our contact information on your school records. We know about you bullying and sexually harassing your classmates. We know about the threats you’ve made to that one girl. We know that you’ve been akumatized multiple times. We know the truth about what you really did to Roberto two years ago! WE KNOW EVERYTHING!”

With every word he said, Lila seemed to inch away from her irate parents and shrink into herself. At the same time, they saw the rage and contemplation in her eyes. She was angry at being caught and was already trying to think of a way out of trouble. Not that they would give her a chance to even try.

“But I didn’t li-”

“Lie number one, Ladybug is a useless superhero that let your school get damaged and spent months trying to deakumatize your principal, which is why you were out of school for two months.” Greta interrupted that time, pinning her daughter with a glare that she usually reserved for idiot interns who screwed up important paperwork at the embassy. “I personally spoke to your principal and looked into Ladybug. The school never closed. Ladybug and Chat Noir have always defeated the akumas and restored the damage thanks to their abilities. And you told the school that you and I were off globetrotting to places like Achu.”

Her eyes grew to the size of saucers. She was just beginning to stammer out an excuse when her father spoke over her.

“Lie number two, a girl named Marinette Dupain-Cheng has been bullying you because she is jealous of your relationship with your boyfriend, Adrien Agreste. We have seen the texts that you have sent that girl, the most recent saying,” Ciro pulled out his phone to read off of the text “‘...I’m going to ruin you in every way imaginable. No one will want to be your friend. By the time I’m done with you, I hope you kill yourself…’ Does that sound familiar to you?”

“I also personally spoke to Adrien after I spoke to Marinette, and found out that not only are you not his girlfriend, but you have been sexually harassing him! You even showed us proof in that picture you took where you kissed him!”

“But that’s not sexual harassment!” Lila shot back at them as her panic grew.

“Any unwelcome sexual advances, requests for sexual favors, and other verbal or physical conduct of a sexual nature constitutes sexual harassment. Your mother and I memorized that when you accused Roberto of assault, which is another thing you lied about! And let me guess, you wanted to use that boy’s popularity and family connections for a leg-up, but he turned down your advances since he was gay. You didn’t take that rejection well, so you told us he assaulted you. Is that what happened?”

“How did you-” Lila interrupted herself that time by slapping her hand over her mouth, quickly realizing that she had confirmed what her father had just said.

“Well, congratulations young lady. You have earned a complete overhaul on your life.”

“What do you mean?” Lila didn’t want to know, but it seemed like she had no choice but to ask.

“Your modelling contract with Gabriel is done,” Greta told her, noticing her wince since they weren’t supposed to know about that either. “I spoke with his assistant and discovered that you forged my signatures on the contracts to let you model. They were kind enough not to pursue legal action against you, but they have asked that I inform you that you have been blacklisted from the fashion industry, so that career option is completely closed off to you.”

“Your mother educated your friends at school with the truth. They know about all your lies and have kept us apprised of what you have been saying, the rumors you have been attempting to spread about going on a trip with a random music star, and were kind enough to forward that threatening message you sent to that girl, Marinette. They are no longer interested in being your ‘sheep’.”

“Not that you will be returning to that school,” Greta continued. “Your truancy has made that impossible, even if we did want you to stay there to face the consequences of your actions. Which includes paying restitution to the people you’ve hurt.”

“Paying!” Ciro and Greta watched as Lila’s right eye began to twitch as she snapped at them.

“Yes, paying. I’ve already emptied out your savings and trust fund to pay back Marinette, Adrien, and Roberto for what you’ve done to them-”

“You can’t do that! That’s my money!” She screamed, stomping her foot at her mother like a five year old throwing a tantrum.

“Money that you earned illegally modelling after forging my signature. And you are a minor, I am well within my rights to take that money to pay for the damages you have incurred. I will also be selling your laptop, tablet, mobile phone, as well as the clothes and jewelry you left in Paris. Seeing as you won’t be needing them anymore.”

As she said this, Lila clutched her phone and hugged it against her chest. “How am I supposed to talk to anyone without my phone?”

“Pen and paper, and if you need to speak with your mother, there’s my office phone or the payphone in the barracks, where you will be staying.”

The girl’s eyes grew impossibly wide as she looked at her parents in a panic. They couldn’t mean…

Ciro smiled the smile that he used to greet the families whose children were in need of discipline. “Welcome to Francesco Morosini Naval Military School, where we strive to give children an education that will help them for their future and the world that waits for them.”

~oOo~

There had been a lot of begging, crying, and screaming after that as Lila did everything she could to try and change her parents’ minds. This was a total nightmare for her. Forced to wear a uniform she hated. Surrounded by students, teachers, and her father; all of whom knew that she was a liar. No one gave her the type of attention she craved, but everyone was giving her the overly watchful attention she despised. She couldn’t even enjoy becoming an akuma anymore, as she was far out of Hawkmoth’s reach.

Greta and Ciro had gone out to dinner afterwards in an attempt to de-stress, only to get a call an hour later that Lila had tried to steal a boat and run away from the school. She was put on a 24/7 watch after that, now required to wear a tracking monitor wherever she went and was on bathroom and floor cleaning duty for the foreseeable future.

When Greta returned to Paris, she went about doing exactly as she promised. She sold Lila’s electronics, clothes, and jewelry; only keeping a pair of plastic stud earrings that her grandmother had given her. She met with M. Damocles again to let him know that everything had been taken care of. She contacted the Dupain-Cheng family to let them know that Lila wouldn’t be bothering their daughter again. That was probably the most pleasant thing she did, as they were a lovely family and sent her off with a box of assorted scones, so yummy! When she had them send a box of goodies to her husband in Venice, he called her a few days later and begged her to send more whenever she could.

Lila absolutely hated seeing her father enjoy pastries from the bakery of her rival’s family. That, along with being forced to talk to a psychiatrist three times a week to make her admit that she was a liar and to figure out why she feels the need to lie. All while wearing a horrible uniform and actually having to clean. She was in her own personal hell. How she wished that she had never gotten sick.

Taglist:

@2confused-2doanything @7-sage-7 @aadnrsstar @abrx2002 @awkwardromances @bayball @babylovebug18 @botanicalfoxx @back-cats-and-broken-mirrors @caffeinetheory @cheshire5210 @chocolateherringtacofan @city-of-all-tunas @classycollectorreviewworld @corabeth11 @chocolatechipcookiesandcamembert @darkened-flame @delightfulcookiesrecipespizza @fandom-trapped-03 @ghostmaster @iamblinkmarvelarmy @interobanginyourmom @izang @jesussavedevenme @kazedancer @kitten12113 @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @lilypotter2018 @lunataravler @ladylupuscrow @maskedpainter @miraculouslydumb @nerd-nowandforever @naruwitch @ola-is-dead @pandacatxd @plushbookworm @plz-excuse-my-inner-ravenclaw @pheonix-biach @pandora-fucking-box @raiderofthelostbooks @ramos123 @rowanrouge @rowanyx @ren121 @seesea22 @seraphichana @sashakoi @shypeacekitten @tazer6787 @that-girl-sakea @thecrazyfantrollshasmoved @the-smallest-kittenz @tishwinchesterannabethjackson @t1dwarrior-of-earth @ulmban @with-forward-motion @wonderbat91939 @zoiechance

#lila salt #lila gets exposed #lila lies #lila karma #lila bashing #mlbjustice #miraculous ladybug #lila's parents #parenting done right

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drpepperwithcream · 3 years

Text

Gang of Secrets Aftermath

Because I want it and I’m a writer so *hands you head canon post on a silver platter*

Alya hugs the absolute crap out of Marinette as she ends up sobbing into her shoulder from stress and exhaustion.

Alya is soothing Marinette, eyeing the widows, doors, and every crack an akuma could squeeze in through.

Even long after Marinette has stopped crying, they were still hugging. She took comfort in Alya’s arms around her.

“...Alya?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Alya squeezed her tighter. Marinette deserved this.

“I’ll always be here for you, Marinette. Don’t you forget that.”

They pulled apart, Marinette wiped the tear stains off her cheeks and she huffed out a small laugh.

“I’m surprised you’re taking this so well.”

“I’m holding it in. You really needed a friend.”

Marinette smiled as she braced herself. “You can let it out now.”

Alya breathed as she stood up. She went over to Marinette’s computer and pulled up a picture of Ladybug and made it fullscreen. She looked at Marinette, then to the Ladybug picture, then back to Marinette.

*inhales*

“I... I can’t believe it! My best friend! You- You’re Ladybug! How could I have not seen it? I mean I know I couldn’t have seen it, but you’re fighting Hawkmoth and saving Paris everyday!” Alya stammers. “When? Wait I know when, but how? I just- It’s been you this whole time. Everything makes since now, you being late, odd excuses, why you picked me to be Rena Rouge. I feel like my brain is exploding!”

Marinette laughed.

Alya replayed today’s events and relaxed. “But wait, Ladybug said that she’s now the guardian when she-you gave me the necklace, which makes you the guardian. What does that even mean? Actually, no don’t tell me, it’s probably incredibly important and stressful, and you’ve been having a stressful time, I don’t want to add to that.”

Marinette sighed. “No, it’s fine, it just means I have a lot of responsibility now on top of being Ladybug.” It felt so weird to say that to her best friend, but it felt like a huge weight was being lifted off her shoulders.

“I’ll help you in any and every way I can, you can count on me.”

“Thanks Alya.”

Alya goes home and marinates with this new information.

She swore on her life that she wouldn't tell a single sole this information

As she’s pacing in her room, she’s debating on completely deleting the LadyBlog.

She ends up spending hours completely reformatting the website. Taking down the “Who’s Ladybug” posts and adding a couple of mental health posts. She makes a post about giving back to Ladybug and Chat Noir by working together to figure out who Hawkmoth is.

As she’s reviewing her LadyBlog, she finds a few old videos The first one was Ladybug noticing her in a sea of reporters and commenting her on her work on the LadyBlog (The Mime episode). Marinette did that for her, and she smiled at how sweet that was of her to do.

The second video was her first actual interview with Ladybug (also Mime). She remembered how Marinette thought she deleted the first video so she stole her phone to try to recreate it, and when she couldn’t she gave her a surprise. Alya didn’t even know how she managed to convince Ladybug to give her an interview back then but now it’s obvious. Marinette is such a good friend!

The third was about Lila, talking about how Ladybug saved her and how close the two of them are. And suddenly Marinette’s hatred for Lila made sense.

“That Bit-!”

Alya deleted the video and whipped out her phone.

Mari, I am sorry for ever trying to defend Lila and that it took me this long to realize that she’s a liar.- A

Oh yeah, I couldn’t exactly tell you that I knew that she didn’t know Ladybug because I am Ladybug-M

Again, sorry for being stupid.-A

It’s okay, at least you know now-M

Dang all the lying she’s doing for attention, I almost feel bad for her-A

Alya remembered what Lila had done.

Wait no I don’t! She got you expelled and nearly akumatized by Scarlet Moth! What a lying snake!-A

She also threatened me in the bathroom that she’d make everyone turn against me if I tried to expose her and her lies and it made me so angry that I was almost akumatized by Hawkmoth -M

I’m actually going to push her down a flight of stairs! I don’t care that you have your ladybug powers, you can’t stop me!-A

Nino also messages her, noticing the website change. Alya said that she wanted to use her skill to find Hawkmoth and help Paris civilians. Nothing more.

She spends the rest of the night staying up late researching ways to control emotions and to keep anger and other strong emotions at bay. If Hawkmoth akumatizes her, it’s all over, and she’s never going to let that happen again.

Alya falls asleep thinking about Marinette being Ladybug this whole time.

And whatever hardships Marinette had to deal with, Alya was ready to give her a boost to fight it all.

Should I write more? I want to write more. I will write more.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous season 4 #marinette dupain cheng #alya cesaire #ladybug #rena rouge #miraculous ladybug season 4 #Marinette #marinette miraculous #miraculous alya #marinette and alya #ladynoir #marichat #gang of secrets #new miraculous #chat noir

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jae-canikeepyou · 3 years

Text

| into you | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

word count: 7.7k+

summary: as the uni campus’ social butterfly, it’s a given you have a lot of friends, invited to almost all gatherings and all adore you. for the latter, jaehyun does too. he’s so into you and likes how you’re his happy place. or; jaehyun— an unsocial, often misunderstood person, finds his behaviour different with you and perhaps wants to keep you for himself, not anyone else.

genre: fluff + elite!au

a/n: i’m back after a while since i’ve been so so busy! this is not proofread again and i’m sorry if there are any grammar mistakes down there :> this is not canon with “letting go” scenario in case there’s any similarities with the characters. hehe anyway i hope you all enjoy reading! ♡ ~j.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

seated at the front row in the amphitheatre-shaped lecture hall, jaehyun frustratingly put his hood back on to hide himself from those who were staring from all around. they were definitely whispering about him, hands by their lips to conceal their voices in case he heard them. he hated this much attention, all because he chose stay of out school and classes— and claimed that it didn’t interest him.

so did coming today.

but the point was his attendance for this class was on the line and his busybody parents were sick of receiving phone calls or mails that kept filling their boxes, all for the same reason; that their son could be expelled despite handing assignments.

he rolled his eyes at the heat creeping up his ears as the whispers grew louder. he slammed the thin granite table, causing everyone to flinch at the sound and his presence. “can i have some quiet?! i can hear you guys talking crap about me!” he turned around at the pairs of eyes, soon frozen like meerkats.

they ticked him off. he couldn’t stand being in the same room with people who repeatedly questioned his existence of being here. he knew that rumours were going around, that the ‘jeong jaehyun’ in high school got into an private elite university— it could be anywhere but never expected it‘d be this campus. it was written in the judgment of their faces.

“chill man,” a guy his age swung his lollipop with legs on the desk. “some are curious why you decided to show up today since first semester’s a week away from ending, while some even wonder why you got into such prestigious and elite university.”

jaehyun’s eyed him slowly from legs to head. “who are you supposed to be?” he snorted at the stranger.

“just a guy who wants to break the distraught you’re trying to start.” he kicked his legs off the desk and stood up on his suede shoes, showing off his pearly whites.

he looked at everyone whose eyes averted from the two of them. “our town’s a small neighbourhood, so everybody knows everybody. we know exactly who you are, jeong jaehyun.”

“excuse me?” he swirled his tongue that it was evident he was pissed. “careful what you accuse me of. you and i both know it’s not going to end well-”

“they’re near they’re near!” a voice echoed the hall, cutting jaehyun’s attempt to intimidate the young man any further.

and with that signal alone, jaehyun could see and observe ladies fixing their hair and make-up, while the guys gave fistbumps to those near them. he rolled his eyes at him returning the favour to them as the guy unbuttoned his collar. “what’s wrong with you?” jaehyun was utterly weirded out. “with everyone?”

the crimson-haired guy only gave a flirty grin with raised brows. “this happens everytime.“

the door swung open with the professor rushing in. the students swifted heads, it wasn’t the first time he ever was late. he was young and good-looking, and it was hard to believe he still a bachelor. he gestured someone at the door, then the held-in giggles and mumbles were soon replaced with whispers of awe, as you walked in carefully with a tower of binder folders halfly covering your view.

clearly the guys around him have been secretly admiring; some had the confidence of taking selfies even if you were far, while others took a picture with their eyes so you were marked in their memories. ladies flocked towards the flustered professor like little chicks and surrounded him.

and that’s when the comments started coming in.

“park seojoon is so hot.” “hey remember to use ‘professor’.” “i guess genes runs in the family.” “his sister is ethereal too.” “i see her weekly and y/n’s a goddess.” “y/n! are you coming to the party tonight?”

jaehyun knew who you were through social media and common friends. and he included himself part of the people who admire you. he also remembered because he bumped into you during orientation. he wouldn’t usually care about passerby’s and strangers and although that was a brief moment and short eye contact, something about you was hard to not forget. you had people and friends under a charming spell he couldn’t describe, and that was in a good way.

you tucked a strand behind your ear and became shy afterwards as they whistled and cheered towards your gesture, making you heat up a thousand degrees higher. you should be used to this but every time it happens, you were just as flustered as your brother.

jaehyun’s legs got up on its own and was surprised at himself for making his way to help you. he picked up the fallen binder files and scattered papers while the whiskers by your eyes creased up in shyness.

he hitched a breath realising that the clumsy you was adorable too.

“thank you.” a smile then appearing at the corners of your lips caused jaehyun to freeze for a while. yuta wouldn’t miss anyone’s reaction. he slid his chair close to jaehyun’s as the he came back, nudging his chair for him to give into your beauty.

“i know a person with heart eyes when i see one. now you understand why we’re whipped for y/n. isn’t she a babe- agh.” he held the back of his head from the smack.

“don’t call me that, nakamoto.” you hissed sharply with how confident and careless he could get, especially with people you weren’t familiar with. you looked at the guy in a black sweater and let out an embarrassed sigh. “i’m sorry about my annoying best friend. yuta tends to be chatty when he feels lonely.” you winked at him.

it was jaehyun’s turn to flash short chuckle, its faint sounds perked not only your ears, but yuta’s as well. “not a problem. i know a lonely person when i see one.” jaehyun emphasised through his gaze.

“i’m not lonely! i have y/n and my men!” he whined and turned towards you. “see what you did y/n?”

“it’s good to finally see you, jeong jaehyun.” you ignored yuta and brought out a hand for a greeting.

you pursed your lips to stifle a laugh, jaehyun’s ears quickly turned from pink to red. he gulped loudly and took your hand in his, eyebrows lifting at how you knew his name.

lost for words and you both locked eyes where he forgot to let your hands go. “we take the same course together? i know your name because you’re the only one missing from the class-” you said, shaking his hands to subtly let him know it had been a minute since your hands felt his vainey flesh.

“okay young lad that’s enough time holding my sister.” seojoon separated your hands and jaehyun snapped out of his admiration, inhaling quite stressfully with how stupid he looked. “get to your class y/n.”

“alright, i’ll see you at tea hour.” you waved at the boys.

“as long as you’re treating i’ll go.” yuta hummed in a monotonous voice, fixing his laces that went untied.

“i’m not talking to you dimwit.” you flicked his forehead, leading to your satisfaction of the nut-like sound from it. “jaehyun, because you missed yesterday’s class, prof assigned me to assist you, along with the other topics you’ve yet to cover. i’ll be expecting you at the café near campus.”

before you stepped out of the hall, yuta pulled your sweater, yanking you back. “are you going to taeyong’s party tonight? you never miss an event!”

you puckered your lips, pinching his cheeks that a cute gummy smile came out from it. “you know my rules. as long as you’re driving me home, i’ll go. see you later.”

jaehyun nodded yet was still in a daze. he realised what you said when yuta pushed him. “gross. don’t act as if we’re already close.”

“hm? was i really? i think it’s normal when you’re making a move on my best friend.” he brought out his laptop and typed his password.

i wasn’t. “whatever.”

and to say that jaehyun didn’t feel butterflies flying uncontrollably in his stomach would be an understatement. they made the intestine churn in ways he couldn’t imagine, and he himself wanted to deny that what he was feeling was just from the influence of others. but wouldn’t that mean his feelings were temporary? because if it were, he should perceive you an ordinary person.

yet here he was outside, still admiring you before he entered the café. he found it was amusing of how oblivious you were of his presence— you were too immersed into this assigned task by professor, but others found it funnier when jaehyun looked stupidly in-love and cowardly the lad looked, despite having the overall aura of a stuck-up.

as the sun’s rays brightened the city and the wind’s breeze made the trees leaves dance, only then had you raise your head to see jaehyun waving at you. ten minutes early, not bad for an actual first impression. “hey,” he greeted, making you smile with his low but gentle voice. “am i late?”

you took your bag from across and asked him to sit down. “no no. you’re just in time, it’s really nice to have an early bird around.”

his dimples deepened at the compliment. “how about the project? is it too late? you think i can still catch up?” jaehyun cleared his throat.

“that depends on your dedication. based on the record professor gets, you’ve been doing your tasks and homework quite diligently. he’s just worried about your habit of not attending his lectures might lead to procrastination when second semester starts.” you gave him a slice of cheesecake to eat. “he’s still teaching us another subject.”

“it’s quite the contrary.” he dove in for the dessert. “i don’t have the will to procrastinate at all.”

“then good.” you twisted the pen in your fingers. “let’s get started?”

for that span of two hours, how he wished it could be more. who knew you would have a lot of things in common with him? that time alone was not enough to talk about vinyl and jazz singers and pretty much everything that were overlooked by people. he brought up his favourite spots in the city and how they became a safe haven to escape the reality.

to cut the explaining short, his shell slowly started to open, bits and new things were showing. if you were surprised he was a good person, jaehyun himself couldn’t believe he was able to converse with people normally. being the awkward and shy type, doing this almost seemed impossible.

was it your magic that caused him to do so?

you learnt that jaehyun was rather special and by special it meant he had gifts that you believed were way beyond human limits. he never studied in a library, rewatched lectures or written his notes. and the professor mentioned how jaehyun received good grades in most of the things he submitted.

to be very honest, you were a little jealous. from how he was sitting in front of you, he didn’t seem to be interested but was definitely listening. and you sort of gave up in continuing anyway. “i don’t understand why i’m told i need to guide you when you’ve already caught up with everything.” you let out a soft chuckle that seemed more of a question.

“i was waiting for you to stop..” jaehyun said quite blatantly and stretched his arms and you were hurt because if he didn’t want to, he could’ve said so. heck, even more so, he shouldn’t have come here and wasted time-

“..because it looked like you were forced to do this by prof.” his smile then faded seeing you mirror the same. “are you alright? you’re a little pale..”

your eyes widened. “oh uh, sorry, i assumed-” you sputtered and probably died inside with what he said. you cursed in your mind. dammit y/n.

jaehyun raised his brows, making you more flustered and panicky. you sighed and waved your ‘its-nothing’ hand. “assumed that i’m brusque and a stuck-up?”

he pierced his eyes at you and you weren’t going to lie, he scared you a bit. but that fear immediately disappeared when a gentle giggle and adorable dimples replaced it. “i get that a lot, but don’t worry. i’m different from what people think. they think i’m not friendly, a-and a loner too.”

“you’re not.” he heard you counter him, slightly slamming the fork down. “if you were, you wouldn’t be here with me. or even bothered to come.”

his heart became warm through your words, that act of kindness torn down his walls of inferiority and his perception towards people changed. “thanks.” he checked the time on his watch and twisted his wrist to show to you. “don’t you have a party to attend to?”

“lee taeyong’s?” you stood up to leave the café. “i feel like skipping it for tonight. i’m not in the mood for parties somehow.”

“because i’m a better company for you?” jaehyun teased and boy was he proud with his remark, you didn’t even deny it. “you don’t have to go if you really don’t want to. it’s better to have time for yourself sometimes.”

“you’re saying from experience?” you asked, putting pressure on your words about his claim of being alone.

“it’s more of an advice for you.” he winked.

you thought he was quite observant even though he barely socialised with others. he noticed the light in your eyes sparkling, in which he felt his chest squeeze. you twirled in your toes as you hugged your laptop. “say.. are you up for a movie marathon?”

—

including now, it’d be the fourth time you both have rewind the specific scene just for that certain song jaehyun kept singing nonstop. and although you loved his voice, having the song on replay would be a little too much and the purpose of the marathon might go in vain. it seemed jaehyun was way into it, so interrupting him would be mean of you so you sang along.

“the nostalgia still hits me ‘til this day.” jaehyun tossed a bag of chips from your kitchen island to you.

jaehyun kept saying it may sound stupid and corny coming from him, but as a child he liked the whole high school musical series; and he pretty much became one when breaking free started to play.

because you both couldn’t decide where to watch the beloved movies by everyone, the marathon ended up being at your apartment. it was subtle, yet quite obvious to you he didn’t want it to be held in his place. you thanked your psychology course for giving lessons to notice even the little things in behaviour.

“how many times do i have to keep telling you it’s okay to like it? not like anyone would tease you for it.” you giggled as you opened the bag and popped a couple of chips into your mouth.

“yeah sure, but i know you would.” he squinted his eyes for you to admit that that was your plan eventually.

“have i?” you singsonged, sipping on the large cola cup.

he pointed at the hairbrush you held and suddenly you bursted out in laughter since jaehyun was obviously— maybe a little— offended with how you mimicked him singing earlier. “okay you caught me.”

jaehyun felt his entire body heating up. still in denial about actually being into you, he took a challenge upon himself and scooted next to you. his arms slightly brushed and touched against yours. “you in for hsm 2?”

“well we are having a marathon, might as well go for camp rock later.” you shrugged and eyed him with a confirming gaze.

“uh-huh.. but i’m still a fan of the trilogy.” jaehyun stole the chips in your hands.

“now aren’t you cheeky.” you gasped at his playful behaviour, and you didn’t dislike it. perhaps you prefer this naught over yuta’s as it didn’t get into your nerves or have the urge to hit him because of the hyperness.

he sat deeper into the beanbag. “i’m comfortable in here. your house feels too homey.”

“so is it my fault that you’re in your comfort zone?” you stated, taking the bag of chips back into your arms.

“yes.” he protested with frequent waves of his palms. “you’re too kind and i might come here to visit often.”

“suit yourself.”

since he arrived here it had him wondering, why did he decide to show up today at campus when there was actually a pure human being like you? he just needed a person— just one— to knock onto his heart. yet with many people in his life trying to do the same thing, none held the correct key. and somehow,

it had to be you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you’ve lost count of the number of times jaehyun has been hanging at your crib since then. it became a normal routine but never have you been to his place. it was always yours and you didn’t mind that. though he did promise, you respected his decision.

you found out he could be little dorky and corny but that was the unique trait about him. like friends at kindergarten, you both were still at a get-to-know-each-other stage. so that day, he created a schedule where he would hang out with you on wednesdays and fridays, claiming that he didn’t want to be seen by others, e.g. mr. nobody with ms. golden girl.

however, since then, people close to you have been looking at you rather differently. it wasn’t because they sometimes see jaehyun following you around, they sensed a different aura from you. you could feel their piercing stares from all directions, as if you were the centerpiece of a watch. there was something a little different than usual.

and you tried to ignore this ominous feeling for now.

yuta shook his legs vigorously, in which was an unsightly act to see for someone on the soccer team. you could see him from afar with his hands by his lips, biting it as he waited for your arrival at the university’s sports ground. jaehyun jogged towards you with his bag slung diagonally across his torso. he poked your neck and as a person with severe tickle spots, that caught you off guard into a fight-me position to the doer.

“chill, it’s just me.” jaehyun had both of his hands up, whiskers appearing just by the sides of his nose.

“jaehyun!” you relaxed your limbs. “got a better way of greeting? i don’t like being surprised.” you pulled the hem of his sleeve, missing how he pursed his lips in glee when you both instantly became close, like it was overnight.

he let you grab him as you both walked towards where yuta was standing by the bleachers. “i’m sorry?” he giggled loud enough only for you to hear. “i thought i’d get a priceless reaction from you.”

you rolled your eyes that it almost hurt doing so. “be glad i have enough patience for you.”

“and i didn’t have enough patience last night!” yuta joined the conversation seeing you and jaehyun before him. “where have you been? you said you were coming to my place yesterda- why is he here?” he looked at him then at you. “with you? again?”

“ever thought that i want to have my own ‘me’ time for once?” you took off your cardigan and placed it on the bleachers. you could feel jaehyun chuckling softly when you made reference to his remark.

and boy was he proud. “you’re emphasising on that quite often nowadays.” he helped you carry your bag as you to settled down.

“that’s because i never realised how true it actually is until i say it out loud, since being in everyone’s eyes does pressure me.” you balled your fists to nudge him lightly on the arm, and for him to dramatically receive the attack did put yuta in an awkward position.

“uh hello? i’m still here!” in front of you and jaehyun, yuta snapped his fingers several times to divert attention. “what’s going on with you two? how are you both suddenly so close when you’ve just met for the first time two weeks ago?”

jaehyun swifted his head towards you, and the telepathic exchange of words between you and him had yuta clicking his tongue in disbelief. “you were right, he will react.” jaehyun’s voice prolonged while munching on a corn dog.

“told you so.” you flicked your hair and turned to yuta as you continued talking. “bestie, we’ve been seeing each other since then.”

what the hell? the way yuta’s face turn sour at your smile towards jaehyun, he could almost faint right then and there since he swore he saw mr. dimples smile subtly at you too. “and with just that i’ve been replaced-”

“no i would never replace my best friend.” you held his palms hoping he would calm down from his high emotions, but he immediately pulled his hand away from you, much to your dismay. “hey, i’m here to make amends-”

“yeah?” he clicked on a pen and wrote something on a tissue, soon grabbing your bag from the seat and fished out your wallet. “then you’re treating me my meals for a month. i have another order right now.”

now it was your turn whose face became sour. “a month?! i can’t do that- hey!”

yuta tossed your credit card up in the air and upon seeing his eyes darken— though that was all in your head—you gave in and sighed heavily. you stomped your way to the caféteria while yuta comfortably put one leg on the benches with a satisfied grin. “man she’s easy to tease.”

“is that so? then i know now who she gets it from.” jaehyun said through his chews on his food, making yuta’s ears perk up at the response.

the atmosphere lingering between the two of them invited dark clouds. both could sense the change in their moods, and they both weren’t liking it.

yuta spun and played the ball on his hands then forearms, later let out a scoff when jaehyun raised his brows. he didn’t like the vibe jaehyun was giving and so did the latter. “i do it for fun. it’s natural between us.” yuta said.

“hm? she told me she doesn’t like it when you do.” he saw you on your tiptoes as you struggled to tell the order to the person at the high-levelled counter. but another scoff came out from yuta. “you got a proble-?”

“yeah kinda.”

“i don’t think so. i can tell it really bothers you when y/n hangs out with me.” jaehyun sat up straight at yuta’s comment about him.

“i should be. because i’m her best friend and who knows what type of person you are.” he did a few tricks with his legs. “but if you really want to know then your attitude is what i have problems with.”

“i remember telling you it wouldn’t be good for you when accuse me wrongly.”

he let out a monotonous and rather mocking laugh, taking jaehyun aback but he anticipated this kind of response from him. “and what? you’ll go berserk like you did years ago? as a high school freshman? beating the innocent up or whoever comes your way?”

“look i don’t know where the hell that came from but it’s not what you or everyone else thinks.” jaehyun aggressively crumpled the hotdog wrapper in his palms.

“c’mon you don’t have to hold it all in,” yuta set his ball aside and rested his hands on his waist. jaehyun was getting uncomfortable the more he listened to him. “unleash that side-”

jaehyun rolled his tongue, nodding his head to test him. “alright, i guess i don’t have to when i have feelings for y/n. thanks for the advice.”

what the..? yuta stared at him when there wasn’t a change in his expression. jerk- “now you’re talking. you wanna fight? let’s do that-”

“tsk yuta! the bill’s too expensive!” you whined and gently put down the tray.

while yuta clicked his tongue at your sudden entry and with how quickly you came back, for a moment jaehyun wanted to hug you for being his saviour. he was so close to lose his temper towards your best friend. the relief seen in his tensed shoulders, but you interpreted it otherwise. “are you okay?” you asked while you sat down beside him.

he hummed, folding his arms and looking at the distance, clearly avoiding eye contact with yuta. “mhm, i just realised the deadline is coming up in three days.” he excused.

you managed to utter out a giggle as you finally ate, finding out how jaehyun’s ears always turned red when given attention to. “you’re stressed about it?”

“aren’t you?” jaehyun drank the remains of his soda.

“not really since i finished mine. but, if you’re worried about your progress, i can help you.” you swirled the fork in the air like a wand. jaehyun smiled to himself when yuta took his ball to throw a fit.

“i’m not worried about the project. but there’s an annoying bug i’m trying to hit so help me.” jaehyun’s dimples appeared deeply again and as the darkening ombré sunset shoned his side profile, there you witnessed how pure he actually was— and you missed out on yuta’s frown towards jaehyun.

you gulped and almost choked on your own saliva, eyes still locked in jaehyun’s. his hair caught in the wind, making it look fluffy and his entire demeanour softer than you usually see him. you hitched a breath since jaehyun seemed like he had no plans to avert his gaze too. both of you were definely mesmerised and hypnotised, and for jaehyun it was just like that time. he remembered the colour palette of your makeup while you recalled the perfume he wore.

in the recent marathons with him you’ve never been this close, physically speaking. so this close-up really debunked the impression you heard from people, especially from yuta.

however, as you were oblivious with the pressure behind jaehyun’s words and even smiled back at him, yuta flicked your temple. he was indeed a worry wart and sometimes he would like to flick you just this once for being too much of a social butterfly. he knew it was in your nature to be kind and always on the look out for others. he’s fine when you were with anyone except with this guy you befriended. not him.

he dodged your flying limbs in attempts to hit him. “oi, you’re not going to ask how i am? if i’m worried?”

the pain from the flick remained on your temple. “no? you look fine to me-” you stared at your phone. the message reminding you of the singles elite party a month from today at 8pm. “a party?”

“yeah if you attended the previous party you’d know that there’ll be another one after taeyong’s.” yuta took off his shoes in change for his casual.

“hm. i’m don’t feel like going.” you jumped off the bleachers to dust off your pants. “probably gonna be boring.”

“i’m the one who’s holding it this time!” yuta put you under a headlock in his arms. “you’re ditching your best friend?!”

you giggled and ticked his sides and followed it with a playful hug. “just kidding. i heard from momo! i’ll be there.” you brushed your hair up into a messy bun while spotting jaehyun starting to feel out of place. “oh! do you wanna come to the party, jae?”

yuta mentally facepalmed and it was given he didn’t like what you did. but your eyes were quick to see his reaction and you slapped his chest. he glared at you while his hands caressed it. why did you have to invite him? it was the whole purpose why he decided to hold a party; maybe you’d finally appreciate his hardwork, or perhaps, notice him as someone more and as not a best friend who only worries and teases you.

jaehyun nodded in response, no words needed. a smile crept your lips as if you were given chocolates on valentine’s. “cool.” you pulled him on the wrist after hearing the coach calling yuta, followed with a loud whistle. “ah yuta, we‘ll get going! see you.”

“mm yeah..” yuta hummed, seeing you both vanish in the distance. “see you..”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

your sulking self laid sideways by jaehyun’s lap, head rested on a pillow. it’s been too long since yuta avoided you, purposely ditched your hangouts, seenzoned your messages and ignored your calls. as if these weren’t obvious enough for you to know something was up. there definitely was but you couldn’t put a finger to it. so you forced jaehyun to let you stay at his place, being it your apartment was currently invaded by your brother’s friends from abroad.

but honestly it was also because you discovered jaehyun’s unit was blocks away from yours. fate was gladly on your side.

“y/n, you know i can’t work properly when you’re like this.” jaehyun sighed while he adjusted his sitting posture and lifting his laptop.

you slightly and lazily your body turned upright, seeing his dimples beginning to show themselves. “let me be.” you complained.

jaehyun put down his laptop. “i can’t. you’re in my way of cramming hours. plus, how long have you been coming here? it’s getting too frequent..” he paused when your eyes were no longer on him— rather they were on your phone, staring at the last conversation from yuta.

he couldn’t bring himself to say that he was reason why yuta acting the way he was to you. and for all honesty he would keep this matter to himself. “did i do something wrong?” you asked.

“of course not. he’s probably in his emo phase. guys have them a lot more than you think.” jaehyun typed on the keyboard for the remaining parts of the essay. “but he’ll get out of it eventually.”

“fine i’ll trust on that.” you sat up and scooted over to see his progress. you submitted your assignment hours ago. looking at jaehyun, it seemed he was struggling at some parts. were you unconsciously pressuring him? the beads of sweat began to roll down his temples and that made you giggle if it was the case. uh-huh. he was really feeling that way.

he gulped so loudly that it came out as a weird noise. he hoped you didn’t hear that. but the way you pursed your lips to hold the laughter in only had him discontinuing his report. “d-don’t do that.”

“do what?” you snicker.

jaehyun rolled his eyes and poked your forehead. “you’re too distracting.”

oh how the tables have turned. that comment flipped your head upside down, your heart in a frenzy and stomach churning. it wasn’t “so”, but “too”— that only meant he wasn’t concentrating on his work for a while.

even so, you waited for him to finish despite questionable feelings you’ve been feeling. his coffee cup already did seconds and thirds. and suddenly you remembered the happy hour the local café was promoting and there was a few minutes left until it ends for the day. you had to bring him there.

but you decided that because you wanted to be out of that suffocating air jaehyun caused.

—

the more you walked faster, the more jaehyun’s wrist reddened and hurt. but he let you be as he liked how you were comfortable with someone like him. your hair flowed with the wind, the remains of your shampoo left a sweet scent. was it lavender? and the wind blew stronger, making the scent clearer to the nose. his heart skipped beats, because it was indeed lavender. he swore in his head. scrap aside the frequent marathons and meet-ups. lavender’s all the more reason why fell for you quickly than ever.

and when the local café closed early for the day, you almost lost sight of the pedestrian signs. jaehyun pulled you in as the light emitted red. though you had your emotions get the best of you, you realised how childish you were for something so minor. you laughed in awkwardness, he did too. “i didn’t want anyone to see this side-”

warmth. that was all you thought of right there. you were in his embrace.

“..of me.” you soon mumbled in his chest, realising later of the action he just did. “jaehyun-”

“it’s okay. i don’t too.” his hand gently caressed the back of your head, treating it with care as if he held a newborn baby. “so can i keep you?”

that warmth became hotter, almost boiling that you weren’t able to breathe properly. “i’m sorry.” he said, that must’ve surprised you.” jaehyun chuckled.

surprised? of course you were. how was it natural for him to do skinship? and that smoothly? you both weren’t at that stage yet, let alone have a relationship with mutual feelings. even yuta couldn’t hug you because of how conscious you felt.

but then again, you looked up. you saw his ears. it was red, the usual reaction whenever you were with him. was it normal though? you were never aware of it up until now.

because it was so clear now.

“i’ll see you tomorrow? i have to help my mom with some things.” you lied as you scratched your neck.

jaehyun nodded and pulled away. “alright, go on ahead.”

you poked his dimples because he has been staring at you like he had questions to ask. “what is it?”

maybe he didn’t notice or maybe he did, but he was leaning closer, his head tilting to the side and eyes staring into your soul. you knew what he was about to do, you feel like letting him do so but at the same time you weren’t sure of your feelings.

just a little more and you could’ve locked lips but..

your phone vibrated.

in panic you looked at your device and eyes widened that brought jaehyun aback.

“ah yuta!” you brought your phone so close to your face, not believing your best friend’s announcement on social media, in which he then followed up with a text message.

the light in your eyes was something jaehyun liked seeing, but didn’t so as well.

“oh! he said the concept for the elites’ party is live wardrobe. all singles will go through a ballot draw. it’s for the clothes to wear for the night..” you locked your phone. “tsk i wanted to wear my favourite dress.”

“i think you’ll look great in whatever gown is chosen for you.” jaehyun pat your head while you were immersed in your phone. “now go. it’s getting late.”

“i’ll expect the same for you.” you replied.

he laughed and that didn’t want to make you leave just yet. “nah don’t. i’m just ordinary in a suit.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

funny how he was so damn wrong.

fate let him draw red, and confidently chose a suit once it was his turn to change. it was as if he knew this attire would go well with him. a suede texture with a black outline on its collar accentuated his brushed up light brown hair, while his black under-shirt contrasted with his porcelain skin. gladly it wasn’t halloween, or else you would’ve mistaken him for a vampire.

he had you feeling all sorts of things, and you didn’t know why when you were nothing more than friends.

an hour ago he was in his usual casual wear. now he was surrounded with ladies who already seemed like they were friends with him for decades. you could see jaehyun was uncomfortable but he kept his cool with folded arms as he leaned against a column. the comments from them irritated you, because at one point they were badmouthing him— and the second he showed up they flooded him with compliments of his good looks and how they named him the “model elite”.

you swirled the wine glass in your hand, the other arm hugged your waist. you rolled your eyes at the falseness these people have towards him. “can’t believe it.” your fingers curled as irritation began to cover your sight. “look at them trying to make a move on him. erlgh too close. they weren’t like that before.”

sicheng rolled his tongue, hands in pockets and walked to be in front of you. “really? you weren’t like that before too.” he pointed out.

“i agree. recently you’re stuck like glue whenever you’re with him.” yuta gestured.

“am so not?” you gasped while your eyes trailed to jaehyun, who was still had patience for the ladies surrounding him. “i just like how he’s a good friend.”

“doubt it.” sicheng poked your cheek. “you wouldn’t feel like this when you have feeli-”

not this again. “i’m grabbing a drink.” yuta suddenly cut the conversation.

“get me one too!” the younger one yelled and after he was satisfied with the gesture, he winced as you pinched his sides from the remark he said earlier. “ow! y/n! it’s true though! i know what i’m seeing!”

truthfully, nothing about sicheng’s words or actions bothered you. but if there was anything that did, it was your own heart. as of tonight, you began to question your feelings towards jaehyun. when did it start? how was it possible to like someone so quickly? “i’m telling you i don’t.” your eyes trailed to him, not realising the rush of heat creeping your cheeks.

jaehyun was approached by yuta, who was giving him a glass of beer. the ladies fled after stealing pictures of the guy and he took the drink in his hands. then they headed towards the garden of the mansion. wonder what he’s here for?

“nice party you have here. concept’s cool.” jaehyun started to break the lingering silence because he knew how awkward this was going to be with your best friend.

“yeah, never knew you’d end up in red. it’s y/n’s favourite colour.” yuta’s voice lowered. there was an impact jaehyun could describe but assuming that would be too rude of him.

“really? i didn’t know.” he hummed. aren’t you a little too happy, jaehyun told himself. he shook it off, for he doesn’t expect him and you to go any further than this.

“now you do. so can you back up for a while? take a week off or something from y/n.” yuta raised his brows.

this was the same feeling from before. he knew this feeling because he felt the exact same way. he wanted to be selfish for once. not like he hated yuta, it was just.. he always had to appear whenever he didn’t want him to. then he would mess his mood. he interrupted his joy of admiring you. jaehyun licked his lips to dampen them. “i’m sorry, who are you to tell me what to do?”

yuta grinned and leaned against the column as he mirrored jaehyun. “don’t you get it?” he asked, his tone rising. “i love y/n. you entering the picture just ruins everything.”

my hunch’s correct. he does love y/n. “if you love her you wouldn’t ignore her.”

“it’s because you’re with her! and she does the same to me! it’s like she’s found someone else-”

“you’re being dramatic.” jaehyun pushed himself off the column and turned to him. “y/n’s sad and moping around because you treated her like she’s all alone. you have no idea how much she waited for you to contact her.”

“what do you know, smartass? you’re just another guy trying to fit in when you know you couldn’t. no matter how much you tried, everyone’s afraid of you. and now you’re telling me you have feelings for y/n? please.” his lips jutted with sounds of disbelief while his body posture challenged jaehyun. “y/n’s kind to everyone she meets. it’s who she is. but to think you have hope to be with someone like her? if you ask me, all i see is a greatest mismatch.”

jaehyun usually didn’t give a damn of the comments about him. he couldn’t care less of any of those. in fact he’d hear them through one ear and out they went. but when he said anything, it irked him.

you see, that was the thing— right now, he actually listened.

he turned a blind eye on yuta’s words and let it off for the night. he was given a drink and maybe the alcohol didn’t work its way on him than it did to guy. in the end, yuta was probably spilling tea even if he didn’t intend to.

“what i feel for y/n has nothing to do with you. just like people can’t control the tides,” jaehyun lightly knocked onto yuta’s chest. “i can’t control mine.”

the footsteps echoed in yuta’s ears, he could hear them despite the noisy hall. “rghhh!” he grabbed hold of his glass and threw it towards jaehyun.

sounds of shattering glass met the ground, as well as catching everyone’s attention. then there was silence. jaehyun began to lose his patience as he turned around. his smirk challenged him. ouch. this was the fight yuta was looking for, seeing jaehyun’s heavy breaths only made him stand on his toes.

jaehyun punched him in the jaw though he knew it wasn’t worth his time. but he wanted to give him a taste of stepping beyond boundaries. yuta punched him back too. he made sure the star of the night was the other— shone the brightest and reveal his true nature. he didn’t count the number of hits he received, as long as jaehyun stayed that way.

“i told you it wouldn’t be good if you provoked me!” jaehyun growled. “you’re asking for show? i’ll give you one!”

“huh..” yuta wiped his bleeding lip. “you sure about that, beast?”

jaehyun held himself for the next punch, feeling all of the pairs of eyes on him. yours included. that was what he feared. “aw. what impression does she have on you now?” yuta’s cooing words caused jaehyun’s eyes to soften.

all bleeding and bruised, jaehyun’s injuries have matched with his suit. he clenched his fists as he frustratingly left the hall.

in your peripheral, your eyes trailed his direction and your legs followed him by heart, without realising yuta calling out your name several times. everything went blank, not thinking things straight because while everyone watched, no one understood. you glared at yuta before heading outside, a more disappointed sigh was the only response he got from you.

yuta was then nudged by sicheng. the latter could see the change in his expression. “what did i tell you?”

“you don’t have to tell me.” yuta dusted his pants.

“i’m still gonna.” sicheng rolled his eyes and poked the lad’s temple. “that’s what you call ‘stupidity’. if only you confessed to her before maybe things would be different between you guys.”

“i don’t want things to be different dude.”

“i’m gonna state the obvious, you probably already know this but.. you lost this battle.”

“crap..” yuta’s voice changed from a nervous chuckle to a soft sob. “i liked her first.”

you spotted jaehyun sitting atop a metal barrier just in front of the carpark— head down to mend his injuries and scratches. he sniffed from the cool night breeze before hopping off. “you’ll hurt your feet.” he pointed at the heels you had dangling in your hands.

his gaze softened when you pointed at his face, especially the black eye. “touché.” he chuckled, later feeling your cold hands against his throbbing flesh. “it’s no big deal-”

“i’m sorry about yuta’s behaviour.” you sighed. “don’t let it get into you. he’s an airhead when he’s drunk-”

“you sure? he seemed pretty sober when he said- ah.” he pursed his lips to speak any further. “nevermind.”

now that gotten you curious. “what did he say? spill it!” you whined, causing jaehyun mouth to curve a little in amusement.

jaehyun prolonged the silence and grabbed your shoes, leading you towards his car. once he unlocked it and opened the door, he bursted out in a loud, healthy laugh. “he said he was head over heels for you.”

you pushed him to the driver’s seat and slammed the door, rolling your eyes at the pun. “that was so lame!” you sat on the other side. “but i know that already if you thought i didn’t. i subtly turned him down ages ago. guess he didn’t take the message.”

“clearly.”

as you tended to his wounds, one question still had your curiosity at its peak. jaehyun was quiet through-out, so it was hard to bring the topic up for a while. until your eyes and his met.

“what did you tell him before he threw the glass at you?” you dabbed the cotton onto the beaten area. “it must’ve pissed him.”

he dropped his car keys and let out a nervous hum. “uh..” he didn’t know what else to say. right when he was finally about to tell you, you suddenly giggled.

“unless you told him you like me and that made him angry, but i doubt that happened.” your lips shrank to a circle, cursing at yourself for assuming too much. girl the guts you have was incomparable—

jaehyun’s large hand held yours while you continued to apply medication. the warmth, the heat and the building tension of skinship made you weak. “you’re right.”

your smile and breaths changed in an instant when he fixed himself on the seat. he smirked a little, finding how cute you were. it drove him crazy.

“i like you, for the longest time, since the orientation. i’m so into you that i couldn’t help myself be selfish and have you to myself— i- i don’t know what i’m saying.” he sighed, pushing himself away in embarrassment with arms above his face.

“t-thanks.” you fiddled with your fingers.

“i’m not asking for an answer. i just wanted to let you know.” he said. “gosh this is a bad timing for confession.”

“then is it a bad timing if i said i’m into you too?” you looked away and out in the distance. you could see his reaction on the window’s reflection. he was shocked, but an uncontrollable smile was forcing itself on the surface. it was written in the dimples.

“no,” his husky voice called you to look back. “you’re just about right.”

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