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retrievablememories · 3 years

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stuck with you | yoongi

title: stuck with you pairing: yoongi x reader, taehyung and jimin as side characters genre: fluff request: “Can you do a idol!Min Yoongi of BTS request of his crush being best friends with Jimin and Taehyung and him and his crush consistently fluster the other but they never realize until one day he does and finally make as move despite everyone telling them for weeks that they like each other?” word count: 3.3k warnings: some cursing, mentions of the pandemic a/n: i’ve been actively avoiding writing anything concerning the pandemic/lockdown cuz let’s be real, we’re all here to have fun, not think about real-life shit...but i decided to try it here

i wasn’t sure how to write their living arrangements tho since most of them seem to have their own places? so i just used the hannam the hill house for reference 🤪

“How have things been for you guys lately?”

Taehyung and Jimin exchange skeptical looks with each other, which you don’t catch because you’re too busy picking over your food.

“We’ve all been stuck in the same damn place for weeks now, so you tell me.” Taehyung chuckles, shaking his head.

You visiting their house right before the stay-at-home mandate was issued ended up with the three of you—plus Yoongi, to your luck—being cooped up in the same house for almost two weeks now. It wasn’t wholly a bad thing, since you got to be with your two best friends, but living with three men was pretty much as messy as you’d expected it to be. “Wow. Never thought we’d run out of things to talk about.”

Jimin tries to humor you. “Things have been fine, you know...same as always. Except for Yoongi-hyung acting like a lovesick weirdo. But you wouldn’t know about that, would you…?” Jimin feigns an innocent look.

You look up from your plate. “A lovesick weirdo for who?”

“We’ve been through this like 20 times already, Y/N,” Jimin sighs.

“Yes, and every time I tell you you must have the wrong person because that makes no sense whatsoever.”

“He’s lovesick over you,” Taehyung reiterates, like you didn’t catch the gist the first time around.

“I don’t think Yoongi likes me.” You shake your head and make a face at the notion of it, trying to disguise your irritation at them constantly trying to provoke your emotions.

“Why not? There’s a lot to like about you, don’t downgrade yourself.” Jimin insists.

“He doesn’t even act like he does. If anything, he gets all odd around me.”

“That’s just how he is,” Taehyung says, leaning back in his chair. “You’d think you’d start to catch onto this after being here for so long, but…”

“No, she’s too busy being too embarrassed and intimidated to even get within 4 meters of him.” Jimin and Taehyung both giggle at that, and you shake your head.

“You guys are like little schoolkids. How many more big tales are you going to think up before our quarantine lifts? You could probably write a book by the end.”

Taehyung shrugs, putting his arms behind his head. “I might do that, as long as you let me make you and hyung the star-crossed lovers who are too dumb to tell each other how they feel.” He stretches his leg under the table to nudge your shin with his toes, knowing how you hate when he puts his bare feet on you, and he cackles when you protest loudly.

“Will you stop trying to get my hopes up for nothing—?”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Yoongi steps out onto the terrace with the three of you a few minutes later. He shields his eyes against the sun’s sudden brightness after he slides open the glass door, holding his other arm up.

“Look who’s appeared!” Jimin says excitedly, his eyes glittering with enthusiasm.

“You’re loud,” Yoongi grumbles, though he’s mostly speaking to Taehyung and Jimin. “I can hear you laughing from downstairs.” Your body tenses up and melts all at the same time, and suddenly you feel like you don’t know how to do anything right—like hold your chopsticks correctly. They shoot out of your hand when you try to use them again and hit the patio floor. You look at them forlornly.

“You good?” Yoongi asks, a smile fluttering across his lips at your clumsy actions.

“Uh, yeah I’m fine.” You can only glance back at him, embarrassed that you’ve made yourself look like a clown. Jimin laughs like he’s just witnessed the funniest thing on Earth. You shake your head and push away from the table, wanting—no, needing—a quick exit. “I’ll just find some more of those…”

Jimin shakes himself free of his sudden bout of laughter and jumps at the opportunity. “Wait, I’ll get them for you.” He bolts up from the chair before you can even think about it and goes back into the house, already planning to take his sweet time on his mission to get you new chopsticks. Taehyung picks up the hint almost instantly.

Yoongi turns back to the doorway after Jimin disappears through it, his movements a few beats too late—as if he’s just now realizing the other man left. “What was that about—”

“Oh shit!” Taehyung’s exclamation cuts into Yoongi’s question. In a sweeping motion, Taehyung “accidentally” elbows your water off the table, sending the bottle splashing out onto the patio in sad little streams. You jerk away from the splash, but the water droplets have already gotten you.

“What the hell?!”

Taehyung shrugs like it was inevitable and gives a sheepish smile. There’s an undeniable scheme lingering in his eyes, though. “Looks like I’ll have to get you another one.” He stands up to get your aforementioned water, though you begin to form the idea that you’re not getting any water at all.

You sigh and rub your fingers across your forehead. The heat of the sun has turned from pleasant to uncomfortable, and you don’t even have your water to take the edge off. Great.

Yoongi turns back to you, his eyebrows creased. “That was weird.”

“They’re just trying to…” Force us together? You’re too embarrassed to say anything like that, and your words trail off in a stammer. Why did they ever think this would be a good idea? Yoongi raises his eyebrows in curiosity at your bitten-off answer. “An-anyway, that doesn’t matter. So...what are you doing out here?”

Yoongi shrugs, smirking slightly. “Well, I do live here.”

You snort to cover the way your stomach cuts a flip at his smirk, and you reach for your food in a nervous gesture before you remember your chopsticks are still gone. “You sorta seem like a vampire, though. I’m surprised you came out to get some sun.”

Yoongi mulls over that thought. “Hmm…a vampire, huh?” He runs a hand through his pitch-black hair, and even though the gesture is just an afterthought, it makes your heart skip a beat. You almost want to roll your eyes at your reaction to that simple movement. “Don’t tell me you were one of those obsessive Twilight fans over a decade ago.”

“And if I was?”

“Would you enjoy being bitten by a vampire?” Yoongi regrets it as soon as he says it, and you ducking your head into your hands doesn’t help the flaming embarrassment. “Fuck, that was stupid—sorry.” Your shoulders are shaking with laughter, and even though it’d be cute in another context, he feels like he’s about to combust. So he decides to make a run for it. Maybe a cowardly move on his part, but it seems like the best one right now.

“Hyung, you can’t be serious—” Jimin calls out to Yoongi as the older man brushes past once he gets back indoors, but the other man tries his best to ignore Jimin as a blush crawls up his neck. “Go back and tell her. It was the perfect moment!”

“There’s gonna be a lot more of that mess until we can leave,” Taehyung says, peering through the glass at your now confused expression and shaking his head. “God, one of them needs to say something before I lose my mind.”

Like Taehyung predicted, there’s a lot more of “that mess” over the next week. You and Yoongi continue to tip-toe around each other, unsure of how to appropriately handle each other and never unable to shake the awkwardness that colors every interaction.

The most notable incident of all, however, occurs when Yoongi does his laundry one day and somehow finds a pair of your underwear mixed in with his clothes after taking them out of the dryer. How the hell did they even get there, and how did he not notice them before?

Bound to his usual fierce overthinking, he stands there for a few long moments, wondering what he should do. Obviously, the only answer would be to return them to you. But then what if you think that’s weird, him somehow having your underwear? Or what if you assume he’s some pervert who’d taken your panties on purpose?

And to his great luck, that’s precisely when you walk into the laundry room. You give him a timid smile and greeting, which melts away into pure embarrassment when you see him standing there as if he’d just been framed for murder—and your deep red panties sitting in his laundry pile.

Yoongi’s gaze darts between the laundry and your eyes, his jaw working aimlessly as he tries to come up with something that makes sense.

He decides on “I didn’t know they were there,” though this feels just as inadequate as it sounds.

“M-maybe I threw them in the wrong bin,” you rush out, and in the same breath you cross the room to practically snatch them out of the pile of his clothes. You know you couldn’t have done it, though, which leads your mind back to those two sneaky men who’ve been trying to exercise their terrible matchmaking skills as of late.

“A-ah, yeah—maybe,” Yoongi agrees half-heartedly, rubbing the back of his neck.

You both pause for what feels like an eternity, for a reason you can’t decipher, and you think you might burst from the sheer discomfort of it all. “Well—th-thanks. One less thing to wash, I guess.” You try to laugh, but the sound comes out high and forced. Similarly, Yoongi’s answering smile is tight around the corners.

The next few days after that, you are both unable to maintain any kind of eye contact. Taehyung and Jimin are endlessly amused by the way you and the older man dance around each other like two ghosts struggling to inhabit the same space.

You make up for it slightly by turning all of Jimin’s white shirts into a splotchy pink once you find out that this was indeed his terrible and silly idea.

You’ve been sleeping in Jimin’s and Taehyung’s beds since you’ve been barricaded in their home with them, which none of you really think twice about. You’ve been friends with them for years and don’t see either of them other than platonically, so it’s not awkward for you or them. Although it was originally intended for you to mostly stay in Jimin’s bed, you end up alternating between the two, climbing into whoever’s bed you feel like that particular night. Neither of them mind the switch-up, and Taehyung likes using you as his personal pillow, so it all works out.

If there was anyone who minded at all, it was Yoongi. It wasn’t a burning jealousy, because he knew he had no right to feel like that about you—not when he couldn’t even admit to you that he liked you. But it didn’t make him want to jump for joy to know you were in either of the younger men’s beds, even just as friends.

He spent many nights imagining you were beside him instead, warming the empty spaces of his bed, whispering to him and telling him about your day. It didn’t matter if he already knew everything you did that day because you’d all been living in the same space for weeks. He still wanted to know.

But until either of you made a move, he didn’t know when that would happen. If ever.

He didn’t even know if you’d be interested, or if you saw him the way he saw you. You were never as close to him as you’d been with the other two men, and although that could be explained by you being best friends with them for years, he honestly chalked it up to you not liking him as much. Taehyung and Jimin had tried to tell him the exact opposite several times before, but he wasn’t really convinced. Not with the way you seemed to lock up around him—like if you said or did the wrong thing, he’d hate you forever.

If only you knew he could never feel that way about you.

You decide to sneak your way to the kitchen for a late-night snack one night, your socked feet scuffing quietly on the floor as you make your way to the kitchen. However, your plan is derailed when you run into Yoongi in the hallway, who has apparently just taken a shower. He’s fully clothed—thank God, because you’re not sure how you would’ve survived it otherwise—but the towel on his wet hair speaks to his recent shower. Your immediate response is to jump in surprise, feeling like you’ve been caught red-handed; although there’s no law stopping you from getting something to eat in the middle of the night.

“Oh—Yoongi.”

“You’re still up?” he asks, pulling the towel away from his face so he can see you better.

“Uh, yeah...I was just getting something to eat, I guess.”

“No crime in that. You’re tip-toeing around like you’re nervous about it, though.”

“I didn’t want to wake anyone up.” You shrug your shoulders, trying to appear more nonchalant than you really feel. “But I see you’re already up…” Your words trail off behind you as you walk into the kitchen. Yoongi watches your retreating back before making the split-second decision to follow you. He’s not really sure why, previously intending to go back to his own room.

“Were you getting something to eat too?” you ask, turning back to glance at him when you hear his footsteps behind you. You’re admittedly happy at the idea of spending a little more time alone with Yoongi, though you’re still nervous as hell.

It’s probably not the best idea to say I just came because I wanted to be next to you, so he nods to your question. "Uh, sure, I guess. What were you gonna get?”

“I don’t really know, just whatever’s in here…” You open the fridge and stare into it absentmindedly, your eyes raking over the food but not really seeing it—not with Yoongi’s presence hovering behind you.

Eventually you settle on some leftover rice and kimchi—which there’s always plenty of—not wanting to expend too much energy on cooking anything new.

You and Yoongi sit at the table together, using the light of your phone’s flashlight and the under-cabinet lights to illuminate the room instead of the overhead. Maybe it’s a little strange, but you like the ambiance of it more than having the harsh overhead light on.

The room is quiet for a while as you both eat, which you don’t initially mind. But you can’t ignore how Yoongi keeps stealing glances at you, like you aren’t going to notice, like he isn’t sitting right in front of you where you can see. It makes you antsy, but not necessarily in a bad way.

“Is something up?” you finally ask, keeping your eyes on your half-empty bowls, too nervous to look straight at him.

He hums like he’s thinking intently about it. Then he decides to rip the band-aid off and says, “You’re always tense around me.”

“Oh.”

He chuckles at your short response. “Why?”

You feel like you’ve been backed into a corner, and you hesitate. “Well, you’re always weird around me. Why is that?”

“Touché.” Another tense pause where he thinks of what to say, and then, “Jimin and Taehyung swear you like me.”

You try not to react so obviously, but your spoon clatters against the side of the bowl. If he’s acting weird because of the idea of you liking him, how can it be possible that he returns the feelings? Maybe he doesn’t know how to let you down easily. You suddenly feel ridiculous, like you’ve been wasting your emotions on nothing. “...I see.”

“I thought they were...trying to play some game. But, since you’re here now...is it true?”

Maybe if you close your eyes hard enough, you can poof yourself out of existence. If you felt trapped before, you really are now. You blurt out the first thing you can think of, trying to save yourself.

“Before you think I’m stupid for liking you, you should know they’ve been saying the same thing to me about you. So. Yeah.”

Yoongi looks at you full-on. “They told you I like you?” A nervous grin fixes itself on his lips, which makes you second-guess yourself. At this point, your head and heart are tangled in a knot. Why does your love life have to be this difficult? “So that’s it, then.”

“What is?”

“We like each other.” That makes your heart rate pick up. “...and didn’t even figure it out until just now, despite everyone else’s ‘help’.”

You take a shaky breath. “You like me.”

Yoongi nods, glancing between his hands on the table and your face. “I should’ve said it sooner.”

Despite yourself, you feel the corners of your mouth twitch into a slight smile—one that’s colored with relief and a tinge of lingering nervousness. “Later is better than never, I guess.” You find yourself laughing from the way all your stress slowly unwinds itself from your body, and Yoongi joins you, his eyes sparkling in the dark.

“So. This means we’re dating now, right?”

“I hope this isn’t considered our first date.” You snort, looking around the kitchen.

Yoongi shakes his head, placing his cheek in his hand with a sleepy smile. “I promise I’ll take you somewhere nice...after the pandemic is over.”

“We might be waiting a while, then.” Finished with your food, you go to quickly wash the dishes in the sink, and Yoongi slides in next to you to do the same. Another silence falls over the two of you, but for the first time, it’s not uncomfortable or pulled taut with words unsaid.

When you finish, Yoongi leans against the counter, his eyes openly tracing over you, wearing just a big T-shirt and shorts. It’s a simple outfit, but it warms his heart.

“Come sleep with me,” he says suddenly. You crack an awkward smile at that, and he’s blushing before the last syllable even leaves his lips, because he understands how that sounds. “I mean, actually sleep. It’s late.”

You pretend to hesitate on it. “I don’t know, Taehyung might miss me…”

“Taehyung and Jimin have had you all to themselves the past few weeks. It’s my turn now.”

And with that, you let him take your hand and guide you back to his room, maneuvering carefully through the dark house. His bed is new to you, but it’s instantly comfortable—like home. The smell of him surrounds you, as does his arms when he pulls you closer. You smile against the fabric of his shirt as you tuck your face into his chest, his chin on top of your head.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs, his fingers curling around your shoulder. His voice is soft and low, already halfway to sleep.

“Goodnight, Yoongi.”

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apexqueenie · 4 years

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Hi sweet! Welcome to Tumblr ❤️ I was wondering if you could do a Bakugou x reader, where the read is quirk-less and hides it from him, then he finds out and angsty stuff happens, but it ends in fluff. Feel free to change bits ❤️

Yasssssssss sorry this took so long!!! I recently took a trip to Oregon and couldn’t write as efficiently as I wanted to, please enjoy!!!

The Bitchy Couple (Bakugou x Quirkless Reader)

Warnings: swearing (duh)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You remember the first time Bakugou laid eyes on you. It almost felt like it was yesterday. He tried to kill you then.

You roamed the middle school grounds, looking for someone to hang out with during lunch. The latest pop music blared in your eardrums as you lost yourself in your imagination, pretending you were in a music video or something. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t even see the three people that were headed your direction, equally distracted. The one in front was walking backwards, spouting loud nonsense to the two. He had no idea that you two were on a collision course straight for each other until BAM, your face collided into his shoulder blades.

“HEY, WHAT THE FUCK YOU NERD?” he turned around and yelled

Annoyed, you readjusted your headphones and scoffed. “You were the one walking backwards asshole, and you’ve got 2 goonies who coulda warned you, but I guess all you were too stupid!” You spat, walking off.

Back then, you were the only one who threw his shitty attitude right back at him. Bakugou didn’t wanna admit it, but he respected someone who could fight his fire with fire. Screw bullying the lower classmen, they weren’t as entertaining after a while. Besides, he found a new hobby, and it was to outdo you.

Almost every day, your conversations would end up something like this:

“Hey you wench, where’d you get those shitty headphones?”

“Up your mom’s ass, dickhead”

“Oh yeah? At least she has an ass. It looks like your back just extends to your legs”

Then, it escalated more into:

“Suck my dick, Bakubitch”

“How bout u suck mine? I’ve prolly got a bigger one anyways!”

“Nah, I know you’ve choked on waaaaaaaaaay more dick”

-And it got to the point that people were taking bets on who won the insult fest that day. In your school, you two were a famous duo, often being referred to as “the bitchy couple”, well, at least to the outsiders.

Away from the eyes of your classmates, Bakugou was a little more...sweet? You weren’t really sure what to call it, but it was a side of him that wasn’t always angry, someone who didn’t feel like he had to put on a show all the time. You worked hard to uncover that side of him, and damn were you proud. You did nearly everything to annoy him at first: telling everyone his most embarrassing secrets during lunch, purposely pairing with him during class projects- you even got your mom to contact his mom so they can arrange “study sessions” for you two. In return, he’d send the most embarrassing pictures of you to guys who asked you out, steal the shoes out of your locker so you’d walk to class with smelly feet, and blew up your jacket a couple of times during the winter. Eventually though, when the two of you walked home together alone and away from your audience, he’d lend you his jacket, promising to buy you a new one to replace the one he destroyed. During those class projects, you’d pour your all into obtaining a good grade when no one was looking. Underneath the mask that the two of you showed everyone, you guys were almost a couple.

Almost.

“Baka-gouuuuu” you hummed.

“What?”

You pouted your lips at him, earning yourself an aggravated blush from the gremlin.

“Disgusting” he said, “come to UA with me”

“Haha- wait what?” You stopped, completely baffled, “you want me to WHAT?”

Bakugou scoffed, not meeting your eyes. “You heard what I said.”

You scanned his face, looking for any sign of sarcasm or jokes...anything-but no, he was dead serious. That was completely out of character for him, even you were amazed at how sudden his behavior flipped. You looked down, thoughts spinning in your head as you processed the question. You were nervous, but why? He asked you to go with him, THE Bakugou asked you to apply at the same school when he basically bullied half the rest of the school out of even THINKING about it, so why aren’t you excited?

“Hero course” he said, and pointed to himself, “like me”

Then it clicked in your head, not once in the entire time the both of you had together did you ever show off your quirk like he did. Even when he’d challenge you, you’d always end up saying something like, “I don’t need a stupid quirk to make you cry like a little baby”. He’d think nothing of it and continue squabbling with you. No one, not even your own mother has ever outright told him you were quirkless. Maybe part of you was scared of what his reaction will be, judging from the way he treats Deku. Maybe some of it was shame from being a part of the minority in the world. You didn’t really know, and it was just something you never really wanted to find time for. Now, all that laziness was coming right back to bite you in the ass.

“Bakugou, I don’t really-“

“I’m gonna need someone to bully at UA...other than shitty Deku” he said, but his eyes told you what he really wanted. He wanted someone loyal, someone who would stick around through all his bullshit when no one else would. Even his goons were intimidated out of applying at UA. There wasn’t anyone left to compete against and keep Bakugou grounded except for, well, you.

You sighed, wondering how you were going to explain this to him.

“(Y/n)-“ he started again.

But you were faster, “I can’t apply to the hero course, Bakugou.”

He looked at you, confusion written all over his face. “What? Why?”

You looked down, averting his gaze. “Uhm, because... I can’t be a hero without a quirk, can I?” You say quietly.

It seemed like the world just stopped the moment those words left your mouth. The wind stopped shaking the leaves of the trees around you and Bakugou just...froze. You stayed silent, letting him take it all in.

His mouth moved as if he wanted to say something, but he turned away instead, muttering something under his breath that you couldn’t quite hear.

“Baku, I can’t hear you.”

He turned around, rage in his eyes. He spoke low and aggressive, sending shivers down your spine, “so you were just a quirkless nerd this whole time? Did you hear me that time you little bitch?” He took a step towards you, towering over your smaller frame. You stumbled backwards and almost lost your footing, fear rushing through your veins. You were well aware of what Bakugou could do, but you never thought that you’d be on the receiving end. Is this what Bakugou was like as a true bully?

Bakugou scoffed at your reaction and continued advancing in your direction, “How noble of you, following me around and wasting time with pathetic insults when I could’ve been training. Do you feel proud of yourself? DO YOU?”

You were shocked. He hasn't talked to you like that before. Not like this. Tears threatened to start forming at your eyes, flushing your face red. Bakugou blinked, realizing what he just said. Deep down, he felt awful from the very first sentence, but his ego wouldn’t let him apologize. He turned around and walked on home, leaving you silently crying where he left you.

He nearly broke the hinges of the door off when he got home, ignoring his mother’s yells and climbing up to his room. He cursed over and over again, fighting his conscience and his ego at the same time. Dammit, he was supposed to be fighting villains, not his own head! On one hand, he just couldn’t believe that you would tolerate him calling quirkless people pieces of shit, but on the other hand, he thought maybe it was his fault for making you feel unwelcome at the topic. Either way, he wasn’t sure what to be angry about, so he got angry at everything.

“aaauuAAAAAGH” he yelled in frustration, as he slams his body down onto his bed. What the hell was he supposed to do now? You probably-no, DEFINITELY didn’t want anything to do with him by now. Still, he just couldn’t help but feel bad. It was gnawing at his chest relentlessly, urging him to go back and make things right, and that was exactly what he was gonna do.

“KATSUKI!!! WHY IS IT SO DAMN COLD IN THE HOUSE?” Mama Bakugou yelled. She waited for an angry response, but heard nothing. She walked up the stairs, expecting her son to have passed out already, but was instead greeted with an empty room...and an open window. “Stupid kid,” she scowled, “coulda walked out the front door ya know, or at least close the damn window.”

***

Bakugou didn’t break a sweat running to your house, but he panted hard. His mind was jam packed with the things he wanted to say to you, he just had to find the courage to say it. Hah, Bakugou Katsuki... afraid of something? That was a first. He climbed the side of your fence up along a pipe, just like he’s done a million times before. He’d come and leave before your mom could smother him with her home cooking and conversations about arranging a marriage between you and him. It honestly became a little too overwhelming, and he’d just sneak in and out whenever he’d have to tutor you on something.

He pulled the window open and slipped in only to find a lamp being swung at his face. He dodged nimbly and stopped your second swing with one hand, ripping the lamp out of your hands before you could try again. You turned around and grabbed a book off your desk, yeeting it at his face before kicking his stomach. The lamp made a thump as it landed on the floor, Bakugou now occupied with the gigantic math book. You frantically looked for something else to throw, knowing he recovered quickly in combat. Your eyes landed on a half eaten pork bun on your bedside dresser and you quickly lunged at it, managing to hit Bakugou’s forehead before he could see it coming.

“God DAMMIT stop tryna hit me with shit!” He yelled, shoving you on to your bed.

You staggered a bit before falling and growled in anger, “you have some fuckin nerve coming back here after what you said!” You yelled back.

“Honey what’s going on?” Your mother called, opening the door. You two were so caught up in arguing that you didn’t realize how much noise it was making...or the footsteps coming upstairs. Your mom gasped as she saw what happened. You lying on the bed, hair messy, shirt a bit ruffled...Bakugou standing over you just OOZING dominance...oh yeah, she got the picture. The WRONG picture.

She blushed bright pink, “oh uh, hi Katsuki, be careful you guys ok?!?! Okbyedontforfettouseprotection!” She said before slamming the door closed in a hurry and climbing down the stairs.

“MOM WAIT NO IT'S NOT LIKE THATUUUUUUUUUGH” you yelled and plopped your face into your hands. You weren’t even angry anymore at Bakugou, just frustrated.

You sighed, lifting your face from your hands and stared into empty space. Bakugou took the empty spot next to you, looking at the ground. There was a long and awkward silence between the two of you. Painfully long. Bakugou eventually sighed, making a move to break the extremely thick ice.

“I didn’t really mean what I said, (y/n)-“ he started.

“Then why did you say it?” You snarled.

Bakugou looked up at you, then back at the ground, fiddling with the fabric of his pants. “I was just, I dunno, angry at myself ok? Fuck off, wait no don’t fuck off, I...” he shook his head and took a big huff of air. Admitting his own wrongs wasn’t his forte, but it was definitely entertaining. You resisted the urge to smile a bit. He didn’t deserve that yet, not until he apologized. “I was just angry cuz...cuz I thought only people with quirks could be strong. But then you showed up and I thought you were probably the third strongest person I’ve ever met-“

“Third?” You cocked an eyebrow.

“After All Might, then me” he said, furrowing his eyebrows, “anyways, back to the point, look, I’m just sorry, for everything and I guess I shouldn’t have said that. I got upset at the fact that...I can’t beat your ass in hero course now. I can’t do projects with you anymore. And plus, if you aren’t going to UA anymore then-“

Bakugou was interrupted once again when you sat up, walked over to your desk, and dug through your drawer. You pulled a few pieces out before finding the one you wanted, then proceeded to wave it in the gremlin’s face.

“Who said I wasn’t going to UA?” You said, watching as his face just stared at the paper in awe.

“You’re enrolling in support?!” He yelled, taking the paper out of your hand.

“Yep” you said, giving him a small smile.

Bakugou lowered the paper and hung his head, “(y/n), I wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to see me again.”

You sat back down and scooted over to lean on his shoulder, something he’d only ever let you do in private. “It’s ok Bakagou, I know you were only scared of losing me to some quirkless job like accounting or-“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP IM NOT SCARED OF WIMPY SHIT LIKE THAT” he yelled, a small and almost unnoticeable blush appearing on his face.

You giggled, “sure whatever, look, I won’t be able to fight villains with you, but I can help you fight villains better by making support items for you. So I guess...that kinda makes me the hero behind the hero huh?” You smiled.

Bakugou scoffed, “Heh whatever, you better make me the best fuckin support items out of anyone there cuz I’m gonna need em to be number one, understand?!”

You scoffed back, “Number one my ass, maybe third place at the MOST.”

He growled as he whacked you with a pillow, making you shriek with delight. High school with this angry gremlin was gonna be interesting.

#anime x reader #mha x reader #my hero academy fanfiction #bakugou x reader #anime #mha fluff #fluff #bnha fluff #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou angst

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effiethebookworm · 3 years

Text

TSE Appreciation Week Day Two!

*tiny wave* Hi again! Just wanted to say thank you to all of the kind people who commented on/liked my fanfic for day one. Y’all are awesome. Anyhoo, on with the story! This one is called Tiny Hands, and I LOVED writing it. I hope you love reading it!!

Tiny Hands

“King Avidan! Where are you?” Avidan sighed. The reason that he had gone to hide in the head was so that people wouldn't notice that he was gone. They would see the door closed and think, Oh, the king is relieving himself. It sure worked for Eglon and Ehud in the Bible. Avidan stood up and opened the door. His manservant, Jer, stood in front of the door. His dark brown hair with a few traces of gray sat crisply on his head, and his uniform fit perfectly on his wiry frame.

“What is it, Jer?” Jer bowed deeply and said,

“I am so sorry, Your Majesty. I did not realize that you were...” Avidan blushed.

“I was done. What did you want to tell me?”

“We recently received a letter from your adviser. It requires an urgent response.”

“Thank you, Jer.” Avidan didn't know what he'd do without Jer. He probably would have died from exhaustion if it hadn't been for Jer, who always made sure that he ate and slept and occasionally took breaks. Jer was sort of like a father to him now, and easily old enough to be his father, if not grandfather. Since Velvare had forfeited his position of regent five years ago so that he could go home to his family in Levant, Avidan had been ruling Gallitan. He had an adviser, of course, because he was still underage, but after hearing the tragic story of how Velvare had left his family fourteen years ago, the kingdom unanimously voted to let Avidan take the crown at only seventeen. It had been almost constant stress since then, so he had escaped on a vacation to Levant. Jer insisted that he come along too. Avidan told his adviser that he wanted to visit his friend Enel, but he was really going to visit his cousin Noah. He had heard that Noah was married now, and wanted to see if it was true. Also, he just missed Noah. After all, they had been very close when Avidan was a child, and he hadn't seen Noah since before he had taken the crown. Avidan was back to his cabin now, and saw two birds on his desk. One was his, a raven that one of Velvare's friends had given him at his coronation. He could carry letters in his beak, and Avidan had named him Postmaster. Next to Postmaster was a dove with a small slip of paper between her talons. Is that...

“Pigeondove?” Avidan said with amazement. The bird perked up her head at hearing her name, and jumped up onto Avidan's shoulder. She nestled up against his ear, and made a small cooing noise.

“Nice to see you too, girl. What's your message?” Avidan murmured. Pigeondove hopped off of his shoulder and flapped over his open hands. She dropped the paper onto his hands, and flew up to his other shoulder. Avidan opened the paper, trembling with excitement.

Letter from I said you were coming. True? -N

Avidan and Noah had developed their own kind of code for letters by bird. Since Pigeondove could only carry small slips of paper, and Postmaster was still being trained up until quite recently, a message had to be quite short. This one meant something like I got a letter from Idony that said that you were coming to visit. Is that true? Love, Noah. Avidan pulled a piece of note paper out of his bag, ripped off a tiny slip, and scrawled: Yes. OK? -A. He gave the paper to Pigeondove and threw her out of his porthole window. She quickly disappeared over the waves. Suddenly, Avidan had an idea. He wrote on the rest of the paper, This is my bird Postmaster. Let him inspect you, and say “Noah” while he does. He can carry more than Pig, and is new. -A.

He shoved the paper into an envelope, gave it to Postmaster, and told him,

“Follow that bird. Her name is Pigeondove. Give the letter to the man. His name is Noah. Go.” Avidan had managed to train Postmaster to understand around 75 words. He was a very smart bird, and he flew out of the window. Avidan watched him grow smaller and smaller on the horizon, there was a green flash, and he disappeared. By now, Avidan had figured out that both Pigeondove and Postmaster had been magically enchanted. They had to be, how else could they fly thousands of miles in a single day? Avidan suddenly realized that he had forgotten about the letter from his adviser. He broke the seal and opened it.

Your Majesty,

The kingdom has now realized that you are gone. I have made an official announcement that you have gone to visit your childhood friend Enel Lanum in Bellingrath. I hope your journey is going as planned. Please give King Bhatair my greetings.

King Bhatair? Avidan was confused for a moment, but then remembered that Velvare had revealed his real name to be Bhatair Hollingsworth.

I do hope that you remember what we talked about before you left. Remember, you are the KING now. You are no longer just a prince who may gallivant

ant around as he pleases. You still have responsibility, even though you are on “vacation.” You are now the face of Gallitan. Whatever you say or do reflects the character of the country, for better or worse. Oh, that reminds me, you should probably start looking for a candidate for queen. You are twenty-one years old, after all.

Sincerely,

Sir Kishon Fitzpeter

Avidan muttered an obscenity under his breath. Candidate for queen? Yes, Velvare got married when he was sixteen, but Velvare is not a good role model for life! Plus, I have a kingdom to rule, I don't have time for dating! Avidan slumped onto his bunk, internally screaming. He could not function. Life was too challenging. He checked his pocket watch. A quarter to ten. I could sleep now! He stood up and went to the door of his cabin.

“I AM TIRED! I AM GOING TO BED!” He yelled, to no one in particular. He laid on his bed, just bothering to change into his night-tunic, and fell asleep fairly quickly.

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He awoke with a start. He saw a black figure sitting on his chest, and almost screamed before he realized that it was Postmaster. He had a letter in his beak, and he dropped it onto Avidan's face. Avidan opened it.

Avidan,

Glad to hear that you have a bird now. Who did you get it from? I am really glad you're coming to visit!

Avidan was shocked. That sounds nothing like Noah.

I'm sorry I couldn't make it to your coronation, but Idony and Marcus told me all about it. I hope you're doing well and the ruling the kingdom isn't too taxing. Where are you in the Deadwaters? If you don't know, ask a sailor how many outposts you are from Cedulan Port. Hope to see you soon.

-Noah

PS. I have a family now. Can't wait for you to meet Ruya!

So the rumor was true. Avidan rolled out of bed and quietly crept up to the deck. The stars were brilliant, brighter than they ever were in Greenway with all its streetlamps. He walked over to the man at the helm. He was quite rotund, and had blond curls that fell into his eyes.

“Excuse me, sir, how many outposts are we from Cedulan Port?”

“Yi're King Avidan, ain't ye?” The sailor asked. He had a strange accent. “Well, I'd reckin 'bout a half, Yer Majisty. That'il take us 'bout foir dais.

“Thank you. What's your name?”

“Me, sir? Erialc. Haon Erialc.”

“Thank you, Haon.”

Avidan returned to his cabin, and quickly wrote a response to Noah.

Noah-

I got Postmaster from a man at my coronation. He had green eyes and brown hair. He told me that the bird was trained to carry letters. Then he congratulated me, and disappeared into the crowd. The sailor said that we are half an outpost away, and it would be about four days.

-Avidan

He put the letter in the bird's beak, and went back to bed. About an hour and a half later, he was awakened by squawking. Postmaster was already back, and had a hastily folder paper in his beak. Avidan took it, and read.

Look for a windmill by the coast. That is ours. Stop the ship there. If you are about half an outpost away from the city, you are only a few hours away.

-Noah

Avidan jumped out of bed and quickly changed clothes into a simple tunic and linen pants. Jer made him pack mostly royal robes, but he hid more simple clothes under them. He ran out of the cabin and took the ladder two rungs at a time. On deck, a beautiful sunrise was starting.

“Haon?” Avidan yelled.

“Yessear?” Haon answered.

“Do you know if we've passed a large windmill yet?”

“Nosear. That'll come in abeaut twenty minits.”

“Will you stop the ship there?”

“Whatevear for, yer Highniss?”

“My cousin lives there. I wish to visit him.”

“Yer cousin is Noah St. Clar?” Avidan was surprised.

“Yes. How do you know him?”

“Nay, sir, I don't know heem, but 'is wife, Ruya Lewis. We used to be on a ship's crew together. She's a kind, kind woman. Very sweet, very gintle. You'll love'er, ever'one does. The capteen was a 'orrible man, but she made us all heppy.”

“That's good to hear.” Haon and Avidan stood on the deck in silence for a few minutes, watching the sun rise in a brilliant array of colors. Haon finally cleared his throat.

“Beggin' yer pardon, sir, but shouldn't ye get your bags ready to get off?” Avidan snapped out of his daze.

“Oh, yes. I suppose I should. Thank you, Haon.”

“Any time, sir.

Avidan rushed back down the ladder, and knocked on Jer's door.

“Come in.” Avidan walked in. Jer was writing in a small leather-bound book, but quickly turned around.

“Yes, King Avidan?”

“There's uh... been a small change of plans. We're getting off at a different port in a few minutes.”

“Oh dear.” Jer wrung his hands. “Has there been an assassination? An accident? A rebellion? Oh dear, maybe we should just turn back-”

“No, Jer. I just want to visit my cousin.”

“Oh. I suppose that's alright.” Jer's concern visibly diminished.

“Great. Get ready to land.” Avidan went back to his cabin, and threw everything into his bags. Postmaster flew up onto Avidan's shoulder, and he went up on deck. By the time he got up there, the windmill was in sight. He could see hills of farmland stretching on beyond the windmill. A few workers were in the fields, picking and planting and doing whatever farmers do. Avidan sure didn't know. He had only left Gallitan once, for Enel's wedding to a Gallitanian farmer's daughter. Enel would have become king, since his brother committed suicide when he was captured by Cedulanian forces and his father forfeited, he was next in line. However, he and King Apen Shephard of Cedulan decided to get rid of the law that kept women from ruling Levantine countries, and Enel let his sister Delaney become queen of Bellingrath. Avidan respected Enel for this decision. I don't think that I would have the self-control to step down like that, although self-control is certainly not the word that most describes Enel Alvarado. As an show of how Enel had no plans to retake the thrown from his sister, he took his wife's last name, an unheard-of practice in Levant, though quite common in Preble.

“DROP ANCHOR!” Avidan heard from the helm.

Haon waddled over to him and announced, “We're 'ere, Yer 'ighness. You 'n yer sarvant will go out to share on a rowb't.”

“Thank you, Haon. You have been very helpful.”

Haon ducked his head and smiled bashfully.

“Well, Sir, 't's not evry dee y'get to help the Keeng.” A loud horn sounded, and Avidan and Jer were helped into a large rowboat by a sailor. He tossed their luggage in, and then climbed in himself. They dropped into the water, and the sailor started rowing them to the shore. They were silent, listening to the plop, whish, plop, whish of the oars. Soon, they reached land. The sailor threw all of the luggage onto the shore. He bowed to Avidan, and Avidan nodded in thanks. The sailor started rowing back to the ship, but turned around after a few rows.

“Your Highness, Captain Haon told me to let you know that when you are ready to go, send him a message by bird? He said you would know what that means.” Avidan nodded. “Yes, I do. Thank you.” The sailor rowed away. Avidan and Jer grabbed their bags and turned towards the fields and mill.

“So, King Avidan, this is where Noah lives.”

“It is. And Jer, please drop the 'King.' Just Avidan would suit me better.” Jer winked.

“Alright, Just Avidan.” Avidan almost chuckled.

“I suppose that your cousin is working in the fields.” Jer wiped his forehead with his sleeve. It was already warm out, even though it was still fairly early, about two hours after sunrise. Avidan took a deep breath of sea air and freshly turned dirt.

“No, he's a doctor. I doubt that he would become a farmhand.”

They started walking towards the mill. As they got close, they saw a large sign hanging over the doors.

ST. CLAIRE FAMILY FARM

Maybe he is a farmer. Avidan wondered. Suddenly, a little girl with small blonde curls hurtled out of the door of the house behind the mill.

“You will never catch me, Evil Dragon!” A man ran out after her, roaring. He was carrying a little boy on his back.

“Forward, Dragon!” the boy yelled. He was holding a small sword. The little girl noticed Avidan and jogged over to him.

“Hello. What's your name?” she said. The man noticed Avidan a second later.

“Hey! Are you looking for a job-” the man stopped abruptly. “Avidan? Is that you?” “Noah?” Avidan said incredulously. The man standing before him looked nothing like how he remembered his cousin. The angry, scruffy man had transformed into a happy, well-groomed, kind-looking man with children clinging to him. Instead of stubble, he had a small beard. Instead of a bloody bandage covering his right forearm, a few deep scars were visible. Noah put the boy down and enveloped Avidan in a sweaty hug. Avidan was shocked. It had been months since anyone had hugged him, maybe longer. He wasn't sure what to do with his hands. Noah pulled away, and looked over Avidan from head to foot.

“Man, it's been a long time. You're twenty now, right?”

“Twenty-one.” Avidan said.

“Twenty-one. Man, it's been forever. Listen, I'm so sorry that we couldn't come to your coronation, Dan. Ah, we have so much to catch up on!” The little girl asked,

“Daddy, who's he?” Noah swooped her up onto his hip.

“Olive, this is Avidan. He's my cousin, which means he's your cousin once-removed.” He turned to Avidan. “Avidan, this is my daughter Olive.” Olive smiled. She had three missing teeth.

“I'm six and a half!”

“Nice.” Avidan smiled. He didn't really know how to talk to kids. Sure, he had been a kid himself once, but he had been unusually mature. An “old soul,” people called it.

Noah turned to his son.

“Laban, this is your cousin Avidan.” Laban stood up and walked over to Avidan. He firmly shook Avidan's hand.

“Nice to meet you, Avidan.” He said in a small, quiet voice. Avidan could hardly keep himself from laughing. This boy was no more than five, and he already acted like a businessman.

“Nice to meet you too, Laban.”

Noah smiled again. Avidan had never seen Noah smile this much in the twenty-one years he had known him, combined.

“Laban here is the reason why we couldn't come to your coronation. He was a week old, and it would have been too long of a journey. Ru didn't want to leave him, and I didn't want to leave her.” A look of confusion settled on Olive's face.

“Da, what's coronation?” “It's when someone becomes king or queen.” Olive's eyes widened. She dropped into a low curtsy.

“Your Highness.” Noah chuckled and shook his head.

“Olive, you've been reading too many fairy tales.” Olive rose, and asked,

“If you're a king, then where's your crown?”

“All my circlets are in my bags.” Just then, Avidan remembered Jer.

“Jer! This is my cousin Noah. Noah, this is my manservant Jer.”

They shook hands and exchanged pleasantries.

“C'mon, let's go inside so you can meet Ru.” Noah put his arm around Avidan's shoulders and led him inside a farmhouse next to the mill. As soon as Avidan stepped inside, he knew that it was a home. The smell of baking bread wafted through the air, along with the sound of laughter. There were messy drawings in wooden frames on the walls, along with beautiful paintings of the children, Noah and his wife in their wedding clothes, and a painting of Pigeondove that looked like it was done by the children. They went through a hall, and into the kitchen, where there was a woman singing softly to a baby while folding laundry. She turned around.

“Noah, where did you put the...” she noticed Avidan and stopped what she was doing.

“Hello. You must be Avidan. I'm Ruya.” She walked over and gave him a light embrace. “Please, have a seat. Would you like some bread?” Avidan realized that he was ravenously hungry.

“That would be very nice,” he replied. She walked over to the counter and started slicing a loaf. Avidan sat down at the kitchen table. Noah left the room and came back carrying a little girl.

“This is Ruth. She's three.” Her chocolate skin was in sharp contrast with the peach skin of her father and warm tan of her mother.

“Is she adopted?” Avidan asked, already knowing the answer. Ruya answered.

“Yes. Her mother was one of our patients, we're both doctors, you know, met in medical school. The mother died in childbirth, and we haven't been able to locate the father.” Ruth gurgled happily. Avidan noticed that her tongue stuck out a bit, and her eyes were a bit uneven. Practically reading his thoughts, Noah said,

“We think she has a brain disability. She can't speak yet, and she learned to walk, with help, only last month.” Almost defensively, Ruya said, “She learned to laugh at one and a half months, though. Babies usually laugh around four months, but Ruth does things on her own schedule.” Avidan walked over to Ruth. “Nice to meet you, Ruth. I'm Avidan.” Ruth smiled at him. He smiled back. That girl lives up to her name, Avidan thought. She can light up a room with joy. Noah sat Ruth down on a cushion, and picked up a baby from a blanket on the floor.

“This, Avidan, is your cousin Peter Avidan St. Claire.”

Avidan?

“You named him after me?”

“Yes.” Ruya said, while placing a plate with a small stack of bread before him. “Olive is Olive Idony, Laban is Laban Edwin, after my father, Ruth is Ruth Lorene, after my mother, and then there's little Peter Avidan.”

“But... why me?” Avidan was still shocked.

Ruya sat down next to him.

“I have no siblings, and Noah” she side-eyed Noah “refused to let his middle name be Thoth. So you were the next choice.”

“But I'm no-” Avidan started to choke on the lump in his throat, but quickly regained himself. “I'm not that important.” Suddenly all of the feelings that he had suppressed over the last five years, and his whole life, came flooding out. Shock, denial, anger, sadness, hurt, even hints of despair. He started crying and talking at the same time.

“Noah, I've always idolized you. You were my hero when I was little, always strong and brave, always helping me. I was so proud when you started telling me Velvare's secrets, and about the east. I felt like you and I were special secret-friends, and th-that we would always be best friends. Then Velvare had his accident, and he hugged Enel and ignored me, and I know that it was a trivial thing and he was sick, but it hurt so, so much. Then he started ignoring me and spending so much more time with Enel. Enel left, and then I learned that Velvare only adopted me for power, and that Enel was his real son. Then the war, and Velvare went back to his family, and I was king all of a sudden. Everyone trusted me so much, and I couldn't ever let them down, and it was too much and I just couldn't anymore but I kept going and going and- and I'm sorry I'm upset. I shouldn't be making such a big deal out of this.” Avidan put his head down on the counter, his body convulsing with silent sobs.

“Avidan, I am so sorry. I am sorry I put you through all that. If I hadn't told you about- If you hadn't known-” Noah stopped speaking, crying as well. Avidan raised his head.

“I'm sorry, Noah. I shouldn't have said anything.” Noah was sitting next to him now, with Ruya on Avidan's other side. They both had an arm on his back. Ruya's face was concerned, Noah's was twisted with guilt.

“No, Dan. It is not your fault. Velvare was a horrible person, and he hurt you. Not physically, but emotional hurt lasts longer. Trust me. I know.” Noah turned away. Ruya patted Avidan's back comfortingly.

“Avidan Leto, you are one of the most important people in my husband's life. He told me about you before he told me about his parents.” Avidan snorted.

“He won't tell you this, but he loves you. Almost as much as he loves Idony.” Avidan looked at Ruya. She was telling the truth. Noah turned back toward him.

“No, Ru's wrong. I will tell you. Avidan, I love you. You are, and always have been, like a brother to me. If you didn't know that yet, I am so sorry. Please forgive me.” Olive hopped up onto the table.

“Uncle Danny, you don't have to be sad. Mommy and Daddy and me and Laban and Ruth and Peter all love you and maybe Peter doesn't yet because he's too young but he will someday, I know it.” Olive scooted over to Avidan and wrapped her arms around his neck. (Author's note: I was listening to the Avidan Leto playlist while writing this, and Everybody Needs A Hug came on right as I started writing Olive's dialogue!)

Avidan was shocked. He had just met this child, and she already loved him? How was this possible? Practically answering his question, Ruya said,

“Avidan, you're family. We love you, and you are welcome to stay here as long as you want.”

Laban grabbed his leg from under the table, and Noah scooped up both Ruth and Peter and crouched next to Avidan.

“We're here for you, okay? Is there anything we can do for you?” Jer cleared his throat from the corner. Avidan had again forgotten about his presence.

“Avidan, I am also here to help you, whenever and wherever you need it.”

“Thank you, Noah, Jer, Ruya, Olive, Laban.” Avidan managed to choke out. “I think I'm a little better now.” They all stood there for a while, no one talking. Avidan felt like a huge hole had been filled in his soul. I have a family now. They are my family. Not Velvare, not Enel, not the country of Gallitan. The people in this house are my family. Two hands slipped into his, balled up on the table. He looked at them, and saw a tiny peach hand and a tiny chocolate hand in his large ones.

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The fields were beautiful, full of perfectly ripe black and red berries, small stalks of corn, huge onions ripe for the pulling, and almost every other fruit and vegetable imaginable. Avidan was having the time of his life working, actually working, at the farm. He was sweaty and tired and sore all over, but happy. Jer had protested when Avidan had first asked Noah, but in the evening when Avidan came back rosy-checked and hungry, Jer had bought some fabric to make him a set of laboring clothes. It turned out that Jer had been apprenticed to a tailor as a boy, and he was very good at sewing. Avidan had been working for eleven days now, and it was doing him a lot of good. His appetite was better, he slept more soundly, and he was more joyful. He had even made a few friends among the other workers. Sometimes Noah worked with him, although usually he was helping the kids. He home-schooled Olive and Laban while Ruya worked in town. She ran a small hospital with a few other doctors. They had inherited the farm from Ruya's parents when they died a few years ago. They used it as a sort of ministry, hiring beggars from all over the continent, paying them fare wages, and eventually, a small share in the farm. They sold much of the produce at the local market, and investing the extra money back into the farm instead of keeping it. In return, they had loyal workers, many friends, and an almost endless supply of fresh food.

BONG. The lunch gong sounded, and the workers started to the village. Avidan went the opposite direction, to the farmhouse, where the smell of stew beckoned him to the kitchen.

Noah stirred the stew, humming. He wore an apron with the word Da painted on it.

“Did Olive make you that apron?” Avidan said. Noah jumped.

“You startled me, Dan. Don't walk so quietly!” Noah chuckled.

Olive was sitting on the counter next to Noah.

“Hi Uncle Danny! Daddy's teaching me how to make stew. Do you wanna come help?”

“No thanks, Olive. I need to go wash up. Maybe next time, though.” Avidan headed for the stairs, and almost tripped over Laban, who was hurtling through the hallway, a tiny wooden wagon in each hand.

“Whoa, buddy! You're fast.” Laban smiled at him, but kept playing.

Avidan washed his hands and went back downstairs. Noah was serving the stew into bowls, and Olive was pouring iced tea into tin cups. Avidan watched them for a moment, taking in the beauty of the St. Claires' simple life.

The End.

#tse appreciation week #day two #avidan leto #noah st claire #ruya st claire #the silver eye #fanfiction

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tinkonka · 3 years

Text

richashe sick fic

characters: richard lopez, ashe bradley, noel levine words: 2,684 tags: @oncelerrichard @nekuuwu @burnt-toast-life

note: this took. TOO LONG. richard is a little overdramatic sometimes ... he’s actually not that sick but he is pretty drowsy. ANWAY enjoy

Ah... he knew it was a bad idea. On a warm day, which Richard would usually spend outside with Claire, playing sports perhaps - he was wound up in his bed, a heavy mist settled on his head. If not for going out at midnight in the freezing cold to grab groceries for Ashe, which he should've done the next day, maybe he would've been enjoying the outdoors.

But alas, here he was, sick. Cold and hot at the same time, shivering without the comfort of his blankets - which he refused to put on as they would undoubtedly stick to his exposed skin, slick with sweat. Truly, this was the worst he had felt in years... the only time he recalled a fever this bad was when he was just a child, and that ended up with him in the hospital.

The hospital... he hates hospitals. And if this was to make him sit in one for hours on end without mercy, then he'd rather just stay still and and wallow. Yes, that's okay, isn't it? Let's just wait it out! What could go wrong?

He squeezed his eyes shut as a particularly harsh wave of nausea washed over him, concentrating on keeping the bile in his stomach down. Was this all he could do? Keep his tired stare fixated on a dent in the wall as he tried to ignore his peripheral vision bending and swaying?

He was so disoriented that he hardly heard the knock of his door, nor did he hear the door open after a few shouts. He only began to shift back to reality when he felt a cold hand shake his shoulder.

"-ard! Richard, are you alright?" He lazily turned his gaze to Ashe, who was standing over him with a wary expression. Too tired to give a response, all he did was stare - until a sudden bout of vertigo (albeit not as intense as the last) came. He gave a little whine as he let out a few harsh coughs.

"...Oh dear. Did you catch a cold?" A cold palm was placed on his forehead, and almost immediately, Richard leaned into the touch with a small mumble of content.

Ashe's cheeks unconsciously tinged a light red - though he quickly willed it away. This wasn't affection, this was illness. And he needed to help.

"...Hmm. What to do, what to do... How about I'll go make you some soup? That should ease the nausea a little, yes?" He spoke in a foreign, quiet tone - his upbeat demeanor seemingly absent as he rubbed his thumb on the smaller boys brow. "How about it?"

"...mm." That was the best response you were gonna get, it seems - he only seems around half conscious, Ashe noted. Ah... but it'd be a bit risky to leave him alone like this...

Were the others still home? He knew that Sirius, Noel and Claire had gone to town to look for some furniture (they had departed early in the morning), and Wilardo was at work... Which means it was just him and Richard in the house.

Or so he thought, as a familiar blonde haired boy appeared at the doorframe, peering over at the two.

"Noel! You're here?"

"Uh, yeah. I just woke up." He responded with a small smile, leaning against the wall.

"I thought you were heading to town with Sirius and Miss Claire?"

"Oh, uh. No, I wasn't feeling well this morning. I'm alright now, though." He waved it off, and took a few steps towards Richard's bedside. "Is... Is he okay?"

Another coughing fit - Richard brought a closed, shaky fist up to his mouth - luckily, the fit was short, so he was able to flop back down shortly with a groan. Ashe ran his fingers through the olive-haired boys hair idly, in an attempt to console the sickly boy.

"He appears to have fallen ill. Would you mind keeping an eye on him while I prepare him something?" Ashe requested, slowly taking his hand off of Richard and returning them to their place inside his abnormally large sleeves. Although Richard didn't seem pleased with the now absence of Ashe's hand - he seemed too tired to do anything about it.

"...Of course. Is there anything I should do?" Noel replied, dragging the chair used at the desk to Richard's bedside.

"Hmm... his forehead is quite high in temperature, it seems... Perhaps a cold cloth would do some good?" Ashe mumbled, and without another word, he rushed off in the direction of the bathroom - returning shortly with a bucket of water and a small, white cloth.

"Here we are- so." He placed the bucket next to the chair, and showed the cloth to Noel. "Every half an hour - or maybe every fifteen minutes, depending on how quickly the cloth warms back up - take the cloth off of his forehead, and soak it, like so." After rolling up his sleeves, he placed the cloth in the bucket. He let it sit for a few seconds before lifting it back up, wringing out any leftover liquid, and then folded it.

"Then you place it back." He stood up, and placed the cold towel on Richard's forehead - who by now was fully asleep, so he gave no outward reaction. Ashe flicked the leftover droplets on his hands back into the bucket, and pulled his sleeves back down.

"You won't need to do it for long, just until I finish up in the kitchen, alright? Did you get all that?"

"Yeah, I think I got it. I'll do my best." Noel replied with a smile, and sat down on the chair, grabbing a book from the shelves behind him. "I suppose I'll catch up on some reading while I'm at it?"

"Certainly! If you see any words that you have trouble with, just say the word, and I'll be there!" Ashe called, now out the door. "Oh! But-"

He peeked back, only half of his body in view. "I'd hate for you to get sick as well, Noel, so just keep your distance, alright? Be careful!"

"Got it. Good luck with the meal, though I doubt you need it, given your skill..." Noel grinned, and opened up the book.

"Ahaha! Even the greatest of cooks need lucks sometimes, but I appreciate the sentiment! I'll just be a few hours!" And with that, he disappeared - and the clash of pots and pans could be heard as Ashe got to work.

-=+=-

"...mmh?"

A swirl of colors, sharpening with a few blinks - Richard stirred, slowly but surely. He felt a little bit lighter - though there was a warm object on his head, which probably woke him up. He managed to sit up (with a little difficulty) and took the object off - a white cloth which was a little damp.

He then turned to his side - and startled, managing to keep down his shout of surprise - Noel was on the chair beside him, with a book open on his lap. Though his head was dipped low, and his cheek was rested on his palm... was he asleep?

Just as Richard was about to call out for him, there was a soft click of an open door - and a familiar teal haired friend entered with a tray (which held a bowl of something steaming) and a friendly smile.

"Oh! You're awake! Good morni-" He paused as he placed the tray on the desk near the door, peering at Noel's still form. "Goodness, is he asleep?"

"Yeah, I think so." Richard replied - his voice was noticeably hoarse, likely as a result of his cold. "I just woke up, so... I'm not sure how long he's been asleep."

"Ah, he did say he wasn't feeling well... perhaps it was a mistake to think he could complete a task where all you do is sit still for an hour." Ashe dropped to his knees, looking up at Noel. "Yep - asleep."

"Are you gonna wake him up?" Richard asked, taking the duvet off as sat on the edge of the bed. "Is that a good idea?"

"Well, we can't have him sleeping in an uncomfortable position - he'll strain his neck." After taking the book off of Noel's lap, he placed his hands on Noels arms and shook him a little. "Noel. Wake up."

"...hm?" Noel's eye opened, regaining consciousness slowly as he lifted his head off his hand. "...did i...?"

"Yes, you fell asleep. Apologies for making you stay awake - even though you said you weren't feeling well. You did good, though!" Ashe reassured him, grinning brightly as his hands travelled to Noel's, grasping them tightly.

"...sorry..." Noel spoke quietly.

"Now, now, there's no need to apologize! Come, let's get you to bed. Richard, can you manage eating yourself?"

"Uh... Yeah, I think I can." Richard nodded, deciding to ignore the pang of envy in his stomach. Noel was frail, and sometimes needed a little help - he knew that. So why did he feel jealous?

"Splendid! Here you go." Ashe cheered, and stood up, taking his hands off of Noel. He made his way to where the tray was, and placed it on Richard's lap.

"...Thanks."

"Don't mention it! Alright, let's go, Noel." Noel nodded and stood up, letting Ashe lead him out the room - though he gave Richard a small wave. It seemed he was too drowsy to give a smile, although Richard wasn't - he grinned as he watched the two disappear.

Back to the task at hand... the steaming bowl of semi-translucent yellow broth sitting on his lap. He spotted noodles at the bottom, as well as some peculiar shaped carrots... hearts? Stars? He couldn't tell - and he didn't want to spend any more time pondering, as the growl of his stomach prompted him to pick up a spoonful and shove it in his mouth.

Ahh... comfortably warm, such a nice taste. His mood immediately brightened as he took another bite, opting to pick up some noodles as well - man, Ashe's cooking never failed to amaze him. He wished he make food as nice as this - he wasn't envious, though. He remembered Noel's words.

'Everyone has talents - abilities they are confident where others are not.' ...That really stuck with him. He found himself reminding both himself and others this. It was no use comparing, anyway. He's learned how useless that was after years of doing so.

"Hellooo! Noel's sleeping peacefully, it seems. How are you liking the soup?" Snapped out of his thoughts, Ashe appeared again, and instead of standing in front of him like he did before - he sat down on Richard's bedside with a smile. A really, really cute smile.

"Oh... uh! It's good. It's really good." Richard peered down at the soup with a smile of his own. Now is not the time to think about how cute he is. Shut up and drink your soup.

"I'm glad! I wasn't sure what type of soup is your favorite, so I went with instinct... Not sure what I would've done if you didn't like it, however, since there's nothing else left, hehe..."

"What are you talking about? I got groceries last night." Richard put his spoon down, looking at Ashe with a bewildered expression.

"...Huh? When?" Ashe asked, his smile falling as he looked back in the same confused manner. "I didn't spot anything in the fridge."

"Oh. Then where did it go? I could've sworn I left it on the counter..." Richard picked the tray up, placing it beside him as stood up, stretching a little.

"Ah- Richard! You really shouldn't get up-" Ashe protested, standing up along side him.

"I'm fine, it's fine. I got those groceries at like, 12 am in the morning - I'll be damned if they've been lost or something." Richard responded, padding over to the kitchen. Ashe followed suit, a bit frantic to see Richard up so quickly.

"See? Here they are." He pointed at the bag on the counter.

"...Those don't look like groceries, Richard."

"Huh?"

...It appears that Richard was not used to late night shopping, as the things in the plastic bag consisted of a bag of potato chips, a chocolate bar and... a bag of spinach?

"...What on earth went through your head when you bought these?" Ashe queried, taking the bag of spinach out and examining it.

"I dunno man, I think I wanted something sweet and then remembered groceries and just." Richard shrugged. "Bought it and walked right out."

"Well- pfft." Ashe let out a few giggles as he placed the spinach back. "I appreciate... whatever this is meant to be."

"Haha." Richard laughed on his own. Not his proudest moment, but he'd honestly give anything to see Ashe's smile. Ah, he could feel the butterflies in his stomach... or was that nausea? Oh no.

His knuckles turned white as he gripped on the table, a sudden bout of vertigo washing over him - he should've expected this, honestly. Getting up and getting out of bed in the span of a few minutes - it's no wonder he didn't collapse when he got up primarily.

"Ah- Richard! Are you alright?! Do you not feel well-?!" Ashe jumped - his cheery expression falling as he saw the younger boy in distress.

"I'm fine, it's fine, just give me a second-"

"You're not fine at all, Richard - you look incredibly ill!" The teal haired boy protested, placing his hand on Richard's. "Come. Let's go back to bed."

“But-”

“No! Do not tell me but! You’ll just make your condition wor-”

"...I... I'm not..."

"Hm?"

"...I don't think I can walk..." Richard whispered, his face now crimson. He was trembling quite noticeably - he hated looking weak infront of anyone, Ashe being no exception. In fact, he was especially afraid of looking cowardly before Ashe - he wanted to be dependable.

"...Hmm. Here." Ashe spoke decidedly, and got up from his chair. With a few swift movements, he put his arm under Richard's legs, swinging him around and wrapping the other around his back. With a small grunt, he lifted the olive-haired boy up slowly, and looked down at him with a smirk.

"Comfy?"

"Shut up." Richard mumbled, his face in his hands - he was blushing madly. He could hear a few laughs coming from above - and then slowly, they began to move. His stomach decided to voice it's concern with the sudden movement, however - Richard was struggling to keep the soup down, clenching into Ashe's shirt as he squeezed his eyes shut.

And in only a matter of seconds, he was placed somewhere, and the arms left him - no more movement, but he was still equally as dizzy - not daring to open his eyes (in fear of the room warping before him).

And only until he felt a bump, an unfamiliar warmth, and two arms wrapping around him, did he open his eyes - only to be greeted with a familiar dark green fabric. There came a small hum of content from above him - Ashe had decided to accompany him in the bed, it seems.

"You don't mind if I cuddle with you for a little, hm?" Ashe asked, idly rubbing Richard's back with the palm of his hand.

"...No, you're... you're really warm..." Richard smiled, leaning further into Ashe's chest. No longer flustered, he felt... really drowsy...

And before long, he had fallen asleep in Ashe's arms. Following suit - even though he was barely tired - Ashe's eyes slid shut as he sighed quietly. He could feel his worries washing away with Richard's warmth - truly, he felt safe.

No. This warmth wasn't a feeling of security. It felt much more passionate than that - and as Ashe drifted away into unconsciousness, he recognized the feeling. Love.

Radiating from both him and the boy in his arms - the feeling of finally getting what you've longed for...

He was loved.

#richashe uprising #ashe bradley #richard lopez #witch's heart #long post #this took longer than i would've hoped for #let me know if there's any mistakes!

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ex-vengeancedemon · 3 years

Text

Averting Disasters and Other Ways to Avoid Your Problems

Chapter 4

Characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Mentions of things that occurred in Angel: The Series season 5.

Main Pairing: Buffy x Spike

Characters: Buffy, Spike, Giles, Willow, Xander, Andrew, Faith, Dawn

Summary: Set in 2008, five years after Spike’s resurrection at Wolfram & Hart. Buffy is living in Cleveland guarding the hellmouth. Spike has left Angel and company and is hiding out in Chicago. The Scoobies are scattered. When something starts going wrong with the slayers around the world, it’s time to get the gang back together.

Masterlist & Chapter 1

"Well it's not like I'm thrilled to see you either!" Spike retorted. "Always buggerin' up the works! What are you gonna do? Whine the slayer's sane?"

"How? What? How?" Xander stammered, blinking rapidly.

Xander seemingly hadn't changed much in the past 5 years. He was still as incompetent and irritating as ever. Although - Spike would admit - both he and Willow did look a bit older. Some might even say a bit haggard, like they hadn't slept right in a year or two. One thing was certain, the ponce's wardrobe hadn't improved a lick. Even Andrew had him beat there. Sad really.

"I'm sure there'll be plenty of time for interrogate the Spike later," Spike replied, waving a hand at him. "Maybe when we're not, say, dealing with a wave of off their nut slayers?"

"You were dead," Xander continued, pointing a finger at him.

"Yeah. And now I'm not. Of all people, you lot really shouldn't be so surprised. It's bloody impossible to stay dead around here."

The shock factor had yet to wear off. A more generous part of Spike's mind knew he couldn't really blame him. The only other person to come back from the grave was, well, Buffy. And people had wanted her back.

"Xander, later," Willow told him. "We need all the help we can get. Especially since we can't ask any of the slayers. It's just us on this one."

"And the librarian," Spike drawled.

"Where is Giles?" Xander asked, finally composing himself a bit.

"On his way." Willow stood up and dropped a book in his hands. Xander coughed as a plume of dust puffed up in his face. "Well?" Willow pressed. "What are you waiting for? Research won't do itself."

Xander took a seat at the table next to Andrew, noticeably at the furthest point away from Spike. Unsurprising really. Git had always had a chip on his shoulder. But, if they had to make due with non-slayers, he supposed Xander might not be... the worst. Although his arrival did beg the question of the one missing party.

"So where's everyone's favorite little ex-demon, eh?" Spike asked. "Anya retire from the Scoobies? She always was the smart one."

The table froze, the rustling of pages coming to an abrupt halt. No one made as if to answer and a grim silence descended over the room. Spike no longer needed their answer. It was clear from their faces. Anya was dead. Gone. Six feet under or what all.

Spike's sardonic demeanor vanished.

"How'd it happen?" he asked quietly.

Andrew sniffled a bit, wiping at his eyes. "She um... she saved me. She died during the attack. You know, at Sunnydale. Same as you."

Xander and Willow remained dry-eyed. Willow's eyes were downcast and she carefully avoided looking at anyone or anything in particular. Xander's face was hard, an uncommon sobriety plaguing his normally lighthearted countenance.

Xander scoffed and shook his head, the frown lines deepening on his face. "In what world is it fair that you come back, and she doesn't?"

"Only the twisted kind," Spike mumbled under his breath. He didn't think Xander heard.

"Xander, that's not really fair," Willow replied softly.

"Yeah. It damn well isn't," Xander snapped back.

A tense pause persisted before Andrew's shudder broke the silence. He had his head in his hands and looked like he was still grieving her all these years later. Guilt will do that to a person.

"I'm sorry," Spike said louder. "She was... well she was one of the good ones."

"She was," Willow seconded with a terse nod.

The room fell back into that uncomfortable silence that had started when Spike mentioned Anya's name. A moment of silence for you, our dearly departed. Buried beneath the rubble of Sunnydale. Gal deserved better. Who the bloody hell didn't?

While the rest of the gang continued with the barrels of books and the magic of boredom, Spike perused the magic shop's other wares. He had no idea what half of the junk did, and he was a bit wary to find out. With his luck, he'd go poking around and wind up a toad.

He picked up a small golden mirror and almost dropped it when he noticed his reflection staring back at him. Only it wasn't him. It was the face of a decaying corpse, rotted through almost to the bone with sickening tufts of hair jutting out at random from his skull. The reflection had no nose or eyes, just gaping holes into the abyss with tendrils of black smoke slowly curling out. He hurriedly put the mirror back face down. Windows to the soul my ass. No more magic mirrors for this vampire.

Spike shook off the disturbing image and made his way over to the cash register in search of a quick distraction. Sitting neatly next to the register was a leather-bound book labeled "Bills of Sale". Had to be a ledger of sorts. Spike flipped through it and spotted Willow's name pop up more than a few times. She'd been quite the little Wicca since he'd been away. Giles' name cropped up a couple times as well. 'Course it did. And then his finger stopped on Buffy. It seemed she had ordered a few things from the mystical multi-dimensional magic shop from hell.

It listed her address. Right there in Cleveland. It couldn't even be that far. Maybe ten kilometers.

Spike glanced up at the gang. They seemed engrossed with their books and chatted sporadically amongst themselves. Part catch-up, part theory, part shared anxiety.

Andrew got up to pull another book from the shelf and Spike slipped out from behind the counter. He made as if to casually pass by the table - as he had done multiple times before already - just as Andrew turned back from the shelf. Spike rammed into Andrew's shoulder, causing him to drop his book.

"Watch it Watcher!" Spike snapped. "You'd think a Watcher would be better at watching where the hell they're going."

Spike continued to mutter under his breath as he walked away from Andrew's somewhat confused apologies. Spike smiled as he gripped the keys in his pocket. A lifetime of delinquency came in handy every now and again. Who was he kidding? It came in handy all the damn time.

***

Spike parked Andrew's car on the curb just outside of Buffy's house. At least, it was the house the address at the magic shop had listed. Dusk was just falling and Spike was sure the Scoobies had noticed his absence by now. He had only circled the block six times. Just to be sure. Hard to tell sometimes with... addresses. With specific house numbers. Maybe that six should really be a nine. Who knows? Could happen.

The house was small. Spike supposed it didn't need to be big if it was just Buffy living there. Seemed odd. Buffy living alone. In a city with none of her old mates. A lot had changed since he died. He wondered if anything had stayed the same.

Lawn looked like it could use a mow. It was a bit unkempt and probably angered some suburban Homeowners Council or what all. But the rest of the house looked nice. All cookie-cutter with that early 90s retro-chic vibe. Bloody hell. Now he was just stalling, examining the bloody architecture.

Spike took a breath and opened the door of the car. The neighborhood wasn't busy and the streetlights had just come on. He made his way up the concrete walk to the front door. Moment of truth.

He rapped on the door and waited for what felt like an eternity. Maybe she wasn't home. Then he heard a shuffling from behind the door. Finally, the door opened, and there she stood. Radiant.

"Buffy," Spike said, barely managing to get the name out.

Seeing her again, alive and standing in front of him, was so much better than revisiting the memories. It struck him that her face had started to fade from his memory the way a worn picture does when you carry it around in a wallet for years. And a picture is nothing compared to the real thing. A shadow of a person. Less than a flat, lifeless imitation.

She gave him a puzzled look, her brows furrowing together in a familiar way. "Spike. What the hell is going on?"

He finally noticed the blood that soaked the front of her shirt and the disarray of her hair. Mud coated her bare feet and a deep gash ran up her calf. Spike could smell the blood. It seemed old. Something was very wrong here.

"Come in," Buffy said, stepping aside to let him pass.

Spike hesitantly stepped across threshold. She pulled him the rest of the way inside and slammed the door shut behind him, immediately jumping over to the window and peaking out behind the curtains at the street as if she thought he might have been tailed. It wasn't exactly the reception he had been expecting.

"Spike, what's going on?" Buffy asked, whirling on him. "Where am I? How'd I get here?"

Spike glanced around, looking for any clues as to what might be causing this bout of frenzied panic. To no avail. The inside of the house looked just fine. Not very lived in. Bare bones. No overturned furniture, no broken glass. Some muddy footprints. But overall, fine.

"You're in Cleveland," Spike said slowly. "Remember?"

Buffy shook her head, becoming more agitated. "Why? Does this have something to do with The First? We need to get back to Sunnydale, now."

#btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #btvs fanfiction #buffy the vampire slayer fanfiction #spuffy fanfiction #spuffy #spike x buffy #averting disasters and other ways to avoid your problems #chapter 4

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callmeunstable · 4 years

Text

Angels & Demons - Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Characters: Reader, Godling, Savilla, Jaskier

Summary: After finding a friendin Jaskier their friendship get tested. Unsure of the danger ahead Alva tries her best to live in the village.

Warnings: Cursing, Blood, Death

Words: 2.000+

A/N: Hey! This is the fourth part of my fic. It took really long this time due to personal problems. I’m sorry but it probably will happen again. Thank you for you patience and enjoy!

Disclaimer: GIF’s and PNG’s are taken from Tumblr and are not mine! Credits to the creators!

Tags: @marvelbrat @charliestuff

Song:

“Did ya hear the rumors?”

“The folks are saying the Nilfgaards want to overrule Cintra.”

“That’s never been a secret, mate. Cintra will fall and we all know that.”

“Got to hell. Our Lioness is strong. Don’t ya ever doubt her skill.”

These were the latest accusations browsing around the village. Cintra, the kingdom Alva was currently staying, was about to fall. The men were right when they're saying that. Even Savilla was under tension these days. She said they could arrive any day by now.

The Lioness was the Queen of this state. Calanthe of Cintra, known also as the "Lioness of Cintra" and "Ard Rhena" called by the Elders. The mother of Pavetta, and grandmother of Ciri. She was known for her bravery and beauty. That is at least what she figured while serving in the tavern. She heard tons of rumors but couldn’t understand what that meant for her.

Sevilla had already started packing the most important goods and she collected all the money she received. Rarely spending anything except for once. She bought two horses. They weren’t expensive she said and necessary for traveling.

When the Nilfgaards want to overrule Cintra the will stop here. Their town was called Walen. It’s close to the capital of Cintra. Where the Queen and the King had their castle. It may be a small village but you will get everything you need in this town. Food, animals, tailors, and a blacksmith.

Overall this village was not a poorly town. It had more than enough money to keep everyone well fed through the winter, which was a rare thing in this century. They didn’t necessarily depend on other nearby villages. They made everything they could need by themselves. Sevilla already had a plan figured out. James was still living in his forest and promised to alert them directly if he’d see something unusual and he would try to save them some time. In the beginning, Alva didn’t understand why the had to take all these precautions until the mage explained it to her. The Nilfgaardian Army was strong and powerful. They raided villages, stole their good, and raped the women. Their goal was to overrule Cintra, which means they wouldn’t hesitate to torture the people living here to receive any information they would mark as useful.

It was horrible and disgusting but it was the way this world worked. You have to protect yourself because nobody else will.

The job at the tavern kept her busy. It was quite fun now that Jaskier decided to stay. She liked his singing and his humor, even if sometimes he’d get on her nerves. He was flirting with every woman he could come across and needless to say, it didn’t stay with flirting if the girl agreed.

Gladly Jaskier understood rather quickly not to tease Alva's patience because she didn’t care about the girly behavior this world was used to. She was quick with grabbing any nearby object and chasing the bard with it. Once or twice even with his lute.

She would consider them both as good friends, which is why she was asking the bard about his plans when the Niflgaards arrive. “They don’t scare me. I’m not scared of anything. I could even get some new stories to tell in my songs.”

The bard was sometimes naive but he assured Alva that he knew what was coming and that he will be prepared.

Another day another workday for Alva. It was all peaceful and quiet, especially in the mornings. She liked that shift a lot. But not today. She was the first server to enter and she quickly realized that. Dozens of mugs were laying on the floor, bear and gin spilled everywhere.

“Was there a party I don’t know about?” Alva let that question settle in the room, soon recognizing that no one was there to talk to.

“All right, fuck all of you then.”

“Why you gotta be so mean all the time?”

The mumbling sound of Jaskier's voice broke the silence and Alva spotted his hat in one of the corners of the room. The rest was hidden behind a barrel. He looked rather ruff. His Jacket was thrown on the chair beside him and his shirt was unbuttoned pretty far down. Thankfully he had his pants still on.

“Because you're sleeping quietly in your corner while I have to scrub the floor that you probably spilled you drink on.” Alva throws her bag at Jaskier, hitting him right in the belly.

“That was uncalled for. And to be exact it wasn’t only me. The men last night were enormously friendly and gave everyone a drink for free. Let me tell you it was fantastic.”

“Glad to hear you had a good time. Did you earn more than usual.”

“Probably. Can’t remember if I shall be completely honest.”

That sounded like typical Jaskier.

Alva grabbed some towels and a bucket, filling it with water and soap. She dipped one into the liquid and searched for her target. Jaskier was standing a few meters away. His back was facing her.

“Don’t you know that turning your back to someone is just plain rude.” And with these words, the towel was being thrown, right on Jaskier's head. But the bard didn’t seem to mind the wet cloth sitting on top of his head.

“What the hell are you doing Jaskier?” The girl made her way over to him, to take a look at the interesting thing Jaskier was concentrated on.

She didn’t like was she was seeing. Jaskier had opened her bag and grabbed one of her leather notebooks, Sevilla gave her exactly 3 of them, so she could keep track of this world and for anything else, Alva wanted to write down.

“You lied to me!” Jaskier let out an offended sigh. “You are a bard yourself and you didn’t tell me? I'm deeply offended, Alva.”

Alva tried to snatch the book out of his hands, unsuccessfully. “Jaskier, I will kick your ass! Give it back!” Jaskier was probably about 1 ½ head taller than Alva. That made it far more difficult.

“Why would I? These are amazing. Why did you hide them from me?”

“I’m not a bard Jaskier. I just like to write songs, get it?”

“You have to sing for me sometime or at least allow me to use some of your poetry.”

“For Christ's Sake Jaskier give me the book or I will kick you in your balls and that is a promise.”

Jaskier's shocked eyes stared her blank in the face. “No need to threaten me. But I've heard worse than that.” The bard still didn’t give the book back. Alva was struggling to get hold of his arm, that he held far up in the air.

“That’s so romantic. May I quote ‘I've been hiding for so long, these feelings they’re not gone, can I tell anyone?’ What a poet you are little girl.”

“Jaskier I’m begging you, please stop!” Alva knew what the next line read. And she knew in which time frame she was captured. This will not end well.

“Why this is adorable! ’Afraid of what they'll say, so I push them away. I'm acting so strange.’ Does someone have a crush on good ol’ Jaskier?”

“Jaskier you don’t want to read further trust me.” Alva stopped reaching for her journal. It wouldn’t change what would happen next, she was too small and Jaskier to stubborn.

“’ They're so pretty it hurts. I'm not talking 'bout boys, I'm talking 'bout’ … oh.” There it was. Would he hate her now? Was she about to be abandoned from this village? She had no idea what would happen next.

“I’m sorry, Alva. I didn’t me to intrude your privacy.” Jaskier looked ashamed. That was a surprising sight. He quietly closed the book and handed it to her. She grabbed it and stuffed it bag in her back.

“You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?”

“No, don’t be afraid. I don’t mind that. It’s just a bummer, I thought you had a swarm for myself. I guess I was wrong.” Jaskier let out a friendly laugh and scratched the back of his head.

“Wait, you don’t hate me?”

“Why would I? I mean I’m fond of women myself so why would I blame you? I’m just a little bit disappointed. I thought maybe I had a chance to win you over, at least for a night.”

Alva punched Jaskier softly in his side.

“You’re a douche. But if you want to know. I still think men are attractive. But in my opinion, women are as well. So why exactly decide?” Alva tried her best to explain Jaskier with the easiest way that she’s bisexual.

“Does that mean I still have a chance of winning you over?” Jaskier's typical smirk was setting and he wiggled with his eyebrows.

“Technically yes, but no thanks.”

“That was disappointing.”

The day went quietly after this. Alva was happy about the fact that Jaskier didn’t mind her sexuality at all. He was indeed a great friend. He kept it a secret as he promised. And he didn’t change one bit.

A couple of weeks later they were walking back from the village that was next to Walen. It was a one-day march but it didn’t bother them. Sevilla sent Alva to get herbs she ran out of and Jaskier gladly announced himself as her companion. He didn’t want her to get lost and a woman should never walk alone, in his opinion.

It was only about a half an hour walk left, they were just arriving in the forest of James when they saw black smoke rising from the direction they were heading. “What the hell?” Alva didn’t understand what that was supposed to be. It was new to her that the village people used smoke signals.

“That’s not good.” Jaskier started to run, Alva behind him. What’s happening? “Why are we running?”, called Alva so Jaskier was able to hear her through the cracking branches they were running over.

“I think Nilfgaard reached Walen! Hurry!”

Anxiety was crawling up her throat. This couldn’t be real. Sevilla warned her but she never took it that seriously. She thought this would never happen.

“Alva!” The familiar voice of James was ringing in her head. The Godling used this method a lot to talk to Alva without needing to be seen.

“What is happening, James?” “Nilfgaard raided the village not even ten minutes ago. You need to run away! Not in the direction of the village! It will be your death!” The Godling was panicking like a child. His voice sounded helpless.

“I have to make it. I need to see if Sevilla is okay. Can you shield us? I beg you, James.” Alva needed to flee with Sevilla, she was not going to leave her there. “I try my best. But there are too many. You won't have much time.”

“I don’t need long, just help us!”

In the far Sevilla's house came in sight. It looked like normal, only the pots and jar outside the house were broken.

“Be quiet. I saw some soldiers not far from here. It's Nilfgaard. We have to leave!” Jaskier was pushing her in a bush, trying to have at least a little bit of cover. Screams and cries became audible. Uncontrolled and painful.

“Sevilla had a plan. I need to get her. We have horses. You can come with us Jaskier. But I need to get Sevilla, do you understand?” Alva was determined.

She was not going to leave her. She was like a mother to her, all this time. She gave her a home when anyone else would have left her to die. The girl pushed the fabric of her dress aside, grabbing the hidden dagger.

“You are crazy! Going in there.”

“You will not stop me.”

“Alright then. Let’s go, you crazy girl. When we die, at least we’ll die together.”

They were slowly approaching the cottage. Trying to make out any sound.

“There is no one around you. You can enter.” James was back in her head. Alva didn’t hesitate anymore, breaking through the door.

It was horrifying. Everything was broken. All of the herbs were ripped out of their pots. All of their clothing was laying ripped on the floor. The fireplace was burning and tons of papers were stuffed into it.

But the worst thing was yet to come. Sevilla was laying on her stomach. The back part of an arrow was sticking out of her back.

“Sevilla!” The girl let out a shrieking scream. Jaskier quickly covered her mouth and held her in his arms.

The was so much blood. All of her clothes were colored in a dark red. She wasn’t moving anymore.

“Alva, you need to listen to me.” Jaskier was grabbing her face and trying to get her to focus. “I know this is hard but you have to grief later. She wouldn’t want you to die here. You told me she protected you, I understand. But we have to leave.”

Alva was frozen, not even noticing her tears falling to the floor. “I can't keep them away much longer Alva!” A panicked voice ripped her out of her trance state.

She wouldn’t want her to die. She has to live for her. “T- The rug. Under the rug.” Jaskier pushed the carpet aside and a hatch became visible.

Jaskier opened it and there were 6 bags stuffed together. Each of them grabbed three.

Alva was still looking at the corpse of Sevilla. She was lost in this world once again. No help to escape it.

“The horses! Where are they, Alva?” Jaskier started to panic like the girl.

“Behind the house in the shed.”

Both ran outside, with a last glance at the mage they left. The horses were still outside, visibly unsettled.

“Help me saddle them. Hurry up!” They fixed the straps and secured the bags. While doing that a not fell out of the pockets attached to the saddle. Quickly picking it up she stuffed it on the inside of her pants.

“You need to ride with this dress. Are you able to do that?” Jaskier wanted to make sure the girl stayed focused. It was the most important thing at the moment.

“N-no, I can't. B-but.” She held up her dagger and sliced the fabric of her legs. Ripping every single part of it off her body. Anger was building up in her body. “Stop that! We don’t have time for one of your outbreaks. Get up! Now!” Jaskier helped the girl on the horse and fastly climbed on the other one.

The horses picked up on speed. They could sense that they were in a dangerous situation. Alva looked back at the small village she called her home. But now she has to travel into the unknown with a bard my her side.

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blissfulalchemist · 4 years

Note

"Why... why did you just take off your shirt?" + "Does my being half-naked bother you?" for Victorious Secret

Thank you for this Kate! Here’s more of their new canon!

Fourteen days. That’s how many days in a row Wes had seen Chance, including weekends, from exactly six in the evening until nine at night, except on Fridays when Chance had a lab night and they met for some dinner in the dorm hall from five to seven thirty. Wes didn’t mind, even if it was late on the weekends, good parties didn’t start till ten anyway, he got to be with him and get to know him, well, as much as one can in between research for their project. It was Saturday with the only difference being that for once they started earlier in the day, the deadline a week away. Chance’s nerves must have been starting to get to him as the two were in his dorm instead of the library, their textbooks and notebooks sprawled across the floor with no care as Chance didn’t have to share his room for the next week.

Wes felt himself start to nod off as the words became blurry and lost their meaning the more he looked at the textbook trying to annotate it to Chance’s standards. They had been going at this for almost four hours straight. Wes rubbed his eyes looking up to Chance as he sat in the cloth chair next to the desk, his feet propped on the ladder of the raised bed, eyes glued to the supplemental book on Jar Head’s approved list. Wes stared at him, noticing the way Chance’s mess of curls were starting to fall into his eyes as he shifted sliding down farther off the chair, Wes felt tempted to brush his brown hair out of his eyes, make life easier for his friend, It looks like it could be really soft. Chance blinked a few times before looking over to Wes, his green eyes sparkling in the last bit of sun filtering in, “You getting lost?”

In your eyes, “No,” he said, looking back down finally realizing he hadn’t turned the page in almost thirty minutes. Time to give up, Wes thought as he adjusted himself on the futon sofa below the roommate’s bed.

Chance looked around the room frowning, “Have we been sitting in complete silence for the last,” he glanced over at Wes, “What time is it?”

“Almost four.”

Chance’s eyes widened, “Four hours?! We’ve been sitting in silence for four hours,” he groaned leaning back covering his face with the book. “No wonder I’ve been staring at this page for at least thirty minutes,” his voice muffled by the book.

Wes couldn’t help but notice the way Chance’s shirt pulled up his body exposing a sliver of his abdomen, “Break time?”

“Damn right,” Chance said, tossing the book on the built in desk, rubbing his tired eyes, “Should we get dinner?” He looked out the window behind him, watching as the big snowflakes started to fall, “Dorm food or order in?”

“Not hungry,” Wes said, stretching out his muscles.

“Dude, I haven’t eaten all day so you haven’t eaten all day,” Chance pointed out, “Here toss me my phone.” Wes picked up the red and black phone in its case flinging it his way, almost hitting Chance in the eye, Oops. “Careful,” Chance opened the phone scrolling through the places that delivered to the dorms and weren’t that far away, “You ever had Pita Pit? Never mind don’t answer that. You probably haven't,” Wes gave a small shrug, Chance wasn’t wrong. He placed his order pushing his hair back, “You want me to pick for you or do you want to scroll through the menu?”

Wes held out his hand, “I’ll do it.”

Chance handed it over standing up, reaching his hands up to the ceiling, distracting Wes as he watched taking in Chance’s lean muscle that he could see as his shirt raised up. Wes quickly looked down to the phone quickly picking something that looked good, “Get a breakfast one too,” Wes looked up through his lashes, at Chance as he pointed out the window with his thumb, “In case the snow gets bad and you gotta stay here for the night.”

“Oh,” Wes looked back and just ordered whatever Chance had ordered, “That why we came here?”

He nodded, “Yeah. Here all day cause of the deadline, Seed hates us, and lastly, perfect timing that my roommate went ice climbing with his family.” Chance took the phone back placing the order, “What should we do while we wait? We can play games, power nap, or watch a show.”

Power nap, “Whatever you think best,” Only one useable bed.

Chance rubbed the back of his neck moving to sit with Wes, “Maybe some games while we wait,” he said grabbing the controllers, “Might fall asleep and miss the food with the other options.”

“Can we nap after,” Wes asked.

“Yeah,” Chance patted Wes’ shoulder, “Sure big guy. We can nap after we eat, you’re not leaving until nine anyway,” Wes gave him a smirk, “Unless the weather gets bad.”

“Right,” Wes agreed, his mind saying silent prayers for blizzard-like conditions.

Chance handed over the controller, “You fine with fighting games, or do you want to play something like Halo?”

“Uhm,” Wes hadn’t really played any video games, sure he watched when his two roommates played against each other but he never joined in. “Fighting….games?”

Chance was turning the console on getting ready to sift through the digital library, “Sure. I got Mortal Kombat, Blazeblue, Injustice one and two, Marvel vs Capcom three, uh, let’s see what else,” Chance leaned forward looking at the squares on the screen.

“Whatever’s easiest to play,” Chance looked up to him, his green eyes curious, Wes gave a shrug looking away, “Never played.”

“Huh,” Chance leaned back clicking on a game that Wes didn’t catch, “Thought you would have.”

“Why’d you say that?”

He gave a shrug, “Cause of your roommate, the short one.”

“They’re both short,” Wes retorted.

Chance gave a laugh, “Fair. Everyone’s gotta be short to you, except maybe me on a good day.” Chance turned the tv volume down, the sound loud enough to trigger a small headache, “The not so hot one. She dresses in flowers.” Wes knew which one he was talking about now, “Anyway I remember seeing her at the game store, she kicked some ass during the Injustice tournament, thought you’d have played against her at home.”

Wes shook his head, “No. Wren plays with her though.”

Chance gave a sly smirk, “Plays with her or plays with her?” Chance laughed getting a small shove from Wes, “Joking jeez, but Wren though, that’s her name. Pretty,” Chance said her name once more giving a small nod, “More serious note, are they together? Are you all together, like some kind of poly thing.” Wes gave him an exasperated glare, this wasn’t the first nor the last time Wes had been asked this, Chance held his hands up, “No judgement here, just curious is all.” Chance snapped his fingers to point at Wes, “If it is though, you’re one lucky guy, get to go home to them every night, livin’ every guy’s dream.” Chance turned back to the tv the game starting up.

Wes hesitated in answering, he could easily lie and say that Wren was taken, stop Chance from ever trying to hit on her. Then again, “No. To all of it.”

Chance gave a slow nod, “Nice.” Wes knew Wren wasn’t that into guys like Chance, but if he believed it then maybe he’d come around more. Chance’s phone lit up as he got the beginner settings set up with Wes’ controller. It was a text message from someone saved as 413, asking if he’d come down and help keep them warm with the incoming snow tonight. It was cheesy and Wes noticed there were a few other messages like that on his phone, some with names more cryptic than the others.

“You’re popular,” Wes commented, Chance glancing down at his phone rolling his eyes.

“Gotta block ‘er,” he shook his head, “Texts me twice a week at least. Don’t want to hook up with her again ‘nd she can’t take the hint apparently.”

“Whatta ‘bout the others?”

Chance handed the controller back over to Wes, “What about them?” Wes took the controller, “You’re here, don’t have time for them.”

Them, he keeps saying them, Wes turned the words over and over as Chance explained the game, Was it possible that Chance was bi. Could I actually have a shot at this? By the time they started playing Wes forgot all the basics that Chance had just explained, hitting whatever buttons he felt would do something. It wasn’t lost on Wes that Chance held back letting him get a feel for the game and it’s mechanics, which just meant that Wes was able to become semi-competent in the team Chance helped him pick out.

“Alright now the real competition begins, button masher,” Chance said as he picked a new team for himself.

An idea came to mind, Wes unable to stop his mouth from holding it back, “We play like strip poker?”

Chance didn’t even look Wes’ way, “Yeah, sure man. Whatever you want.” Wes gave a small, sly smile before turning to the screen. The fight itself didn’t last very long even with the second round that Chance started to really determine a winner, then again it didn’t help that Wes only learned one move for each character he could successfully repeat to do more than just basic punching and kicking. Chance threw his hands up in victory as Wes set his controller down in his lap, pulling his shirt over his head. Chance did a double take, “Why-Why did you just take off your shirt?”

“We’re playin’ strip fight,” Wes felt his heart race, “like strip poker.”

The slightest bit of red started to creep up Chance’s neck, “Uh. Oh, well, I thought you were asking to play Street Fighter after this.”

Wes swallowed, sifting for another excuse to want to pull off the impulsive idea, “It’also kinda hot in ‘ere.” He heard Chance hum a tune Wes didn’t recognize, “Sorry.”

Chance shook his head, his eyes looking over Wes’ bare chest briefly, “It’s fine,” Chance felt the blood make its way up his neck higher towards his cheeks.

Wes felt himself at an impasse as to what his next move to be, after seeing the brief, very brief, running of Chance’s eyes on his body. The blush was hard to make out of it being from being uncomfortable or from some form of attraction. On the one hand he could keep up the temperature lie, see if Chance would look at him again, or just put the shirt back on and hope he didn’t just screw things up. “Does it bother ya? Bein’ half-naked ‘nd all.”

Chance blinked a few times, “Well, no, if it’s too hot in here for you. Hard to control the temperature in here,” he stammered, heart racing and ignoring the pull in his abdomen. “So if you want to you can stay as you are. Shouldn’t care too much anyway cause it’s just toxic masculinity and all that.” Chance needed to shut up, he looked for a change in subject as he rubbed the back of his neck, his cell phone ringing. He let out a breath of relief as he recognized the delivery driver’s number, “Looks like the food’s here.” Chance made his way to the door grabbing his keys, “Go ahead and pick something for us to watch,” he switched the lock on the door. “So no one walks in and gets the wrong idea about you. Some of the guys here can be mean,” Chance justified seeing the worried look on Wes’ face.

Chance walked out the door, quickly making his way to the stairs to walk down the ten flights to the lobby. Wes sat, his heart slowing as he put his face in his hands, rubbing his temples, “Hope I didn’t fuck up.”

#x: victorious secret #It's wholesome and I love it okay!

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writingforyourpleasure · 4 years

Text

ON THE ROAD AGAIN

Characters: GERARD WAY x Reader

Link to chapter four : https://writingforyourpleasure.tumblr.com/post/616411340391759872/on-the-road-again

Warnings : None

Author’s note: Hello ! Hope you’re all doing okay during those strange times ? Sorry for not posting but I had my en-of-the-year exam, but it’s now done and , I only got a few homework to hand-over now and my second year in college’ll be done !Here you go thank you to keep reading .

5. “ Pun-master “

You woke up, feeling something or someone moving in front of you . You started to groan at the uncomfortable feeling not wanting to get up just yet.

“And what owe me the pleasure to be assisted by your presence tonight sir Way?” You said while looking for plates.

The mass finally moved away , listening to your complains .

You woke up what felt just five minutes later but probably was in reality hours after it. Your eyes fluttered slowly as if they were disconnected from your brain. A light shine from the outside was peeking through your tinted window as soon as you truly started to wake up , you realized that Gerard wasn’t here anymore.

“Right…” You breathed out to yourself. Honestly you didn’t want to wake up. You were scared , scared of overthinking this , and because of that you actually was overthinking it . Your brain wasn’t playing on your favor . You didn’t knew how you were gonna survive today. The worst was, you didn’t knew how to act with Gerard , what happened yesterday night wasn’t that big of a deal, really , but again ; you were overthinking it . You just wanted to act normal with him , and was prying your brain to not let you down once you’ll see him. You felt so stupid for having a crush on one of your coworker and friends. You got up and hoped for the best.

You got out of your nest , only to find that you were alone in the bus and that you already had arrived into the next parking’s venue . You went directly to the kitchenette and groaned realized that you guys were short on coffee. You finally resigned yourself and went for the shower.

You got out of the bus a dozen of minutes later to find the parking lot empty except for the security that was already keeping everything on check. You checked your phone to see that it was 3pm . You had enough time, to get yourself a coffee somewhere and not stressing about when to comeback since you didn’t had to repeat with Dex or anything. You put back in your , old black Green Day’s hoodie, pocket your phone . You’ve dressed yourself as unfashionable as it is socially allowed , your laziness was clearly reflecting itself through most of your actions today. You put your headphones on , listening to the last Fever 333’s album and searched on google maps for the nearest Starbucks, once again a reflect of your laziness you figured.

You arrived to the welcoming smell of dirty beans being ground and hot milk.

Once you got your order you looked around for a seat since the place was pretty full, luckily you got one in front of the glass and on both sides what appeared to be two couples . Great. You hope that you’ll be lucky and won’t have to witness the same amount of smooshing in both of them. The teenage one , on your right , were the ones all over each other, with the boy groping at every part accessible of his what-you-presumed-to-be his girlfriend. The one on your left were two men in suits holding each other hands while talking , you sat facing the widow and the other empty seat. You got out of your backpack your sketch book and a pencil starting to draw people passing by while music took you in other world. A tap on your shoulder took you of guard , you got off your headphones .

“Yes ?” you turned around your head to see who was trying to get your attention.

“Hey, is this seat taken ?” Dex was smiling down at you with a big smile.

You said nothing instead kicking the seat in front of you, back to the glass for them to seat.

“I feel like it’s been a while since we talked .” Dex said sitting and looking expectantly at you.

“What are you talking ‘bout we talked just yesterday.” You said not looking up from your sketch book.

“Don’t play dumb y/n , you know what I mean. Like just the two of us ?” Dex sighed , seeing that you decided to not play cooperative . This time you did look up to your friend with a blank expression . Watching their eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It’s true , lately you tried to somewhat distance yourself since you were trying to figure out what the hell was happening with Gerard and you knew that being close to Dex would not help one second . Your friend knew how to read you even when you tried to hide something as well as you could. You had thinked that if Dex was about to ask questions it would make it weird since you were all working together . If you fucked up at any moments , you’ll have nowhere to hide and sometimes it can be a great deal of pain . But apparently you didn’t succeed not to make it awkward since your friend was not so happy that you act a little colder than usual . You were already fucking cold to any strangers , so to be cold to them was shitty. You sighed and run a hand through your now greasy hair . You needed to take a shower quickly , maybe it could wait after the show .

“Hey earth to y/n, hellooo?”

“Huh yeah sorry I was gone for a few…”

“Yeah no shit .”

“Sorry… like for all of it it’s true I’ve been kinda avoiding you guys.”

“Meh it happens , I mean it’s okay we all got our own problems.”

Dex tried to stay warm inside of the Starbucks but you could sense that being against a cold ass window wasn’t helped them to get the warmth that provided the Starbucks.

“I’m so cold….” They whispered as they took a gulp from their drink.

“Well….then stand in a corner .” You replied taking a large gulp of your hot drink too.

“What-Why ?”

“Think..”

“No….. please tell me it’s not because of what I think dude.”

“Coz’ corners are 90 degrees.” You said with a smug smile.

“Ho god …. Ok you know what maybe it’s for the best to be socially distant haha. It is so bad please do not do that again?”

“You’re asking way to much to the pun master .”

“More like the master of fucking nothing y’mean .”

“What did you said peasant , I think I didn’t quite hear that ?”

“Ho nothing .” said your friend smiling like a fool.

“Y/N I’m still fucking cold !” Said your friend trying to warm themselves up by rubbing strongly their arms.

“And how is that my problem , my dear?”

“Someday I really am going to kill you , y’know?” Told Dex between their teeth, with a little grunt along the way.

“Y/N , Can I borrow your scarf? I’m seriously freezing. ”

“Well I can’t turn into a heater for you now can I? So do you want me to set you on fire? Because, I mean it’s still an option? Like I have my lighter right here so….?” You joked while giving them your scarf.

They gave you a warning glance as if they believed you . Then on a very exasperate note they sighed and said :

“Why are you like this?”

You both laughed at that getting some curious looks from other clients. Once both of calmed down you try to get serious talking about the elephant in the room .

“Hey , can I ask your advice on something?”

“Absolutely , but I only advise communication, homosexuality, or murder.” Answered your friend earning a smug know-it-all smile out of you.

You were about to start to get off of your chest the whole “Hey I think I may or may not like the lead singer of the band for which we’re working for.” They cut you off.

“WAIT!”

“Yeah ?”

“Are you absolutely positive this isn’t dangerous or something?” They looked very serious about this , which had the reflex to make you roll your eyes deep inside your skull.

“I’m 95% sure, but yeah, I’ve failed fourth grade math so…” You decided to answer her stupid question with a stupid answer.

“Ho okay then we’re good I failed second grade! So just before we start , how long will this take ? I got to pick up my dog at the salon. «You both laughed at that. «No but like seriously we’ll have to go back to the bus eventually . Maybe tell me along the way back?”

“Alright , alright” You both got up from your seats and finally got out of the Starbucks.

“So huh, you remember when we got the 1 week break , alright?”

“Right. “

“Well huh, me and Gerard started talking by text pretty often during this time.”

“Ho. Did you now ?” They said waving their eyebrows in a suggestive way.

“No not like that calm down, you demon fuck .”

“Always a pleasure to fill my responsibilities.”

“You weirdo….” You whispered under your breath.

“Ho do not act if you aren’t even weirder man ! “

“Anyway, I just , I don’t know . I think, I think I may like him y’know?”

“Well it’s pretty comprehensible , I mean he’s hot .”

“I’m not talking about this you twat!”

“Ho c’mon you can’t say he isn’t !”

“Haha ,He is , I ‘ve sight too I’d let you know. It’s just not the point here .”

“You do? Sorry it’s hard to tell when you dress yourself like that .

“You bitch!” You choked on your drink , coughing violently.

“I’m just kind of dreading to really assuming the whole ‘hey by the way I’m hitting on you’ I don’t want to make it weird during the tour , when we’re not even at the half of it. And I don’t wish for everyone to see that I am hitting on him. I’m not ready.” You explained to Dex , not really wanting to expose everything you and Gerard said or do , foremost because there’s not that much to say

“Maybe not hitting on him is a good call since if you do I’m pretty sure he’s gonna freak out hearing your lame puns.”

“May I recall to you that I’m the pun-master AND the master of pickup lines ?”

“You completely suck at pickup lines, bro.”

“No I don’t !”

“The last time you tried one of you’re pickup lines was on this poor cute girl in Louisiana when you said ‘Are you Google –“

“CUZ YOU’RE EVERYTHING I’M SEARCHING FOR !!!”

“Yeah no wonder it didn’t worked !”

“I’m a genius , you’ll miss me when I’m gone.”

“You wish . So why are you’re feeling attracted to the guy ?”

“Well you see my kink is when people actually care about my feelings and what I have to say. And Since I know him he seems to correspond to this criteria , so I find it pretty attractive and hot since it’s my main kink.”

“Yeah , too unrealistic. Settle for bondage like the rest of us.”

“Where you ever nice Dex ?”

“2012, worst year of my life.” You laughed at what your friend said . “No but more seriously y/n, just let it happen y’know? And when you have the feeling that both of you are having a moment then maybe hit on him but stay subtle y’know?”

“I just want him to take me out…”

“Like, on a date or with a sniper ?”

“He’ll have to surprise me .” You both laughed before changing the subject to the little surprise you’ve both had planned for Max, since he was spending all of his nights and days working on your band , you wanted to do something nice for him. You bought a cookbook a few weeks ago for him as a present for the occasion, he often baked pastries as a distressful way to exhale from work time. Even though the bus condition made it hard to cook anything big it already was a good start. And you bought some bottle of Irish hard cider, since he had said it was the best thing he ever tasted when you all took a vacation to Dex family house there. After getting back to the bus everything went pretty fast , but the talk with Dex about Gerard was still playing in your mind. Ames saw that you were lost in your thoughts most of the time and ask you several times if everything was okay, you tried to act like you didn’t knew what he was talking about and you all moved on with your day . Mikey, Frank , Gerard and Ray were already in your bus when you had come back from your coffee session, and they yelled at you for not texting them and taking them with you. You brushed it off saying that next time you would. Gerard had tried to share looks with you during the day but you were too much caught up into your head to notice.

The show this night was nice and almost too short even if you guys took a ten minutes on My chemical romance planning since you played a special song. Once you were backstage Ames and Billy started their routines taking everything off stage to let place for the boys. To go faster Max offered to help them. It gave you and Dex a chance to run to the bus to prepare your little plan. You took any cushions , pillow and anything fluffy you could find , when you were done the bunks were quite a mess but you didn’t want to think of it since you still had to prepare the hard cider and the cake you brought from the Mark & Spencer’s not having too much time to find anything else. By the time everything was served , you knew that My chem was done with their show too , so you decided to prepare them a part too , you made a point to serve a apple juice instead of the cider for Gerard , not wanting him to feel excluded or anything. Max had been held backstage by Billy and Ames who were your dearest allies as ever.

You installed yourself with every plates and drinks giggling between the two of you alone in the bus to stupid jokes.

A knock made itself hear through the bus and Billy appeared into the kitchenette area before being followed by Ames and Max , who where looking at you with huge smiles spread across their face and a snort from the three of them.

“What the fuck did you do with our beds ?” Asked Max between a laugh.

“Well we did a pillow fort !” Answered Dex.

“Isn’t that a little childish ? “

“Does it means you don’t want to join us ?” You asked Max.

A silence swept through the bus.

“…Move over .” Said Max entering your huge pillow fort and already going for the cake and drink.

“Wait there’s a party and you guys didn’t told us about?! “Said Frank entering your bus.

You handed a plate in his direction , earning a smile from him before he arrived by your side as well as everyone else too.

Frank was on your right while Gerard was on your right and all of you were in a cercle eating and joking about stupid stuff.

“Hey you look better than this morning it’s good to see.” Whispered at your side Gerard offering a sweet smile before readjusting a few locks behind his ear.

“Well It’s because in the end we migrate towards comfort , and I realized that I am most comfortable around you , all of you.” You said returning a bright smile to the man.The night went along before Frank spoke up .

“Guys how are you gonna clean this mess to sleep tonight ?” Painful groans made themselves heard from all of you.

#fanfict mcr #frank iero imagine #frank iero x reader #gerard way imagine #gerard way x reader #mikey way imagine #mikey way x reader #ray toro imagine #ray toro x reader #gerard way fanfic #gerard way fanfiction

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smolbeandrabbles · 4 years

Text

Loser Like Me - Intern!Nolan Sorrento x Reader (Ready Player One)

GIF Credit: X @crawlingmist @mandy23b @wltz-bby @happyskywhale #MendoTagSquad

Babe you’re platinum all the way

Author’s Note: Before we even begin - Mini Series for sure! Also I’ve never seen anyone do this before me, so here we are!

I know by now if you’ve been following this blog for any length of time you know how much I love this man. With my heart and soul. However - there’s a particular scene in the movie I just... really don’t like. It’s the Intern scene. I won’t go into a whole lot of detail, but it hits me deep on a personal level, and I hate that it’s played for laughs. I thought it needed some ‘rectifying’! And came up with this little series. 😊 I really hope you enjoy taking this journey with Nolan, as much as you have my others!

Disclaimer: RPO characters/storyline not mine / whilst following what they did with him in the movie, some of this will be influenced by Lacero (because of course it will!)

I wanted to write a quick note about his age! I headcanon every Mendo that does not have a canon age as the same age Ben was when the movie was shot. So... For RPO that’s about 46/47. Making Nolan 47 in 2045. The intern scene takes place in 2025. Making Nolan, as stated in the fic, 27.

Premise: Nolan Sorrento has a head full of dreams that he’s sure will be actioned by the OASIS creators any day now. But fetching coffee is all anyone at Gregarious Games thinks Nolan is good at. Lucky for him, you see things a little differently...

Words: 6397

Warnings: In general - people being douches to Interns. / swearing

_____

Yeah, you may think that I'm a zero But hey, everyone you wanna be Probably started off like me You may say that I'm a freak show But hey, give it just a little time I bet you're gonna change your mind

All of the dirt you've been throwin' my way It ain't so hard to take, that's right 'Cause I know one day you'll be screaming my name And I'll just look away, that's right

Push me up against the locker And hey, all I do is shake it off I'll get you back when I'm your boss I'm not thinkin' 'bout you haters 'Cause, hey, I could be a superstar I'll see you when you wash my car

Just go ahead and hate on me and run your mouth So everyone can hear Hit me with the worst you've got and knock me down Baby, I don't care Keep it up and soon enough you'll figure out You wanna be, You wanna be A loser like me

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The alarm went off at 6:40am. As it did every day – but Nolan Sorrento was already half way ready, and had to skid out of the bathroom to snap it off, before any of his neighbours complained again. Sometimes he just couldn’t sleep – and he felt it probably wiser to just get up and get on. Sorrento’s head was full of ideas, ideas that he knew would help him make it big someday. Hopefully right here where he worked, at Gregarious Games… once he got a job that wasn’t an internship, that was. And - when he wasn’t fetching coffee, or running papers, or trying to book meeting rooms and call other people that worked around the company as requested by those higher up - Nolan would sit with his notebook and plot out what his future would look like, and the tech he would use to get there, whether it be available right now, just within reach, or something that one day he’d be at the forefront of making. He dreamed, because right now that was all he could do. Nolan had a job and that was enough to be thankful for, he had his life… which was more than could be said for some people. Sweeping back into the bathroom he studied himself in the mirror for a moment with a small sigh. He liked to give himself a daily pep-talk, because there wasn’t anyone else that was going to do that for him either. ‘Okay, Nolan, you got this. For real this time – they’ll ask you to fetch coffee and then you can walk in and be like… Guys! Your OASIS project – what about if you did this-!? How can they not love it? Maybe they’ll bump you to tech? Maybe they’ll make you a partner!’ It hadn’t worked out for him so far, but he could dream – maybe today was the day! He gave himself a firm nod, running his hand through his thick dark blonde hair to neaten it (at least the highlights were going to look good once he got into proper lighting!) and then dashed from the bathroom again; throwing a suit jacket on – that didn’t match his outfit but was good enough – he looped his pass around his neck, grabbed his keys and his satchel before heading out of the door. No time for breakfast, he’d think about that later! First things first; getting into the office. It was still nerve wreaking for him to walk up to that office with coffee; it used to give him shakes just thinking about maybe getting the coffee order wrong, but now he knew he had that down. Nolan knew that Gregarious Games was on the verge of something not just great, but phenomenal. People all around the company treated it’s two founders like Gods, and Nolan knew exactly why – he was doing the same. They were creating the seemingly impossible; giving people an escape from the hell that everyone was living. The longer he was here, the more Nolan gained confidence – Morrow at least knew his name now, and he was also privy to the fact that not everyone got to interact with these two as much as he did. It came to the point where he actually liked being asked to fetch coffee for them, because he’d get to try out a new idea. “-What about this-?” “Maybe later, Nolan, thanks for the coffee…” “But I really think the OASIS could just use-” “Thanks, Nolan. Really, but it’s a busy time.” “Well maybe-” “Nolan…” Then he had to walk from the room with a deep breath and try not to get so disheartened. No matter, there would always be tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that… on into infinity. But Sorrento smiled gently, one day he’d come up with something that would be so mind-blowing they would have to listen to him! And he was getting close, he was sure of it. With that thought, he jogged back down the stairs, confidence sky high. “Oh-! Nolan-!” He turned to the voice calling him, “Yes?” “Could you come help me with something… I’m not exactly sure what I’ve done wrong on this presentation… I just can’t fix it…” “Sure-!” “OH. And, whilst you’re at it, would you mind picking up my printing? Thanks, Nolan!” He blinked several times watching them walk away passed the printer, and then sighed again – well, he still had a ways to go yet…

Nolan was aware that there were people in this company who didn’t like him, that thought he was strange. The pop culture he consumed was obscure at best, or... not obscure enough at worst. Nolan liked the modern stuff, the early millennium. The remnants of Y2K... where everyone lost their heads thinking computers and clocks would all stop working. Apparently, that wasn’t highly valued, and everyone thought that the 80s was where it was at. Nolan wasn’t sure of that himself, and thought maybe most of them were just posturing because that was the era that Halliday and Morrow were obsessed with. It made sense; they’d grown up in that time. Nolan was just far more nostalgic for things he’d grown up with - than a time he didn’t even really know.

Other people he figured didn’t like him for other reasons, but he’d never quite got the opportunity to find out what those were. Only that it felt a lot like being shoved up against a high school locker again. And he was 27. There were a couple in particular that liked to get physical; only this time they decided to do it when he was carrying two full cups of coffee. “Whoops-” “Shit! Sorry-!” As if he sounded anywhere near it. “It’s okay though right, that’s your job, you can just make more.” If he wasn’t already on a time limit, “And clear that up whilst you’re at it.” “What do you get a full employee badge for making coffee anyway?” “Oh no-! You read that wrong mate, it’s just an intern one.” “Ah-! Not permanent then? Coffee can’t be that good-!” “Less permanent now-!!!” Nolan bit his lips together, because he knew what would happen if he retaliated, these two were full time employees that (probably) had way more important jobs than he did. He knew which one of them was more likely to be walked out of the door after a confrontation, and he needed this.

“Do you two assholes want to leave him the fuck alone-!?” They all turned, to an impatient looking woman standing with her arms crossed. And this would be a moment that, although he didn’t know it yet, would go down in history in Nolan Sorrento’s life. For this was the moment he met you. You could not have been glaring at them both harder - and felt that for the man stuck in the middle, it was pretty fortunate that you walked by. “Y-Y/N-!” “Don’t give me that, why don’t you go bother someone else-!?” “But he-!” “Is trying to get coffee from point A to point B, I didn’t realise Gregarious games hired children these days that would be such a hindrance. Why don’t you get back to your desks and do your jobs-!?” They didn’t dare argue with you – skulking off, although muttering profusely. And Nolan was nearly speechless, but also realised there was coffee all over the floor: “Ah-! Ahhh-! Shoot-!” “No, no, no...!!” You moved towards him, hands gently pushing him back to standing; “I got this, you go make them again...!” “No, no, I can’t leave you to-” “Nolan, it’s okay... I got this...” He stopped suddenly; now he would know if he’d seen you before. He would. Nolan was good with things like that. He opened his mouth, but you ushered him back towards the kitchen; “I’ll help in a moment, just let me do this!”

Sorrento didn’t know what else to do but wait for you in the kitchen, by now he probably could have gone outside and got a coffee order, but in you walked, throwing away whatever you’d used to tidy up the spillage. “Good thing I like the smell of coffee...” You wiped your hands and turned to him, with a gentle smile; “Sorry about those guys. They’re self-entitled assholes who shouldn’t have the jobs that they do. Alas, I am not a hiring manager... are you alright?” “Oh, it’s nothing I can’t handle.” You nodded, “I can see that.” “F-forgive me, Y/N...” that is what they’d called you, “but...” “Oh; I’ve heard all about you - Nolan Sorrento. And your ideas!” He looked away for a moment, aware that he was blushing, “But also that you make one hell of a cup of coffee...” that just made him blush harder. “You also do a little bit of work in my department, so I’ve seen you around. I could use a mind like yours, y’know? Maybe I’ll have to get you in for experience...” You nodded to the half-made coffee; “I’ll help, if you teach me how the boys upstairs like it.” “Oh... y-yeah sure...” Nolan moved aside as you crossed the kitchen, “What’s your department?” “Technology. So, they do all the ideas and spec and testing, and my team codes it. We also run all diagnostics on errors, though the less we see of those the better!” “Your team-!?” “I like manage like 2 people, it’s nothing.” But Nolan was staring at you like all his wildest dreams had come true. “...Wow. That’s... that’s incredible-!” “If I could get the right people in my team, it’d be more so...” You eyed him curiously, “And somehow you’re only an intern?” “I’ll take what I can get.” You giggled “Until one of the big plans comes off?” “Yeah I guess...” That faint shade of pink was back “I admire that.” “What?” “The confidence to tell Halliday and Morrow your thoughts. The imagination it takes to have ideas like that. It’s cutting edge stuff, Nolan. I couldn’t do that - I am more... the girl who executes the idea. And turns your dream into a virtual reality... but I don’t have such a knack for original content.” You gave him another sweet smile that had him turning quickly back to the coffee; “Now why don’t you teach me how to do this - and I’ll explain why it’s a little late.” “Y-yeah... lets... do that!” ***

Overall Nolan was pretty harmless, he kept himself to himself and did every task that was asked of him. You made a point of finding him to say hello, and chat to him for a few minutes every time you passed his desk. And you noticed that when you approached him he always looked quiet and subdued, but by the time you moved on he was joyful and animated and it always hurt you to have to move on. Still the smile on his face didn’t fade after that. He was full of endless enthusiasm, and more importantly than that – something you felt Gregarious aught to be paying attention to – he was hungry, if work didn’t come to him he’d seek it out, Nolan certainly wasn’t afraid of doing that. Every so often he’d be walking by with someone and you’d catch a snippet of another great idea that filled his head – but more often than not was met with “That’s great, Nolan, but…” You were amazed to see this didn’t deter him; sure he’d look disappointed, but he didn’t give up. Sorrento’s attitude and personality intrigued you, and one afternoon when he was leaving for another coffee run, you made a point of walking with him. That soon became habit, as did joining him for lunch. It didn’t win you a lot of friends, and more often than not you’d be asked ‘What the hell are you thinking!?’ ‘Yeah, Y/N! You actually have talent!’ ‘Nolan Sorrento is never gonna amount to anything. He’s pushing 30 and all he does is make coffee.’ You didn’t understand why, or how, anyone in this office could pick on him. And why everyone just let them get away with it. Your defence of him was ruthless. “He’s a fucking INTERN, not a coffee boy – oh my god! It’s about time someone actually taught him something about the business. Nolan’s got a head full of ideas and if no one else is gonna utilize him, I fucking will – because it only takes one job ad or someone to recognise what he has and he’ll be off to IOI!” “They can have him.” “You know what, screw all of you! When Nolan’s running this place and you’re all begging for jobs, I hope to God he remembers what you did to him.”

Nolan was wasted here. But you didn’t want him to be wasted here; he was at times a little too unconventional for your game makers, given his little corner of pop culture (not that he’d opened up to you a lot about that, but occasionally you got a glimpse of it by what he referenced and laughed at), or a little too ‘business’ for your co-founders - monetization was practically a curse word… Yet Nolan had a mix of talent that barely anyone else in this company did, and no one was giving him a chance to use it. Worse still to you – an Intern, who should be learning everything the business has to offer and be given every opportunity to get stuck into it, was doing not a lot more than fetching and filing paperwork. And sure, you were younger than him, but you wanted to take this into your own hands.

“Hey!” A smile was already present on his face before he looked up; “Hey!” “You busy today?” You folded your arms on top of his desk divider; Nolan looked a little shifty; suspicious of you for a minute. “I mean, I got plenty to be getting on with…” You gave a disappointed sigh; “Aw, see I really needed your help with something.” “…Really!?” He wasn’t about to hide that shock – Nolan hadn’t done anything directly tech related for your department before, and that was your exact remit. “Yeah, but if you-” “No, no!” He stood, “I’d love to help, that’s what I’m here for, right?” You couldn’t help yourself, and giggled, “Did you just become un-busy?” “…Yeah. Yes, I think so.” Nolan placed his hands in his pockets with a grin, and waited for you to tell him what to do; “Awesome, let me show you around tech central!” You beckoned him to walk with you, “And for the record, no, I was pretty sure intern meant you were also here to learn, and I’ll be damned if I don’t teach you something. How’s your coding?” “Not a strong suit.” “What did you study?” “Uh… Business and economics… just touching on computing as a minor… why?” You turned back to him very nearly shocked; “At College!?” “Uhm. Yes?” He’s a College grad and we have him paper pushing, my God, no one is ever hearing the end of this! But you just nodded, “What’s the dream Nolan?” He became bashful, looking away from your face for a moment, as if he didn’t dream – or as if every dream he’d been working for was suddenly stupid; “Uh. I…” “C’mon, everyone has one…” You touched his arm delicately, “Hand on heart, ten years from now, when you’re close to 40, where do you wanna be?” Sorrento looked a little affronted by your close to 40 remark but held his tongue; “Uh. I guess, I’d like to be in charge of a company like this one.” “Good man, right answer.” You swept him into another room – a neat row of 5 desks on one side, and one on the other – no barriers between you – the single desk was covered with paperwork; in the centre a flashing image, highlighting what various coding pieces were about to address in game. You indicated for him to sit at a desk in the row of five, and joined him. “And you?” “None of my dreams are really to do with work…” You shook your head, “I mean, sure I’d like a couple of promotions but I’m kinda okay where I am – as long as I still love what I’m doing. I’d just like to help people, you know? And the OASIS might help people… So,” you breathed, “I’d like to make people happy, and I don’t know how measurable that is, but I think I’d feel pretty good in ten years’ time if I managed that!” Nolan watched you for a second, and your gentle smile, and wondered if you’d even realised that for him at least you’d already completed that goal. Maybe he’d keep that back, for now – but he knew that in ten years’ time he wanted to look back on this moment with you and say “I was your first! You might not know, but it was me!” *** You set him a series of tasks and challenges and, as you did so, explained his way through them, who they were for and the effect that doing them would have on the business or the OASIS itself. Your team kept to themselves but you’d let them do that for now, the group was a little insular and he was an outsider right now, they’d warm to him; you worked with nice guys – not like the assholes who behaved like grade schoolers. Every so often, performing your own tasks, you would ping Nolan a calendar invite. “…What’s that?” He would ask you, and you would tell him “Oh! That’s a meeting with the Head of Marketing… Finance… Engineering… PR and Communications… HR…”, the list was endless – but if you had to create an intern program for him for yourself, you damn well would. You were a little more social and a little more pushy, so you knew you could get him working in all the teams and on projects that actually meant something – starting with your own, then he’d have something to show for it. All he needed was a little boost and a shot to his confidence and Nolan would be away; it was already obvious that he believed in his ideas enough – now you wanted to give him the knowledge to back it all up, and finally let him use what he already knew.

By the end of the first day Nolan was a little worried that he hadn’t finished all the tasks you had set, and as your team packed up and left for the night, he looked nervous. “Nolan, you okay?” “…I mean I… I still have a few things to do- I-I’ll finish them, I guess I might just be a little late.” You sighed; “Nolan, you’re an intern, honey – you don’t get paid overtime, just finish them tomorrow – It’s fine.” “…T…Tomorrow.” He swivelled his chair to you but didn’t dare look hopeful, “You want me back?” “Yes, of course I want you back, I told you I need you right now! With all that’s going on so close to launch we’re getting stretched pretty thin, and what better place for you to get stuck in than the midst of all this! I mean you’re getting coffee for ‘em, might as well get your line of code in the finished product too, right?” You stood, slipping your jacket on, “That desk is empty, by the way. I don’t really like the idea of you sitting alone out there…” Blush dusted his cheeks again, “You sure they won’t mind?” You scoffed; “Nolan, by the end of the first week they won’t even notice you didn’t sit there before today! Now come on! Go home!” You were right of course, and by day three your team of two were saying good morning to him, and asking how his evening had been. It took Nolan a little while to answer, because he just wasn’t used to it. By the end of the first week it was ’We’re just heading out for coffee, would either of you like anything-!?’ which you liked, because yes, someone should be asking him which coffee he wanted instead of him fetching it. And by the end of week two you were all sitting together at lunch, and when everyone took a five-minute break, Nolan got to participate in office banter and shit talking. “Guys! May I remind you that our office doesn’t have a door-!” “Oh come on, Y/N! You out of all of us are the one most likely to go off on these idiots!” Nolan turned to you, “You do have a tendency to come back from meetings, throw your notebook down and proceed to tell us how much you hate everyone.” “OHHH!!” The other two started howling with laugher, “OH! He’s got ya, Y/N!” “First off I hate all of you! Second, I also hate that you’re all right-!” But you liked this, and you already knew it was doing wonders for him. Sure, from time to time people would swing by and ask if they could take him off you for a second, and he did still do the infamous coffee run; but you let him go at his own discretion. What you were happy to see, was that his old desk started clearing, and Nolan’s files and notes, and everything he’d had on it managed to find its way into your little side room. That’s when coffee started appearing on your desk every morning. Nolan was always in before you, and had clearly expertly memorised your coffee order. At first you thought it was a simple and sweet one off, but it kept happening. Upon telling him he really didn’t have to do it for you, Nolan would smile and say; “Oh! It’s really the least I can do. After all, look at all you’ve already done for me…” Still, you became grateful to see the cups, and as you sat contentedly with them before you started the day you always noticed him beaming out of the corner of your eye; you only liked to pretend you didn’t. About three weeks into Nolan’s stint with you, the project you had him working on was nearing completion, and your intern was fretting about if you’d have him move. “Nolan, you don’t need to panic – you can still sit with us, there’ll still be plenty for you to do here. Besides like I say, once we finish this everyone is going to want to work with you anyway – and seen as you’ve had most of the introductions, there will be things from them to work on – so you can get your holistic business overview!” He’d been through most of the meetings that you’d set up – and as you suspected, some of them weren’t even aware there was an intern to give any work to, leaving the program entirely in your hands. Your boss didn’t seem to mind too much, and it wasn’t interfering with what you were doing otherwise. Eventually you just let Nolan get on with the meetings himself, and given his background all you seemed to gain from it was positive feedback. ‘He’s great!’ ‘I know. But tell him that!’ You thought he was ready for his big break; and breaks didn’t come much bigger than this one; “Hey, Nolan, you’re on first name basis’ with Halliday and Morrow right?” He raised an eyebrow curiously, “Yeah, I guess.” “I got a feeling you know this project pretty damn well by now.” The two in the corner turned to give positive affirmation to this statement. “Uh huh?” He tipped his head, intrigued as to where this might be going – although the looks on their faces told you they already knew; “How’d you like to help me present it to them next week?” ***

If this was the chance that he had been waiting for, then it was huge. Nolan didn’t show it, not on his face, nor in his stance. He was two steps ahead of you on the presentation but he always asked if what he’d done was okay, and everything you told him to add or take out he considered very carefully. “You didn’t have to do this all yourself, you know.” “I just wanted to take pressure off the team. I dunno, if one person works on it, I guess it also looks a little more polished.” You let him have that, and what he created in the end was one of the best presentations you’d ever seen. Using space effectively, but also very minimalist. “Slides don’t matter so long as you explain them, that’s the backing. You’re the draw.” “Someone paid attention in class-!” He beamed at your recognition, “Yeah. I did.” So it was no surprise to you that he presented well. Except Nolan didn’t just present well, he presented to Halliday and Morrow like a professional – and at every moment you got, you allowed yourself to simply be in awe of him. Where was this man when everyone else was being a total jerk? The different between Nolan now commanding the room, and the soft-spoken intern who liked to float his ideas around desperately when given even the smallest margin of opportunity was staggering – they were poles apart and even his smile was confident. If this was a technique Sorrento had perfected, he was damn good at it – but part of you wanted to steal a little of that confidence and inject it into his personality. The presentation ended, and you both took questions; the more technical they became the further you were in your element, and you got to close out by yourself. It would have all been perfect, had someone not thrown in a comment about Nolan finally talking about someone elses ideas. You decided to let it go just this once, because you probably couldn’t have been prouder of him. Nolan had done much the same to you as you had been doing to him when it was your turn to do the talking – and with all your focus elsewhere he couldn’t help but stare at you. He could do it for an elongated period of time when he was standing here; with the type of smile on his face that he assumed you only saw in really sappy old movies. At first he thought it was just nerves, you were kind and sweet and friendly and for the first time since Nolan had started he felt really included in Gregarious. That was before you dragged him into your team, and he knew that from this project alone – and the way you continually alluded to his work even through this presentation – that you were getting him all the exposure he would need. But it wasn’t just a nervous disposition, it wasn’t just because you saw him and what he was capable of, but you made him smile. Really smile. And that smile was on his face from the minute he set about getting ready for work, to late at night as he was falling into bed. Even just looking at you now Nolan consciously realised how much he did think about you – how much more you made him enjoy work. You’d done so much for him and he realised he wasn’t even sure the right way to go about thanking you. Still, Nolan wasn’t so sure he just wanted to thank you. Would you even be interested in being anything more than friends with him? – that just came with the risk of losing you completely. And for a second that hurt, because Nolan couldn’t. He couldn’t risk it. Not even when he felt this strongly; saying anything jeopardised his happiness. Right now, he couldn’t afford that. Even if you said ‘just friends’ - surely things could never be the same… It made his question answering a little distracted, but then, even you seemed a little unfocused until you got into your stride; then his smile came back, and Nolan got to watch you do what you did best. *** You left the room and immediately punched the air “YES! YES! NOLAN! YOU DID IT!!!” You shook his arm, “Oh my god-! You were so good!” You were elated; not only had he been particularly commended on his effort, but several people in the room had already asked if he could help them in their areas. Nolan accepted them all, of course, because he knew as well as you did that once he had all the tools and proved himself, those ideas in his head were one step closer to being a reality. And then maybe Halliday and Morrow would finally put them to use in the OASIS. One step at a time Nolan – he breathed – you made it this far but you have a little while to go. Your dreams have to wait a little longer, but… she gets it, finally someone gets it! Nolan laughed nervously, “Yeah it… it was pretty great-! It felt good, for sure. And you were impeccable, I need to brush up on my technicalities.” “You’ll get there. But you-! Where did that come from? How do you even present like that!? You gotta teach me, I’m not a natural presenter at all.” Nolan wasn’t one for letting you compliment him without continuously fielding them back. You both had to compromise and take credit here-! “WHAT-!? No, no, you present really well… I just… I dunno I guess I kinda find standing up there and throwing a project out to a waiting world kinda… easy.” You couldn’t help but agree with him, thinking on it for a moment, maybe that’s why he was known so much for ideas around here. For the way Nolan would always pitch them; even though his personality would make him out to be a quiet wallflower who did as he was told. Your team were waiting for you when you got back, and seeing you both joking together made them look at one another with knowing smiles. They wondered if you even realised it yourselves yet. You’d been oblivious before, they’d seen it – but Nolan was positively swooning. Yet, you were giving off vibes like you were interested. They’d grabbed a spare packet of confetti from the last time one of the team had a birthday, and as you both entered the room laughing they were staring you down. “I feel like we don’t need to ask, but how did the presentation go-!?” “Well, really… REALLY well!” Nolan flashed a grin, causing them to give each other the same knowing look before laughing themselves and throwing confetti everywhere. “Congratulations-! We knew it!!” For a minute he looked at a loss and you were laughing, quickly explaining the significance of throwing confetti whenever anyone did a good job – although you also had black confetti tucked somewhere for a slightly more ironic version of the celebration. It just made things in the team a little more fun. “OH.” He said, as if he immediately understood and ‘of course how could it be anything else? Teams always do this!’ - but Nolan did smile. “I guess it’s back to it now, right?” “OH NO!” Sorrento also noted your team had their coats on, “You don’t think you’re getting away with just confetti – do ya Nolan-!? It’s celebration time-! We’re going to the BAR!” “Oh?” He wanted to say the bar wasn’t really him, that he was a one drink and go kinda guy, and that really he ought to be saving any money he made and not drinking it… But you were pulling your jacket on too and that made him torn. Again they turned to each other, and they almost wanted to lock the both of you in here until you figured it out yourselves, so they did the next best thing. “Well, you two come when you’re ready.” “Guys, it’s gonna take us like five seconds…” You scanned your emails quickly, but as nothing was urgent opted to sign off. “No, no! Take your time!” “Besides, you know how crowded it gets down at Campari’s, Y/N, we’ll get a table!” “First rounds on me!” You shook your head after them, and turned back to Nolan, tentatively pulling on his coat. “You know, you don’t have to come.” “No- I- It’s for us right, I feel like I should.” “Nolan, it’s alright, really – I’m not the greatest drinker, I’ll have one and head home. Okay, maybe I’ll get a round, it’s my team but… honestly, if bars aren’t your scene.” Nolan shook his head vigorously, blonde hair flying for a moment, meaning he had to scrape it back off his face, slight blush maintained; “No. I want to come. Maybe we can leave together and just have one, right?” “That’s good with me.” You smiled, “But trust me, you do not have to stay.” By the time you got outside they were long gone, and you debated for a moment calling a taxi, before you decided it was better to just walk it and use the exercise. “Man-! I forgot something-!” Nolan turned to you as you suddenly stood stock still on the pavement, “Do you wanna go back?” “No.” You shook your head turning to him, “I forgot to tell you something.” His face immediately turned puzzled, and he straightened before leaning slightly away from you; “What?” You took a deep breath, before beaming, “How proud I am of you. And what you’ve achieved. That I’m just… lucky to have a friend like you… really lucky. We’re pretty like-minded, but different enough for it to work. And I really like being with you Nolan, it makes me happy. I’m probably the happiest I’ve been in a long time and… relaxed and… wow… oh my god…” Your smile faded slowly and your eyes widened, you weren’t looking at his face, or in fact anything at all and you could forget about talking. All you’d succeeded in doing was confusing him; his heart did nothing but sink at the word friend, and for a minute Nolan decided he would have to accept defeat… But suddenly you were talking like him – like the way he felt about you – and it was pouring, until you stopped. Why had you stopped when there was so much more to say? Or Nolan hoped there was – but then did he dare even hope-!? He didn’t hold his breath. You pulled your eyes back to him, and suddenly everything made sense. EVERYTHING made sense, and maybe you were trying to repress it, or you didn’t want to see what you thought you saw. Perhaps you just thought it’d be inappropriate considering, and you didn’t want people thinking you were helping him because of your feelings – but because Nolan Sorrento was worth helping. Now you were standing on a street in the middle of Columbus, Ohio, staring at each other and one thing was clear to you; Nolan projected his feelings. But Nolan wasn’t acting on them. No matter.

You stepped forward, minimal gap though there was between you - because of the way you walked together, shoulders almost always brushing - closing instantly as you pulled him into you. Pushing up on your toes your lips touched his. Nolan froze – he wasn’t even sure of the way he should react. Well – in his head he knew plenty, hold you, pull you closer, kiss you back at the very least!, but his brain would not compute the actions to the rest of his body; he was shocked. Because this was really happening. Nolan could count the number of girlfriends he’d had on one hand, one finger even and it’d never been serious. He also didn’t need both hands to count the number of kisses he’d received – and if he was honest, how many of those were real? How many of them were dares the other party never really wanted to be involved with in the first place? Sorrento didn’t want to dwell on that, and closed his eyes, but if he didn’t do something you would let him go and all too soon. That thought compelled him to wind his arms around you. His kiss back was tentative, as he made sure that was okay to do, but you didn’t pull away from him – encouraged Nolan held you a little tighter. His stomach was full of butterflies and when he thought on it later, all his dreaming didn’t even come close to this feeling – more nervous and more confident than he’d ever been in his entire life. Part of him wanted to go back to his apartment, slam the door and scream in joy (perhaps not, though, that’d only have the neighbours threatening him again) – maybe he could just do that in his head. But right now, Nolan was holding you, and that was all that really mattered. You let each other go gently, both a little breathless, both a little blushy, and both with no idea what to say next. “N… Nolan?” “Yeah?” “I…” “I know…” but his voice pitched, “Me too.” You giggled, finally stealing a look back to his face; “But I meant it.” He nodded, blush rising, “I-I know that too. You said… everything I’ve… wanted to say.” You nodded along, and both of you laughed as conversation became silence once more. Nolan took a deep breath; “Let’s… uh… they, they’re probably waiting for us.” “Yeah. Yeah, good shout!” But as you continued to walk, this time Nolan held his hand out for yours, and felt elated as you took it, entwining your fingers with his. He knew he would have to take this one step at a time – but his confidence was suddenly sky high, and Nolan felt about ready to take on the world. You watched him walk for a moment, how he even seemed to hold himself better – strides giving him the look of a man on a mission. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched Nolan Sorrento literally change in front of your eyes. You’d been in relationships before, and although that wasn’t what this was yet, you knew that you were in for a wild ride no matter where it headed. But one thing was for sure, you were going to give him the adorably sweet picture-perfect romance that he deserved.

--- Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed! 😊💜

#Nolan Sorrento #Ben Mendelsohn #Ready Player One #Nolan Sorrento x Reader #There will never be enough Nolan Sorrento on my blog #AMANDA - I can't unsee Cody Ko and this feels like cursed information!!#Special Shoutout to Amanda and Joss for the hair discussion!#150!!!#linzi writes #smol bean drabbles #Thank you Amanda for beta reading parts of this... All the way back in March!#Actually theres a lot of wisps of your ideas from our conversations in here...#It... it gets ropey in places but it's got a strong beginning and strong points SO...#Hopefully you enjoy the baby intern-!!#She's a little Lorena but it also feels like Lorena with the personalities flipped

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bush-viper-cutie · 4 years

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“Malfoy Manor Arrival” || YEAR 3 – Ch.4 (HP au)

Chapter List

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Day posted: 7/21/2020

Word count: 3,131

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

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A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

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They had just left Privet Drive when a bird fluttering overhead under the moonlight, reminded Heather that she hadn’t replied to Draco yet about going over. The witch in the driver’s seat was turning into street after street looking for something and the man was pouring tea for them and talking about how curiously funny Uncle Vernon was.

“I need to send him an owl first!” Heather figured she’d get scolded for bad manners by the Malfoys and there was no way she’d allow Mr. Malfoy to yell at her like he had Harry. In fact, maybe she’d be forgiven easier if she made her stay at Malfoy Manor worth it for Harry and Ron somehow. “Can we stop by an Owl Post Office?”

“Oh certainly!” the witch squealed, “We can drop you off there and won’t have to go near that house! We don’t have to ride in this thing for much longer,” she smacked the car, “GO FASTER.”

They had arrived outside another house with pink rocks lining the driveway. The woman parked the car and got out, tiptoed over to Heather’s side and opened the car door for her and the old man. Confused, she followed their lead, closing the car doors quietly, and watched the witch take her trunk from the back and set it down.

“Um, where are we?”

The witch looked around and smiled, “Not sure, but its best we don’t stay for longer,” and held Heather and the man’s arms while gripping the trunk handle very tight. “We were just borrowing.”

Heather suddenly felt like she was being flung into a tornado, spinning around a million times a second. Her hair whipped around and she thought she was going to be sick when they suddenly stopped and the world stopped spinning around her.

There was a very small but tall building in front of them, sandwiched between two larger much more normal looking buildings, with four owls on the signpost reading ‘Owl Post Office’. The front of the small building looked like more of a quick mart than any post office and all the windows on every floor were lined with very eager looking owls.

“And here we are, just send your owl and the Floo to where you want to go – If it’s a no go from your friend then I suggest you Floo to the Leaky Cauldron. Alrighty!” she held the door open.

Heather nodded and blinked as she stepped into the very bright post office. It smelled like owl and the dinging bell was muffled by the sound of fluttering wings and excited hoots. She dragged her trunk to the counter and greeted the wizard who had been too busy with a crossword puzzle that rearranged itself with every mistake to notice her walk in.

“Oh, sorry ‘bout that,” he held out hand, “Letter or package?”

He had a very low gruff voice, like he’d been snoring for hours and only recently woke up with a sore and raspy throat. Heather quickly wrote out a letter to Draco and rolled it up, handing it to the man.

“‘Draco Malfoy, Malfoy Manor’,” he put two fingers to his lips and whistled.

Heather looked up to see a storm of owls all diving down to his outstretched arm, about a hundred at a time. She yelped and ducked down, covering her hair until the sound of furiously fluttering wings had stopped. The winning owl was a large one, with gold tipped feathers and a very shiny beak and eyes as big as the moon outside.

“That’ll be, er, four Sickles,” he held out his hand again.

She nodded and dug out five Sickles to give him and watched as he counted them up and stuffed them in his pocket. He walked over to the fireplace and threw floo powder into it, creating large green flames. He took the owl flung it through, wiped his hands, and walked back to his chair to continue his puzzle.

“I thought owls flew to places on their own,” Heather tapped on the counter, waiting for a response.

The man balanced a quill on his lip for a minute before taking it and scribbling something down, “Muggles may be unobservant, but I don’t think any of them will miss hundreds of owls flying in and out of this building,” he put the quill back on his lip and pointed at the fireplace.

The green fires returned and the same owl was now back – looking a little sooty – with a green scroll attached to his leg. She held out her arm and it landed gracefully, sticking out his leg for her.

“Thank you,” she took the scroll and unrolled it.

‘Do you have any idea how early it is? If you must come now, then do it. I’ll be waiting by the fire. Remember our deal, I’ll help you with your drills if you help me with mine. If you hold me back, I’ll kick you out and the only Potter on that field will be famous Harry Potter right before I kick him to the ground. He’ll be a famous weeping baby when I’m done with him.

– Draco Malfoy’

She could still turn back if she wanted. She didn’t have to go through with it… She huffed and crumpled the paper up, stuffing it in her pocket. A day, she could stay for a day and see how that went. She paid for the floo powder and threw it into the fireplace. She stuck her hand in and felt the familiar wet coldness of the flames as they swirled around her skin. She stepped in and felt her trunk get pressed into her like they were being stuffed inside a tube.

“Malfoy Manor,” she threw the last of the powder down.

After several disorienting spins she stepped out when she saw a very bored looking Draco leaning against a chair twirling his wand between his fingers. He looked at her unimpressed and yawned as she shook her hair in the fireplace and dusted off.

The room they were in was not very large with two doors bolted shut to her left and a large, carpeted, staircase leading upstairs in the center. There was a door to the left and right of the stairs, probably leading to the rest of the first floor. Opposite the fireplace was a large wall mirror with a bright silver frame and bellow it were two elegant matching chairs. The walls were white with black furniture and green with silver accent colors running throughout.

“Welcome. You’re the first and last Potter to step into Malfoy Manor,” Draco stood straight and headed for the stairs, “Leave your trunk. Our new house elf will get it.”

Heather gulped, remembering Harry had freed their last one a few months ago, “Alright.”

She followed him up to the landing where a giant painting of the three Malfoys hung. Draco must have been no older than six, in his mother’s arms with Mr. Malfoy behind them with both hands on his wife’s shoulders. She followed him up the second set of stairs – the left ones – which lead to a long hall of doors to the left and a wood one to the right.

“That’s the library,” Draco opened the wooden door for Heather to look through, “Your room will be over here.” He closed the door and headed to the very last door, closest to the double front doors below.

She leaned over the railing to look at the pattern of their entrance hall tiles. She turned and entered the room where Draco was waiting, “Where’s your room?”

“Third floor stairs,” he yawned.

“Is… Does your father know I’m here?” Heather hated the idea of having to see Mr. Malfoy. After what he put Ginny through, how could she ever not hate his guts. “Will I see him?”

“Not likely if you don’t come down for breakfast. He leaves all day, comes back late, and on weekends he’s in his study,” Draco exited the room, “Your trunk’s behind you.”

The door closed and she was left alone in an exceptionally large room with a bed big enough for Harry, Ron, Hermione, and her to all sleep comfortably. She pushed the trunk down and winced as it banged on the floor a lot louder than she had realized it would. She grit her teeth and turned to the door, half expecting any one of the Malfoys to barge in yelling at her… but nothing happened.

She breathed out and dragged it onto the floral rug at the foot of her bed and opened it, pulling out her pajamas and propping her broom up on the dresser. She closed the curtains to the windows overlooking their driveway and changed out of Dudley’s old polo that she kept tucked into last year’s summer skirt. If there was one thing Pansy was right about, it was that she was absolutely right about Heather lacking any style.

She climbed into bed and gasped at the softness of the covers, the sheets, the pillows… the mattress! “Ohh!” she smiled and snuggled in deeper. Even the Hogwarts beds couldn’t compare to this. “Next time Malfoy complains about Harry getting ANYTHING – ” she punched the air, “He has EVERYTHING.” Way more than he deserved, and way more than Harry gets for being ‘famous Harry Potter’.

She was about to fall asleep when something tapped her window. She groaned and got back out of bed – the day’s events finally manifesting in her muscles and bones – and pulled the curtains back to look at Hedwig twisting her head in all directions to look at her.

She opened the window, “I didn’t mean get him to write me THIS soon…”

Hedwig dropped the letter from her beak and sat on the windowsill.

‘You should have stayed with me, Fudge had it all worked out. He fixed everything. Doesn’t matter now. Sorry I can’t help you, I’m under strict orders not to leave the area for three weeks. I’ll get all your books though! And I’ll buy you an ice cream? Anyways feed Hedwig when you get this, she kept pecking me.’

Now she knew that the guilt of doing something so reckless they could have gotten expelled never set in for him. She felt less bad about fibbing about her stay at Malfoy Manor, and wrote out a quick ‘Ok, see you soon’ reply. She tied it to Hedwig and let her out.

She closed the window and ran back to bed, knowing Draco would be as bad as Marcus tomorrow during training. Actually, worse since he would have to listen to her when it came to the drills she would make him do. She closed her eyes and fell asleep in the softest, comfiest bed she could have ever imagined.

There was a loud pop, like a firecracker had gone off inside a sealed cauldron. Heather sat up quickly and opened her eyes, squinting at the bright sunlight shining through the closed curtains and noticed the silhouette of an elf.

“Dobby?”

“Feeno,” the elf frowned and pointed at the night table with some water and a breakfast plate. “Master Draco is waiting in the back yard.” He waited for her to nod before popping away.

Heather got out of bed and ran to her trunk, taking out her Quidditch uniform and throwing it on quickly, eating some of her breakfast as she tied her shoes and robes with double knots. She grabbed her broom and opened the door, finding Feeno hunched over a stain on the wood, trying to rub it away.

Feeno looked up at her and sighed heavily, “This way.” He led her down the stairs to the entrance hall and through the right-most door. She walked through a wide passageway with only one door in the center and a large brass lock. The elf led her out another door that lead to the outside.

Heather gasped at how large his backyard was, though she would call it a grass field with a garden along the smooth stone fence. She spotted Draco gliding around in the air, doing loops and diving. He spotted her and sped down to meet her halfway.

“Alright, let’s practice, Potter.” He turned to the elf, “Get the case.”

Heather mounted her broom and touched off, “You could say please.”

He rolled his eyes, “I didn’t invite you here so you could nag. My father heard from Pucey’s father that no one had a guaranteed spot on the team. Flint’s looking for a better Seeker,” he took the case from Feeno, opened it and took out the Snitch and Quaffle, “and better Chasers.”

He shoved the Quaffle into her hands and released the Snitch. She couldn’t believe Marcus was looking for whole new members, though it did make sense. She heard every year he picked only the toughest and strongest who tried out, and her and Draco were neither.

“Potter!” Draco snapped his fingers to get her attention, “I wasn’t joking about kicking you out.”

Heather dropped the Quaffle and flew up to him, explaining the drills Marcus had her do to fly evenly under pressure. They trained on that for several hours – Heather playing the part of her brother and enemy Seeker, very impressed with her own skills that almost matched Draco’s – until he was used to the drills. At one point she had picked up a bunch of pebbles and pinecones and instructed Feeno to throw them at Draco randomly trying to distract him.

Heather wiped her forehead and panted, trying to catch her breath, “Can we take a lunch break? It’s almost two and we’ve been training since ten-thirty.”

Draco shrugged off his robe and draped it over his broom. “Lunch,” he snapped his fingers at Feeno. “Let’s go in, Father’s at work and Mother won’t be back until later.”

Heather followed Draco down and into the house. He led her up a different set of stairs to the second floor, past a giant library full of books and two desks with elegant quills, into a dining room. The table was long and the wood shined as bright as the entrance hall tiles.

He pointed at the chair across from him and sat down. Heather pulled out the chair and sat, looking around awkwardly. The only other chairs at the table were the ones on the ends, far away from each other.

“Why are your chairs so far away?” Heather pointed at the two chairs, “Isn’t it hard to talk?”

Draco laughed, “Of course you’d be confused by it, Potter. Let me guess, in your kitchen and have to share elbow space with those Muggles you call ‘family’.”

She scoffed, “At least none of us have to scream to be heard.”

“No one screams – ”

“I was exaggerating.”

He picked up a fork and twirled it on its tips, “Whatever, Potter. Where’s your brother now, anyways. Doesn’t he miss his shadow?”

She bit down on her cheek and shook her head, “What do you care? Miss him already?” She knew better than to give away Harry’s location so easily.

If they had been allowed to use magic, Draco would have hexed her, she could tell by the way his eyes gleamed with anger. Feeno was back and set two plates of sandwiches and soup. The elf poured them juice and stood in the corner, inspecting the doorknob for smudges.

Heather happily took the little sandwich slices and dipped the in the soup, watching as the bread turned soggy and brown as it absorbed the liquid. She liked the spread between the bread and the lettuce, whatever it was. Even the tomato was juicier than the ones from Hogwarts. The Ministry must prioritize quantity over quality for the food at their school or the Malfoys really knew how to pick their produce.

“So,” she dabbed a napkin on her chin, “What do you do for fun here?”

Draco leaned back and scoffed, “At my house?” He looked around with a slightly disgusted look on his face, “There isn’t anything to do. I fly on my broom or study or… Leave. Over the summer’s I hang out with my friends – real friends – ”

Heather rolled her eyes, “You must DO something though. Don’t you? What if no one can come over or no one invites you over?”

Draco slammed his glass down, spilling juice on the table – which Feeno was quick to clean up, muttering his apologies to his master – and scowled, “My friends are ALWAYS available, Potter. Something I’m sure you couldn’t relate to.”

“Why are you so rude! It’s perfectly normal for people to be busy sometimes. I’m just asking what’s fun around here!”

Draco stood up, “I’ll be in my room. FEENO!”

The elf quickly apparated beside Draco, “Sir?”

“You can show her to hers,” he stormed out of the room, flinging the doors so hard the bounced off the wall.

Harry was right, he did act like Dudley sometimes. It was a simple question that did not call for such a heated tantrum. She took a few more sandwiches and followed Feeno back to her room, passing quickly through the library as if she’d suddenly decide to take a book if she lingered for too long. The elf opened her door for her and pointed at her Quidditch robes, then to a large mirror with a glittering frame.

“Don’t get the furniture dirty. Bathroom’s through there.”

Heather forced the doors closed and sighed, “I get it. I stink.”

She dug around her trunk for a nice pair of clothes – the closest she got was an old lazily-sewn shirt that belonged to Petunia last summer – and her old skirt. The shirt fit fine – somewhat – but the skirt was starting to get a little tight around her hips. She’d have to buy a new one soon.

She walked over to the mirror and stared at it for a while. She pulled on the frame but it didn’t budge like the Gryffindor tower door. She looked at herself in the mirror and raised her hand to touch the glass. It felt solid at first, and then like gelatin. She pushed her hand and felt it go through, reminding her of the pool of water on the roof of the cave from last year.

She closed her eyes and stepped through. She opened them and looked around at the quaint little bathroom with a large tub and silver rose candleholders. It wasn’t too bright, like the Dursley’s bathroom, and felt very romantic in nature. She smiled and looked around, making sure she didn’t have to close any windows or lock any doors for privacy, and turned on the tub.

“Worth it,” she jumped in and soon the argument with Draco melted away.

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#harry potter #pro snape #heather potter #severus snape x oc #severus x oc #snape x oc #severus snape x reader #severus x reader #snape x reader #snape fanfic #snape fan fiction #snape fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

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iam-kenough · 4 years

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Will you ever notice me? Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Summary: During they wandering in deep snowstorm, man from van der Linde gang found odd looking girl and Dutch decides to take her to camp to see if she can be any use, leading life of outlaw with them. Quickly, new girl develops feelings towards Arthur, but he sees her just as a kid...and she won't take that! It's an original character story that starts in the place where Arthur, Dutch and Micah were supposed to first meet with Sadie. Instead she's already with them.

Authors notes: It’s another chapter and you can find the rest of chapter on my blog if you want to read more of my fanfiction. I decided to post all parts I have at once so the fic could catch more attention. Word count: 2503 Chapter 6 Another few days passed and he felt better. Physically. Arthur's head on the other hand was mess. He couldn't start a conversation, he was just following Iris with his eyes, whenever he could. She seemed well now, eating a lot and enjoying her pretty dresses she bought herself being away. She looked different now or it was only his perspective that allowed Arthur to see Iris in very different light. And he secretly loved it. Her hair was bouncy and smelled nice, her eyes were like two emeralds, covered by dark eyelashes and her lips seemed so sweet and welcoming. He loved to look at her when she was chewing them while she was deeply in her thoughts. He just noticed that her pale, slim face was covered with freckles in very pretty way and that she had them on arms too. Arthur tried not to think too much of other freckles whereabouts. But he couldn't now. Now it was different. She was back, safe and it was such fresh and uplifting feeling. Her small breasts were always covered by her dresses, but he could see thru them. He was sure that her boobs would fit his hands perfectly. And this petite frame she has, waist so thin he could pick her up by wraping his arm around it and then those hips, perfectly proportioned. Long, long legs that could wrap around him while they would fuck. Easy now, cowboy. He was lying under big tree and sketching when he heard footsteps. He looked up and saw Iris's face, sun covering her pretty head and making halo around it. - Mrs Grimshaw told me that I will wash clothes or I will hunt something to eat with you, Mister Morgan. - And you don't want to wash my dirty shirts, don't'ya? - I ain't no wife to do such things. Maybe Tilly accepts it but I won't. Wonder why this old rag doesn't do anything but screaming at me - Iris's eyes were throwing daggers towards lady she just mentioned - Anyway, I am ready whenever you are. She was wearing different clothes today and he liked them, even though it was jeans and shirt. He kind of wanted to say it but he wasn't brave enough. With bow on her back and braided hair she was riding her horse, humming some melody only she knew. Iris was following Arthur, who knew better where to hunt in those location. Day was amazing. - What we gonna catch, Mr Morgan? Few rabbits? Maybe a buck? Or... - she giggled - A bear. We would have food for weeks from beast like this. - Pearson would make it uneatable anyway - he smiled under his breath. - That's why I'm back. Tell me the truth, you rescued me because Pearsons stew is poisonous, eh? Arthur couldn't answer. He couldn't not think what would happen to her if he wasn't lucky or damned enough to sit in the same prison as she. It wasn't funny either. - Sorry, Mr Morgan. Already forgot ya hate to talk with everyone around the camp. - I don't hate talking to you - was all he said. They hid in bushes and were waiting for anything big to come and drink from the river in front of their eyes. Minutes passed by and they haven't exchange any word, so Arthur started to sketch in his journal. Suddenly the piece of paper Iris left for him more than two months now fell from the last page of book. He wanted to catch it but she was quicker. - Ha! - she looked surprised, unfolding piece of paper but when she read it she looked rather dissapointed - Why would you keep it? Sure it belongs to trash now. And teared this paper apart into tiny pieces. Arthur got up suddenly. - Why you destroyed something that belongs to me? - He snarled, leaning in her direction. - It wasn't big deal, Mr Morgan, come on. Just some stupid things I wrote to ya. - So...It wasn't true after all? You don't think those things about me? Silence again. She started to sweat when Mother Nature decided to rescue her. Enormous deer with massive antlers was drinking from the stream. She didn't want to startle it by saying anything to Arthur so she grabbed her bow, inhaled and sent an arrow. It pierced deers eye as it whined and fallen down. Arthur looked at her amazed, forgeting that they were falling out half hour ago. -Nice shot, Iris. Iris. That's my name. He never used my name before. - T-thanks I guess? Now we can head back so I won't bother you anymore, eh? - You don't bother me - he whispered but she didn't hear. She couldn't, she was already next to hunted deer. - You don't bother me - he said out of the blue when she entered the room they shared. It wasn't technicaly a room, more than a floor divided by old bookstand with their beds placed on opposite sides of it. But he could see her thru gaps in shelves as she sat down and begin to unbraid her hair. Suddenly he wanted to touch them. - Thank you, Mr Morgan, that's very nice of ya. - I mean...you really don't bother me. Ya said ya bother me ealier but ya don't. - Thank you again, I guess? - she shaked her head like she didn't understand why he was saying that again. - Ya really...don't bother me. I missed ya. - That's very nice of you, Mr Morgan. Mary- Beth told me she missed me too. I gues friends miss each other. Silence. - So you'd still consider me as yer friend? - You talk weird things, Mr Morgan. Why do you even care? We all are friends here, more or less. You saved my life, too. - S-say you like me like you did before - he bursted out, becoming all red. He hoped she won't use his way to look at him now, between dusty shelves. - I like you, Mr Morgan. - No, not like that - he got up suddenly, walking circles near his bed. - What d'you mean? - You said all those t-things to me, back then. I-I want to hear them again. Now Iris became silent. Why was he doing that? She cried enough and she spent really long time telling herself they gonna be friends and only friends. Her eyes became glossy so she closed them. - Tell me you like me, Iris - now his voice were much more clear and she heard him closer. She opened her eyes to see him sitting on the floor. - I just told you that. I like you. - Not like that. She got up slowly and sat in front of him. - Like what? - Like...back then. You know - his face was even more red than his union suit was - like you did when you kissed me. She blushed too as she put strand or her jet-black hair behind her ear. - I don't think I want to say them again, Mr Morgan. They was pointless back then and they will be now. I know I shouldn't fall in love with you, I know that and I'm sorry. - Don't be sorry...- he whispered and touched her cheek. It was nice and soft and also a little bit wet. For his surprise she carresed back of his hand as he touched her. - I'm not sorry for loving you. I'm sorry because I shouldn't say it out loud back then. We would still be friends, robbing trains and killing men - she chuckled - Now it's awkward. - You...You think you still love me? - W-why you doin' that? Just stop, please. Yes, I still love you. - Say it again - he murmured as he inclined to her face. - I love you - she whispered, her body trembling. Arthur kissed her gently and slowly, but his touch was demanding. He wrapped one of his arms around her waist, the other one playing with her soft hair. She smelled so nice and she was warm and her lips were welcoming and she kissed him in that shy way like she never kissed anyone. Iris was kissing him like no one before. It was mainly fact that she didn't kiss anyone beside him in her life. She was trembling under his touch. He smelled still the same way she remembered -cigarettes, whiskey and sweat. It felt like a dream, unreal but sweet and innocent. She parted their lips and looked him into the eyes. - You're warm...and you feel like home - her voice was shy. He barely could hear what she's saying. Arthur cuddled her tightly, rocking her a little bit in his arms. Iris could hear his heart, it's sound bold and loud. - I wanted to talk to you, Iris. 'Bout everything - he scratched his chin again - I ain't good man and you should know it. - You are...we just have diferent criteria. He couldn't help but smile. - I don't want to hurt you, you know? I had girl like you, just as young but much more naive. She had a kid with me. Maybe I don't look like family man but I was looking after them, I brought my son toys but I guess...I wasn't around enough - his voice darkened and he sat away from her. He was looking at his feet while saying all of it. - One day I wanted to visit them and I saw the house empty, completly wrecked. Behind it there was two graves. Neighbours told me that some gang murdered Eliza and Isaac for 10 dolars she had. She let those words sunk in. Now it was easier to understand why Arthur was pushing her away. She furrowed her brows and placed slender hand on Arthur's arm. - I wished you would tell me ealier, Arthur. I would understand you better. He blinked looking at her like she was a ghost. It made her brows furrow again. - I expected you to at least yell - he mumbled out. - Why would I yell, explain. - 'Cause I ain't good man. I'm just not. I have too much blood on my ugly hands. And you? You are smart and clever although you are much younger. I feel even worse when I think about the fact that I won't probably give anything good to you but stress and more death and- - Could you stop there for a second - Iris asked rather harshly but she quickly reflected to explain. She put his big, calloused hand in her delicate small hands and smiled shyly. - What's done is done, Arthur. I can tell you loved Eliza and your son and that's what really matters. At least to me. It tells a lot about you as y o u, not the image of bad old Arthur you think you are. And those things about me? It hurts me to think you feel like that. But to make you sure you will bring good things to my life I can tell that already. For example, I will stop being cold at night. Then Iris pecked a kiss on Arthur's cheek. He opened his mouth and then closed them. His eyes blinked few times and he opened his mouth again. - I-I just don't get it, why would you choose me? You could have anybody, I mean look at yourself, girl! - It's not about anybody. It's about having someone who makes your heart jump, I can't believe you don't get it! I was after you for months, Arthur Morgan. He started looking at the floor again and he was sulking, oh like hell he was. - You know we can leave it just like that...if you are not sure about all of this. You could...you could tell me when you will feel ready? - Iris said finally. You gonna break my heart, aren't you? He nodded looking at his feet. He nodded. And once again her heart dropped and melted on the floor. This time she didn't picked it up. -He did what?! - Mary-Beth looked like she nearly lost it. - He said he wants to wait because he thinks his words didn't sink in. That I am blindfolded and that I'm gonna grow out of it. - No way he used this one. No. No. - Wow, I have never saw you in this state before. Ya sure it was me that he broke up with? - How could you tell something like that anyway? How could you propose this? You are worth much more than this and we were talking about it. - Jesus. I guess I'm sorry, mother? - You are not gonna wait for shit is what I'm telling you. Screw it! Screw good uncle Arthur, you are I are women and if he's like that he will taste my anger. - I think you got carried away, Mary-Beth. It's not that bad, really. He just gave me little hopes at first and now I don't have any, you don't have to worry. - I will be loyal to you, my new sister. I can't believe how dirty he did you! You know what? Let me rearrange there and you will be living with us since now. - Gee, I really don't know what to say - she blushed - You are really great, I thought I was gonna sleep today under the trees. He snores like a pig - she said with sweet but ugly smile. -Come on, Mrs Grimshaw will understand why we stopped working. Let's gonna move you here! - she sang it like it was an opera song. She hadn't had that much stuff, just few books and clothes so moving her wasn't difficult. Arthur was in town now so Iris hoped she won't meet him. And she didn't. Evening came and Arthur still wasn't there. What else wasn't there war journal. She started having this small habit since she noticed Arthur doing that. - I think I left it upstairs. I'm gonna search for it and I'm gonna be back soon with you, my new roommate! Iris walked up the stairs and there it was. She left it under her bed. Slender fingers caressed journal's cover and she smiled a bit. Then she turned around and saw Arthur, standing in room entrace. - Ya leaving me? - he asked with pure sadness in eyes. - Just moving to girls tent. Nothing big, Mr Morgan. - Don't call me like that, I ain't liking it. Use my name, you was using it already - he looked at her like she was something slipping from his hands. - But this is who you are now, just Mr Morgan - she smiled brightly at him and it was the saddest smile he saw - Goodnight - Iris whispered and climbed to her toes as she pecked little kiss on his cheek. She disappeared in darkness walking thru the corridor and he looked after her hoping it was just a joke.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x female character #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #fluff #drama #angst

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ddproductionsw77 · 5 years

Text

I Want To Hold Your Hand

Fandom: IT (Muschietti Films)

Pairing(s): Reddie (Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak), casual background Benverly and Stenbrough

Characters: (Major) Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, (More minor) Mike Hanlon, Beverly Marsh, Ben Hanscom, Bill Denbrough and Stanley Uris

Rating: Honestly… probably my safest T in a while but I guess if language offends you, M

Description: “Fine, what do I want? I want to be your boyfriend. I want to hold you hand, Lennon-McCartney style. I want to take you out on dates and cuddle with you and make out listening to shitty music in your room. I want to tell you you look cute and—“ He was cut off by Eddie throwing himself at him, kissing him hard enough to send him back a step.

Author’s Note: Inspired by an idea of foulwitchqueen on Tumblr of how Richie would have asked Eddie to be his boyfriend. For anyone who isn’t a Beatles fan, the Lennon-McCartney reference is to the Beatles’ song, written by Lennon-McCartney, I Want To Hold Your Hand. It gives me heavy Reddie vibes... like Richie totally listens to it and thinks about how nice it would be to just hold Eddie’s hand.

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Eddie Kaspbrak was on cloud fucking nine.

For the first time he could remember in a while, he was actually grinning as he walked into school. Playing with one of the straps of his backpack, he felt his heart race in anticipation and he barely managed to get to his locker without getting lost. Spinning the combo this way and that nonsensically, he gathered his courage and glanced down the hall.

Several classrooms away, on the other side of the hall was his locker.

Richie Tozier’s locker.

Shaking his head and biting hard at his lip to stop from grinning like an asshole, Eddie turned away and tried to actually recall his combination. He wasn’t at all surprised that Richie wasn’t at school yet. It wasn’t uncommon for his… friend? He guessed? Whatever, it was normal for Richie to come crashing into class with only seconds to spare, sometimes still carrying his battered skateboard under his arm.

He wasn’t worried… He had only seen the boy in question an hour ago after all.

And it had been the best fucking weekend of his life, besides the sixteen hours he’d had to work between Saturday and Sunday, Eddie had hardly left his bedroom.

He felt his face warm, remembering the feeling of Richie’s hand on his cheek and his lips against his, the two of them tangled up of Eddie’s bed. All they’d done all weekend was make out and talk, laughing loudly when Eddie’s mom was at work and quietly when she wasn’t. On Saturday night, Eddie had even told his mom that Richie was spending the night and they’d giggled, setting up a bundle of blankets on his floor for when his mom checked in on them before bed.

Of course, Richie had slipped into bed with him seconds after she’d closed the door. He’d wrapped his arms around the other boy and their lips had met, playful and still exploratory.

He’d gone from spending pretty much ninety percent of his life wanting to kiss Richie Tozier to doing it so much his lips were starting to chap basically overnight and he was not complaining. They’d only bid each other goodbye that morning because Richie couldn’t show up to school in the same clothes he’d had on hanging out with Stan and Bill on Sunday while Eddie was working.

So, yes, it had definitely been the best fucking weekend of his life.

Finally getting his locker open, Eddie reached out and collected his geometry textbook but he couldn’t stop himself from casting one more glance down the hallway.

“Looking for someone?”

Jumping, Eddie nearly dropped his textbook and glared at Mike as he slipped around him, opening his locker right beside Eddie’s, “Jesus, Mike! Don’t scare me like that, asshole!”

Mike quirked an eyebrow, “I yelled at you from down the hall,” He gestured behind Eddie, “Figured you heard me.”

“Oh,” Eddie shifted, turning back to his locker and slamming the door shut, “I— I didn’t hear…”

Mike gave him a look and got his books out, “How was your weekend? You and Richie didn’t come to movie night at Bill’s on Saturday night so I didn’t see you.”

Eddie coughed, looking away and shrugging, “It was fine. I was just, uh, tired from work, you know, so I didn’t go. I have no idea why Richie didn’t show, I mean, besides that he’s a complete tool but, uh… what, uh, did you guys watch?”

Mike turned to look at Eddie, eyebrows drawing together, “Okay, psycho… It was Bill’s turn to pick so what do you think?”

“Silence of the Lambs,” Eddie nodded, eyes darting distractedly over Mike’s shoulder.

Mike looked back too before turning back to Eddie, “Okay, seriously, what is up with you?”

“Me?” Eddie asked, gaze snapping back to Mike’s as he shook his head, “Nothing. Nothing is up with me.”

“Fine,” Mike shook his head, closing his locker, “Well, I’m going to head to Lit but when you decide to tell me what’s up, you know I have free period during fifth. See you later, Eddie!”

Eddie smiled and waved to him, closing his eyes and cursing himself the second Mike’s back was turned. God, could he be anymore fucking obvious? Throwing his head back into his closed locker door once, he stood and sighed, looking down the hallway again.

His heart stopped.

Richie stood at his locker, forcing his skateboard in with one hand and jerking his economics textbook free with the other. As Eddie watched, he dropped the textbook on the ground and haphazardly slammed the locker shut. Smiling to himself and shaking his head, Eddie started toward him to help only to falter in his step halfway there.

Stevie Martin, a not unfortunate looking dark blonde Eddie recognized from his fourth period government class, had bounded up to Richie. She said something to him with a smirk before crouching down, almost getting on her damn knees in front of his —something?— to pick up the textbook. Licking her lips, she stood up slowly and Eddie watched as she let out a big laugh, reaching out and touching Richie’s arm as he laughed as well.

Scoffing, Eddie glanced away and shook his head, feeling like he’d been socked in the gut. All the excitement, all the anticipation he’d felt bubbling up in his chest a moment before was gone and all he felt now was like there was a lump in his throat. Coughing, his mind instantly went back to the weekend, their weekend… Friday night…

You’re not a joke to me… You’re not.

Richie had told him that just two days ago, hadn’t he? Like only forty-eight hours hours ago, right?

Well, maybe he wasn’t a joke to Richie, maybe he wasn’t… but he could also see he wasn’t anything fucking serious either.

Picking up his feet again, Eddie took off toward class, not daring to so much as glance over as he passed Richie and Stevie. If he didn’t think it would make him late, he’d have gone around the entire fucking building just to avoid them, but unfortunately he couldn’t. He didn’t have time to cry or be upset about his own idiocy either.

“Eds! Hey, Eddie!” He heard Richie’s voice calling after him and ducked his head, looking at his white Keds as he picked up his pace, escaping two doors down into his geometry classroom.

_______________________________________________________________________

Richie cocked his head to the side, confusedly watching Eddie slip into his first period class, “Huh…”

“What?” Stevie asked, following his gaze to look over her shoulder.

Richie blinked, having nearly forgotten Stevie’s existence after spotting Eddie, “Uh… Nothing, I just had a question to ask him…”

She nodded, fluffy blonde hair swinging, “So, I was thinking I could drop in on you next time you’re at work,” She shrugged, “My parents are always making me take my little brother to the arcade anyway and I just thought—“

“Sure, I don’t care,” Richie was only half paying attention, “Look, I gotta split. Econ’s like on the other side of the fucking school. Check you later, Stevs.”

Before she could bid him farewell, Richie took off after Eddie, coincidentally the very opposite of the best way to his economics class. Getting to the door, he peeked inside and found Eddie with his head down, bent over his textbook even with a whole minute left before the bell.

“Mr. Tozier?”

Richie looked around to see Ms. Allen giving him a unamused, pursed lip look, arms crossing over her chest, “If I remember correctly, I so very sadly don’t have you this semester.”

Glancing over to Eddie, Richie felt his heart swoop to his feet at meeting his gaze for a fraction of a second before he looked back at Ms. Allen with a mocking smirk, “Wait, this isn’t Econ?”

Ms. Allen narrowed her eyes at him, warningly, “Mr. Tozier…”

“Right,” Richie sighed, pointing over his shoulder and backing out of the room, “My bad. Sorry bout that, Hilary!”

Before Ms. Allen could give him detention, he ducked out of the class and took off down the hall.

A couple hours later, he dropped his chemistry textbook beside Eddie’s and fell into the chair beside the other boy. He’d been waiting for what seemed like forever to be beside him again, talking to him again.

Grinning, he elbowed his best friend, “Hiya, Eddie Spaghetti.”

Eddie’s eyes flickered over to him before returning to his notes open before him, coolly and mildly saying, “Hey.”

It wasn’t exactly the greeting he’d been anticipating… then again, he supposed they had to keep this thing pretty quiet, didn’t they? So, it made sense that Eddie was probably just making sure not to act out of the ordinary, not call attention to the two of them. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from accidentally brushing his arm against Eddie’s in the most casual way possible.

Eddie shot him a look before purposely scooting his chair away, creating a gap between them.

Richie’s eyebrows came together and he was about to ask what the fuck Eddie’s problem was when Mr. Dawson started up, calling the class to attention. Eddie ignored Richie’s every attempt to whisper to him and only acknowledged his existence to flick away the notes that Richie kept trying to pass him.

Sitting back in his seat, Richie glowered. Eddie didn’t even fucking need to pay attention in his damn class. He’d taken it because it counted toward his honors diploma, not because he needed it. He was taking Advanced Chem in the afternoon with Ben; this content was practically elementary to him so why was he acting like he had to scribble down every fucking thing Dawson said?

When the bell rang, Eddie slammed his textbook shut and didn’t even give Richie a chance to talk to him before rushing out of the room.

Seriously, what was his fucking problem, Richie wondered, gathering his things more slowly and lazily. He stuck his pencil behind his ear and froze as a thought suddenly struck him.

Jesus fuck, what if he changed his mind?

Swallowing down his panic, Richie shook his head. No. No, Eddie couldn’t have changed his mind. The universe couldn’t be that fucking twisted. Hell, Eddie was the one who fucking started this whole damn thing anyway, right? Sure, Richie had kissed Eddie first but only after Eddie had said that he liked Richie.

Shit, but what if he meant like a friend?

Uh, yeah, no. He thought back to the whole conversation from Friday night and shook his head, starting toward his next class. Eddie had not meant just like a friend. He’d meant more… he’d said that he more than liked Richie and then they’d spent the better part of two days blowing off their friends to make out and snuggle. So, no. That wasn’t it, couldn’t be it.

At lunch, Eddie didn’t even stand in line with him while he got his food like he usually did and he didn’t sit beside him either. Richie fell into his usual chair, trying to get Eddie’s attention by sulking at him. Eddie pointedly ignored him, sitting between Bill and Mike on the other side of the table.

Bill ran a hand through his hair and looked around, “Anyone w—wanna come over to my house t—tonight? Stan and I are g—gonna st—study.”

“Billiam,” Richie started, sitting back with a sigh, “You know what people really mean when they say ‘study’ right? You sure you want to invite all of us to sit in on that show?”

“Beep beep, Richie,” Stan glowered, taking a drink from his water, “We’re working on the essay I have due for Lit. Mike already said he’d come.”

“Alone with you and Bill,” Richie quirked an eyebrow, “I’m sure he will.”

“Rich,” Beverly shot him a look, “Shut the fuck up.” Sighing, he put his hands up in surrender as the red head turned to her boyfriend, “What do you think, babe?”

Ben shrugged, looking over at Eddie, who hadn’t touched his food yet, “Eddie, you free? We can work on that atomic equation project for AP chem?”

Eddie shrugged, picking up a baby carrot, “Yeah, okay.”

“I’ll come,” Richie broke in suddenly.

The other Losers looked at him questioningly while Eddie finally met his eye only to shoot him an annoyed glower. Still, it was something. Stanley raised his eyebrows, “I thought you didn’t want to ‘sit in on the show’, Trashmouth.”

Richie shrugged, giving Eddie a pointed look back, “Well, everyone else is going so I might as fucking well, too.”

Mike glanced between the two on either side of him and hummed to himself thoughtfully.

_______________________________________________________________________

After school, Eddie drove slowly to Bill’s, taking every detour and long way he could think of. He did not want to see Richie… It was embarrassing and he felt utterly humiliated. He was just so…

He’d wanted it so badly. He’d wanted Richie, wanted them being a them, so badly it had been a constant ache in his chest basically since he was 11 years old. And now he just felt like an idiot for ever thinking anything could really happen between them.

What had he even thought? That they’d be together forever? That he’d be the only person for Richie from now on? That Richie had wanted all the same things he did?

Yeah… he guessed he had but he’d been pretty fucking wrong, hadn’t he?

Maybe Richie did like him but Richie liked a lot of people and a lot of people liked Richie. He was fucking annoying but he was also so funny it made Eddie’s heart skip a beat. And in the last few years he had certainly grown into his looks, making him so handsome Eddie blushed sometimes just looking at him, then again Eddie had always thought he was cute but girls had started noticing as well.

Richie had already had three girlfriends, one of them even being pretty serious. They’d only broken up three months or so ago… what if Richie didn’t want something like that again?

What if he just wanted the making out and the fooling around in Eddie’s room? What if he just wanted the same old friend with just a few new extra benefits?

Because Eddie didn’t think that would be enough for him. Knew, actually, that it wouldn’t be, couldn’t be. Not anymore. Not when he’d tasted something more than that.

Pulling into Bill’s driveway, Eddie was a little surprised he’d actually made it without going off the road seeing as he couldn’t completely remember the drive. Turning his car off, he narrowed his eyes on Bill’s porch and was relieved to see there was no skateboard leaning against the house yet. Richie wasn’t inside.

Eddie got out of the car with his backpack over one shoulder, shoving his keys in his pocket and walking between Mike’s truck and Bill’s Plymouth that Bill, Richie, Mike and Ben had all spent most of the previous summer getting operational. Eddie had been around too but maybe—mostly—because of the way his heart raced watching Richie covered in smudges of grease and oil, eyebrows scrunched in concentration as he worked.

Shaking his head to clear it, Eddie dashed up the steps and knocked twice before going on in.

Bill and Stan were on the couch in the living room, Mike on the floor by the coffee table when Eddie got inside. Bill glanced up and quirked a smiled, “Y—you know you don’t ha—have to knock Eddie.”

“Sorry for being courteous,” Eddie quipped with a half smile, setting himself down beside Mike on the floor and getting out his Advanced chemistry book and starting on the assignment while the others talked about Lit.

“But I don’t get it,” Stanley said, shaking his head and waving his book under Bill’s nose, “It’s one story, one, so why is Ms. Burke have us talk about it’s power as an anthology?”

Bill smiled at him, pushing the book down gently between them, “B—because The Illustrated M-Man is an anth—th—thology, it’s just presented in the f—f—form of a single story.”

Stan stared at his boyfriend for a long moment before looking to Mike, “Did you get that?”

Mike shrugged and jerked his head in Eddie’s direction, “Ask the future valedictorian.”

“You don’t know I’ll get it. Monica Austin is only like a decimal point behind me and we still have three semesters until it’s announced,” Eddie warned, keeping his eyes on his homework.

“Monica Austin has the GPA she does because she takes softball classes,” Stan shook his head, “She’s never taken one step into an AP class or duel credit course. You deserve it. You’ll get it.”

Eddie bit back a smile and quietly highlighted a line from his notes before saying lightly, “It’s an anthology because it’s a series of stories but Bradbury purposefully wrote that all the stories exist in the same universe on the skin of the illustrated man himself. You could interpret it as Bradbury’s way of saying that we carry the stories of the world around with us everywhere we go.”

Stan and Mike stared at him for a moment before ducking simultaneously and scribbling in their notebooks.

A moment later, the door flew open and Eddie instinctually looked up to see Richie walking into the house backwards, arguing with Beverly as Ben followed the two looking exasperated.

“I never fucking said The Wall is better than The Dark Side of the Moon, Beverly, I just fucking said that Comfortably Numb is the best song on either of those albums,” Richie exclaimed.

“Fuck you, Tozier!” Beverly snapped in outrage, “Time is the best song out of everything on those two albums and if you say differently, you’re obviously kidding yourself! Fucking Us And Them is better than Comfortably Numb!”

Mike broke in, calling out to Ben, “Hey, Ben, how are you doing?”

Beverly and Richie quieted and Ben grinned at Mike, “A little better now, actually.”

Spotting Eddie sitting on the carpet, Richie threw himself down next to him and nudged him with his shoulder, “Why you been ignoring me all day, Eds?”

“Don’t call me that, fuckhead,” Eddie looked up at the other Losers, all of which were paying some degree of attention to him, and then glared at Richie, “And I wasn’t. Everything isn’t about you, Trashmouth.”

“Why are people always telling me that?” Richie asked before nudging Eddie again, “Come on, Eddie, I wanna talk to you.”

Shrugging, Eddie said, “Well, I’m going to work with Ben so I can’t—“

“You guys can talk,” Ben supplied after Beverly elbowed him hard in the ribs, “I think I got the first few equations.”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie shrugged, “Fine, whatever, I wanted water anyway.”

He got up and headed for the kitchen, Richie jumping up and following on his heels. Getting into the kitchen, the door slipped closed behind them and Eddie turned around, “What do you wa—“ He was cut off by Richie lips, one of which was still healing from being split open, on his. All his fight seemed to just evaporate and his arms came up out of instinct, slipping around Richie’s neck and pulling the taller boy closer without his brain even giving permission. Some voice in the back of his head was telling him that this was probably a bad idea.

He was mad at Richie, wasn’t he?

And all the others were just one unlocked door away, weren’t they?

But the rest of his entire being wanted nothing more than to just melt into this and it was so fucking hard to fight that craving. He’d missed Richie like oxygen all day, missed doing this with Richie. He hadn’t even let himself brush against the other boy and why? Because his ego was hurt? Was that why he’d been mad? Because he was honestly struggling to remember at the moment.

Richie backed him into the counter of Bill’s kitchen and Eddie felt a small part of reality come back to him. He shouldn’t be doing this… He couldn’t be doing this!

With a small gasp, Eddie dropped his hands to Richie’s chest and pushed him away, choking out, “Are you fucking nuts?”

“Actually, a little bit,” Richie argued, “You wouldn’t fucking talk to me all day!”

Eddie rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, “Oh, please, you seemed prefect happy with that bottle blonde, Stevie Nicks wannabe.”

Richie tried not to but ended up turning away to laugh. Eddie, on the other hand, was not amused, “It’s not fucking funny, Richie! And if you’re into her fine but we have to stop this, whatever this is, now because— Why the fuck are you laughing?”

This just made Richie laugh harder and Eddie reached out to shove him away only for Richie to gently grab his arm and pull him closer, biting his lip until he had contained himself.

Looking down at Eddie, who was glaring at the zipper of Richie’s hoodie, he cleared his throat, “Look, I’m sorry.” He leaned in closer to meet Eddie’s sour gaze, “Eddie, I’m sorry for laughing, you’re right it’s not funny.”

Eddie tried again to push him away but Richie put an arm on either side of him, setting his hands on the counter to keep him in place, “Eds,” He dropped his voice quieter and drew Eddie’s attention begrudgingly back to him, “You’re right it’s not funny.”

Giving up on slipping away, Eddie fell back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest again to try and put some space between them, “What do you want, Richie?”

“I told you, I just want to talk to you—“

“No,” Eddie shook his head, running his hand down his face and looking at the floor, “What do you want? Like, with us? What do you want to happen between us because I don’t want to be just the friend that you fool around with when you’re fucking bored, okay? I’m not going to—”

He was cut off but Richie kissing him again and this time Eddie managed to push him off right away, “Stop fucking doing that! I’m trying to talk to you, like you wanted!”

“But you’re saying shit that’s fucking stupid and I don’t want to hear it so,” Richie shrugged and Eddie looked at him unamused. Sighing, Richie shook his head, “Fine, what do I want? I want to be your boyfriend. I want to hold you hand, Lennon-McCartney style. I want to take you out on dates and cuddle with you and make out listening to shitty music in your room. I want to tell you you look cute and—“ He was cut off by Eddie throwing himself at him, kissing him hard enough to send him back a step. They kissed for a long moment before Eddie pulled away, dropping back down from his tip toes. Richie blinked, “Hey, you told me to stop fucking doing that—“

“I know I did,” Eddie sighed, looking up at Richie through his eyelashes and nearly sending the other boy into cardiac arrest, “But I couldn’t help myself. You were saying shit that was fucking wonderful and I didn’t think I could hear anymore and not kiss you so,” He shrugged, biting his lip.

Reaching up, Eddie put his hands against the back of Richie’s neck, lightly playing with the feather soft curls right there at the nape, “I want that, too. All of that. I was just… I was scared you didn’t.”

“You had a moment, fine,” Richie smirked and shrugged, “I’ll forgive you. So… You’ll be my boyfriend, then?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, the expression on his face one of utter endearment, “Yes, asshole, now come here.”

Pulling him down, Eddie kissed Richie again, opening his mouth and allowing Richie immediate access to his tongue. His boyfriend groaned, reaching out to grip his hips. His boyfriend, Eddie smiled into the kiss, brushing his teeth over Richie’s un-split lip before pulling away.

Brushing his hands down Richie’s shoulders, Eddie mumbled, “They’ll be wondering what we’re doing.”

“Fucking let them,” Richie muttered, going back in to continue their kiss but Eddie gently placed his hand on his cheek to keep him back.

Reaching down, Eddie grabbed Richie’s hand and lightly kissed it before nodding to the kitchen door, “Come on, Trashmouth.”

Leading the way, Eddie dropped Richie’s hand as they slipped through the door. Taking his seat back on the floor, he shot Richie a half smile when he sat beside him, even closer than before.

“So, Eddie,” Mike asked, calling the boy’s attention, “Where’s that water you were getting?”

Bev, Ben and Bill all fought to hold back their laughter, burying their faces further in their books.

Eddie felt his face grow warm and he looked down at his notes, “I just, uh, forgot, I guess.”

“Well, you were pretty busy with Richie’s tongue halfway down your throat,” Stan stated in monotone, shrugging. That broke the others, sending them into hysterics. “Mazel tov, idiots.”

“How—?” Eddie gaped, looking at Richie who looked confused as well.

“You guys are so f—f—fucking loud!” Bill shook his head, stuttered worsened by his laughter.

Beverly giggled and nodded, “God, we heard like every word! But, I mean, fucking finally!”

“Yeah, congratulations on being the last two to figure out that you two should be dating,” Ben quipped, giving them both a genuine smile.

Mike reached over and clapped Eddie on the back, “I knew something was up this morning!”

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kiruuuuu · 4 years

Text

Siegemas Day 24

Happy holidays everyone, it’s me again! I stepped in for this day :) Once again, thank you @dualrainbow, this event is a delight 💝💝

Today, my prompt is the very first line of the fic you find below. I hope you all enjoy it, and have a wonderful time no matter what or whether you’re celebrating! ✨ (Twitch/IQ, Rating T, fluff + emotional comfort, ~2.8k words)

“We made… too many cookies.”

The comedic timing is impeccable, the line delivered with perfect hesitance as to imply awareness of the understatement while hiding its undoubtedly practised nature. She’s a born people person with a knack for being charmingly endearing, and IQ is absolutely and horrifically powerless.

“This is ridiculous”, she states, deadpan, not giving away how amused she is in reality – it’s not often that she opens the door to a stunning young woman with pretty cheekbones tinted pink from the cold outside, clad in a flattering deep purple coat and holding several tin boxes in gloved hands. Patterned gloves, a row of snowflakes adorning the fabric. A very familiar row of snowflakes.

“I know, and I’m really sorry, but I don’t know anyone else who’d appreciate these.” Her hair is laid in neat waves framing her pale freckled face, light make-up completing the elegant look. She could be a film star, certainly possesses the same unselfconscious attitude one would expect, even though she’s displaying embarrassment right now. Her slim figure hugged tightly by her form-fitting clothes is visible clearly despite the frankly laughable amount of cookie tins and IQ can’t help herself.

She invites her in.

Twitch is a waterfall, bubbling excitedly about how or why she came across certain recipes, casually throwing in a French or German word amidst the usual English, and it’s impossible for IQ to follow her but she smiles and nods anyway while relieving her visitor of her cargo and placing it gingerly on the kitchen table. So far, this last Sunday before Christmas – the fourth Advent, as it’s called in her mother tongue – had been almost serene, began with chores and continued with a quiet cup of coffee and a good book before slowly tilting over into planning and researching for her next chapter. A regular occurrence. As a result, IQ is mentally somewhere else still and needs a few minutes before she can concentrate on her unexpected guest.

“Good to see you”, she chimes in during a small pause (wouldn’t you know it, even Twitch needs to breathe), and the two of them hug as a greeting. Twitch always gives her a good squeeze, really presses the two of them together, which is one of the reasons IQ looks forward to meeting her every day: it makes her feel appreciated. No one else comes close to these embraces, not Blitz, her decade-old friend, or even her own siblings. In Twitch’s arms, she closes her eyes and finds peace for a brief second.

It might be the absence of her family which has left her this sentimental – normally, she’s too busy to analyse her friends, to scrutinise them to this amount, but today an odd sort of nostalgia and possible bout of loneliness has overtaken her. She did light four candles on her wreath, the first one almost burnt out completely from being lit on all the previous Sundays, yet instead of providing warm illumination, it caused subtle brooding. Their house was always lively around Christmas, bustling with fights, pretend fights, singing, louder singing, future plans yelled through the staircase, raucous laughter, and various songs on repeat trying to drown each other out.

Here, in her small apartment in England, the silence felt foreboding.

“I tried my hand at spéculoos, which Marius called a German staple, and let me tell you – the dough I had was a nightmare to work with, much too sticky. I wanted to roll it out and use Julien’s cookie cutters but it wouldn’t cooperate, so you now have small poop piles of what I think you call Spekulatius. It’s in the blue tin, right on top there. I also made vanilla… uh, vanilla croissants? Shaped like moons? They’re Dom’s favourites, apparently, and Gilles begged me to help him, but he got the recipe wrong and we got so many that he just gave me half. Elias really wanted pain d’épices, um, spicy bread? No, gingerbread, that was it. You guys have the best name for it, by the way, Lebkuchen, it makes it sound like you’re Frankenstein: live, cake!”

Twitch somehow manages to wander through the flat while babbling on, accepting a cup of lukewarm coffee IQ puts in her hands and instinctively helping to pick a few cookies from each box to create an inviting-looking decorative paper plate which IQ carries into the living room where they settle down, fingers curled around warmed ceramic and eyes gleaming in the candlelight.

“You need to try these, it’s actually one of James’ mum’s recipes. Poppyseed and chocolate, they turned out better than expected, but after Liza told that story about her acquaintance failing a drug test because of poppyseed bagels, people refused to eat more than one and I definitely can’t stomach all of these alone.”

She watches, expectantly, as IQ dutifully picks out one of the spotted cookies shaped like a flower and bites into the crumbly bakeware. Surprising no one, it’s delicious – if there’s anything Twitch can’t do, IQ hasn’t found it yet.

“Really good”, she agrees, allowing for Twitch’s instant beaming smile to tug the corners of her own mouth upwards while she chews. “Manu, these all look lovely. You know I’d die for good Christmas cookies, so thank you. Even though this is way too much for me.”

Her laugh is melodic and as contagious as her constant sunny mood. “You should see how many I still have at home. Elias claimed he needs to watch his figure, Julien should be watching his figure, Doc doesn’t really like sweets, and Gilles eats maybe one cookie a day. Which you know is illegal at Christmastime.”

“Still, this is a wonderful present and I’m afraid I have nothing to give in return.” IQ isn’t being entirely honest. Still testing the waters; maybe Twitch will manage to read between the lines and they can finally address it. The moment the Frenchwoman stepped over the threshold was the moment IQ decided they’d talk it through today. It’s been going on long enough.

“Not true, you gave me the gloves!” Twitch’s triumphant gotcha! expression is self-satisfied and smug and sweet. Sweeter than the cookies calling to IQ – they really do look fantastic, a variety of shapes, sizes and colours, all together smelling of spices and memories and Christmas.

“Someone had to, you kept complaining about your icy fingers.”

“And you were probably sick of warming them up.” Twitch hasn’t caught on yet, her tone is still breezy and carefree. “Have you written some more? Any new scenes for me to read? I need to know whether the captain really is dead or not.”

IQ laughs, half embarrassed and half delighted – when the news broke in Rainbow that she writes stories in her spare time, she expected an outcome way worse than what she ended up facing: Castle immediately expressed interest in reading them, no matter the topic, and once word got out that it was usually science-fiction-centric, even more people approached her out of curiosity. None of them as enthusiastic as Twitch, however, who dove into the narratives like an age old fan into new material, sparking an unknown productivity in IQ which has yet to subside. Knowing there’s at least one person who devours anything she dreams up has been fantastically motivating, and they’ve begun spinning yarn together now and then. Twitch is the only one whom she trusts enough to proofread for scientific errors or inconsistencies, and she’s helped develop a character into a much more compelling version of themselves several times.

The next hour is spent on discussing IQ’s research, involving frantic googling and article hopping on Wikipedia to help with finding the correct jargon – Twitch knows most of the technical terms in French, which doesn’t mesh well with IQ’s rusty school French, whereas her German accent makes it difficult for the other woman to understand her, so they try to meet in the middle somewhere by using English, despite the laborious process involved.

They’re on one wavelength. Always have been, from the moment they came across each other in Rainbow’s workshop, when Twitch still dyed her hair auburn and IQ barely spoke a word with the other operators: a friendly smile, an engineering-related question, a brief introduction, and they were a house on fire. Inseparable at work.

Twitch made sure it bled into their private lives as well, even if it took considerable effort. IQ never asked, but she’s sure her friend secretly celebrated that one day when she finally said yes to one of her suggestions of meeting up.

And it’s exactly why it hurts so fucking much to think -

“Manu.”

Twitch stops talking mid-sentence, probably caught off guard by her serious tone of voice. “Yes? Is everything alright?”

It might be. She hopes it will be. Her fingers stray to a loose thread peeking out of the seam of her trousers, picking at it. “We’ve been friends for a while now.”

Several years, in fact, an unimaginably long time. Not that IQ hasn’t been able to keep friendships alive for this long, but never one this close. The level of intimacy usually kept declining after a certain point, usually prompted by nothing, sometimes spatial distance, sometimes emotional. There aren’t many people who keep up with her over a long time, and even fewer she keeps up with – Blitz is a great friend, but he just doesn’t share her passions.

“And you’re one of the most generous people I know. Your first instinct when you have too many cookies is to give them away. I’ve always admired this about you.”

Twitch is listening intently. She knows something is up, yet can’t put her finger on it. Her brows are furrowed. IQ knows this from a brief glance before her gazed drops back down to her restless fingers.

“Julien and I had a conversation about you, not too long ago. And some of what he said was… unexpected.” Rustling; Twitch is beginning to fidget as well. “Unrelated to that, Dom overheard you voicing your frustration about your being single and mentioned it to me. I didn’t know you were that unhappy. You never said anything.”

She really likes you. Yeah, don’t wave me off. I’ve never seen her fawn over someone like this. You get special treatment all the time.

And then, more poignant: At this point, I’m basically ready to fuck anything that moves.

The second quote echoes in her mind as if she’d heard it herself instead of it being delivered second-hand. Both of them made her look back at the past months and re-evaluate some events. Showed them in a very different light.

Twitch is radiating anxiousness. It’s easy to pick up.

“I realise now that I’ve received a lot of special attention from you, and… I just have to wonder.” It’s harder and harder to push the words out, her throat closing up. “Wonder whether your present today is cookies and friendship, or cookies and a confession, or cookies and an expectation. Whether there’s some kind of motive attached.”

Her entire life, there’s never been anyone outside her family who understood her better. Being a woman in a male dominated field is difficult enough, especially as a competitive one, and her experiences aren’t easily conveyed to her guy colleagues – Twitch understands, of course, has faced the same obstacles and prejudices. Seeking patterns everywhere, striving for excellence, despising complacency, the overwhelming need to reverse engineer anything new or remarkable, exploring new places, wanting to always keep moving and improving – Twitch understands, has had a similar upbringing and equivalent goals.

They share almost everything at this point, have been on holidays together, mastered several projects with each other’s help, stayed up till sunrise because sleep was the inadequate alternative to exchanging ideas and pushing each other further than they’d go by themselves. Others have always tried to slow IQ down, force her to relax, take her mind off something she enjoyed chewing on, and it was infuriating.

All Twitch does is encourage her. Which paradoxically calms IQ more than any massage or empty-brained film ever could.

She doesn’t want to lose all this. Her chest hurts with the pressure of potentially losing someone this dear to her. But at the same time, she doesn’t want Twitch to get the wrong idea.

When silence is all she receives, she looks up to find Twitch fighting for composure – wide eyes filled with moisture and lip quivering. It’s a stab in the guts. IQ has never seen her cry.

“I don’t -”, Twitch chokes out, adding more quietly: “This isn’t -”

IQ sits next to her, reaching out but retreating when Twitch shakes her head, so all she does is take her hand. As always, her fingers are cold, so IQ closes her own around them. This isn’t at all what she intended, but she needs to know.

“Your friendship means the world”, comes a much more composed statement after a minute. “You should know this.”

She nods. She does know.

“And – and yes, if there was more, I’d be happy. Even happier than I am now. But there doesn’t need to be.” Twitch is speaking faster now, rushing the words, her melodic French accent thickening. “I’m fine with everything staying the way it is. I love being around you, no matter how, so if you’re not okay with – with anything else, it’s fine. I’m fine. I’ll get over it, no worries.”

“Manu. Breathe.” Seeing the other woman in a panic is a rare sight and IQ doesn’t enjoy knowing she’s the cause. “I love being around you, too. You’re my best friend, by far. But… I don’t want anything casual.”

Twitch needs a moment to digest this and IQ readies her responses: she’s had bad experiences with it in the past, and as far as she knows, arrangements like friends with benefits tend to make everything messy and awkward. Staying friends is the better option.

“Yes. Me neither.” A beat. Their eyes meet, Twitch’s still glistening.

There is an even better option, as far as IQ is concerned. And it seems to slowly dawn on the nearly perfect woman next to her.

“And… what about something not casual? But still more?”

Oh. The pressure begins to lift off her chest with every passing second, with every second that Twitch stares at her, hopeful, unsure. Slowly, she clarifies: “You mean – cookies and a confession?”

The nod is nearly imperceptible, and IQ probably almost breaks her fingers by squeezing so hard. The next thing she knows is she’s leaning forward and pressing their lips together, tasting the saltiness of perceived rejection as well as the disbelieving smile of actual acceptance, and then Twitch is laughing as well, crying in between relieved giggling, almost hysterical, and IQ joins in, and before they know it, they’re a mess on the sofa, hugging, seeking physical contact, pressing kisses to temples and hair and cheeks and lips again, wrapping arms around warm bodies.

Her heart is singing because while she so fiercely hoped, she barely dared to, was used to disappointments and therefore expected the worst, even ascribed traits to her best friend in the whole world who’d never stoop so low as to demand something from her she wasn’t ready to give. No, Twitch understands her and vice versa. Even so, it took them an embarrassingly long time to get to this point. In their shared joyousness, they barely manage to finish their sentences:

“What Dom heard me say wasn’t, I mean, I was just -”

“Yes, I figured, but it still got me thinking -”

“I was having a bad day, I’m not that frustrated -”

“Oh? That’s a shame, you know, I was actually looking forward to -”

“Monika!”, Twitch exclaims, scandalised even though they’re both aware IQ is joking, and by now they’re laughing like mad, especially because Twitch only uses her full name when she’s done something, so IQ resorts to tickling her in retaliation or maybe to distract her, and they both yelp when Twitch’s foot shoots up, gets caught on the rim of the cookie plate peeking over the coffee table’s edge, and catapults its contents everywhere. One manages to hit IQ in the face, the rest is scattered all over the floor, which sets them off again after a second of total silence.

“It’s fine, it’s fine”, Twitch gets out in between breaths, “I really do have tons more at home.” Which IQ believes her in a heartbeat.

Even though she’s pretty sure she got the lion’s share of the leftovers.

And just a second before they notice that the napkin on which the cookies were presented has caught fire, IQ thinks about how she dreaded spending Christmas at Hereford without her family – and she realises now she’ll be in great company regardless.

#rainbow six siege #twitch #iq #twitch/iq #fanfic #oneshot #siegemas #this is the last couple perfecting my quartet of german/french ships #check out their new bios btw #in my head they fit so so so well together #I'm looking forward to reading all the entries I've missed!!#I hope I'll have more time after Christmas

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