#it’s just difficult to convince myself. this one just.. is not my favourite i won’t lie

[fingertipsmp3]

Have accidentally ended up reading 6 books at once. How did this happen. We’re smarter than this

[yournameyn]

Feeling Deeply Chapter 5

Genre: Arranged Marriage Fic. Fluff turning into angst?

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

Summary: The story of two deeply feeling nerds who find themselves in an arranged marriage. (Details here). Our OC is called Brishti. It’s a Bengali name meaning rain. Namjoon calls her Rim (short for her pet name, RimJhim which means the pitter-patter of rain). She calls him Joon.

Warnings: NOT THE NAMJOON OF OUR DREAMS. Argument. Fight over tiny discrepancies that turn out to be a huge problem. Domestic violence. Not a happy chapter.

A/N: Have you ever felt this, reader? When you watch something and realise exactly what you need to realise in that moment? I’ve had that so many times - seeing my feelings mirrored in a show. That’s something that I’ve tried to have Brishti feel here. Also, this is how I see the natural progression of this Namjoon, the one who obliged to duty rather than his dreams. It took me a long time to write this but I love what’s come out. Let me know what you think!

Current Chapter: London, late 1963. Love fully blooms between Namjoon and Brishti. And yet, something’s not right. A visit to the ballet and a conversation brings forth realisations. The inklings that Brishti was trying to avoid transform into writing on the wall.

Previously in Feeling Deeply: Preface Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5

The magic about new love isn’t really in romance or even in true intimacy. It’s in how violent new love is… and just how much time it takes us to feel it’s impact.

In the new love between Namjoon and Brishti, everything had been roses and honey, overflowing, swaying in a gentle breeze. They spent every second possible in each other’s arms. They had to tear themselves away from each other when they had to leave home. And even then, it hurt as though they were part of the same cloth.

Brishti had thought about how they had become woven, their souls an ornate tapestry. Namjoon had told her then about a Japanese tradition of weaving that was a sort of meditation and a kind of worship to a god called ‘Musubi’. The disciples say it is like being part of the cosmic tapestry. Being tied to each other.

“Just like we are… I felt a pull toward you and I followed it. I was scared… so full of doubts about who you were and how this was all going to go… I had promised myself that I would fulfil my duty… whatever happened ” Namjoon had said, petting Brishti’s hand gently, “And I… I still can’t believe it… It… you make me feel like I can… trust myself.” Brishti had looked at her genius then and wondered what a strange world it must be that made a man like Namjoon doubt himself, “Always, always trust yourself, Namjoon-ah.” and settled into the crook of his neck.

It was indeed a strange world that caused Namjoon to build an armour around himself. Because ‘London’ and ‘Lonely’ sounded just the same to him. His years alone in this strange place had been unkind, unrelenting. Brishti had been the only softness he had felt in a long long time. Armours built over years can break in an instant, though. For him, it was the moment when he and his wife had crossed the threshold to becoming lovers. High on the magic of new love, he had not realised it.

Sitting across from each other after that fateful evening, Namjoon and Brishti were both wide awake in the early hours of the next morning. Brishti buttoned up the shirt they never fully took off. Namjoon had tickled her with his toes. They propped their feet against the other’s to see just how vast the difference was (he melted seeing how small her feet were and hadn’t stopped playing with them since). Caressing each toe, he remembered something he wanted to ask -

“How did you know what Saranghae is?”

“Mm…” she stretched her arms, “I know what it means…” Brishti said.

“I know you know… from the way you… after I said it… You asked Yoongi about it?” Namjoon cautiously asked about the only other Korean Brishti knew. To his surprise, she nodded no, still denying him any information. Namjoon had to tickle her foot for the answer.

“Okay! Okay! Wait! Pleeeease!” Namjoon stopped and Brishti bent down to the bureau next to her bed and pulled out a textbook - LEARN HANGUL THROUGH ENGLISH. Namjoon looked more shocked than she had expected. “I asked Yoongi about the book-”

“You don’t need to Rim… I’m not learning Bangla, am I?” Namjoon said. He was touched but he didn’t want his love to do anything he couldn’t reciprocate.

“I would have asked you to learn it… if I wrote poetry in my mothertongue...” Brishti said. Namjoon was shocked. She went on, “You really think I didn’t know?”

Namjoon blushed and smiled and flopped over in Brishti’s lap. She brushed his hair as she explained, “You light up at the mention of lyrics and poetry, you keep a notebook by your side at all times, you’re moved by the things that people usually don’t pay attention to… I know you’re a poet, Joonie.”

Namjoon looked up at her and said, “No one has ever called me that…”

Brishti leaned down and kissed her gorgeous husband. “You are... From what I know, I bet all my books that you are a great one... And… I… I would love nothing more than to be part of your world of words, Joonie… It must be strange… to be understood but in a foreign language. If you would let me, I want to understand you in your language… Do you think that’s something maybe--”

He got up and all but jumped on Brishti, pinning her down to the bed with the cutest puppy-yell she had ever heard. “Yes! Of course, yes!”

They both understood that this was a proposal. The truest kind - a gentle request to explore Namjoon’s universe. They would later joke about how she proposed to him after a month of being married. Namjoon was completely delighted by this person with him, his person… one who really saw him.

He pulled her to him saying, “You’re the best part of my world, Rim...” and kissed her.

Each moment of love flowed through the next. When they had to be separated, they couldn’t wait for the next one, their moment again. On weekends they would visit museums and find their favourite paintings and sculpture or their favourite prehistoric relic and animal. Brishti hated the fact that Namjoon had to work overtime to compensate for these weekends and she often voiced how unfair it was.

In response Namjoon would just give her a peck and say, “As long as I have you, I’m happy.” This pricked her but she was too taken by the man before her to pay heed to it.

Namjoon was just about able to keep a straight face at work but everyone around Brishti was acutely aware of how much she loved Namjoon.

At one point, her colleague and best friend, Min Yoongi had yelled at her, “Yhaaaaa! Stop blushing?! It’s just a clock… what could be romantic about a clock?!” Sayuri-san, and she were hanging around Yoongi’s table when Brishti looked at his new flip clock and started blushing.

Brishti laughed along with everyone else but explained, “It’s involuntary… that’s what happens when you’re married to a poet.”

Sayuri-san corrected, “I know too many wives of poets to know that’s not necessarily true… It is true though, when you’re in love with a poet… Go on… tell us how exactly poet Namjoon makes you blush about a clock...”

Brishti blushed even more at that. Yoongi rubbed his arms and demanded, “Tell us because there’s some really weird things coming to my mind… like you guys have an exact time when...”

Brishti stopped his imagination, “No no no… it’s nothing like that… he loves digital clocks... because he loves to watch the time turn to 00:00… zero o’clock he calls it… and on days he feels sad, it’s like zero o’clock is always there to comfort him… like it’s a point when the whole world holds its breath and he can feel happy again… but these days… with me… he said he wants the clock to keep going after 23:59… he wishes time would stretch on… beyond 24:01…”

Yoongi sighed and sat back down, “You’re making me fall in love with Namjoon… ahhh that is beautiful. He should be published...”

“Imagine him saying this directly to you and you might know how I feel… I can’t stop talking about him...”

“Oh, we know. But honestly none of us care… your poet-librarian romance is getting us through our single-ness.” Yoongi reassured her.

The three of them continued to talk about the ways in which Brishti could repay Namjoon’s wordsmithing in graphic ways.

It was that evening, wasn’t it, when Namjoon had enveloped her back in the warmest hug as soon as he’d entered their flat. Brishti was in the kitchen when she heard him enter but hadn’t expected this. He kissed her neck while telling her the good news, “We got our first Korean client today… because of me… Mmmm… Why do you always smell so amazing?”

Brishti turned around and hugged him again, “That’s amazing! Namjoon-ssi! I’m so proud of you!”

“He’s from a wealthy family… so he can actually afford our firm… its not exactly the work I wanted to do--”

“It is a step toward that idea, right? It’s still good work, fighting for justice?” Brishti asked, stopping him from undermining his own work.

Namjoon nodded, “Yeah… He’s a dancer… Park Jimin. All the posh types know him as one of the best dancers in the Royal Ballet. They call him Jim… as if it’s too difficult to say Jimin?” Namjoon shook his head in disapproval. He began helping Brishti with the chopping and continued, “He was born in the UK and trained since he was 5... He got into the Royal Ballet but he’s been passed up to be a principal over and over even though everyone who has seen him dance apparently knows that he’s far far better… So recently he spoke to the director there... and of course the director made a racist slur and asked not to bother him with this again. He can’t even quit and work at another company because of the contract they have him on. There’s a non compete clause… meaning he won’t be able to dance with any other company. That’s all he wants… to be able to get out of that contract… I’m hoping to convince him to press charges on racial discrimination too. We’re not in the 20s anymore.”

When Brishti didn’t respond, Namjoon looked up at her. “That’s horrible… I’m so so glad you’re taking up the case. But please tell me what you ate when you were alone?” He looked down at the carrot he’d been failing to cut.

Namjoon scrunched his nose and admitted, “Canned food mostly.”

Brishti said, “I’m really really glad you’re getting to do work that you are passionate about, Joonie, you deserve it. Now, you should know how to cut a carrot.”

Namjoon pressed up against Brishti’s back. She reached back up to the nape of his neck and made him moan into her. Then… then Namjoon made her forget how to cut carrots.

He had these ways… Namjoon, with his touch, his voice, his languages both spoken and soundless. He was lighting new paths into her self. She loved learning him. Paths she didn’t know existed, that she’d been longing for.

The scars of the loneliness, emptiness that Namjoon had experienced had turned his longings into a kind of starvation. He needed to be nourished and also devoured. Brishti was just the creature to do it. He could feel her warm fingers trace rows of pleasure onto his skin. He felt them bear down and singe when the two of them had to move away from each other. He felt those ropes tug at him as the end of his workday neared. Namjoon closed his eyes each night at her touch, the feeling and fragrance of her body. He felt blooms of intimacy spring up like seedlings out of the soil of his skin. And deeper. In the earth of his soul. So he did the only thing he could. Reciprocate. Namjoon sowed his love, his desire, his need onto her, into her every night.

There were times, though, when she would feel his absence in the middle of the night and see him working in the dim light of a lamp. She knew he had to work hard to do what he wanted but she also saw he had to continually prove himself to people who weren’t even paying attention. The reason they weren’t paying attention was painfully clear to Brishti but she was yet to experience it’s full stab.

Namjoon wanted to shield her from it. He was counting on an armour that didn’t exist anymore to protect himself and his wife… the reason he liked his life again. Whenever she came out and switched on a brighter light, reprimanding him for straining his gorgeous eyes, he saw that it did prick her - this world and the unfairness he had to endure. She would say something small, an almost-complaint that alerted him… against her for some strange reason. She would say something that would be easy to ignore and yet would prick him, like - “I don’t know why they haven’t promoted you yet.” or “Why haven’t they taken up Jimin’s case yet? You’ve worked so hard on it.” Everytime she did that, he would have to pacify himself.

‘I’ve told her so much about the Jimin case… she’s just really invested’ Namjoon thought to himself. Just so he would avoid thinking, ‘I shouldn’t have told her.’

He would have to calm himself, give her a peck and try to convince her to stop worrying. “As long as I have you, I’m happy.” Namjoon would always say.

Then, Brishti smiled as she always did. While trying to understand why that sentence bothered her so much. After almost five months of exploring this wonderful man, some part of him still felt unfamiliar… like it didn’t fit in with the rest. Still, these things take time, she had heard from so many women over the years. Besides, she was blessed with a man far far above the norms. So, how could she prod? These are things Brishti had told herself - until the night she couldn’t stay silent.

The couple was coming up on their fifth month together and Park Jimin had gifted Namjoon a ticket to the final show of the season as a token of gratitude, for having heard his story.

Brishti was nervous about going to this kind of a gathering and had told her husband to meet her there.

She had enlisted the help of Sayuri-san to look appropriate for the event. Her slightly longer hair was clipped and her eyes were kohled. She wore a burgundy knee length fringe-ended dress that she had received from her gracious host, stylist and make-up artist - an inheritance of her brilliant life tucked into the black pearl beading and deco design. It was a big departure from the usual tie-die or band tees and jeans with her baggy coat. She had carried the coat but felt this strange sort of compulsion to stand in the cold air in the noodle strap dress, for him to see her.

She felt butterflies in her stomach and kept fiddling with the coat she had draped over her arm. It was electric when she saw him.

Namjoon looked gorgeous in a tux. All of Brishti’s nerves were soothed just by looking at him. He had brushed his hair back. Tall and dashing - better than any heathcliffe could ever be. And with his reading glasses, he looked like the lead of a romance novella that would make all the women swoon. Indeed she was swooning. Brishti was suddenly warm in the chilly, windy night. And when Namjoon saw her, blood rushed to her cheeks. Everything inside her was running helter skelter in a panic. Brishti felt everything drop in the few moments it took for Namjoon to reach the top of the stairs. Dolled up like this, outside of her element, she felt like an imposter. Some angel needed to be standing in her place. For the first time, feigning beauty, Brishti felt like she wasn’t worthy of her husband.

She was finally able to keep her feelings aside when he reached her.

Namjoon kissed her palm like a gentleman and whispered in her ear, “Let’s go home… I need a private kind of dance…” Brishti blushed. Namjoon put his arm around her and felt the chill that had settled on her skin. “Aren’t you cold? Why didn’t you wear the coat?” Namjoon asked. Brishti just shook her head no and the two of them walked in.

Brishti assumed that the ballet would be a welcome distraction from the storm that brewed within her. She had read up about the show, the piece they were going to perform -

Tchaikovsky’s venerated Swan Lake. The story of a young girl who falls in love with a prince who promises to save her but fails. Ofcourse there were finer nuances to the story but this was the basic plot. As the lights dimmed, Brishti felt pulled in by the music, the eerie beauty of it’s melody played in perfectly with the questions that were swirling around in Brishti’s mind -

Why do I feel wrong?

Is this what Yoongi was talking about? Anxiety…?

Why does Namjoon look so... different?

Why is he so quiet, so… distant…It’s like he’s keeping himself away from me despite being right next to me, arm in arm, like the true Namjoon is somewhere in a glass case? Deep deep beneath whatever this creature is who is next to me?

I’m thinking too much. No. What is this? Why am I feeling this way?

It’s the music… no its not just the music… something is fucking wrong because all I feel like doing is breaking that glass case that’s locked away My Namjoon and presented this fucking imposter. What the hell is going on?!

Brishti barely managed to keep it together. She kept her eyes on stage…

It was like seeing a moving painting being created by invisible hands and the music was the sound of the brushstrokes, amplified. Park Jimin was playing Rothbart, the owl-like magician who curses Odette into a swan until she finds someone who would promise to love her forever. The questions in her mind and the power of the spectacle before her forced her tears to keep flowing.

Namjoon saw Brishti cry and held on to her. But the more he tried to comfort her, the more uneasy she became, the more she coudln’t contain the tears in her eyes.

The curtain fell at the end of Act three when the prince realises he has been tricked. Brishti, somehow, mirrored his grief. The prince was cheated by Rothbart into believing that his daughter, Odile, was Odette. Rothbart relished his plan so despicably it made Brishti’s stomach turn. The prince had already declared to the ballroom full of people his vow to love and marry the maiden by his side - Odile, not Odette. Park Jimin played Rothbart so skillfully, so beautifully that despite being the villain, despite being covered from head to toe, he was the star. Rothbart giggled delightfully as he revealed to the prince that the girl in his arms wasn’t Odette at all. That Odette was waiting for her prince by the lake. The curtain fell as the prince felt the stab of betrayal and rushed to Odette.

Brishti rushed to where she did not know. She wanted to get away from Namjoon, from this feeling that she couldn’t understand, couldn’t explain. She was angry. She wanted to break something. Tears still flowing down her face, she found a corner that was hidden away in darkness. She went in. Brishti sat on the couch there, for what seemed like eternity, breathing heavily. Nothing made sense. It felt like her insides were twisting into each other. Suddenly, though, a door creaked open and out came an angel. A man, glowing, having just freshened up. He saw her, saw her fear and instead of pulling back in shock, approached with a strange kindness. He held her wrist and stayed silent for a moment.

His beauty was also a kindness to her. In that moment, Brishti could breathe a little bit better. He sat down by her knees, on the floor and when he spoke, his voice flowed like a tonic, “First time at the ballet? It’s overwhelming… I know. You’re okay. You are safe. Rothbart is not here. Talk to me… what are you feeling?”

The tears kept flowing. This man was different, she knew he understood what she was feeling like. She felt safe, but not as if she was with a saviour, rather as though she was with another victim.

“What are you feeling…” Park Jimin repeated. The pieces were falling into place in her head. This is Park Jimin, the man who danced as Rothbart. The man who should have danced the Prince. Who should have played Odette and Odile.

“I feel… rage.” Brishti trembled as she spoke. She could breathe again.

“Yes… Rothbart is… evil… I’m sorry-”

Brishti nodded her head no. “At the prince.”

Jimin was surprised. “Let it out. You can scream in here and no one would know.”

Brishti didn’t need another invitation, but her rage wasn’t a scream, it was a whisper - “I want to hit the prince. How could he not now? He couldn’t see that that girl was not Odette? Is he blind? The way she moved, the way she danced… which only means… it means that the prince knew… somewhere he felt doubt but he… He couldn’t fucking trust himself enough?! I don’t know why this is breaking my heart… Why can’t people trust in themselves?! It’s a pathetic fucking excuse and I can’t buy it… I just can’t. Why did the prince...” Her hands covered her face as she wiped her tears. She composed herself.

Jimin pulled out a kerchief. “May I?” Brishti nodded and he dabbed her face with care.

“The prince trusted his sight more than his soul. And now, Odette will die because of it. As always, the woman pays the price.”

“He dies too, you know.”

“What a waste…”

Jimin smiled, “Thank you… for watching the show, for feeling it so much.”

Brishti managed a weak smile, “Thank you.” Jimin stepped away and sat next to her, at a respectable distance. “I’m being lied to.”

Jimin nodded, “I know what that’s like. I feel that rage against the prince too. And still, we must be kind to our liars.”

Brishti clenched her teeth, “Why? Where’s the fairness in that?”

Jimin moves away, in a dejected kind of daze and pours himself a drink, “That’s the biggest lie, fairness. Cruel joke.”

Brishti walked toward the door. “I should go… Thank you.”

Jimin raised his glass to her.

Brishti wore her coat and walked toward the exit. She found Namjoon in a panic and suddenly felt like she could reach him. He looked so relieved to see her. She couldn’t help but feel awash with love as he crashed into her in the warmest hug. It was as if he was the one who was lost.

“Are you okay? Why were you crying?” Namjoon asked her as he stroked her head and held her in the hug for as long as she needed.

“I need to ask you something.” Brishti whispered as she pulled away. They began walking down the stairs of the theatre.

“Änything.” Namjoon replied.

“Your firm… they refused the Jimin case, right?”

Namjoon froze. His jaw locked up. “Let’s go home.”

The rest of the way, neither of them spoke a word. They entered their home in a cold silence. They washed the night off themselves and entered their bedroom, which was completely devoid of the heat and desire that usually filled it right up to the ceiling. What used to feel like an ocean, now felt like a vacuum.

When Namjoon walked in, Brishti reminded him, as kindly as she could,“I said I need to ask you something. You said, ‘anything’.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to talk about it.” Namjoon was cold again. Unfeeling. Unreachable.

Brishti tried her best to be calm… “When would you want to talk about it?”

Namjoon breathed in - “Why? Am I answerable to you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, we disagree. I don’t think I am answerable to you. What would you have done if I wouldn’t have told you about it in the first place?”

“I would still be feeling what I’m feeling… I would be even more furious though.”

“Fu- why would you be furious? I have to work there, I lost the account. I’m feeling hurt and disappointed in myself and instead of helping me, you’re angry?! What the hell could you be angry at?!”

“I’m being lied to. I’m being tricked.”

“What?!” the contempt on Namjoon’s face made her head throb. He was angry now.

“There are two Namjoons here. I’m being told there’s only one and--”

“That is some philosophical trash that you learned from one of your books. Real life doesn’t work that way. But how would you know?! You don’t have a real job. You have a hobby. A hobby of stacking books in order. You’re just plain lucky that someone is paying you for your hobby. That’s not a job. You of all people cannot tell me about the things I have to do to keep my job. I have tried my best to be as honest as I can be--”

“As honest as you can --”

“Listen to me!” Namjoon thundered. His loud voice might as well have been a punch. It rang through her body and rattled her bones. She had tears in her eyes but clenched them down as Namjoon continued yelling, “Enough… enough with the fucking tears. What the fuck are you so sad about?! I don’t need you to pity me. I don’t need anyone to feel sad for me. I have tried to be a good man - do you even know how much other men don’t even mention to their wives?! I told you everything. EVERYTHING. And now I’m being punished for it. Time and time again I tried to console you… even though I was the one hurting… I tried to be there for you and tell you… as long as I have --”

Brishti couldn’t take it anymore “Don’t. Say that.” She didn’t yell. Her voice was just above a whisper and yet it sent a chill down Namjoon’s spine. She wiped her tears. “I didn’t ask to be consoled. I was just… curious. If a few questions from me hurt so much maybe you should ask yourself why. I’m not lucky that someone decided to pay me for my hobby. It’s nice to know what you really think of my job. But whatever you think, I created my job. I created my life. I fought to come to london. I fought for the right to earn--”

“Oh please... spare me the feminist lecture...” scoffed Namjoon.

“Sure. Take up Jimin’s case.”

Namjoon felt the burn of white hot rage. He wanted to strangle her. He was so used to touching her… and she was his… in this bedroom, he had made her his. He wasn’t thinking. Namjoon strode toward her and held one massive palm over her mouth and the other on her neck and pinned her to the wall. “YOU WOULDN’T HAVE KNOWN ABOUT THAT IF I DIDN’T TELL YOU.”

It took him a few moments to realise what he was doing. Brishti was shocked and tried to scream but no voice came out. She was trying to get him out of his daze when he finally saw her, saw his Rim, horrified… by him. Namjoon pulled his hands back instantly. He saw a red bruise bloom where his hands were - on her face and on her neck.

“This is how you make your conscience shut up?” Brishti’s voice was hoarse. “You think this has nothing to do with your conscience? With the best part of you? The part that you made me fall in love with? Are you really telling me you don’t know that this is why you can’t write the way you used to… You’re killing my Joon and asking me to stay silent. I can’t.”

The searing anger still hadn’t died and it burst out of him, “Why are we fighting like this… over Jimin… why don’t you take up his case if you fucking love him so much?”

“What do you think I’m doing right now?”

“You… Why are you fighting for him against me?!” It was here that Namjoon realised his armour was gone. The idea of who he is... suddenly vanished. And the one thing that had made him feel safe, like his true self, was slipping away. “You’re saying… just tell me… you’re saying what I think you’re saying.”

Brishti did him the only kindness she had left in her, she explained, “Jimin wants to leave but can’t. He stays because he needs to dance. He stays because he cannot get out of his contract. You say you want to help people like Jimin, you roll your eyes at white people who can’t pronounce our names, you feel guilty for asians who have much less than we do… but then you also don’t raise an issue when your boss holds meetings in clubs where people of other races and dogs and women are not allowed. You work overtime for the privilege of weekends… You say you are trying but… as far as I know… you don’t have a non-compete clause in your contract, Namjoon.”

That hit him like an iceberg. Namjoon’s legs gave way and he just sat on the bed.

He watched as Brishti put on her coat and left, covering her bruises with a scarf.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 6 - to be posted.

[nicknellie]

@millie-andrews-rose requested: Alex gets put with a bully on a paired project, so Willie goes with him when they work on it to help him stay calm. Willie and the boy bond over skateboarding and Alex gets jealous, causing an argument between them. The boy then apologises to Alex for being so awful. Alex and Willie make up and it ends with their first “I love you”s. (This was edited/simplified just to make it shorter.)

This is the longest oneshot I’ve ever written and I absolutely love it. I really hope I’ve done you proud, especially since this was such a great prompt! Thanks!

And It’s Not My Fault

Alex adored projects. He loved having something big to focus on, a goal to work towards, something to keep him preoccupied. Any big time-consuming task was a lot of fun for him whether it was a five-thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle or work for school worth a large part of his grade. There was, however, a single word that could be placed before the ‘project’ that would instantly transform it from Alex’s dream to his worst nightmare.

The word wasn’t ‘group’ as it would be for a lot of people. Alex liked group projects almost as much as he liked solo projects. Group projects were what he did with Julie, Luke, and Reggie almost every day, jamming in the studio and working towards having a complete set list in time for an upcoming gig. Group projects were what he occasionally did with Carrie and the girls of Dirty Candi when he would assist them with some choreography. Group projects were even tolerable with people Alex didn’t know well because he knew how they were supposed to work and usually he could convince everyone to do their fair share. So group projects were fine.

The word the ruined any chance of Alex having fun was ‘paired’.

Paired projects were the worst type of project. They always spelled trouble and Alex had never got a decent grade on one in his whole school career. It never felt like his fault, but when he thought about it he was the common denominator in every nightmare paired project scenario, so he had long ago decided that there must be something about paired projects that he was simply doing wrong.

Maybe it was that he wasn’t good one-on-one. Alex had always functioned better in groups (albeit small ones that couldn’t be overwhelming) and being face to face with just one person could be stressful. It was fine if it was a friend, and more than fine if it was his boyfriend, but when alone with a stranger Alex found himself running out of things to say and having nowhere to turn when the awkward silences set in. Or if he didn’t run out of things to say he would eventually say the wrong thing and that would start an entirely new alarm bell ringing in his mind as he panicked about accidentally being offensive. Overall, conversations without his emotional support band could be frustrating at best and somewhat dangerous at worst.

Perhaps it was true that Alex was the link in all these situations, but what he had always failed to consider was the fact that he had never been paired in a project with somebody who was actually willing to try and do well, which perhaps was a more prominent reason he’d never received a decent grade.

Alex had been having a good day. He was feeling bright for no reason in particular – needlessly optimistic days like this were his favourite, even though they usually were followed by needlessly pessimistic days as all those bad feelings caught up with him at once. Still, by now Alex had learnt to clutch that senseless joy while it was there and relish it before it was gone.

The joy was gone by noon.

“Alright, class,” Ms Osbourne said, clapping her hands to gain the class’s attention.

Alex hated his English classes. While he was good at English and rather enjoyed the subject itself, his class was rowdy and unruly and made it difficult to concentrate, while Ms Osbourne was a teacher so strict that if someone so much as thought about breaking a rule she would be able to sniff it out like a dog – but her bark was worse than her bite, and while she would shout an unnatural amount she rarely doled out punishments. The combination made for a lesson that was purely people shouting and no work being done.

The class quieted to a steady hum of chatter which was usually as silent as Ms Osbourne could get it. She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes, and continued. “Seeing as the end of the semester is coming up, I’m going to be setting you a project that will be worth forty percent of your grade. Essentially, it’s your final exam on our study of Macbeth.”

Alex perked up a little. He had been assigned projects for a lot of classes, but English projects were always the most enjoyable – they involved a lot of writing, which most people hated, but Alex found therapeutic; the only downside was that the source material was usually dreadfully dull. Still, Alex suddenly found himself looking forward to it.

And then she had to go and ruin it.

“I will tell you your assigned partners at the end of the lesson.”

Alex felt himself deflate and heaved a sigh. It had been too good to be true. Now he was going to be stuck on some boring project with a random student from his awful English class because he had no friends in this lesson and it was going to be horrible. It was all he could do to not let his head fall onto the table and scream in furious defeat.

It was on his mind all lesson. Who he was going to be with, what specific things the project would be on, how he could get out of it. His mind was buzzing with questions, building up energy that released itself by making his leg bounce up and down. Several times he found himself tapping out a rhythm on the table like it was his drumkit, his bouncing leg acting as if it was pounding the bass drum, and he had to force himself to stop and actually pay attention to the lesson.

The end came painfully slowly. The school bell rang and most of the students were up out of their seats immediately, ready to leave.

“Hang on,” Ms Osbourne yelled. “Everyone sit back down! I need to tell you your partners for the upcoming project.”

Alex listened attentively as she reeled off a list of names. Most people let out an annoyed groan when they found out they weren’t with a friend, and there was the occasional excited, “Yay!”

Alex knew he wouldn’t be one of the ones celebrating.

“Alex Mercer,” Ms Osbourne said eventually, pushing her glasses further up her tiny nose. “Your partner is Harry Reynolds.”

“Oh god,” Alex murmured. He felt his stomach squirm just as somebody kicked the back of his chair so hard that he jolted forward and nearly whacked his face on the table. The person laughed a moment later, obnoxiously loud, begging for retaliation – Alex didn’t dare turn around to look at them.

He knew already that it was Harry Reynolds sat behind him who had kicked his chair. His project partner, and possibly the worst person in the class that it could have been. For reasons unknown to Alex, Harry had always had it out for him. In middle school he had pushed Alex down a flight of stairs and he had landed unceremoniously in a trash can – Harry had started calling him Bin Boy and the nickname had stuck for a year afterwards; Harry was the only one who used it anymore though. Since then, Harry had just been a general jerk towards him, and upon hearing that they were going to be partners, Alex’s whole body told him to run.

Run where? Alex thought. This wasn’t a problem he could run from. Besides, Harry could probably run faster.

“Looks like it’s you and me, Bin Boy,” came Harry’s voice from behind. “I’m sure we’ll have loads of fun.”

Ms Osbourne finally finished listing pairs and then announced, “These partners are non-negotiable. I will not indulge any requests to switch for any reason. Life isn’t fair, sometimes we have to work with people we don’t like. Get used to it. Now go on, you’re already late for your next class.”

Alex wasn’t usually one to ignore instructions, but as the rest of the class filed out into the hallway he remained behind. He didn’t know what he was planning to say to Ms Osbourne, but he desperately needed to find a way out of the project, or at least switch partners.

“Go on, Alex,” Ms Osbourne said, “you’re going to be late.”

He swallowed thickly and said, “Miss, I was just wondering about the proj–”

“You’re not swapping partners,” she returned sternly. “I’ve already said this. I won’t make any allowances.”

“But, Miss, I can’t work with him,” Alex protested. She raised her eyebrows and started walking around the room, putting sheets on each table for her next class. Alex followed her as she went. “He hates me! It’s going to be awful.”

“Well, maybe the two of you can use this as a way to bond and get to know each other better, hm?”

“Miss, please,” Alex said, his desperation finally rearing its ugly head in his voice. He could feel his legs shaking and his hands wringing themselves together and his head tingling in a way he couldn’t describe, and finally he broke. “He has it out for me and I don’t even know why! He’s been awful to me ever since we were kids, he tries to pick fights with me, he calls me names. Last year he chased me around the field with a baseball bat for a whole PE lesson! If I have to work with him I’ll just end up panicking – or dead, that’s also a possibility – and the project will go terribly and I’ll fail the class. Please can I just work by myself?”

Ms Osbourne’s expression softened as she look at Alex over her glasses. For a moment, Alex’s hopes were raised just that tiny bit – maybe he had got through to her, maybe she would see sense.

But then her face turned to stone again.

“No,” she spat. “What you can do is figure out with Harry when the two of you are going to work on this project and how you’re going to go about it. And you can get to your next class.” She turned away with a cold air of finality. Alex could have sworn he actually felt chills.

Without a word, Alex heaved his bag onto his shoulder and made his way out of the classroom, crushed and dejected. He stared down at his feet as he walked and tried not to think about what the next few weeks could have in store for him.

Lunch couldn’t have come sooner. After what felt like an eternity, Alex finally made his way down to the cafeteria to meet up with his friends. If there was any one thing that was guaranteed to cheer Alex up when he was in a bad mood, it was the good company of his band and his boyfriend.

The rest of the group was already sat at their usual table when Alex arrived in the cafeteria; just seeing them laughing and joking together put the tiniest hint of a smile of his face. He headed over to them, but was stopped in his tracks by somebody stood in front of him – it was Harry Reynolds.

The boy had his arms crossed over his massive chest and was leering down at Alex with an expression of disgust. Alex tried to look past him at his friends, to get their attention, to ask for help, but they hadn’t seen him. Instead, he forced himself to look up into Harry’s brutish face and try not to squirm.

“Partners, huh?” Harry grunted. “I’m failing English so you’ll need to get us a good grade.”

“That’s the plan,” Alex said, willing his voice not to shake. It wasn’t that he was too frightened or intimidated by Harry, it was just the fact that he really didn’t feel like getting chucked in a bin today. One wrong move and he could consider that a real possibility.

“Be at my place on Saturday at one. Bring all your notes – I don’t have any.”

“I can’t do Saturday,” Alex told him, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I have band practise.”

Harry took a step closer. Alex couldn’t move back – his feet were rooted to the spot. “You think I care about your dopey little band practise? You’ll be there. That’s that.”

Alex swallowed, nodded hurriedly, and finally forced himself to take a step back so that he wasn’t chest to chest with Harry. “I’ll be there,” he echoed, still nodding.

Harry snarled, condescendingly patted Alex on the head, and walked off. Alex took a moment to collect himself, to breathe, to remind himself that he was okay and he wasn’t hurt, that Harry hadn’t done anything. He steadied himself and kept walking towards his friends, trying to mask the worry on his face.

Of course, he failed miserably.

The moment Alex sat down in his usual space between Willie and Luke, Willie took his hand, watching him with concern. “Hey,” Willie said gently, “what’s up?”

Julie, Luke, and Reggie immediately stopped their conversation, turning to face Alex and Willie. Alex hated the way they were looking at him, like he’d break if they dropped him, but it wasn’t like he could ask them to stop caring – instead, he looked at each of them, trying and failing to give them a reassuring smile before he spoke.

“Nothing,” Alex said, “nothing, it’s just… just this project for English.”

Luke sighed dramatically. “Has your class got that stupid Shakespeare assignment too? I get it, bro, it’s totally pointless–”

“No,” Alex interrupted quietly. “No, that’s not it. Well, kind of. Yeah, we’ve got the Shakespeare assignment but that’s not… not the problem.”

“What is it?” Willie prompted gently when Alex didn’t continue.

Alex shrugged. “It’s stupid.”

Julie leaned over the table and grasped Alex’s other hand. “Alex, your feelings are not stupid.”

She smiled warmly. Funny things happened when Julie smiled – when she did it to Luke, it wasn’t uncommon for him to literally trip over himself; when she did it to Reggie, it made him smile in return for hours on end; and when she did it to Alex, it gave him such overwhelming confidence that for a moment or two he could truly do anything.

“It’s just that we were assigned partners and I got stuck with Harry Reynolds,” he admitted, clutching Willie and Julie’s hands tighter. “It’s nothing and I shouldn’t be worried but–”

“It’s not nothing,” Willie said. Alex couldn’t quite read his expression – it looked to be something between sympathy and outrage. “That guy is the worst. Did you talk to your teacher about it?”

Alex nodded gravely. “She wouldn’t let me switch.”

“How much did you tell her?” Willie asked.

“What I thought would have been enough,” he replied, shrugging like it was nothing. “But it wasn’t.”

“She should be fired for that,” Reggie interjected. Everyone turned to look at him. “I’m just saying – if by ‘enough’ you mean that you told her what a jerk he’s been to you then she should follow that up and treat it like an issue instead of making you work with him.”

What would have been wise words were ruined slightly by the fact that Reggie spoke them around a mouthful of pizza.

“Reggie’s right,” Julie said, “she’s definitely in the wrong here.”

“I know that,” Alex told them, because he did, that much was obvious. “But it’s a little late for that now. I’m stuck with him.”

Willie clutched his hand tighter, threaded their fingers together. Alex leaned to the side, rested his head on Willie’s shoulder. Julie let go of his hand and Willie immediately picked it up – he smiled a little at both of them.

“I know saying it’s all going to be okay won’t help,” Willie whispered to him, “but you’ve got to try and believe that it will. And if it isn’t, I am just one call away. If you need anything – I mean anything – you call me and I will be there. Okay?”

Alex’s tense muscles relaxed the tiniest bit. “Okay,” he muttered back. “That’s okay.”

Willie kissed the top of his head and a fraction of Alex’s anxiety lifted. Willie would be there when he needed him no matter what. That was something he could always count on.

*

Luke hadn’t been happy when Alex had called him early on Saturday morning to tell him he wouldn’t be coming to band practise that day. He had given Alex a half-hour-long earful about how they had a gig coming up in a few days’ time and they needed to be rehearsing like crazy. It hadn’t been pleasant for Alex in the slightest, but at least it had been a welcome distraction from the other thing on his mind, the reason he had had to cancel band practise in the first place.

It was the day he was supposed to go to Harry’s house to work on their project. Alex had hardly slept the night before – he had lay awake in bed for hours, tossing and turning, trying to empty his mind and relax, but sleep just wouldn’t come. At half past two he had crept downstairs and made a batch of brownies using a recipe of his grandmother’s. At the time he’d thought that maybe he could use them to placate Harry once he got to his house, but he’d accidentally ended up stress-eating the entire batch instead.

He felt sick, but couldn’t tell if it was the brownies or the anxiety. Probably an unhealthy mix of both, he decided.

But he had passed the first hurdle and he told himself to be proud of that – he had arrived outside Harry’s house. It was a small bungalow on a road that led nowhere and Alex was struck by how normal it looked. It didn’t look like the sort of place somebody like Harry Reynolds should have lived; Harry was larger than life, tall and brooding, moody and mean – this house looked as if its occupants sold flowers and rescued kittens in their spare time.

Despite the outward appearances of the house, Alex was almost certain that he was in the right place. The front window seemed to show Harry’s bedroom because through it Alex could see innumerable trophies, all for different sporting events; a large stack of magazines (Alex was sure he could already guess what each contained); and a small enclosure that looked to Alex unbearably similar to a tank that might house a snake or a spider or any other creature that Alex would have preferred stayed thousands of miles away from him where it belonged.

He could not make himself walk into the house.

He had been trying for almost fifteen minutes and had walked past the house almost thirty times. He had counted his steps and was somewhere near eight thousand. His mind was racing, shooting through a hundred anxieties before Alex had the chance to dwell on any of them – maybe that was for the best. But it didn’t help the fact that he could not force his legs to walk in the direction of the door.

The worries stopping him weren’t even big ones like ‘What if he tries to hurt me?’ which Alex stressed over every time he interacted with Harry. It was the little things and the impossible things pricking the back of his mind like needles: What if he doesn’t answer the door? What if nobody’s home? What if I’m at the wrong house? What if he’s changed his mind? What if I got the wrong day? What if I got the wrong time? What if he’s not actually my project partner? What if… What if… What if…

What if I call Willie?

Alex blessed his brain for having its first sensible thought that day. He fished his phone out his pocket and called Willie, who picked up after one ring.

“Hey,” Willie said, “what’s up, hotdog?”

“I, um… I’m at Harry’s house. I can’t go inside.”

“Why not?” Willie asked. “Is the door locked? Are they out?”

Alex shook his head although Willie couldn’t see him. “No. I don’t think so. It’s just… I… I can’t do it.”

“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Willie asked patiently.

“I can’t go inside,” Alex repeated. With his free hand, he tugged at the strap of his fanny pack, fiddling with the buckle where it lay over his chest. “I can’t go up to the door. I’ve been trying for, like, twenty minutes and every time I try my head starts buzzing and my legs go numb and I’m starting to feel really sick now because I ate an entire batch of brownies meant for at least ten people and I can’t do this–”

“Okay,” Willie interrupted. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Breathe, Alex. Remember the breathing exercises we went over? Breathe in for four and out for six. Come on, hotdog, you’ve got this.”

Alex did as he said, taking great shuddering breaths of bitter air and releasing them slowly. Willie kept talking him through it, slowly, softly, kindly, and after about ten minutes Alex felt refreshed. Not necessarily worry-free, but his mind had cleared a little bit.

“Okay,” Willie said. “That was great, well done. Can you give me this guy’s address?”

Alex gave it to him.

“Luckily for you, that’s just down the road from where I am right now,” Willie said, chipper. Alex could hear the smile in his voice and it almost made him smile himself. Almost. “I’ll be there in a minute. I’ll go inside with you, if that’s what you want?”

Alex breathed a haggard, relieved sigh. “Yes. Please. If you don’t mind. Thank you, Willie.”

Willie gave a small chuckle. “Any time, hotdog. You know I’d do anything for you. I’ll see you in a minute.”

And he hung up.

Alex waited, still doing his breathing exercises, but didn’t need to wait long. Hardly five minutes later, Willie rolled up (literally – he was on his skateboard) and gave him a bright smile. Alex didn’t hesitate before lurching forward and pulling him into a hug.

“Thank you, Willie,” he whispered. “I really appreciate it.”

Willie’s response was simply to hug him tighter.

Together, hands clasped tightly between them, Willie with his board tucked under his arm, they made their way up to the bungalow’s front door. Alex swallowed, steeled himself, and then firmly knocked on the door. When nobody answered it in the first five seconds, Alex told Willie, “This is a bad idea,” and tried to turn away to leave.

However, Willie just pulled him back and a moment later the door opened. On the threshold of the house was Harry, staring down at Alex and Willie. Something about him wasn’t quite as nightmarish as it was at school, yet at the same time Alex was much more afraid. He held Willie’s hand tighter.

Harry nodded in Willie’s direction. “Who’s this, Bin Boy? You brought your boyfriend?”

“Actually, yeah,” Willie said, speaking for Alex. He was glad – his throat felt thick and he didn’t think he could have summoned up any words if he tried. “I’m Willie. I’ve heard about you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? What?”

“Just a few things,” Willie said nonchalantly. “Nothing important. Anyway, I was in the neighbourhood and Alex and I are set to hang out when he’s done here anyway so I thought I’d come along. Is that alright with you?”

“It’s fine,” Harry returned with a shrug. Then his eyes landed on something and his entire expression changed. Alex didn’t think he’d ever seen Harry look like this before. Could it have been what he thought it was: excitement? “Bro! You skate?”

Willie lifted his board half-heartedly. “This isn’t just for decoration.”

Harry grinned, clapping Willie on the shoulder so hard that his hand dropped from Alex’s. “Dude, that’s sick, I do too. Come on, get inside, man.”

Harry headed back into the house and Willie followed him. Alex took a moment to wonder what the hell that had been, then took a deep breath and hurried after them. When he caught up with Willie he grabbed his hand again. Willie just smiled bemusedly up at him.

Harry led them to his bedroom and beckoned them towards his desk.

“Come look at this,” Harry said. “I had a photo taken with Tony Hawk last year!”

Alex perched himself right on the edge of the bed awkwardly as Willie went over to inspect the framed photo.

“Are you sure that’s Tony Hawk?” Willie asked. “Doesn’t look like him.”

Harry shook his head. “You’ve got to imagine he’s holding a skateboard, then you’ll see it.”

Alex watched Willie squint at the photo for a moment or two longer, then he gasped and, to Alex’s horror, began to smile. “Oh, wait… yeah, kinda. That’s awesome, dude!”

“Yeah! Anyway, how long have you been skating for?”

As Willie answered, Alex zoned out of the conversation. Ordinarily, he loved listening to Willie talk about skating – he lit up whenever he explained a new trick he’d learnt, and seeing him flush with pride after he demonstrated it perfectly to Alex always made him feel giddy – but it just wasn’t the same listening to him chat with Harry Reynolds of all people. Alex didn’t even know who that Tony Hawk guy was and it didn’t seem like anyone was about to bother explaining it to him. He would never have admitted it, but listening to Willie talk to Harry was almost annoying.

He busied himself by looking around the room, getting a glimpse at what the real Harry Reynolds was like. At school, Harry was the classic, early-2000s movie jock, on every sports team the school had to offer, constantly bragging about his luck with girls, and picking on people smaller than him (which, because Harry was built like a tree trunk, was pretty much everyone). His room reflected it too; there were even more trophies than Alex had seen through the window, most for football or, unexpectedly, karate, and the walls were plastered in posters displaying buff men and weirdly specific motivational quotes. Only now did Alex notice the skateboards stuck on the wall and the stack of helmets by his bed, as well as several skating posters directly above them.

He turned back to Willie and Harry just in time to hear Willie laugh. Properly laugh, loud and genuine. Willie only laughed like that with his friends and it hearing it in Harry’s room stirred an uneasy feeling in the pit of Alex’s stomach.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, trying to smile.

Willie waved him off. “Don’t worry, hotdog, just a skating joke.”

Harry snickered, shaking his head. “Pretty freaking funny though.”

“Oh,” Alex said. He tried for a laugh but it was the least genuine noise he had ever made – judging by the look Harry sent him, it had been obvious how fake it was to him too. Alex cleared his throat awkwardly. “Shouldn’t we get on with our work? We’re already running behind schedule.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Shut it, Bin Boy, we’re having a conversation here. You start if you want, I’ll join you whenever.”

Alex sent a look to Willie, eyes wide and pleading. Willie frowned, looking conflicted, but then shrugged.

Willie and Alex didn’t fight often, but Alex wouldn’t have minded giving Willie a piece of his mind right then and there.

He didn’t though. He sighed, shuffled back on the bed so that he could have more room and lean on the mattress, and he started working on the project. It wasn’t too difficult, just an analysis on the themes of Macbeth, something they had gone over in class a hundred times; still, Alex would have appreciated some help, seeing as this was a paired project and he didn’t exactly want to do the whole thing alone.

But it was fine. He kept telling himself that it was completely and utterly fine. But every so often Willie or Harry would laugh or suddenly shout, and the abrupt noise would startle Alex. The third time that happened he accidentally jogged his highlighter so it zigzagged all over his painstakingly neat paragraph on King James I. He gripped his pen so hard that the plastic almost cracked, and set about writing the whole thing again on a new piece of paper.

Alex didn’t know how long he had been working for, but he did know that it had been a hell of a long time and Harry still hadn’t made any effort to help him. He had copied up all his notes on the supernatural, women, ambition, and the Great Chain of Being, all the while Harry had sat there with Willie, not doing anything.

The strange thing was, Alex found himself more angry at Willie than he was at Harry.

Eventually, he checked the time, his hand aching. It was almost five o’clock, which meant he had been working alone for about four hours solidly. He had done pretty much half of the project in that time and was nearing his breaking point – he thought that if he left now he could catch the tail end of band practise and take his frustration out on his drumkit.

Gathering his notes and all his work, Alex said, “I’m going to head out.”

Willie checked the clock on Harry’s desk and then set about clipping his helmet on. “Yeah, we should get going. This was fun, though, man. It was nice to talk to a fellow skater for once.”

“I hear you, dude,” Harry returned. They fist-bumped and Alex physically cringed. “Catch you later.”

Alex didn’t say goodbye, just saw himself out. He didn’t wait for Willie. He simply walked, trying to get out of the house and as far away as possible in as little time as he could. Alex could hear Willie shouting for him to wait up but he didn’t stop.

He felt Willie grab his hand and pull him to a halt, but pulled his hand from Willie’s grasp.

“What’s up with you?” Willie asked, seeming truly bewildered. “I thought that was alright back there, it was relaxed, not stressful. Are you still feeling anxious?”

Alex didn’t answer his question and instead he said with much more venom than he had intended, “What the hell was that?”

Willie looked taken aback. Alex almost felt bad. Almost.

“What was what?”

“In there!” Alex yelled, pointing in the direction of Harry’s house. “You talking to him like you’re best friends! That guy is a jerk, you know that, Willie, so why were you laughing and joking with him as if he’s the nicest guy in the world?”

Willie didn’t look impressed. “Sorry, I was under the impression you wanted me there. I was talking to him to distract from you. That’s what you wanted, right? You were nervous about going so you wanted my help to take the pressure off you. I was helping you, Alex, because that was what you asked me to do!”

“Not like that,” Alex protested. “You weren’t supposed to bond with him, leave me out completely so that I had to do all the work by myself and listen to you two talk about skateboards and… Toby Eagle, or whoever that guy was!”

“It was Tony Hawk. And it’s not my fault that Harry likes skateboarding,” Willie shot back. “It’s also not my fault that I enjoyed talking to someone who shares that interest for once. You listen and you pretend to know what I’m talking about, but it isn’t the same.”

“It didn’t have to be him!”

“Actually, given the circumstances, it did. And like I said – it got the attention off you, so I don’t see why you’re complaining.”

Alex felt his temper rising with each sentence. He never got this upset at Willie, this was a complete first. Sure, they had argued like any couple would, but he had never felt any real anger towards his boyfriend. It frightened him, and that fright stopped him from seeing any sense, taking a step back, calming himself down.

“I didn’t want you to do it like that,” he said, as if it was obvious. It was obvious to Alex – why wasn’t it obvious to Willie?

“I can’t read your mind, Alex,” Willie shouted, pointing at himself. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head!”

“You should know!”

“I don’t! It could be anything! I don’t think you realise that when it comes to you and your anxiety, I’m pretty much flying as blind as you are. Sure, I’ve done my research and I can handle it, but I never know what’s going to trigger you and set you off like earlier today. I may seem prepared, but I don’t know what you’re thinking and I don’t know what you’re going to worry about most. It is not my fault that sometimes I might not handle it in the best way. I’m trying my hardest, Alex.”

“You aren’t the one who has to go through the panic attacks and the constant worry, are you?” Alex seethed.

Willie shrugged. “No, I’m not. But I still worry about you all the time because I don’t know what’s going to set you off.”

“It’s not my fault I have anxiety,” Alex yelled.

“I never said it was! But it’s not my fault either – I dropped everything just to come and help you today and all you’re doing is throwing it right back in my face and arguing with me for helping you out! It’s not my fault that you can’t do these easy things and that you need me to hold your hand all the time!”

Alex froze. Willie did too. The words were out there, they’d been spoken without hesitation. They hung between the two of them like a toxic cloud, as both of them slowly realised the weight those words had held.

Willie broke the silence, reaching out his hand to Alex, trying to bridge that gap between them that had widened impossibly in the last ten seconds. “Alex, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean t–”

Alex stepped back, out of reach from Willie. Willie flinched and he withdrew his hand, instead crossing his arms and rubbing circles by his elbow with his thumb. It was a nervous tick Alex only ever saw when Willie was really stressed out. Normally he would have tried to soothe him, calm him down, but all he could hear were Willie’s words echoing back and forth through his mind.

It’s not my fault that you can’t do these easy things and that you need me to hold your hand all the time!

Alex schooled his features to careful neutrality, not betraying any emotion. It wasn’t hard, seeing as he wasn’t feeling much at that moment anyway, just a cold detachment.

“I heard you,” Alex said quietly. He couldn’t look Willie in the eye. “I heard exactly what you said. I know what you meant.”

“Then you’ve got to know that I wasn’t trying to–”

“I know what you meant,” he repeated. “I’m going back to band practise. I don’t think you should come and watch today.”

He shook his head and, turning on his heel, walked away. He didn’t hear Willie’s footsteps following him this time.

*

Band practise had helped calm Alex down with a mixture of wrestling his drumkit and talking things out with Julie, Luke, and Reggie. They had all seemed utterly shocked that Willie would say anything like that, but Alex wasn’t so surprised. After all, things like this were what he worried about – being left alone, being disliked by the people he cared for most, being a nuisance, being abandoned. Deep down in the pit of his worst anxieties, he had been worried that something like this could have happened.

He just had never thought it would have come from Willie.

While band helped him calm down, it didn’t help cheer him up. He regretted even bringing the argument up in the first place – if he had ignored his feelings (which Julie had bluntly explained to him were jealousy) then he could have avoided the whole argument. Instead of lying in his cold bed, unable to sleep that night, he could have been curled up with Willie on the couch in the studio, warm and cosy because Willie was like a human radiator.

He knew that neither of them had been fair on each other. He could see Willie’s side of the argument once he had calmed down. But he knew that what he had said was equally valid and he couldn’t get past the scorn in Willie’s voice when he’d said those damning words.

He didn’t hear from Willie all throughout Sunday and didn’t make any moves to contact him himself either. If he did, he had no clue where he would have even begun. Perhaps an apology – but where was he supposed to take the conversation from there?

So Sunday was silent.

Alex was slightly dreading school on Monday, but he wasn’t about to ruin his high grades by not showing up, especially this close to the end of the semester. Grudgingly, he headed to school and went straight to his first lesson, which just so happened to be the lesson from Hell: English.

He arrived there before the rest of the class, including Ms Osbourne, which meant he had time to dwell on his thoughts alone. He probably wasn’t going to fail this class – despite Saturday having been a nightmare, he had managed to get a lot of good work done on the project and it would be of a very high quality when he finally got it finished. But he still had more work to do and he knew that he really ought to do it with Harry. Absently, he pondered whether or not to bring Willie next time he needed to go to Harry’s house.

Talk of the devil, Alex thought as the classroom door swung open and none other than Harry himself sauntered in. He looked at Alex sat there alone, the only other person in the room, and grunted, coming to sit beside him.

Alex didn’t have the energy to be scared of Harry Reynolds today.

“I’ve been looking for you, Mercer,” Harry said conversationally.

“Oh, joy,” Alex deadpanned. Harry looked surprised, probably because Alex wasn’t cowering in fear, but he shrugged it off.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he continued. “I just wanted to say that your boyfriend, that Willie guy, he’s really cool. I mean, the way he was talking about skating the other day – I don’t know if you realise it, man, but he has a real shot at going pro.”

“I know,” Alex spat. “He’s my boyfriend, of course I know. Maybe I don’t skate but I still listen to him. And I know him better than you do.”

Harry held up a hand. “Woah, calm down, Bin B– uh. Alex. I’m just trying to say the guy is really cool and you’re really lucky to have him. And also… talking to him the other day, he said– well, you weren’t listening, were you?”

Alex shook his head.

“We did stop talking about skating at some point, you know,” Harry told him. “Willie was telling me how awesome you are and, you know, explaining why he likes you so much. And I guess it made me realise that I’ve kind of been a jerk to you for a long time – I mean, he literally told me so. He told me to stop being such a douchebag to you.”

Alex grunted. “He’s right. You should stop. It sucks.”

Harry nodded. “I wanted to apologise for it, I guess. I’m sorry for being so nasty to you. I think it’s just because I was young and dumb and I didn’t realise it was hurting you at first, then it just stuck. I kind of always thought it was friendly too – I didn’t think you minded. I thought it was banter.”

“It wasn’t,” Alex said, meeting his eyes. “It never was. I’m terrified of you, you’ve made my life a misery. Thanks for the apology, but it’s no excuse.”

“I know that,” he admitted. “But I just wanted to explain why. I’m going to try my best to be a better guy from now on. It won’t make up for everything I’ve done in the past, but can you give me a chance to get this right?”

Alex considered. Somehow, Harry seemed completely serious. His expression was slightly pleading and he looked a little awkward and uncomfortable to be asking this of Alex, but it seemed real.

So he nodded.

“Fine. Thank you.”

Harry clapped him on the back. “No worries, dude. And, uh… this might not be my place to ask, but are you okay? You look down.”

Alex shrugged. “I had an argument with Willie after we left your place the other day. I’ve not spoken to him since.”

“Was it my fault?” Harry asked.

“Kinda,” Alex told him, shrugging again. “I just… I didn’t like how friendly you two seemed. After everything you’ve done to me in the past, watching him get along with you like it was nothing made me a little mad.”

“Sorry, bro,” Harry said, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m not into him or anything, so you’ve got nothing to worry about there – plus, he’s crazy about you, so even if someone else did like him they’d be out of luck. I just wanted to talk with someone about skating for once, none of my friends are into it.”

“Willie said the same thing,” Alex admitted.

Harry nodded awkwardly. “I don’t have any say in your relationship, but honestly I’m kind of invested in it now and I think you guys should talk it out. I’d hate to think I played some part if you ended up breaking up over this.”

“I don’t want to break up with him,” Alex objected, horrified. The thought of breaking up with Willie, losing him forever, made him feel sick to the stomach.

The rest of the class began filing into the classroom. Harry stood up, shrugged, and then clapped Alex on the shoulder.

“Go talk to him, then.”

*

Alex, for the first time in his life, took the advice Harry had given him and decided to take that first, absolutely terrifying step towards fixing the break between himself and Willie. If he knew his boyfriend (and he did) then Willie would have gone to the skatepark straight after school, so that was where Alex headed too.

Sure enough, Alex found Willie at the skatepark, sat at the top of the highest ramp. Every now and then, someone on a board would do a trick nail-bitingly close to Willie’s face, but he didn’t flinch even once. He was staring off into the peachy sunset, seemingly lost in his thoughts. Alex climbed up there and sat himself down next to him.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked uneasily.

Willie startled and turned to Alex, caught unawares. “Alex! I thought you–”

Willie didn’t get to finish his sentence because Alex pulled him into a tight, bone-crushing, fierce hug, pouring every last ounce of love and regret into it. He felt Willie hug back with equal force and buried his face into Willie’s long hair. This, he knew, was how it was supposed to be – Alex and Willie, boyfriends who care far too much about each other, not Alex and Willie, boyfriends on the edge of a break-up.

Eventually, Alex withdrew himself and let Willie go mostly, still keeping a tight clutch on his upper arms.

“I am so sorry,” he said, breathless. “I’m sorry for everything I said and for starting the argument and for everything that happened that day.”

Willie shook his head. “Don’t. I’m sorry, I should have realised how talking to Harry like that would have made you feel. It was dumb of me, and I shouldn’t have said such hurtful things to you, and–”

“I get it,” Alex said breezily, “I’m a lot to deal with.”

Desperately, Willie said, “But that’s not what I meant! I can’t explain what I was trying to say, but I wouldn’t change anything about you or our relationship for the world. You mean the everything to me, Alex, and I never want to do something to jeopardise what we have ever again. I’d do anything to take back what I said to you that day.”

Alex pulled him back into the hug, needing to be close to him. “It wasn’t just you. It was both of us. And Harry. But we’ve all apologised now, even him, so we can put this whole thing behind us.”

Willie pulled back, surprised. “He apologised?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, nodding. “Because of you. He said you were going on about how amazing I am and he realised he’d been a jerk.”

Willie blushed the tiniest bit, and playfully punched Alex’s arm. “Well, you are amazing. You’re more than amazing. You’re a miracle and I’m lucky to have you.”

Smiling, Alex cupped Willie’s cheek and gently pulled him in for a kiss. It was soft, slow, and Alex felt like they were glowing, bright and warm and happy. They kissed until every unspoken word had been said, until the last of the orange sunset had ebbed away into night-time blue, until streetlights cast an amber glow across the skatepark, in which they were the only ones left. Alex felt like he was finally at peace, with himself and with Willie.

He pulled back and rested his forehead against Willie’s. “I’m lucky to have you too. I can’t even begin to understand what good luck brought you to me.”

Willie moved back slightly, shuffled further away until he was only holding Alex’s hands, until that was the only point where they touched. Alex missed his warmth.

“Sorry,” Willie giggled, smile bright. “I wanted to be able to look you in the eyes for this.”

“For what?” Alex asked.

Willie’s smile softened. “I love you, Alex. And I’m pretty sure I always will.”

Alex’s heart stopped. It was the first time he’d ever heard those words out loud. Sure, he had felt them in every little action from Willie in all the time they’d been together – he had felt his love in the way he cared for him when he was sick, in the way he bundled himself up in Alex’s hoodies, in the way he played with Alex’s hair, in the way he brought him back from the edge when he was anxious, in the way he devoted every part of himself to Alex.

He had loved Willie in return too, in the little ways – how he listened to Willie talk about skating and watched him practise, how he brushed and braided Willie’s hair to relax them both, how he danced with Willie whenever he wanted because he simply couldn’t say no, how he wrote songs that only Willie would ever hear, how he listened to Willie talk nonsense in his sleep on those nights they slept at the studio together.

But he too had never said the words out loud.

He pulled Willie in for another kiss, brief but burning, and then held his hands again. Willie was right – this was something Alex wanted to look in his eyes for.

“I love you, too, Willie. I’ll never stop.”

[barkkletshunt]

Those Worth Fighting For Part four

Have you ever seen a fic update so fast? Four updates in two days?

Part one

Part two

Part three

Part five 

Part six

Part seven

Part eight 

“While I like the idea of them having a red, green, and gold colour scheme going on, don’t you think it would have too much of a christmas theme and take away from the magic of their wedding?” Marinette sat on the same couch as Felix did, across from Kagami and Adrien who, despite their careful appearances, looked frazzled. 

“But those are our favourite colours,” Adrien tried, but Felix held his hand up to stop his cousin.

“Your wedding is in late spring, if you think for a moment that christmas colours are appropriate for that time of year then you need to hand over your fathers fashion industry to me right now.” Felix sipped at his now cold cup of coffee. “If anything, we could do red and gold and have green accents if we used things like leaves and give it a more rustic feel.”

“But that wouldn’t go well with their general aesthetic. They need to look like a king and queen, not a cottagecore couple.” Marinette countered. “I think we could go with a green, gold, and cream theme. That way they both get one of their favourites while keeping with the posh style. Either way, no matter what gold has to be a part of it. That I will not budge on.”

“If we made Adrien’s tie green it would bring out his eyes more.” Felix hummed, looking over at his co-planner. “You have good tastes, Marinette.”

“Why thank you, Felix, your tastes aren’t so bad yourself.” She said back. 

The two planners had successfully gotten their way with the wedding with everything they had put forth. Marinette’s ideas were either on point with Felix’s or close to it so the planning was going a lot easier than either of them had expected. Both had spent enough time with the bride and groom to know their likes and dislikes and due to their fashion background they knew what they were doing. 

They were unstoppable, not that Kagami and Adrien even tried. They saw the fire that was lit behind their companions' eyes and knew better, and it wasn’t like they didn’t like anything their friends had said. In fact, the more the two spoke the more excited Kagami and Adrien felt about the upcoming event. 

“Why don’t we make the groomsmen wear gold ties, just so that Adriens tie doesn’t fade in with the rest of them.” Marinette rambled, showing Felix the designs she had tucked away in her portfolio that she refused to show Kagami. “If you wear green too your eyes will stand out and Adrien is supposed to be the one people are paying attention to.”

“Should the bridesmaids wear green then? If that dress design is anything to go by we don’t want Kagami to blend in with the other girls.” Felix hummed, sliding closer to Marinette without thinking about it. “Can’t have you stealing the show from the bride, you know.”

Marinette’s face grew warm at the compliment, even if it did match her unintentional flirting moments earlier. The added proximity didn’t help, but she could pull herself together. This was Felix, after all, and despite how nice he had been that evening she still needed to see more of him before passing a proper judgement on him. 

The two planners missed the looks between the future Mr. and Mrs Agreste. 

“Well, after the akuma attack today I feel exhausted. I think I shall turn in tonight, since the two of you have it covered.” Kagami said as she stood from her seat. 

“Did you want me to make you a coffee?” Adrien asked innocently enough, but was immediately shut down.

“No, if I have a coffee now I won’t sleep.” Kagami raised her brow at her fiance, wondering if he had caught her drift yet. “And you have business to take care of in the morning. Let’s leave the planning to these two, shall we?”

The blonde man abruptly stood up, realizing what she was getting at. “Oh, oh! Yeah! Of course! They don’t really need our input for any of this stuff anyways, and I’m definitely beat after that sentimonster. We should go to bed.”

The owners of the house bid their goodnights and quickly escaped from the room, leaving Marinette and Felix sitting there dumbfounded. 

“Have, have they always been that obvious in their plans?” Felix finally asked, breaking the silence that had stretched on after their friend's departure. 

Marinette shook her head, “I have only seen them like that once when they were trying to plan a surprise birthday party for me.”

“And how well did that go for them?”

“Adrien ordered the cake from my parents bakery over the phone, but didn’t realize that I was the one taking his order.” Marinette recalled the look of horror on Adrien’s face when he had come to pick the cake up the day prior, and had begged Marinette not to tell Kagami he blew it. “For someone so smart he can be really oblivious, you know.”

“I did live with him for two years, I am well aware of how he can be.” Felix snorted. He shifted positions so he was facing towards Marinette. “I think it actually turned me into a better person, to be honest.”

“What do you mean?” Marinette mirrored his position on the couch. Adrien was an open book to her, she could ask him anything about himself and he’d answer her, and when she asked about his time in England he never said much about it. She couldn’t miss hearing about it from a second party, though. Especially when her friend was the cause of someone becoming a better person.

“Well, as I’m sure you are aware I was a terrible teenager.” Felix started.

“What? You? The man who deleted my love confession and mocked our friends?” Marinette jokingly pushed his shoulder. “I don’t believe it.”

Felix grinned, “I know, I know. I’m such a saint now. I wasn’t sure if you had even recognized me at first.”

“It was a bit difficult without those devil horns you used to wear.”

“Oh those? Those were natural. Grew them myself. Kind of miss them, actually.” 

The two laughed for a moment, enjoying their friendly banter that seemed to come so easily to them. 

“Okay,” Marinette giggled, “tell me how our sweet sunshine child managed to change the demon known as Felix.”

“Well, when he first moved in I was sent into a whirlwind of emotion.” Felix started, “I was still angry that Adrien had abandoned me when my father had died because his father wouldn’t let him call or text us, but I also knew how terrible it was to lose a father even if it was only to a lifetime imprisonment. I had so much baggage that I took it out on him. I think I made the first few weeks of his stay with us hell.”

The blonde man shifted, no longer wanting to look her in the eye as he confessed to his crimes. It didn’t take a trained psychoanalyst to see the regret he felt coming out and causing him to fidget. 

“It was when he transferred into my school and started to get bullied that I changed my tune.” Marinette was shocked. Adrien was so loveable and kind, how could anyone have bullied him? Then it donned on her. He was a terrorist's son. “People would shove notes in his locker with butterflies on it, or draw on his desk, and he’d just smile and say that they must have been doing it because of his fathers fashion symbol being a butterfly. Perhaps he wasn’t oblivious to it, but purposefully ignorant. No one would want to believe their father was the supervillian of Paris after all.”

“It was then that I decided to switch my targets from my cousin to those bullying him, and oh was I ever brutal. I had a few of them expelled for harassment, some I actually got physical with since they assumed I was Adrien. Either way, it was my school and I wasn’t going to let anyone insult my cousin. That was my job.” Felix’s brows pulled together. “It was the fights that got Adrien to step in. He reminded me that the emotions of people were complicated things, and that they were acting out more out of fear than actual hatred towards him. He told me what he actually needed wasn’t another bodyguard, but someone to lead his PR campaign.” 

Marinette remembered when Adrien’s image in the media had changed the first time, when he went from brilliant model to the heir to Hawkmoth's legacy. It had taken almost another full year of Adrien working harder than he ever had before to show the world that he wasn’t a monster, and it still took a live interview from Ladybug herself to convince the rest of the public that there was no way Adrien was involved in any of his fathers crimes nor was he a holder of a miraculous. It had been a wild ride from start to finish, but all considering it only took two whole years to get Adrien back in the world's good graces when the sunshine boy didn’t think he’d ever be able to live it down. 

“I spearheaded Adrien’s redemption. We donated to so many relief funds, I used our similar appearances to go onto talk shows to give a more calculated interviews. I did everything in my power to make people realize how inherently good Adrien is, and it worked.” Felix let out a long breath before turning a kind smile towards her. “But by the time all of that was done I had changed. I had become a person Adrien was proud of, and now I am here planning his wedding with his best friend. Whom, might I add, he talked about almost as much as he did his own girlfriend.”

“Now if you could have told me that, say, five years ago I would have been ecstatic.” Marinette set her portfolio down on the coffee table as she remembered how intense her crush for Adrien used to be. “But I am long over my crush on Adrien.”

“I am sorry about that, by the way.”

“Hm?” Marinette tilted her head to the side, not sure what he was talking about.

“Deleting your confession.” He explained. “It was wrong of me. I was jealous and petty and I’m sorry.”

Marinette wasn’t angry anymore, even if she wanted to be. Felix wasn’t the same as he was all those years ago and neither was she. It was silly for her to hold onto all that anger when he had changed himself so completely. 

“I am, however, not sorry you didn’t end up with my cousin.” He grinned. “Now I might have a chance.”

Maybe not so completely.

“In your dreams, devil boy!”

[momsopposed2theoccult]

Not Alone

So I wrote a thing. It’s Tokka-ish but could be interpreted as romantic or platonic. I’m currently waiting on an Ao3 invite so I’ll probably post it on there as well once I receive my invite, but for now I figured I would post it on here because I’m excited to share it with you all! Oh and here’s a friendly reminder that Post Plus is bullshit and you will never, ever have to pay to read my writing. Writing is something I do for fun, and I post it on Tumblr because I want other people who love these characters as much as I do to be able to share that experience with me. Not to mention that I’m not looking to get sued by Nickelodeon.

The first time that Sokka noticed there was something wrong with Toph, she had been six months pregnant. 

The two of them were lounging around her living room, Sokka stretched out across the couch with his left arm dangling off the side and Toph relaxing in an oversized armchair, her swollen feet perched on the ottoman in front of her and one hand resting on her rounded stomach. It was an unusually hot summer’s day, and the two old friends had happily retreated into the sweet relief of Toph’s newly installed air conditioning.

“Sokka, do you think I’ll be an okay mother?”

Sokka was taken aback by his friend’s blunt question. 

“Well, just as long as you pay better attention to the kid than you did to Appa, I think you’ll be golden,” he joked, reflecting back briefly on the memory from their war days. 

The then-tiny girl had tried with all her might to prevent Wan Shi Tong’s library from collapsing under the weight of Sokka’s own impulsive curiosity, all while trying to rescue their beloved sky bison from his captors. He would never forget the look on her face after it happened, nor would he forget the months she spent perfecting her sandbending afterwards, determined that she would never make such a mistake again.

Perhaps that had been the wrong thing to say.

Toph’s eyebrows scrunched together in a look of concern as she rubbed absentminded circles on the curve of her stomach with a flat palm.

“Sokka, I’m serious. Do you think I’ll be an okay mother?,” she repeated, some anxiety creeping into her voice. 

“Well, yeah. Sure. Why wouldn’t you be?,” Sokka replied, although he couldn’t ignore the uncertainty in his own voice as he attempted to soothe his best friend’s anxieties surrounding the tiny life growing inside of her. 

Toph exhibited many admirable qualities, but she wasn’t exactly nurturing. He couldn’t help but recall all the plants she had failed to keep alive over the years, or the way Katara was constantly scolding her for swearing in front of Bumi and Kya, or the way she tensed up around babies, as if she were afraid she might break them. 

Toph sighed, blowing her sweaty bangs out of her face.

“I don’t know, I’m just… not great with babies. I never know what to do with them, y’know? They’re just so tiny, I always feel like I’m gonna break them in half or something equally barbaric.” 

“No, no, I’m sure you won’t-,” Sokka began to reply, but Toph had not yet finished lamenting.

“And most kids get to have their dad there, but, y’know, any hope this kid has of ever meeting that lousy excuse for a man is long gone,” she huffed angrily. 

“Daddy’s an asshole, isn’t he! Just a big ‘ole deadbeat loser!,” she said in a mocking babyish tone, giving her swollen belly a little pat.

Sokka rolled his eyes at his friend’s dramatics, but he couldn’t help agreeing. 

The guy’s name was Kanto. He had been a bartender at one of Sokka and Toph’s mutual favourite dives, and an okay enough guy depending on who you asked, but as far as Sokka was concerned, he was the scum of Toph’s beloved earth. 

The two of them had been getting a drink together like they always did on Friday nights, when Toph had caught the bartender’s eye. And honestly, Sokka couldn’t blame him. He certainly couldn’t deny that she was no longer the grubby twelve year old he had met all those years ago. He wasn’t going to pretend like he didn’t notice the curve of her hips or the way her tank top rode up her waist exposing a sliver of stomach. And he couldn’t ignore the way that other men checked her out nor how weird he felt about it when they did. Kanto had been one of those men. After a round of free drinks and a disgusting amount of quite frankly obnoxious eyebrow waggling, Kanto had somehow convinced Toph to come home with him, much to Sokka’s disdain. The rest was history. 

The two of them had been an item for a couple of months. Toph claimed that she was happy with him, but Sokka didn’t need his friend’s talents as a human polygraph machine to figure out that she was lying. 

He wasn’t all bad, he really wasn’t. He never laid a hand on her or anything like that. But Sokka couldn’t help noticing the subtle comments he made about her weight or her outfit or how she spoke just a little louder than he thought a woman should, nor could he miss all the changes she made to her beautiful, wonderful, perfect self just to fit his mold. 

Sokka hated that Toph’s signature confidence could crumble so easily under the will of a man like that. It made his blood boil. 

Toph began to fall apart when he finally left. Then when she found out that she was pregnant, she broke, and Sokka had been there to help pick up the pieces. 

So yeah, not exactly Sokka’s favourite guy. 

“You know you don’t need him, right?” He assured her.

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” she replied, brushing him off with a faint smile that she didn’t quite put her heart into. 

Picking up on his friend’s feeble attempt to mask her obvious worry, Sokka got up from the couch and walked over to where Toph was sitting. He placed one hand firmly in hers and the other gingerly on her stomach.

“Toph, you’re the strongest person I know. Believe me when I say that if anybody can do this on their own, you can. But you won’t have to do it alone, because I’m going to be here for you every step of the way. Do you understand me?” He assured her. 

She nodded in reply. 

“Yeah, I understand. And thank you.”

But he could tell she didn’t really believe it. 

____________

The second time that Sokka noticed something was wrong with Toph had been two weeks after Lin’s birth. Four old friends had gathered on Air Temple Island for a belated celebration of the new mother and child. Aang had cooked noodles, one of Toph’s favourites, but Sokka couldn’t help noticing that the latter had hardly touched hers.

“What’s wrong, Toph? Normally you gobble this stuff up in under five minutes,” Aang asked, voicing Sokka’s thoughts exactly.

The earthbender continued to absentmindedly twirl a piece of noodle around her chopstick, never bringing it to her mouth. 

“I’m fine. Just not that hungry,” she assured them. 

Sokka caught Aang’s eye and they shared a skeptical look. Katara looked at Toph with concern and a vague familiarity, as if something had suddenly dawned on her.

“You know, if something’s bothering you, you can always talk to us about it, right? I know that this is a new experience for you, and I understand if you’re feeling a little lost-,” Katara started, but was cut off by her friend’s inevitable defensive reaction. 

“Oh, so you think this has to do with Lin? You think there’s something wrong with me? You think I’m not fit to be a mother? Well guess what? Lin and I are doing just fine on our own!,” Toph yelled in response to her friend’s gentle attempt to help her. 

“Toph, I don’t think that’s what she meant. What she was trying to say is that being a new parent is stressful enough as it is, and I can’t imagine having to do it alone. We’re here for you if you need our help or advice,” Aang tried to reason with his angry friend, but to no avail. 

“You know what, Aang? You can take your ‘advice’ and shove it up your ass. I don’t need your help, I don’t need anybody’s help. I’m a great mother!,” she shot back in response. 

Sokka sighed. There was no reasoning with Toph when she got like this. Her fits of defensiveness and anger usually masked deeper fears and insecurities that could be difficult, nearing impossible to coax out of her at first. It was usually best to give her time to herself to blow off some steam, and only then could she be convinced to admit the truth about what was bothering her. 

“I’m gonna go take a nap. That is, unless Sokka here has some unsolicited advice for me too,” she voiced in a warning tone implying that if Sokka did happen to have any comments to make, he better keep his mouth shut about them. 

Sokka threw up his hands defensively. 

“No, no, by all means, go take a nap.”

“Great, at least one of my friends doesn’t fancy himself a shrink.”

Toph stormed off in a huff to the guest bedroom, and although her fit of anger concerned him, Sokka was glad to see her getting some much-needed rest. The dark circles under her clouded eyes implying sleepless nights as of late hadn’t escaped him. 

“What was that all about?,” Aang wondered aloud. “I’ve never seen her get that angry over nothing. We were just asking if she was okay.”

“I dunno. She hasn’t really been herself recently, has she?,” Sokka replied. 

“I mean, she called me Aang. Just Aang. She only does that when she’s really upset.”

“Well, it is your name,” Sokka reminded him, although he too couldn’t help noting with concern that Toph had neglected to make use of her favourite choice nickname for their airbending friend. 

“You know, right after I had Bumi I didn’t feel like myself either,” Katara shared. “It was like, before that moment, all I had to take care of was me. But then all of a sudden there was this tiny little human being who relied on me to survive, and I wasn’t sure if I could do it. I felt like my heart was walking around outside my body, and if I made even the slightest mistake I would destroy it forever. I doubted myself a lot. Everything was just so new and overwhelming, and some days I didn’t even want to get out of bed.” 

“So you’re saying that you’re pretty sure that’s how Toph feels about Lin?,” Sokka asked tentatively as realization dawned on him. 

Katara nodded. 

“I do. Sokka, I think you should be the one to talk to her. She always listens to you. I’m not sure how you do it,” Katara remarked. 

Sokka couldn’t deny the truth of the statement. In their twenty years of friendship, he and Toph had sought comfort in each other’s presence countless times. They had a mutual understanding that the other members of their group had often tried to imitate but could never quite replicate. Sokka went to Toph, and Toph went to Sokka. It was an unspoken agreement. 

“Don’t worry, I will. I just think we should give her a little time to cool down first.”

“Good idea. You don’t want her to bite your head off,” Aang chimed in with a laugh. 

____________

About an hour later, Sokka made the journey down the hallway to the guest bedroom to check on Toph and hopefully coax her out of her mood. He opened up the door to find the room dark and Toph laying on her side on the bed. She was trying to feign sleep, but Sokka could tell she was wide awake. Baby Lin was in her crib whimpering, supposedly for her mother. Sokka picked her up in his arms and rocked her back and forth, cooing softly. 

“Here we go, Linny. It’s okay, Uncle Sokka is here.”

The child began to cry. She didn’t want her uncle, she wanted her mom. 

“No, no Linny, don’t cry. Shhhh, Mama’s right here, see?”

Sokka carried Lin over to the bed where Toph was lying and tried to shake her awake, but was met with Toph’s hand slapping him away and an irritated growl.

“Go away, Sokka.”

“Toph, I just wanna talk,” he tried.

“Don’t you understand the meaning of ‘go away,’ dumbass?” She snarked.

“You’re really going to swear in front of the baby?”

“Great. Now you think I’m a terrible mother too. It’s fine, join the party,” she said in a sarcastic, vaguely accusatory tone, followed by her best attempt at rolling her sightless eyes. 

“Toph, nobody is calling you a bad mother. We know you’re perfectly capable of raising Lin on your own. All we’re asking is that you let us help you. You’re not invincible, Toph, despite what you may have led yourself to believe.”

Toph paused, letting Sokka’s comment sink in. 

“I- I’m sorry,” she began. “I know I was being kind of a bitc- a jerk back there. And I know you don’t actually believe I’m a bad mother but, but I’m not sure if I believe it. I’m so scared, Sokka. I don’t think I can actually do this alone. I- I know I said I could, but- but I think I was just lying to you, and to myself,” she choked out as tears began to cascade down her face. 

Sokka raised his eyebrows in alarm at his toughest friend’s unexpected breakdown. He pulled her close to his chest and began to rub her back.

“No, no, Toph, don’t think that. You can do it, you can. But you don’t have to, because we’re going to be here for you every step of the way. I’m going to be here for you every step of the way. You don’t have to do this alone, you hear me?”

“Yeah- yeah I do. I do hear you,” she replied with newfound confidence, wiping her tears on his shirt. “And- and you know I’m blind, right? Not deaf. Of course I hear you,” she joked with a familiar smirk.

Sokka chuckled, glad to see that he finally had his best friend back. He pulled her closer to his chest and just sat there for a minute, planting a kiss on the top of her head and burying his face in her hair. Their moment of peaceful rest was broken by Lin’s frantic crying.

“It’s alright baby girl, it’s alright. Mama’s here,” Toph assured Lin as she picked her up and cradled her in her arms. As she carried her sleepy child back to her crib for some much-needed rest, whispering to her in soothing tones the entire time, Sokka couldn’t help noticing how at home she looked all of a sudden. How safe and comfortable she was with her baby in her arms.

She was going to be just fine. 

[introvert--weeb]

Hi, fellow matchup blog here as well. Could I persay get an Obey Me matchup?

More information can be found on my navigation post [ about me ]

Fem Aries / pansexual (they/she) / ENTJ-A 8w9

I’m known to be either very smiley and optimistically loud or very serious/demanding, quiet, and passive/realistic.

I get angered/irritated very easily but I’m quick to get over it. I don’t hold grudges given I don’t really see the need to , but also I forgive people very easily.

I’m the type of person that just doesn’t care what people think about me. People say I come off as arrogant or selfish. Arrogant yes but I won’t really say I’m selfish. I like to do things that benefit me in a way, but also in a way that also benefits my surroundings.

I like to lead and be in charge of things. Im a quick thinker and like to get things done right then and there. Im very blunt and brutally honest in my leadership/also in general and because of that people may call me an ass or an insensitive beatch. However I’ve learned and tried to compromise with others to get what they also want. Besides that I’m a very energetic person who tries to see the good in others and tries to come off as my best self to ones I don’t know.

However get to know me and I’m actually just a chaotic being. I’d like to say I’m a pretty kind and open minded person who’s fairly goal oriented. I have a problem with not living in the moment and would rather constantly plan things out. I adore (deep) cleaning and will do so whenever I want to, feel the need to, or when I’m pissed off. When I’m alone I prefer to be left alone and I’m very quiet whereas in public I’m very extroverted and energetic.

I play violin/piano. I sing anywhere and anytime. I always find myself humming or singing something.

I tend to like people romantically or even just as friends/people who are much more smarter than I am. And very affectionate through words or not. And people who know how to live in the moment unlike me who’s always future oriented. I like to give people things as an act of love.

Apologies for the long request. Do take your time.

Hello! Of course you can! You sound amazing, I'm not gonna lie ❤️ @vbee-miya

--

I can see you suiting...

Lucifer ❤️

You both would be the power couple of Devildom.

Your personalities and ideals are similar enough where he doesn't get easily irritated with you being around. With you around, he would learn to not keep as many grudges (especially against Mammon and his spending habits) and calm down every now and then.

The main issue in your relationship would be that you both like to be in charge and will make it so things go your way. If you both want different things then expect to try and convince him to compromise with you. However, because he loved you, you would have an easier time doing this than his brothers.

You would help Lucifer when it came to building the relationships he had with his younger brothers. This was because you would both learn how to make better compromises with the others so that everyone was happy with the choice. This was definitely difficult for Lucifer but with you by his side, he was getting better at it. Although he would only do this every now and again so that no-one would try and take advantage of this kinder side. He was still the eldest brother and Avatar of Pride after all.

When it came to the rest of the brothers, you would be close with them all with a preference towards Satan and Mammon.

Satan was because he reminded you of your boyfriend (although you would never admit this to him) and he would tell you about all the new things he had read about. You would settle down in his room with a cup of your favourite hot beverage while the conversation would consist of any topic that had caught his and your attention recently.

Mammon was simply because he was chaotic and you felt you needed that energy in your life sometimes. When you hang out, your energies would match up and you would both try and find something fun to do. This was usually going out shopping so Mammon could buy all the things he saw while you would be trailing behind him, resisting the urge to lecture him about how irresponsible he was being. Although, you did love that he lived entirely within the moment, no thoughts on the consequences for his spending until it came down to facing them. Sometimes you wished you could be just like him.

Dates could happen at any moment with the two of you, but extravagant dates are often left until the end of each month. Smaller dates would usually be held within Lucifer's study or the music room he loved so much. Once he had found out you could play the piano as well as sing, you can bet your ass that he would constantly ask you to entertain him with a song. As you played, he would be sat comfortably in his chair, eyes closed and a glass of wine in hand. Lucifer adored this side of you and made sure you knew just how much he did. Compliments were showered over you, which is surprising since he was known to very rarely say anything nice to anyone else. Pride was definitely thrown out the window around you though (not entirely but he sure wasn't how he usually is).

Lucifer understood the importance of alone time and so would make it a point to allow you both time to yourselves. You appreciated it more than he probably knew. Although he loved you with his entire being, being around you 100% of the time would have caused arguments and resentments. After all, having your own life away from each other was an important aspect of any relationship to prevent co-dependency.

Cleaning day was every Sunday in the House of Lamentation. Lucifer would make sure Mammon and Belphie didn't try to get you to clean their rooms so they could goof off or sleep. Even though he knew you loved deep cleaning, there was only so much you could do and he didn't want you to get worn out. Might even buy you specific things you wanted to get a better cleaning experience. He would find it hard to say no when you begged to clean his study because it was becoming cluttered. He appreciates how clean you are, even trying to get on your level but it's just too difficult when he has Diavolo to deal with.

In public, the most affection you would get is him holding your hand or placing a quick kiss to the top of your head. When you both are in the comfort of his study or room, this demon gets SUPER affectionate. Might even be a little touch starved so he would enjoy cuddles and other softer expressions of your love. Definitely would place you on his lap while he completes paperwork, his spare hand rubbing circles into your palm. Anything to just have you touching him.

He keeps everything you give him in a special drawer at his desk. Cards you had given him for his birthday or valentine's day, little love notes, dried up flowers, this drawer had them all. Secretly will reread the love notes every night before going bed. He is secretly a softie when it comes to you.

[gossamer-sky]

Can I ask for B, C and D for Arthur, Isaac and Mozart pretty please? 🖤

Of course! 💖

Arthur

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

- The size difference between your hands and his always sends a little thrill through him

- Even just twining your fingers together will put a smile on his face

- Often brushes kisses over the back of your hand or your palm

- Looks down and smiles so so soft and gets a little red over it

- You die inside omg

- He can’t help it, he just loves you

- Also loves the way he can make you scream with just his fingers and there’s the Arthur we all know and love

- When you drag your nails down his back in the heat of the moment, it never fails to make him shudder and groan

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

- The man has no sense of propriety and will put his fingers to good use at the worst times

- Very often when you’re supposed to be working, or when you’re positive he didn’t lock the door behind him

- He doesn’t seem to care in the slightest though; will just give you an assured grin and slide his fingers under your waistband

- You’ll try hard to continue with...whatever you were doing before, but he’s a bastard and knows exactly where to touch you

- Rubs you from behind as you hang your head and moan

- When you come, he shoves his fingers inside to feel your body spasming

- After, he licks them clean and hums with satisfaction

- Winks before sauntering off

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

- Listen, he’s a lot of things but pure is not one of them

- You occupy all of his waking and sleeping thoughts and he strokes himself imagining what it would be like to touch you every night

- So he chooses an obvious spot to jerk off, knowing there’s a chance you’ll walk in on him

- He settles in, and then puts on a show

- Quickly gets riled up, heat rising rapidly as he imagines you

- He hears footsteps approach the open doorway and then just stop, the sweet scent of your blood confirming your identity

- His eyes are closed but he can feel you watching; the thought too overwhelming and all at once he comes

- Groan wrenched from his throat, louder than he intended

- Not loud enough to cover your answering moan though

- When he opens his eyes you’ve already rushed away to your bedroom, but he grins to himself anyway

Isaac

B = Body part

- The hollow under your ear is his favourite spot on you

- You sigh gently whenever he brushes his nose there, filling him with such adoration that he thinks his chest might burst

- It’s a lovely spot to hide his burning cheeks as well

- If he stays there for long enough, you’ll reach up to stoke his hair he could die a happy man right then

- He likes his hips, likes watching your fingers spread across his pelvic bones when you go down on him

- Or after sex, you tend to stroke that area and it makes him shiver

- (Deep down the real reason is because of how he makes you cry his name out when he pounds you the way you like, so loud that every resident of the mansion hears it)

C = Cum

- Holy shit he gets so shy about this

- Eyes fly open wide when he sees his come on you for the first time

- When he eats you out, his face glistens; he loves it but is dying inside oh my god he’s so flushed

- If you really want to make his head explode, lick along his jaw when your slick is still all over his face

- Then give him a dirty kiss

- “I want to taste myself in your mouth”

- Wowowow he maybe nearly comes in his pants over that

D = Dirty secret

- Obsessed with coming inside you

- Like, more than is actually appropriate and he’s so embarrassed by it

- Unfortunately for him, you’re both mid-fuck when this secret makes itself known

- Your head is thrown back, chest heaving and his heart is already in his throat watching you bounce on him

- You gasp out, “I can’t wait to feel you dripping out of me, Isaac”

- Oh shit

- He’s gone

- Literally instantly comes, and you’re a little shocked at first?

- His face flares so red that you’re actually worried for a moment

- Buries his face in his hands and won’t come out until you convince him that you like it too, you wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t want it

- Then you grind against him until he’s ready to go again

- You drag his hand down so he can feel his come sliding down your thighs

- Proceeds to add more to the mess

Mozart

B = Body part

- He likes and dislikes his eyes

- Thinks they give him an ethereal glow

- He doesn’t love that they’re so emotive, but he’s trained himself quite well; he’s very sure that he only gives off a frightening aura now

- He’s lying to himself

- You like his eyes too, because of how they show his feelings

- It’s difficult to suss out at first, but once you learn to translate his sharp words with the truth his eyes project

- Then it quickly becomes your favourite thing to tease him and watch how the windows to his soul betray his mouth

- You fuck with intense eye contact, and can tell he’s going to fall apart before he actually does just from the look in those violet depths

C = Cum

- Is in near constant disbelief at how eagerly you drink him down

- Did not expect that

- Is so shocked the first time you do it that he just watches you for long moments in absolute astonishment

- Before reaching down to press his thumb on your lower lip

- He opens his mouth but nothing comes out, and it takes a few minutes longer for his tongue to start forming piercing words

- You simply smirk; knowing you’ve shocked him and relishing in it, blurting out

- “Yum”

- He actually blushes damn it

D = Dirty secret

- Yes, he has jerked off at the piano

- No, he will not ever talk about it

- He was maybe a lot a little drunk

- And riding the high of finishing a work that he actually felt proud of

- It’s ridiculous but the keys were so smooth under his fingertips and before he knew it he was reaching down

- It’s over fast, in an unsteady blur

- He comes on the floor between his shoes, panting like he’s run a marathon

- Cheek pressed to the cool ivory

- He’s fucking mortified about it tbh, but it was so good

ABC list/rules here

Already requested character/letters here

Request here

[hypermanga]

Stuck in the middle (Thorin x reader; Thranduil x reader)

Requested by: @queenofmankind​

Request: Hi can I request an imagine where the reader is a fem elf who’s travelling with the dwarves company and Thorin feels the tug that tells him you’re his One although he never admit it, just to discover later on that you’re Thranduil’s lover when the Company arrived in Mirkwood.

Word count: 1456

A/N: Because today it is Richard Armitage’s - the actor who played Thorin - birthday , I decided to give this fic a happy ending for our favourite dwarf king 

~~~~~~~

Gandalf had asked you to join the Company of Thorin Oakenshield after you told him you wanted to leave any commodities behind and help more people in Middle Earth. Thanks to your long life span, you had seen the rise and fall of many empires, cities and kingdoms as well as many of  Middle Earth's secrets that only someone like you had the time to unveil. 

Convincing the Company of your use in the quest had been difficult to say the least mostly because of your race and the circumstances, given that you joined them in Rivendell.

"A woman in our quest? And a she-elf to say the least?" Gloin had exclaimed, making everyone mumble and complain about it. It seemed everyone apart from Bilbo and Gandalf was not happy about your addition, which you didn't take as an offence: you knew how the Mirkwood elves had treated the dwarves of Erebor in their time of need; In their position, you would've been just as wary, that's why you challenged yourself to change their opinion about you.

"Mithrandir" you greeted him at one of Rivendell's balconies "(Y/N)" "It feels strange to help the Company" you watched how the dwarves had fun laughing at a member who had just broken a table he was sitting on "I know I ask a lot, given their opinion on elves. Specially Thorin's"

Ah yes, Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror. He hadn't been ecstatic with Gandalf's announcement, in fact, he had been quite vocal about his opposition to it "Why would I want an elf" his words had venom, especially at the mention of your race "Elves don't approve of our journey, and I wouldn't trust with my life those who have already abandoned my people once" His eyes had been on you all the time, anger and another emotion you couldn't have pinpointed. 

"I understand where he comes from, I only wish to prove him otherwise...That not all elves have the same mentality" "I wish you all the luck to you, he is a very prideful dwarf" Cups of wine clashed together as you enjoyed the Valley of Imladris' gentle breeze.

Disbelief, that's what Thorin had felt when his eyes landed on you and felt a familiar tug in his heart. For years, since he was a young dwarfling, he had dreamed of finding his One but after Smaug's attack, whatever hope he had faded, including the one of finding his one true love. Now, as he had you in front of him, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry: he had found you, yes, but you were from the same kin of those who didn't help his in their darkest hour.

~~~~

Your sword slashed the goblins with scary precision, one only elves could possess. Like a hurricane all fell around you, none coming near enough to inflict any kind of pain or become a menace "Thorin!" You saw a horde of those creatures approaching the Company's leader, who seemed too lost in fighting another group that he didn't notice them. As you made your way to him, you continued executing anyone who went toe to toe with your sword, your eyes trained in the dwarf king; Not even when you ducked or jumped did your eyes leave him. 

As you arrived at his position he turned around with wary eyes, which softened when he saw who you were, catching you off-guard "There are too many! Let's fight back to back!" As you said that, more goblins appeared, obliging Thorin to follow your strategy with a huff. 

His outside mannerisms and attitude, though, couldn't be far more different than how happy he felt that you were fighting together as one, like soulmates who knew exactly how the other fought.

~~~~

"Lady (Y/N)?" Everyone's eyes turned to you when Mirkwood's prince recognized your face "Hello Legolas" You faked a smile, not content at all with your kin's hostility "I demand you let us go" 

"That is not for me to decide, but Ada's" You could feel the hatred pouring from the Company's gazes, especially the Durin's folk, but decided to carry along with your plan, with all its consequences.

"I'm sure he will listen to what I have to say" You smiled, ignoring the guard who was checking you for any possible threats.

You were all guided to Mirkwood, where the Company was imprisoned while you were accompanied to the Throne Room "Ah, (Y/N)" The elf king smiled sweetly from his antler throne "Thranduil" "What can I do for you, Nin Meleth?" "You must set free the Company. Their intentions are nothing but noble, as well as their quest" "(Y/N)...You understand I can't let them go without a bargain right?" "If you were a good king who empathized more with the other kins perhaps" "Watch your tongue. While I hold you very dear in my heart I won't hesitate to raise my voice if necessary" "I understand, but-" 

Your conversation was cut short as the guards brought Thorin up. He looked dishevelled, a far cry from how you had met: his hair was covered in spider webs, and the ends of his coat soaked in dirty water and mud. And even like that, he still stood proud as the rightful King Under the Mountain, with qualities you'd to admit Thranduil didn't possess.

"(Y/N)" You nodded at Thorin, stopping yourself from siding with the dwarf king, scared of making the situation worse than what it was about to become.

The negotiations didn't go very far, as Thorin wasn't about to give Thranduil Erebor's gems in exchange for the other's help, not when he had deceived his people once 

"Imrid amrad ursul!" With those words, you knew Thorin had sealed his fate. for Thranduil was quick to dismiss him, but not before playing another card.

"(Y/N), you will stay here with me. This little adventure of yours ends here" "But-" "I will not repeat myself, dear" Thranduil beckoned you a second time, hand extended which you took with distaste "What?" "Has she not told you? My, my (Y/N), and here the dwarf thought he had any chance with you" Your brows shot up in surprise "My lord, what are you saying?" "I can't believe you have been so naïve my dear" Thranduil smiled, pleased that his pet name infuriated Thorin even more "He's obviously infatuated with you...May I adventure myself to think you are his One?" 

Thorin looked at the other king defiantly "You do not know anything about me!" "Oh but you know I do" He just smiled wickedly "Thorin, I didn't know..." "Don't make this any worse" Thorin's voice cracked, defeat etched in his features "I do not wish to do so! In fact, I want to make everything clear. Yes, I have been infatuated with Thranduil for centuries. He was a good elf, one that seemed to take over the world and protect it from any danger" You turned your head to Thranduil "But not anymore" At that, Thorin's eyes widened, as well as Thranduil's "I'm sorry, but you are nothing but a shadow of what you were: you let the forest fall ill, the darkness has possessed it with the spiders. You didn't take part in defending another kin's kingdom you were allied to, and now that you could make amends you decide to be egotistical!" Thranduil's face was like an open book: he felt betrayed, hurt that you decided to side with the dwarves instead of your lover "I'm sorry, but this ends here" You freed yourself from Thranduil's weak grasp and descended the throne's stairs "Is that quest more important than me?" "Yes, it is the right thing to do, but you can't seem to figure it out"

Next thing you knew, the guards were dragging you to the dungeons alongside Thorin, who thrashed around to free himself before being thrown in a cell "You have been blinded (Y/N). Trust me, this will be for the better" Those were the last words you heard from Thranduil before the cell's door closed. 

"(Y/N)?" Balin exclaimed, upon seeing you "What are you doing here?" "Thranduil and I didn't see eye to eye on some matters. I thought I could put some sense in him, but he's not the man I fell in love with a long time ago. I'm sorry I couldn't be more useful"

It seemed like some members of the Company wanted to talk to you regarding the "Thranduil's lover part", but Thorin quickly shushed them, not wishing to put you even more down "I'm sure everything will be alright" "How?" "We still have a chance"

A chance that would present itself in the form of a very witty hobbit called Bilbo.

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

[imagine-loki]

Blushing in His Colours, Chapter 15

TITLE: Blushing in His Colours CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 15 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki being a Daddy Dom, his adores and loves his little, worships the ground she walks on. She has vaginismus, but he couldn’t be more supportive with her. RATING: M

Mia was a bit disappointed with how slow it was going to take, making progress with the dilators. It had been two weeks and she had been using the smallest one daily, but it was still a struggle getting it in initially. Though she did feel there was a little less resistance than at first.

Loki kept telling her it would take time, there was no rush. And she knew he was right, but at the same time she still wanted to be able to have sex with him properly, sooner rather than later.

He knew that she was eager to get going with it. So he wasn’t overly surprised when he teleported into her room one afternoon and found her lying on her bed with a pillow under her hips, trying to get the next size inside her. But she was clearly frustrated and had tears in her eyes.

‘Mia, what are you doing?’ He asked, making her jump as she hadn’t noticed him appear. She dropped the dilator in surprise.

‘I… I was trying to get the next one in.’ She said shyly, sitting up and closing her legs.

‘Oh sweetling. What did I tell you about trying the next size? Hmm? You’re not ready yet.’ He sat down on the edge of the bed and took the dilator away, cleaning it from lube with his Seidr and having it go back into the box.

She curled herself up a bit and looked at him sheepishly.

‘I know… But the dildo I’ve used before is that size and I’ve been able to get it in before.’ She whined.

‘How many times?’

‘Twice, I think.’

‘And you told me that last time you used it, it took a long time and it wasn’t comfortable, that you then panicked as it hurt pulling it out. Correct?’ Loki said knowingly.

She nodded, looking down. He reached over and cupped her chin, raising her head up so she had to look at him. ‘Dependant on your cycle, sometimes you will be more relaxed and easier aroused than other times. But you need to just take it as slow as your body needs you to. If you force it, you are only going to hurt yourself.’

‘I know, I know.’ She sighed.

‘Come here.’ He motioned her to him with his head and opened up his arms to her.

She crawled over to him and onto his lap, he wrapped his arms around her as she snuggled against her Daddy. He placed his chin atop of her head and slipped his hand under her top, stroking her back softly.

‘Promise me you won’t try the larger one again without me?’

‘I promise.’ She nodded, clinging to his shirt.

‘Good girl.’ He purred, smiling when he felt her squirm a little at his praise.

-

The team, including Mia, were all relaxing outside on a sunny afternoon. They didn’t have any work to do, so were having a well-deserved day off.

Mia was lying with her head on Loki’s lap, while he was leaning back against a tree, just gently playing with her hair.

‘Is there anything you’d like to do later, sweetling?’ Loki asked quietly, so just Mia would hear. The others were sunbathing not too far from them, but just out of earshot.

Mia smiled and looked up at Loki. ‘Could we go bowling?’ She asked, hopeful.

‘Did someone say bowling?’ Clint said, his head shooting up.

‘Bowling?’ Tony asked, pulling down his sunglasses.

Loki rolled his eyes and face-palmed. ‘I was asking Mia what she wanted to do later, not you lot.’ He grumbled as he draped his arm back down over her chest.

Mia giggled and held onto his arm. ‘Why don’t we all go?’ She suggested.

The team were all keen for it. Loki had hoped to just be alone with Mia, he preferred it when it was just the two of them. But he couldn’t resist her pleading eyes.

Loki was rather impressed with her bowling skills. He wasn’t sure why he never expected her to be so good at it, she was completely thrashing the team. On par with Clint, who was usually the best, was struggling to remain at a tie with her.

Thor had the strength and force to often get strikes if he aimed right, but he was rubbish when it came to just having a few pins left.

Loki was pretty good, almost on par with Clint and Mia. He was able to get the more difficult half strikes compared to the others. Mia wasn’t totally convinced that he wasn’t cheating and using his Seidr, though.

‘Are you using magic?’ She whispered to him when he was catching up on her and Clint on the leader board.

He chuckled and slid his arm around her as she perched on his knee, waiting for her next turn.

‘Me? Cheating? Never!’ He said in mock shock as he squeezed her side playfully, making her giggle. ‘Watch this.’ He whispered into her ear.

She looked over to the team’s lane as he deliberately caused the ball that Tony was about to roll to go flying into the next lane. Mia hid her face into Loki’s neck as she laughed.

The team ripped the piss out of Tony for that shot. He was completely baffled at how he did that. Luckily for Loki, he didn’t see him or Mia sniggering together at the back.

After Clint won the game, only just with Mia coming a close second and Loki third, though he kept saying he allowed her to win, the team grabbed a burger and then went for a few drinks at their favourite pub.

Loki was quite intrigued to see a drunk Mia again. And she didn’t disappoint.

By the time they called it a night, she was dancing and singing drunkly with Natasha and Wanda as they headed up the street towards the taxi rank. The three of them led the way with their arms over one another, staggering about slightly.

Steve had Clint over his shoulder, as Clint had way too much. Thor was joyfully drunk and so was Tony. Loki was drunk too, but not as bad as Clint and the girls. It was Steve, Bruce and Vision who were the adults of the group.

After bundling into a few taxi’s, they all made it back to the compound. Loki and Mia made their way to Loki’s room, but Mia was in a playful mood. She was running ahead of him, laughing as she kept hiding around corners from him.

He rushed after her and whenever he almost had her, she would sprint off again giggling.

‘Come here, you little minx.’ He growled and gave chase again.

Mia looked over her shoulder and squealed when she saw Loki chasing her, hot on her tail. She skidded to a stop right outside his door, she bolted inside when she found it was unlocked and he went charging in after her. She made a dive for his bed and rolled over on it, Loki pounced on top of her and trapped her beneath him.

‘The hunter has captured his prey.’ He growled and leaned down to suck and nibble on her neck, making her laugh and squeal in delight as he slid his hands under her top and started tickling her.

She managed to wriggle downwards and half out from under him, she hooked her legs over his thigh and tried to roll over, attempting to wrestle him. He allowed her to think she was winning for a second, getting him down on his side. But then he got her wrists behind her back and held them in place with one large hand as he flipped her over, so once again she was the one underneath him.

‘You like it when I overpower you, don’t you, sweetling.’ He purred, kissing along her jawline.

She whimpered and quickly nodded. ‘I love how strong you are, Daddy.’ She said as she bit her lower lip, looking at him so innocently.

Loki chuckled and slid his free hand up her chest and he lightly stroked across her neck, then wrapped his hand around her. But didn’t put any pressure on. He was delighted when she tilted her head further back in submission for him, ashamedly, he almost came at the act.

‘Are you going to tie me up?’ She whispered, heart racing at the thought.

He chuckled and nuzzled her nose with his own. ‘Not tonight, my little sweetling. I am rather intoxicated myself.’

That was a rule Loki had added, he would never tie her up when either of them were drunk. She understood why, but right now she so horny and desperately wanted him to lose control with her.

Letting go of her wrists, he cupped her face in both hands and kissed her hungrily, their tongues delved together and made them both moan. But Mia suddenly needed the toilet.

‘Stop! I need to wee! Too much alcohol!’ She whined and started struggling to get out from under him.

Loki fell to the side, laughing. ‘Very sexy, sweetheart.’ He winked at her, letting her go.

‘Sorry, sorry, sorry!’ She chanted as she got off the bed and rushed to the bathroom.

He had almost passed out when she came back, but soon woke when a naked Mia jumped on top of him, resting her head on his chest. She had undressed and dumped her clothes in the bathroom so she was more comfortable.

Grinning, he wrapped his arms around her and sighed in contentment as she quickly fell asleep on top of him, feeling her soft skin under his fingers as he stroked up and down her back for a moment. But he was then quick to follow her to the land of nod.

[doctorreids]

folklore - spencer reid x reader

CHAPTER FOUR - exile 

previous chapter | next chapter 

word count: 2.3k

a/n: so i thoroughly enjoyed writing this chapter so i hope you all enjoy! i’m the slightest bit worried that spencer is ooc but i’ll let myself lose sleep over that at some point. the donny hathaway song i’m referring to is this one - one of my favourite songs ever, so so so beautiful. reblogs, likes and comments are, as always very much appreciated - thank you for all the love so far x

“i can see you standin’ honey, with his arms around your body, laughin’ but the jokes not funny at all.”

It had been 3 months, 2 weeks, 3 days. He wishes he could recall the exact time but, for once in his life, he can’t.

There was life before Y/N and there was life with her, he never imagined that there would be a life without her; because if this is life…

The curse of having an eidetic memory is recalling every word, every glance, every silence, and every mistake. They filled his head every day, cacophonous and relentless.

He knows that 50% of couples break up then reconcile, he knows that this is more typical for unmarried couples to do. Yet, statistics do nothing to calm his frustration at himself. Statistics don’t tell him what he can do to fix what is broken.

There’s so much that he misses; her jumping at any chance to be with him, accompanying him to foreign film festivals, conventions, and anything he showed the slightest interest in. She would do anything for him, long before he ever called her his.

He’s still processing the depth of his loss. He had convinced himself for the first month that he could carry on and ignore the chilling cold of his bed at night or the loneliness of the subway journey home. By the second month, he could hardly look at himself. Now, three months on, the pain is so visceral, so real, that he cannot escape the crushing silence that surrounds him. No more quiet conversations on the jet, or laughter in the bullpen.

He wonders if her apartment feels just as empty as his.

He can’t help but let his mind wander to the conversation he overheard between Emily and Y/N in the bullpen - something about setting her up with a guy she knew from outside of work. He tried hard not to read into how reluctant she was accepting Emily’s offer or how defensive she looked when he went back to his desk.

What did he miss? Were there signs? Or did he, like he always did ignore the cracks as soon as they started to appear?

He didn’t want to think about someone else holding her, making her laugh, or being the reason for her smile.

It was dark outside, leaves littering the street, the rain pattering on his window. The sound of the occasional car passing by was the only sound that filled his apartment. Autumn was always his favourite season, it reminded him of change and growth, and when he first met her. It was cool that day, she was wrapped up in a royal blue knitted scarf and a soft brown worn coat - he swore to himself that he’d never seen anyone as beautiful before in his life.

He could barely focus on anything nowadays, from paperwork to books, everything was too difficult to confront. Sure, he’d been attending meetings, discussing his urges to numb himself from the world again. The beginning of his battle with addiction came before she did, it haunted him.

If he was being honest with himself, his addiction was the only thing he had fully confided in her.  She gave him all the understanding that, at times, his own chosen family didn’t give him. He didn’t resent them for it but it was frustrating.

He knew he immersed himself in work too often, the sea of paperwork and cases kept his head above the water that threatened to drown him. After all his years working for the BAU, he still didn’t know how to properly talk about what they witnessed. He tried to chalk it up to facts and probabilities, that evil exists in the world and all he can do is use what he knows to prevent it from happening again. But he couldn’t stop it from happening in the first place.

Despite how much responsibility he placed on his shoulders with his work, he questioned whether or not his career was what he really wanted. He’d promised he would find a cure for schizophrenia by the time he was thirty. Yet, here he is - alone, many a Ph.D. to his name but no overwhelming achievement.

He knew his first mistake was not telling her about how he was feeling. But he was angry, he didn’t know how to verbalise what was overwhelming him. Frustrated and choked up, he pushed her away. He kept telling himself that he felt suffocated, he was anxious that he would lose her to his job and he couldn’t prevent that. There was so much in his life that he couldn’t control.

His mother wasn’t improving, getting worse day by day, and all he could do was stand by and watch. He could write as many letters, call every day, and visit as often as he could but he couldn’t fix it. He couldn’t change what was happening.

He was surrounded by people he considered to be his family yet he felt alone. All the time. So, he pulled up his guard, plastered a smile on his face, and carried on. She would always go before him in his life, nothing could change that.

Work had been…tense. He knew from the start that the girls would be protective of her and he didn’t blame them - he knew that very next day when she didn’t reply to his texts or calls or when JJ told him to ‘give her space. His only other option was Derek and his advice wasn’t, at times, what he wanted to hear.

Derek told him to fix it actively but he wasn’t even sure what he was trying to fix. Himself or their relationship? Some big romantic gesture would win her back, he was told, but he knew she hated those. He tried bringing her favourite flowers, roses, but he would freeze up every time he got to her front door. By now, it wasn’t the season for roses and he was running out of options.

JJ, Emily, and Garcia never treated him any differently, he just felt exiled from their bullpen meet-ups. From the start, all he wanted was JJ’s advice. That night they all went out, he sat in her house with Henry, listening to him babble on about Aunt Y/N and Uncle Spencer.

He won’t ever forget the sad look JJ gave him when he left, underlying anger and bitterness in her voice when she bid him goodnight.

He can’t help but think that he had irreparably messed up.

“all this time, we always walked a very thin line.”

They always said that working together was more of a blessing than a curse, they were never without the other. They could read each other like the back of each other’s hand. Until one day, they couldn’t.

He wasn’t sure what switch flipped in his mind but his ability to be vulnerable with her and to open up completely was turned off. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find the words to express what was going on in his mind.

Then again, neither could she. That connection between them was lost, there was this impenetrable distance between them now.

He couldn’t get comfortable in his chair, his glass of whiskey sitting beside his growing stack of books. He kept trying to find room for them but he just couldn’t bring himself to put them away - it reminded him of her apartment; books scattered on different tables, never on the shelf. It was the only trace of her left in his apartment.

His pillow no longer smelt of her, sweet and fresh. Her toothbrush was no longer sitting by his sink nor her shampoo in his shower. He’d taken down the photos, they were too painful to look at almost every day. Yet, he still kept that scarf she had left at his apartment after one of their dates, the royal blue one. Her perfume was fading on that too.

“you’re not my homeland anymore, so what am i defending?”

She had been quiet the entire car journey home, exhaustion clearly written on her face. Her brow was furrowed in thought.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asked softly.

A slight smile flickered across her face for a split second. It went as quickly as it came, she was angry.

“I just want to get us home in one piece, Spence,” she snapped, “can you let me do that?”

“Sure.”

She wasn’t just angry, she was pissed.

By the time they got back to his apartment, she was tired, cold, and frustrated with him. He was equally as tired but grateful to be with her, alive and well. His run-in with the unsub resulted in an overnight stay in the hospital and minor surgery. Well, he thought it was minor. She clearly didn’t.

She didn’t stop for tea the way they normally would nor did she bother to leave the light on for him in the bathroom. She just crawled into bed without a word spoken to him since they’d gotten back to his apartment. In all honesty, he thought she was just going to drop him off then go back to her own home. He was surprised that she didn’t.

Lifting the covers, he slid into bed as silently as he could as not to wake her.

“What you did was really stupid, you know that?”

She was awake. He should’ve guessed.

‘I know.”

She sighed, turning to face him, “Spencer, I know our jobs don’t exactly meet safety regulations but you can’t play the hero all the time. I had to tell myself a long time ago, that you can’t save everyone. I know you, Spence. You’re a good man, brave and you have more courage in you than literally every other man that I’ve ever met and I love you for it. But you can’t keep doing this to me, to us.”

“Doing what?”

“Scaring us all half to death. You don’t remember me holding your hand while we waited for the medics. You don’t remember Morgan telling me that you’d pull through. You didn’t get to see everyone’s faces in the waiting room. But I remember it all, I don’t think I’ll forget it.”

He was stunned into silence.

“I could only think of the worst. How was I going to be able to tell your mother? How was I supposed to carry on knowing,” her voice broke and his heart shattered, “that I would never get to hold you again, or hear one of your many facts, or be able to explain how much you mean to me.”

“But, you didn’t have to-“ he started.

“I know. You’re alive and I’m so grateful. But if you ever pull a stunt like that ever again…”

His smile was sad, “I won’t ever leave you. You’re my home. I’d do anything to keep you safe.”

“And you’re mine too.”

“i think i’ve seen this film before and i didn’t like the ending.”

The memory echoed in his mind. He thinks about what could have been, the family he pictured them having. He knew, even though it was unsaid, she wanted a little girl. He couldn’t lie and say that he wouldn’t want to see a miniature Y/N running around. He always wanted his own kids ever since Henry was born and something inside him changed when he saw you holding Henry for the first time.

He saw his future before him.

Or so he thought. His dream disappeared when he heard his front door slam that night. He would give anything to take that night back. Take back the things that were said, the things left unsaid, and go after her.

By now, he thought he was too late. He witnessed the most perfect, the most precious thing he had in his life play out like a Shakespearian tragedy on the big screen. His heartache played like a movie he had seen far too many times before.

Maybe they were doomed from the start, their ending determined by fate. Something he only ever believed in with her.

“You can’t save everyone.” He couldn’t even save himself. He thought he was kidding himself when he thought he could ever win her back, too much time had passed, too much distance.

There were oceans between them, and for too long he was too scared to start to cross the vast space.

He stared at his now empty whiskey glass and out onto the street - the rain was heavier now. He had no idea what time it was, it was late. He wonders if she’s still up. If she’s sitting in that chair by her window, like he is, thinking about him.

His whole body aches for her touch. He aches to tell her everything, to apologise and to tell her all the small little things that have happened since they last spoke. Like how that mug she used to always drink out of shattered when he was putting it back in the cupboard and how he cried because he couldn’t glue it back together. Or how he searched and searched for a new one but he couldn’t find it so he decided to not buy a new one, it couldn’t be replaced.

He would tell her that he listens to that Donny Hathaway song she used to always play in the car late at night. He’d like to think that she would be proud that he knows all the words - that he doesn’t just listen to Beethoven. Morgan told him to play a song over a boombox outside her window. He didn’t get the reference but he knew he would play that song.

He opened his wardrobe to pull out his pyjamas when it caught his eye. The scarf, a shimmer of glitter caught in the moonlight.

He knew what he had to do.

Grabbing his coat, keys, and the scarf, he opened his door and walked out into the night.

[gloomyhearts]

That's life || Steve Harrington

Chapter eight

November 10, 1983

Y/N's pov

"Dustin what's wrong?" He threw the door closed.

"Mike and Lucas fought and won't talk to each other" we sat on the sofa.

"and what happened?" I turned to face him.

"We searched after the gate."

"The new north?"

"Yeah and at some point Luke's compass showed another North than mine. Luke said that Eleven would manipulate them. Mike and him discussed over half an hour and then it escalated El threw Luke with his power against a car and Luke drove away. He never left us like that when he and Mike argued. I lost my party. I've got nothing left."

"You have me." I laughed to brighten him a bit up but it failed and he started to cry.

"Dusti, sweatheart everything will be fine. I know it. You all have this inseperable bond and no one will ever break it. You have to convince Mike to apoloize to Luke and then it'll be alrigth, trust me." he burried in my arms as we lay down on the sofa.

"I hope so. I can't loose another friends beside Will."

We lay in silence when our parents entered the room, yeah their travel week has end today.

I think by the time they entered Dustin was asleep. As my mother stood by the couch she mouthed 'is he?" and I only nodded. My dad came to us and carried Dustin in his arms to his room upstairs. Dustin is a deep sleeper in the second he fell asleep the world could end and he would'nt wake up. When my dad was out of the room my mom sat down next to me.

"So what happened?" I told my mother something on the phone but not everything, she shouldn't be involved too much.

"As I told you. Will went missing and a few days after he was found in the Lake. Two days ago we were on his funeral. Dustin is really damaged through this accident. He feels sorry that he couldn't protect Will. And today Luke and Mike argued and Dusti fears that his party is falling apart." she looked shocked at me after telling the events we went through the whole week alone.

"You don't have to worry mom. Dustin and I are fine. We have got each other and he knows I'm helping him with everything."

"I'm proud that you both love each other so much." she gave me a kiss on the forehead and left.

On the next day when I arrived at school there was this tension, I can't describe it but it was there. It was because of the funeral a few days ago but not that everyone was involved.

It was only the three of us, Nancy, Jonathan and me.

At lunch we sat in the nearst corner so nobody could eavesdrop our conversation.

"Ok so Nancy and I want to buy weapons and go for a hunt."

"This afternoon." Nancy adds after Jonathon doesn't seem to speak on.

"This afternoon? Why? I don't know if I can. I have to ask my mom. Maybe we could meet there or I'm coming where you're getting ready."

"Jonathan and I went to the forest behind Steve's house and there was something, we want to hunt." they both nodded as the school bell rang.

"See you later" we seperate and I went to my math class but have to stop at my locker before.

No one was in the hallway what was kind of creepy because otherwise it was full because students wanted to delay the break.

"Y/N." Someone touched my shoulder but I know exactly who it was.

"What?" I turned to face him.

"Why are Nanc and Jonathan hanging out so much lately?"

"I don't know. Ask her yourself I suggest"

"Do you know something? I saw them yesterday in Nanc' bedroom."

"Steve." I shut my locker and turn to him, "I really don't know even if I'd, I don't care about it."

"Why are you so harsh?"

"Why do you even care at all?"

"Because" he came closer and whispered, "I'm still caring about you. I still worry about you. I'm still your best friend"

He is what?! Where was he when I lost my grandmother, when Barb went missing?

"Ah no, Stephen. I don't believe you. You were my best friend yeah that's right but I wouldn't call you a friend anymore. So excuse me." I began to walk to my classroom and bumped intentionally his shoulder.

During my bike drive to the Byers house I listened to my favourite music on my Walkman including 'eye of the tiger' and 'under pressure'.

When I arrived at the location there were no one not even miss Byers.

Through the window I can see some Christmas lights hanging around in the living room and letters written on the wall.

Strange.

I took my bike and drove away.

When I drove by at the supermarket I saw Steve and his best friends standing around his car. Steve held a cola bottle to his eyes.

What happened there?

I didn't even notice that my feet were riding my bike to the entry of the market. As I arrived there Steven jumped up from his car and walked towards me.

"Y/N, hey there" he tried to hug me.

"What happened to your face" I pointed at his eye.

"Ah my friend Jonathan and I beat each other up. Nothing to worry about"

"someone has to nurse it." He approached to me.

"Maybe you could. I trust you" I just laughed. "Please it hurts really bad and my friend over there aren't a good help."

"Fine but only this time. We meet at my house, Harrington" he nodded and I began to ride home.

"What took you so long" he walked to the door.

"Thomas and I fought a bit but it's okay. He's an asshole"

oh really

"jup he is" I opened the door and we walked into the house. Mews came running to us and Steve cuddled her immediately.

"I missed her really bad" I just nodded and walked upstairs to my room.

"you coming?" I heard footsteps on the stairs and moments later Steve stand next to me.

"Sit down. Feel yourself home."

"I'm always feeling home when you're around." He held my wrist

"Steve please." The tension between us is thick you could cut it.

"I'm getting ice and some band aid." I walked to the bathroom and when I arrived in my room I saw that Steve was reading something.

Shit!

"What are you doing?" He frightened as he heard me.

"I was just" he laid the paper down. "I'm sorry" he sat down on my bed and put his hand next to him to show that I should sit next to him.

"What did you read?"

"Your homework?" I walked over to desk and picked the book which declares to be my diary.

What? He didn't. Wait.

"Did you read my diary"

"I'm so sorry Y/N. I didn't want to."

"You saw that it wasn't a normal book but you didn't stop. Steve I wanted to help you but now" I grow angry and couldn't held my anger back. "Steve you're an asshole I can't believe I was so naive to help you. Leave!" I shout at him but he didn't go.

He stood up and walked over to me.

"Y/N I'm so sorry I was and still am an asshole. I was so stupid to let you down. I'm so dumb. I can't believe I left you only to be popular, to become a completely asshole. I'm so sorry to hurt you. You were my best friend and I still hope we can be friends again." By now I started to cry and Steve embraced me.

"I read the letter you wrote and I'm so sorry. I always look at our pictures we made. I miss you everytime I see you in school I want to go to you and talk. Nancy often talks to me about you how you seem to be alone and cold towards her and Barbara and I think it's my fault. Its all my fault." I let out a sob.

"Y/N I was such a dumb boy" I heard Steve sobbing too.

"I can't believe you didn't want to say all the things to me. You know you can always tell me everything. Why didn't you told me that you love me?" I gathered my courage and spoke the first time in forever

"It's not that easy Steve."

"What?"

"First when I'm talking to you everyone would stare at us and call me a whore because I'm talking to a boy in a relationship. And second you wouldn't have cared about it. You would have left for Nancy anyways. You had liked her since ever."

"Ok wait. Nancy is hanging out with Jonathan lately I don't even think I'm her boyfriend anymore. And second because I loved you too but I was afraid to tell you"

"But you love Nancy right?"

"Yeah but it's difficult" by now I began to cry and he sat down on my bed next to me.

"I'm so sorry Steve. I couldn't handle it. And it's my fault I lost you. I wasn't enough for you."

"No.. no you were and you are still perfect" he gently put a strand of hair behind my ear. I looked down onto the floor but felt his graze on me.

"And why did you fought with Jon?"

"Tommy and Carol thought they would be funny if they would let Nancy be starring in the movie theater. They called Nancy a slut after I told them she was with Jonathan yesterday in her room. Jonathan backed up for her. He's at the police station."

"What the hell" I ran my finger through my y/hc hair.

"Nancy slapped me and then Jonathan came and threw his fist in my face and it escalated."

"You're an idiot Harrington." I rolled my eyes. Slowly it feels like it's going to be normal even after the talk before.

Don't let him in again.

"Steve you should go." He nodded and walked toward the door.

"See you in school Y/N" I only nodded as and he left.

Dearest Steve,

Thanks for the memories that you gave me over all those years. I really appreciate that we were friends until Tommy our biggest enemy brought us apart. I did everything for you even if it seemed impossible and crazy. I love you from the very first day and I always gonna love you.

Even if you'll never get this letter I want you to know that you're my everything, my life and my best friend.

I hate being apart from you and not talking to you kills me. Every time I see you and Nancy kissing it kills myself. I'm dead inside and you left. You gave me power to live to hold on but then you left. Puberty really changed you just as Tommy did.

I miss the time when we lay under the stars and talked about our wishes and dreams. My dream now is to go back; to have my Steve back. I had loved it when you were around and we acted like we don't care what others are thinking mostly when we did the weirdest things. I was proud that my best friend is a year over me at school and still likes to meet me.

But the horrible thing is that we see us at school and don't even look at each other. I miss your beautiful brown eyes which light up when you were laughing over my bad jokes. I miss your fluffy hair and your crazy secret behind it. I would love to go back but I can't and I know it. I know I treat you like shit but its just to protect myself not to be hurt again.

[possiamo-andare]

Invisible String: JJ Maybank

JJ x OC

MASTERLIST

word count: 9.9k

summary: based off the lyrics from Taylor Swift’s song “Invisible String”, this story follows an original character named Charlotte “Charlie” Summers, a hopeless romantic who unfortunately falls in love with JJ Maybank. At first, he wants nothing to do with her but after one night, he realizes that maybe he was wrong about love after all. 

a/n: I was writing this while I wasn’t feeling myself and because of that, it’s not like my usual stories. The ending is hopeful but open ended and it’s very angsty. I know some people don’t like Taylor Swift but this song off her new album is seriously so amazing. Try to be open minded while you listen to the album and I promise it won’t disappoint. have fun reading :)

~ 

Green was the color of the grass

Where I used to read at Centennial Park

I used to think I would meet somebody there

She had enjoyed sitting in parks and reading the Feminine Mystique while the only time he sat to read was when he was in school, if he ever showed. She was a hopeless romantic, pining and obsessing after every long haired, rebel without a cause she saw. There was a new boy every week. Not that she ever dated them. No, she only watched them from afar, wondering what shampoo they used or how their eyes would crinkle when they laughed. There was something beautifully innocent about these attractions and so, for a very long time, she just sat on the same park bench from afar and watched a number of beautiful people pass her; they were completely oblivious to the fact a girl was admiring them only a few feet away.

He was the polar opposite. It was not that he didn’t believe in love because he loved his friends but JJ never wanted anyone to love him. And, unlike many teenagers, he was okay with not being loved. Love was for the weak, for people who needed validation from others. He needed none of that. If a girl ever liked him, he would use and lose them quickly, making sure they hated him by the end of it. Love weakened him and he didn’t have the time to be weak when everyone around him expected him to be strong.

Teal was the color of your shirt

When you were sixteen at the yogurt shop

You used to work at to make a little money

She had asked him when they first met if he liked the colour teal. Random yes, but it wasn’t a meaningless question. Men associated teal with feminine activities, such as braiding hair and dressing dolls and any man who recoiled at that answer meant that they would not be compatible. When he didn’t recoil and instead vigorously nodded his head, she knew he was the one. JJ thought of how the waves felt between his fingers and his mother’s eyes when he thought of teal. Subsequently, the colour teal would rear its head in their relationship many times. For it was the colour of his favourite shirt and the colour of the ocean where they met.

His answer, although enthusiastic, was about the only interesting thing he thought she had said. When JJ first met her, there was no undeniable pull. Unlike her, he just saw a plain girl. Pretty, yes, but plain. She was the type of girl he could learn to love in time, but he was not interested in waiting a few months to feel something for her. Instead, he wanted carnal and immediate affection. He wanted to feel the pull instantly. Realistically, the relationship with instant attraction lasted only a few weeks until it wore off but JJ was not looking for a realistic love. Not at first anyways.

Time, curious time

Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs

Were there clues I didn’t see?

He wondered, later on, if his instant distaste for her was the reason the universe made them stumble in and out of each other’s lives for so long. He thought it was the universe trying to teach him a lesson. The lesson being a person that you think is insignificant, could actually turn out to be the most important person in your life.

They saw each other for the second time at his job. To try and get some extra money, JJ decided to get a job. Unfortunately the only job he seemed he could find was one at an ice cream parlor. It was embarrassing for him but he had to wear a teal shirt (his favourite colour), so he swallowed his pride and started at Figure 8’s only ice cream parlor. Unfortunately for him, JJ hated Kooks. This hate only grew when every customer he served was a Kook. They were all obnoxious and rude, two qualities he suspected they would have. But he bit his tongue and served even the people with the worst attitudes. Two weeks after she and JJ met at the beach, she entered the same ice cream parlor with her friends. Sarah Cameron, along with her boyfriend Topper and her brother Rafe, were all too preoccupied with their difficult decision on what to order to notice that their friend was acting oddly.

Oddly would be an understatement. She was mortified. Not only was her hair matted because she was surfing all day, but she was also wearing no makeup. These two things, along with the fact she was completely caught off guard that JJ was an employee at this parlor made her disastrously nervous. As they waited in line, she asked Sarah for her mirror.

“Mirror? Why the hell do you need a mirror?” Sarah questioned, a confused look written over her face. When her friends didn’t answer (or was too embarrassed to do so), she followed her eye line to the blonde boy who was scooping ice cream. “JJ? Really Charlie?”

Charlie frowned, her face hot. “He’s nice.” She said this so casually, it almost seemed as if she had known JJ her entire life.

But Sarah, although spending a limited amount of time with JJ, knew more about him than Charlie did. “No, he’s not.”

“Who’s nice?” Rafe butted in, only hearing Sarah’s last words to Charlie and trying to catch up on the conversation he missed.

“No one!” Charlie rushed, glancing at Sarah for her to play along.

The last thing Charlie wanted was for Rafe or Topper to know about her crush on JJ. Although she hung out with these boys, it was only to be polite. If Charlie had to choose, she would rather solely spend her time with Sarah. Although weary on why this already weird girl was acting even more so, Rafe was too tired to press for more and instead gave Charlie a puzzled look and turned back to face Topper, who was too busy deciding on what to order.

“Charlie’s gonna order for us.” Sarah announced, watching in amusement as her friend’s face contorted in fear.

“Hm?” Charlie gulped, glancing at the line that was coming dangerously close to JJ.

Sarah grinned. “We’ll pay for it as long as you order for us.” Sarah paused for a moment, a mischievous grin on her lips. “Or are you too scared?”

Charlie shook her head, indignant. “I am not.”

Sarah nudged Charlie forward, watching as the girl came face to face with JJ Maybank.

JJ was surprised to see her here. Of course, he knew he would have to see her eventually. He worked in the only ice cream parlor for miles and it was only a matter of time before the pretty girl with a name he did not remember finally stumbled across this parlor. As he watched her stumble over her words as she ordered, his heartbeat picked up speed. He swallowed harshly, wondering why a girl who only a few weeks ago he could care less about was now making him feel nervous.

“I’ll have t-two, um, rocky r-roads…” Charlie scrambled to remember the order her friends listed off to her, her mind running faster than her brain.

JJ nodded, looking up every so often to indirectly tell her he was listening. Her wet hair stuck to her cheeks, clearly drying in a matted way. He had a strong urge to reach out and push the hair behind her ears, something he never wanted to do before now. So what changed? JJ shook his head, trying to clear his mind as he wrote the order properly. Nothing changed, he convinced himself. He was only caught off guard by her presence.

“That’s it?” JJ calmly said, thanking an omniscient being that he had not acted as nervous as she was. He had a growing suspicion that this girl had a crush on him which only made him embarrassed since he didn’t want to believe he felt anything for her.

Y//N nodded, wanting to pinch herself just so she could calm down. “Yep.”

“Okay,” JJ ripped off the note from his pad and stuck it on the board where a bunch of his co-workers were ready to scoop. “Your order will be ready soon.”

Charlie nodded, forcing her head to move smoothly as to draw attention away from her shaky hands. “Thanks.”

Before she had time to move farther down the line, JJ spoke again. He wanted to put these feelings down to rest, proving to himself that he did not feel anything towards a girl he barely knew. “I think I’ve met you before. What’s your name?”

JJ knew this would hurt her feelings because they had met quite recently. Although it did hurt her feelings, she knew not to take it too personally because she was a girl hardly anyone noticed. “It’s Charlie.”

JJ nodded, smirking as he remembered the name. His heartbeat finally slowed down. Maybe he really felt nothing and it was only the embarrassment of seeing her again that made his heartbeat pick up. “I’m -”

“JJ. I know.” She interrupted him, watching as her friends slowly started to move farther down the line. Before she held up the line any more, she sweetly smiled at JJ and said, “I remember because you’re named after the producer of Lost.”

With that last comment, she walked farther down the line and closer to her friends. As Sarah asked her what happened and Charlie soaked up the embarrassment she felt, JJ wanted to laugh. She had just confirmed his suspicions; she had a crush on JJ. This did not seem to matter to JJ all that much since numerous girls in OBX had fallen victim to his blue eyes and cocky smirk. Although she wasn’t the first girl to ever have a crush on him, she was the first he could care less about. Usually he would use these infatuations to his advantage but this time he had no interest in Charlie. Although this was true, he was also bored out of his mind. He hadn’t been laid in a week or so and that was a long time when you were JJ Maybank. He knew how easy it would be to invite a girl that acted like that back to his home and, against his better judgement, he decided to do it.

This was mostly against his better judgement for two reasons. One, she was a Kook and JJ hated Kooks. He rarely slept with any of them, annoyed by their very presence. He usually went for Pogues or tourists, two kinds of girls he got along with better. Two, she seemed to have some type of infatuation with him which was dangerous territory. The girls that JJ slept with liked him, but it never went past the surface. Those girls didn’t give him the heart eyes she was giving him and that’s why he spent time with them. He knew it was cruel to sleep with a girl that felt so strongly towards him, especially when he felt nothing towards them, and that’s why he rarely slept with those types of girls. But he was willing to break that rule for some fun.

You might be thinking right about now that JJ Maybank is a miscreant and for that, you would be correct.

As he watched her pay for her order and get her ice cream, he seemed to be in a daze. As he watched her talk to her friends, her mind elsewhere, he thought of how he would ask her out and inevitably sleep with her. I’m warning you now, you won’t like JJ for most of this story. He’s greedy and selfish. Like a hurricane, he sweeps up whatever is around him and destroys it. And he has a fun time doing it.

Just as Charlie and her friends exited the parlor, his boss told him it was time for his break since he seemed ‘a little out of it.’ Without so much as a nod, JJ made his way past the line of customers, watching as Charlie closed the door behind her.

“Charlie!” JJ raised his voice, catching the girl’s attention.

“What does he want?” Rafe asked, stepping forward and trying to grab onto Charlie’s hand and pull her away from a Pogue he hated. Although Rafe would only admit it if there was a gun to his head, he had feelings for Charlie that he knew she would never reciprocate. Seeing JJ chase after her and seeing her stop, only added to his heartbreak.

“Let’s give them some privacy…” Sarah whispered as JJ approached them, confidently staring at Charlie who was averting her gaze. She was too embarrassed to watch JJ step closer and closer to her.

Just as Sarah pulled her boyfriend and brother away from Charlie, JJ finally stood in front of Charlie. He never asked girls out. It usually was implied that he wanted to spend time with them because if he didn’t, he would just avoid them like the plague.

He would admit to himself, as he approached Charlie, he felt guilty. She seemed like a sweet girl but should be with someone who could give her everything. That also begged the question in JJ’s mind; what did she want from him? She was a Kook after all and if she genuinely just liked him, that would be the first time a Kook was ever genuine about anything. Surprisingly, it made JJ feel better about using her if she was a Kook. He hated Kooks, especially Rafe, and sleeping with this Kook Princess was definitely going to piss off some Kooks.

“I have the first season on DVD at my house. Wanna come over some time and watch it?” JJ looked at his hand, watching as he loosened his grip on the ends of his teal shirt.

Charlie was surprised but did her best to hide it. She thought she was successful but JJ could see right through and it only added to his ego when he saw her bewilderment. Slowly but surely, Charlie finally answered with a nod. JJ nodded back, waiting for her to say something and when he realized she wouldn’t, he spoke again.

“What about tomorrow night?”

She only nodded again, her heart thumping in her chest. She was afraid JJ could hear the beat of her heart because it was so loud in her ears. Fortunately JJ did not and instead turned around and made his way back to the parlor. He felt a slight squeeze around his heart but ignored it, thinking it was because he had just asked a girl out and was feeling guilty about it. Charlie felt the same squeeze but did not dismiss it as JJ had. Instead, she saw it as an invisible string finally tying around her heart and connecting to JJ’s.

And isn’t it just so pretty to think

All along there was some

Invisible string

Tying you to me?

For her, that night couldn’t come fast enough. For JJ, he could care less. Not that he wasn’t excited to get laid but that seemed to be it for him. It was nothing more than a hookup and he promised he would explain that to her when she got to his house. Thankfully his father was gone for the weekend, leaving JJ to be at his house for as long as he wanted to.

As Charlie sat at Sarah’s vanity, letting her friend pluck her eyebrows and blend her makeup, JJ was sitting on his couch and watching tv. He was less than nervous. Yes, he was nervous when he first was speaking to her but her adorableness had caught him off guard. Now, he was ready for her. He would always be ready for her now.

As the time came closer and closer to their ‘date’, Sarah felt obligated to inform her friend on who she was about to go on a date with. She loved Charlie like a sister and wasn’t about to let a boy she knew to be a troublemaker and a womanizer destroy her friend’s perception of love. Her friend had never been in a  relationship and had a limited experience with boys which meant she didn’t understand how cruel some of them could be. To settle the arguments in her mind, she decided to just advise her friend to be careful. Although Charlie understood her friend’s apprehensiveness, she thought she understood JJ like the back of her hand. He had a tough exterior but on the inside, he was just as fragile as any other person. She was willing to meet the real JJ. Unfortunately, what she didn’t know yet was that her heart had to break first before she met the real JJ.

Although JJ had a number of girls come over at his house, he rarely asked them out days before. Usually they would come home with him the same night he met them. To say JJ was underprepared was an understatement. He only realized he had a date that night when she rang the doorbell. In a hurried mess, he threw on the cleanest shirt he had and rushed to open the door. Tripping only once, he successfully made it to the door. When he opened the door, all his worries melted away. And no, it was not because she was breathtaking but because he remembered it was only Charlie. Plain Charlie.

She was considerably more nervous than him, being as it was only her first date. But she took a deep breath and took everything one step at a time. She felt pretty, her hair done in a nice braid and wearing her favourite shorts, and pretended as if she was one of those girls who carried themselves as if they were an angel that graced everyone’s presence. She saw her walk as dainty but JJ barely noticed, distracted by her bare legs. They were virtually smooth (meaning she shaved) and tan.

“Where’s your tv?” Charlie asked, watching as JJ looked up from her legs and to her eyes.

JJ’s house, although not anything like hers, was cozy and she liked it. There were beer cans thrown everywhere and she knew JJ had made no effort to clean anything up but still, his house looked as if someone lived in it. Granted, it was a messy individual but nonetheless, it was a home. Her house was always too clean and looked deserted.

“In my room.” JJ stated, walking in front of her and opening the door to his room. He looked behind him, watching as she did not make any movement towards him. Just as he began to get confused he remembered that she was deathly awkward and might not be okay with being in his room. Showing an ounce of concern for someone other than himself for the first time in weeks, he said, “Is that okay?”

Charlie cleared her throat, nodding quickly before picking up her feet and walking through the threshold of JJ’s door. She wanted to seem nonchalant about being in his room but JJ saw right through her. Either she was just nervous or she had never been in a boy’s bedroom. The latter was true. If JJ had known that, he would have never let her in his room. He had always believed he was not good enough to be anyone’s first for anything, including a small thing like that.

Charlie softly sat on the edge of JJ’s bed, watching as the boy bent down and put the DVD through the DVD player. When his back was to her, her eyes finally drifted to his right wall where a small picture of him as a child, hugging a woman who shared the same features as he did. She had stuck two fingers, which were supposed to be bunny ears, behind his head and plastered on a huge grin. JJ, oblivious to the fingers behind his head, only gave a toothy grin as he looked into the camera.

When JJ finally got up from his seat on the floor, he sat right next to Charlie. She was right on the edge of his bed, sitting very close to the tv. She seemed a little stiff and JJ hoped she would relax soon. Although her body was in front of the tv, her head was turned elsewhere. When he realized what picture she was looking at, he immediately felt embarrassed. That picture was usually never hung but JJ had felt nostalgic last night and hung it up to look at but never took it down.

Before he could speak, she did first. “Is that your mother?” This was the first clear and confident sentence she had spoken since they met and JJ was almost surprised to see that her regular voice was lower than he first thought.

JJ nodded for a second, grasping to find a subject he could change to. He looked at the tv screen and handed the remote to Charlie, finally knowing what to say. “What episode?”

Charlie scrolled down, through the first season before deciding to pick the first episode. As the opening scene started to play, JJ chuckled to himself, scooting closer to the edge of the bed to get closer to Charlie. He saw that this movement made her nervous but he only scooted closer.

“Why’d you laugh?” Charlie asks, her voice once again softer. She seemed to be nervous again and JJ only found it adorable. “You don’t like the first episode.”

JJ knew it was going to be more difficult to get this girl to kiss him since he doubted she’d ever make the first move. Indulging her, he answered her question. “It just tells me a lot about your personality.”

Charlie’s face contorted in confusion, her eyes off the screen and on JJ now. “What does this tell you exactly?”

JJ smirked. “That you’re a real neat freak. You need things to have a beginning, middle and end. Probably a hopeless romantic. You love the stories of girl meets guy, they fall in love and get married. The end.”

Charlie, a little upset he read her so precisely, only rolled her eyes and tried not to be too offended. “And what episode would you have chosen?”

JJ shrugged, thinking for a moment before answering. “Probably the last one.”

Charlie nodded, scratching her chin. “Probably means you hate to follow the norm. You hate beginnings and middles and the end. You don’t like structure and you probably think love is a little dumb.” When she sees JJ’s smirk falter, she continues. “How right was I?”

JJ was slightly surprised at how accurate she had been. Yet again, he found himself trying to remain calm. “Pretty right.”

Charlie smirked, bowing her head. “Thank you.” Her eyes turned back to the screen, watching as a scene unfolded in front of her.

JJ wasn’t done with the conversation though, upset that a girl he thought he had figured out turned out to be not what he expected. She was shy, he thought. In some ways she was, but at the same time she wasn’t going to let JJ shamelessly make fun of her. She had some type of backbone, however small. He watched her instead of the screen, so confused how he had gotten her personality so wrong. Eventually, she saw he was not paying attention and she looked back to him, sheepishly making eye contact. JJ was confused again. How could she be outwardly intelligent one second and shy the next? This girl was more complicated than he thought.

On your first trip to LA

Bad was the blood of the song in the cab

You ate at my favorite spot for dinner

“Is there something else you wanted to add?” Charlie innocently asked, embarrassed that JJ was watching her so intently.

JJ shrugged, glancing at the screen before looking back at her. “Wondering if the rest of my profile is correct about you.”

He watched as Charlie chuckled at the word profile. He suddenly felt embarrassed, realizing it wasn’t the coolest thing to say in the moment. She shrugged and said, “I don’t know. What is it?”

JJ wanted to say so much but he couldn’t. She wasn’t what he thought she was. She was multifaceted, shy and confident. Meek and talkative. Instead, he felt himself more interested in what she thought about him. This had never happened before. JJ never thought they would do this much talking. He never thought their conversations would get this deep this fast. Especially with a Kook.

“I don’t know. What about me?”

Charlie smiled, glancing at that picture on the wall before speaking. “Definitely a mama’s boy. She probably taught you how to surf.” As she talked, JJ’s heart rate picked up pace. She was getting close to dangerous waters. No one talked about his mother. Not even his closest friends. “That photo tells me two things. One, that she was the heart of the family because she knew how to be goofy. Two, she left because there’s no other pictures of her in the house. Your dad -”

JJ had heard enough. It was too much. She was right about too much. He rarely spoke about his mom, too many buried memories. Without allowing her to speak any longer, JJ got up from his seat beside her and stood by the door. His hand was on the knob, watching as she stopped talking and a concerned expression crossed her face. JJ rolled his eyes, her fake sympathy only angering him. The last thing he needed was an empathetic Kook going around telling everyone his sob story. He didn’t care how needy he was, he was not going to sleep with her now.

“I want you to leave.” JJ said hoarsely, his throat closing as he tried to hold back tears.

As he said this, Charlie’s heart thumped in her ears. She quickly got up from her seat and slowly moved towards an angry JJ. With his hand still clutched around the knob, she slowly approached him. “JJ… I didn’t mean -”

“No,” JJ tensed up again as he saw her approach him. “You Kooks never do.”

Charlie stops in her tracks, soaking in his last words. “Kooks?”

JJ rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you Kooks. You wanna hear a real profile? All you Kooks are so fucking unhappy with your shitty lives you have to bother us with your bullshit. Well, I’m not gonna sit here and let you make me seem like a little poor boy who misses his mom.”

Charlie stays still and waits for JJ to finish before she speaks. “I’m sorry if I hit a nerve, I didn’t know I would be right.”

JJ cackled sarcastically, the door still not open. “Whatever.”

Charlie frowned. “JJ, I’m sorry. You’re right. I am a Kook and I couldn’t possibly understand -”

“Shut up.” JJ hisses, finally taking his hand off the door knob.

He does not move it again and for a minute, Charlie thinks he might not let her go. Then she sees why he’s moved his hand. His hand moves to his chest where she realizes he is having a panic attack. JJ falls to his knees, clutching his chest and heaving. Charlie rushes forward and wraps her arms around him, trying to get him to calm down. She feels like this is completely her fault. She opened a wound that hasn’t fully healed. It was all a joke but she took it too far.

“JJ,” Charlie said as she grasped onto each of his shoulder blades. He made eye contact with her, his face beat red from lack of oxygen. “Try and breathe.”

This had never happened to JJ before, let alone with a girl in his room. Yes, he would have a couple of panic attacks every couple of weeks but never in public and never in front of a girl he wanted to sleep with. The embarrassment only added to the inability to breathe. His mind raced a mile a minute, screaming for him to just breathe. But it was easier said than done. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his breath coming out in large heaves. His chest was hurting and he honestly believed he was going to die. In front of a Kook, nonetheless.

JJ shook his head at Charlie, trying to tell her he couldn’t. Charlie nodded, holding eye contact. “Yes you can.” Her hands moved from his shoulders to his face, gently cupping both sides of his face. “Breathe in.” Charlie instructed for JJ to copy her as she took a deep breath. “Breathe out.”

At first, it was so difficult for him to do but Charlie was not about to give up on him. As minutes passed, she continued to breathe with JJ and help him through his panic attack. Soon, his breaths became even again and only when she was sure he was okay, she let go of the sides of his face. They didn’t speak for many minutes, the both of them not finding the right words to say. They were only fighting ten minutes ago and just now, she had helped JJ through a difficult time where he couldn’t breathe.

Finally, Charlie was the first to speak. She stood up first, reaching out to help JJ up. When he got to his feet, his mind still a little foggy, she spoke. “JJ, I’m -”

“Shh.” JJ quieted her by shushing her.

Charlie instantly stopped speaking, looking directly at JJ. She was mortified because of what had happened and wanted nothing more than to apologize profusely. When JJ wouldn’t let her, she instead waited until he said his peace. She knew some bad words were going to be exchanged but she accepted that. After all, she had basically given him a panic attack. Instead, JJ did the exact opposite. He said nothing for a while. It seemed like he was debating something in his mind and when he finally had made his decision, he looked at Charlie. She was about to try and speak again but she never got the chance; JJ’s hands quieting her. He reached forward for her and cupped her face in his hands before pulling her forward into a heated kiss. This kiss had caught her off guard and she barely had time to react and kiss him back before his lips were off hers again.

JJ felt how hot his cheeks were becoming as he watched Charlie look at him in awe. He had never felt so embarrassed to kiss a girl before but now, he was. He tried to convince himself it was because of his most recent episode, his whole body was weak and was mistaking weakness for nervousness.

As if that wasn’t embarrassing enough, JJ finally spoke. “Sorry.” JJ wanted to slap himself. Why in the hell did he say sorry? He watched as Charlie shook her head, a smile on her face.

“It’s okay.” She whispered, her lips tingling. That was her first kiss and it felt wonderful. And this time, the feeling was mutual.

With a huge surge of confidence, Charlie grabbed JJ by the collar and pulled his forward. When he was only inches away, she leaned in close and kissed him. JJ reacted quicker than her, kissing her back almost instantly. Although this was only the first time she was kissing a boy, JJ would have never guessed that was so. She kissed very passionately, even knowing when to break for air. Slowly, as their kisses deepened, JJ guided her to his bed where he wanted her. This time, he had no ill intentions.

Bold was the waitress on our three-year trip

Getting lunch down by the Lakes

She said I looked like an American singer

JJ never lay on his back when girls kissed him. Instead, he always took charge, hovering over them. His hands would be on their belt in no time and the rest was easy. This time, however, he lay on his back and allowed for Charlie to hover over him as they kissed.

This part was supposed to be easy for him. This was his specialty but, as he kissed Charlie with his hands still not moving from her face, he seemed to forget. It was as if the last years of sexual escapades had never happened and he was a virgin again. This only annoyed him. He wanted to impress her. He wanted to show her how skilled he was but his arms seemed to be limp as Charlie’s hands dropped lower and lower, caressing his body. JJ almost felt embarrassed. He had been waiting to sleep with Charlie ever since that day at the parlor and now, he seemed like an innocent virgin who was scared to make the first move.

Charlie lay on JJ, her legs entangled in his. “JJ, you can touch me, if you want.” She felt slightly embarrassed by what she said but she had a feeling JJ was too nervous to notice. He seemed to be frozen in place, an awkward boy who she knew was experienced.

JJ nodded, glancing at her lips before connecting them once again and kissing her. He felt even more embarrassed now. A girl, who he knew to not be as nearly as experienced as he was, was now telling him how to make out. The world had obviously turned on its axis. There was no way he wasn’t in an alternate universe. Still, he nodded his head and finally moved his hands from her face to the end of her back. As they continued to kiss, his hands lay there and he made a point to softly caress them back and forth.

JJ had never felt as embarrassed as he did then. Not only was he acting if he never touched a girl before, but his heart beat was thumping so loudly in his head, he thought he might faint. This had never happened and he wondered why, out of all the girls, was it happening with Charlie? He had hooked up with girls hotter than Charlie and they never scared him but now, this plain brunette had changed something. As their kissing developed into more, clothes thrown haphazardly all over the floor, JJ asked himself if maybe it was different because he had never met a girl like Charlie ever. Finally, he felt the same string Charlie had felt before and it knotted around his heart, pulling him closer to Charlie.

Time, mystical time

Cutting me open, then healing me fine

Were there clues I didn’t see?

When it was all said and done and Charlie lay beside him, tired and naked, JJ knew he’d never be the same. Everything was different. The kisses had become more intense. The heat of adoration radiated from her body, and for the very first time, JJ made love to someone. It was so overwhelming, particularly for someone who had never been handled like this before. As Charlie snuggled closer to JJ, her eyes ready to close any minute, JJ started to get scared. 

“You okay?” Charlie asked, even though she was in more pain than he was. She had just lost her virginity to JJ and he didn’t even know. She decided against telling him for now, scared to ruin the mood.

Although still in a lot of pain, she couldn’t be happier. She had always wanted to feel loved when she lost her virginity and she finally had. Charlie never took sex too seriously, even though she was a hopeless romantic because most of the time, it was never how you imagined it. She had been warned that it would be dull but that was not her experience at all. She felt safe and protected. JJ had barely said more than a word or two to her during but she could tell how nervous he was, which only made this experience more lovely to her. She was utterly happy beyond belief in that moment.

JJ couldn’t speak, his throat rough. Instead, he nodded slowly and mustered up enough strength to say only one word. “Sleep.” And so she did.

You have to understand where JJ is coming from before I tell you the rest of the story. He grew up with an abusive father, one that would hurt more than he loved. His mother was his shining light, taking any bad situation and turning it into a good one. She loved JJ but was mentally ill herself and the more violent his father got, the more her mind would deteriorate. Sometimes, his mother would be so depressed, she would forget to feed him and JJ had to make his only lunch at six years old. Although his mother tried her best, JJ spent most of his childhood alone until he met John B., Kiara and Pope. And he only met them after his mother left when he was six. JJ grew up in an unstable home where the people that were supposed to love each other, didn’t. He grew up not believing in love and in turn, never experienced love. Of course, he loved his friends but that was a different kind of love. Every girl he was with was just another way to fill the void where he knew romantic love was supposed to be. That’s why he never felt guilty about inviting Charlie over; he was sure nothing would come out of it. But here he was, feeling the emotion he had thought never existed. So, in order to protect himself from what he knew to be the scariest thing to happen to him, he decided to never talk to Charlie again. 

She was the only girl to ever change his mind about love so, instead of facing his feelings head on, he hid from her. After that day, she tried to call him but he never answered. Everytime her number appeared on his phone, he felt the string connecting him to her tug a little but he never answered the phone. He was scared and people who are scared do stupid things.

Charlie had no experience with boys before JJ so at first, she had no idea he was avoiding her. At first, she suspected he was busy. He did have a job and it took up most of his time. Although she tried to be positive, as the days progressed into weeks, she soon realized he was not busy but in fact avoiding her. It came to her after two weeks of leaving messages on his phone and silence. She was with Sarah and Rafe, watching the sun set as they made s’mores. It came to her all at once as she watched the sky get darker and when it sunk in, she burst into tears. At first, they were silent tears but the second Sarah noticed and asked her if she was okay, she started blubbering like an idiot. Sarah had suspected something was wrong but wanted Charlie to come to her organically, not forcing her to tell her what was bothering her. Rafe wanted to stay, due to his feelings for Charlie. Sarah would not allow him to be around and only when he left, did she finally ask Charlie to tell her the entire story.

And when she did, all Sarah saw was red. Charlie was the sweetest person she knew. When they were eight years old, Charlie had introduced herself to Sarah by kissing the paper cut on her thumb and praying for a speedy recovery. Everyone loved Charlie; it was hard not to. She was good to every person she met and to see JJ disregard her like this upset Sarah in so many ways. 

“You should just march right up to his steps and give him a piece of your mind.” Sarah frowned, wrapping her arms around her crying friend.

“Y-you know I c-can’t.” Charlie sobbed, hiccups interrupting her words.

Sarah leaned back, making eye contact with her friend. “And why not?”

Charlie shrugged, wiping the tears from her cheeks. Her cheeks were stained black from her running mascara. “I’m embarrassed.”

Sarah stood up from her seat beside Charlie and scoffed loud enough for Rafe to hear on the other side of the door. Although he had left the room, he wanted to eavesdrop and find out what was wrong with Charlie. The more that was revealed, the angrier he got.

“Charlotte!” Sarah sang, only using her first name when she was upset with Charlie. “You are not the embarrassment in this situation. That Pogue is.”

“I just don’t think I can. I’m not that type of girl.” Charlie shrugged, sifting through her bag to find the makeup wipes and extra tube of mascara she keeps in there. “I’m not a confrontational girl.” She started wiping the black stains off her cheeks, glancing up at Sarah who was pacing the room back and forth.

Sarah crossed the room once more, kneeling in front of Charlie. “You can be.” She grabbed the wipe from Charlie’s hand and started to help her clean off the black stains. “You should be.”

And so, with a little extra mascara and confidence thanks to Sarah, Charlie decided that for at least today she would be that kind of girl. The girl that stands up for herself. She had hated confrontation but she knew Sarah was right. This was the type of situation where anyone should stand up for themself. JJ couldn’t use her anymore than he already had. She wouldn’t allow it. She was stronger. 

As Sarah drove to JJ’s house, Charlie in the passenger seat, Charlie kept trying to convince herself to be mean. Being mean never came naturally to Charlie but JJ had broken her and he deserved a little rudeness. It was hard though, for a particular reason. Everything had seemed so real. He really seemed nervous and it seemed like he truly cared for her. He had acted cocky at the beach when they first met and even when he was asking her out but never when they were alone. He was way more vulnerable with her. Sarah had said that maybe that was his plan and how he got so many girls to sleep with him but Charlie didn’t believe it. Not only because she loved JJ, but because if he was acting the entire time, he had to be the greatest actor in the world.

As Sarah parked in JJ’s driveway, the nerves finally set in for Charlie. She finally realized that this was actually happening and soon she would be confronting the boy that had hurt her so deeply. With a deep breath, she turned to Sarah and gave her a weary look.

“What do I even say?” Charlie asked, holding onto the door for balance. She felt light headed. 

Sarah shrugged. “What you feel.”

Although vague, Charlie understood what message her friend was trying to convey. Charlie had to speak from her heart and let JJ know how much he had hurt her, She didn’t know if he would try to apologize for his actions but she didn’t care. She was not looking for an apology. She loved JJ, she was not afraid to admit it, but she was not going to be dragged around like a lost puppy and made to look foolish. She had more dignity than that. She wasn’t sure why JJ did what he did. Maybe he was scared, or maybe he did it for fun but that wasn’t why she was upset. She was upset because he had not let her know what his true intentions were. Charlie believed in honesty before anything else and if JJ wasn’t going to be honest with her from the beginning, maybe he wasn’t the type of guy she thought he was. 

As she climbed the steps to his house, she thought back to when she first saw him. She had known the rumours about him before and she was warned by many people, Sarah included, but there had been something about him that was so magnetic. It was as if there was a small string connected to him that was pulling her forward. Looking back to their first encounter at the beach, she could see how uninterested he was in her. Hindsight is 20-20 though because in the moment she didn’t realize. She blamed herself in some ways . Maybe if she hadn’t been such a hopeless romantic, none of this would have happened. 

She stopped in front of his door, making no effort to knock on the door. Suddenly, relief washed over Charlie and she realized something. She was better than this. She didn’t need or want an explanation. The people that are nice to her, loved her. The people that went out of their way to help her are the people that love her. She was so in love with the idea of love that she forgot to remember what the reality was sometimes. The reality was that although everyone should be loved, some people don’t want that. Maybe JJ was one of those types of people or maybe not. It didn’t matter. She knew she deserved love and she didn’t need to yell at JJ or give him a piece of her mind to remind herself that she was worthy of love. She knew she was already. She took some comfort in knowing that she would not feel like this forever and soon, that string that had tied them together would break.

Without knocking on his door, Charlie turned right back around and made her way back to Sarah’s car. As she got in, she smiled for the first time in weeks. She felt better and she didn’t even need to talk to JJ.

“What happened?” Sarah questioned, watching as her friend who was now smiling buckled in.

“I just decided I’m better than that.” Charlie explained, finally looking to her friend. She was scared to see her friend’s reaction to this sudden realization but Sarah only smiled. 

As Sarah put her car in reverse, slowly moving farther and farther away from JJ’s house, she felt the invisible string around her heart loosen.

And isn’t it just so pretty to think

All along there was some

Invisible string

Tying you to me?

Sarah had not been looking as she was pulling out of JJ’s driveway. She was too focused on her friend’s newfound confidence that she almost completely disregarded the blonde boy riding a skateboard behind her car. When she finally registered JJ in her rearview camera, she slammed her foot against the break and let out a loud gasp. JJ, who had been thinking of Charlie ever since he saw her last, looked up and, to his surprise, saw a red caravan two inches from him. He frowned, thinking it was one of those loudy child services social workers coming again unannounced. He got off his skateboard and trudged up to the drivers side of the car to tell them off. When he saw Sarah Cameron instead, his eyes widened. What the hell was she doing here? When his eyes shifted to the passenger’s seat, he gasped. 

Charlie, who was gripping onto her seat at the abrupt stop Sarah had made, had not looked up to see JJ on the outside of the car until Sarah called her name.

“Charlie?” Sarah squeaked out, looking to her friend who was trying to catch her breath.

“Hm?” She looked up, her eyes already wide with fear but when she saw JJ, she let a small gasp out as well. 

When her and JJ made eye contact, she knew she couldn’t avoid him any longer. She had to end this; she had to close this awful chapter out her life. So, with her hands shaking, she grabbed onto the ledge of the door and opened it. She swung her legs over the seat and shakingly placed them back on the ground. With a deep breath, she walked to the front of Sarah’s car, where JJ was waiting for her. 

“Charlie…” JJ sighed, seeing the girl he hadn’t stopped thinking about since he first met her. He had been lying to himself for too long. He had loved her the second she had asked him if he liked teal.

Teal. The colour of the shirt she was wearing now. Teal. The colour of his newly painted nails.

“I was gonna yell at you.” She said calmly, her eyes watering as she watched the boy that had caused her so much pain. It seemed that his eyes were watering too now but she wasn’t going to fall for it again. She couldn’t let herself fall again. “But I can’t be anyone but myself. We have to be who we are in this world. And if you wanna be like this for the rest of your life, please leave me out of it.”

“I’m sorry.” JJ blinked fast, not wanting to cry in front of her. He had caused her too much pain, his own pain seemed miniscule now. “I don’t even know who I am. People expect me to be so many things, I don’t know.”

Charlie shook her head. “Forget about what everyone else wants, figure out what you want.”

JJ shrugs. “I don’t know yet.”

“When you know, find me.” Charlie raises her hand to cup one of his cheeks. He rests his head against her hand for a moment but she pulls away too quickly. 

She starts to back away from him but before she can enter Sarah’s car again, JJ speaks. “I hope I haven’t changed your mind about love, Charlotte.”

The way he says her full name tells her everything. She gives him a small smile, shrugging. “Don’t worry, Maybank, I’m still a hopeless romantic.”

A string that pulled me

Out of all the wrong arms, right into that dive bar

Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire

Chains around my demons

Wool to brave the seasons

One single thread of gold

Tied me to you

Days turned into months and before they were both ready, JJ and Charlie graduated. They had seen each other on a few more occasions, such as at his work or at a party, but it was only ever a passing glance. People say time is the best healer and that much was true. For Charlie and JJ, they both felt better as time passed. Although time had passed and somewhat healed, they were not the same.

JJ, for one, had not slept with a single girl since he was with Charlie. He was utterly broken and for months, he refused to even go out to parties. But, with the persistence of his friends, he finally tried to get back into his old rhythm. And, with his old rhythm, came a slew of girls at his disposal. Surprisingly, JJ actually dated a few of them and decided against sleeping with them. Charlie had changed him in the best way. He no longer was fulfilled by one night stands and instead dated girls for weeks. This might not seem like much but for JJ, it was progress. None of them were like Charlie but, with each relationship, it taught him how to be a better person. For one of the first times in his life, he felt whole being by himself. He even got a scholarship to a college on the mainland for the Coast Guard Academy. JJ was beginning to find himself.

Charlie was different too. She grew more confident. She now could recognize when people were taking advantage of her and, instead of ignoring it like she usually would, she would face them head on. She also confronted Rafe with his infatuation with her, something she inadvertently knew about for a while now. They remained friends through it all and she actually respected Rafe even more after it. She also joined the debate team and found her calling; law. She loved debating and began her interest in law by reading tons and tons of textbooks for law school. After months and months of trying to get over JJ, she finally felt herself start to move on. That’s when she finally went out with David, a guy on her debate team. They went out for a couple of weeks and when it ended, it was amicable. Her love for David was nothing like JJ’s but he made her feel secure in her feelings and she appreciated his support. Towards the end of the school year, she had got accepted to Yale, the ivy league school of her choice. She would be away from her friends and family for four years or more but she was excited to start studying law. 

At their graduation, they both saw each other and, for the first time since they spoke, they smiled at each other. This smile was bittersweet considering they both still loved each other, but they were glad that life was going well for the both of them. They had grown and found themselves.

Cold was the steel of my axe to grind

For the boys who broke my heart

Now I send their babies presents

One night, after classes in their respective schools had started, JJ had a revelation. He had returned to OBX for the weekend and found this revelation in his enemy; Rafe Cameron. 

JJ and his friends had promised each other to always meet for the weekend in OBX so they never lost touch but Pope and Kiara had been accepted in schools on the west coast so they were hours and hours away. John B and JJ kept their promises while Kiara and Pope skyped them and spoke all night. They were all still close, maybe even closer, since high school. One night, after Pope and Kiara had signed off, John B and JJ were still not tired and wanted to go out. Sarah had started dating John B only a few months before their graduation and although she was rude to JJ at first, he had grown on her. She wasn’t here this weekend so the boys were bored without her rambunctious ideas. John B had proposed they went out for late night ice cream and since JJ had no other ideas, he agreed to go.

As they waited in line, speaking amongst themselves, Rafe was waiting in line behind them. They had not seen him for months and, at first, they did not recognize him. Only when he tapped JJ’s shoulder, did their eyes widen at the sight of their old enemy. The first thing JJ saw was his teal shirt. His mind went to Charlie.

“What do you want?” John B was very aggressive when he first made eye contact with Rafe but JJ could see what John B didn’t. He wasn’t here to fight. His eyes were soft, almost said to see JJ and John B again.

“I wanna talk to JJ.” His voice is just above a whisper and somehow, JJ trusts him.

Before John B can defend his friend, JJ puts a hand on his friends shoulder. John B looks to him in confusion but says nothing and waits for JJ to speak. “Let’s step outside.”

Gold was the color of the leaves

When I showed you around Centennial Park

Hell was the journey but it brought me heaven

Rafe and JJ had never had a heart to heart. The only choice words they ever spoke to each other was when they were beating eachother up. Now, as they stood outside the ice cream parlour where JJ had previously worked, they seemed to be standing in a comfortable silence.

“What’s up man?” JJ asked, looking to the window where he saw John B ordering his and JJ’s ice cream.

“I want to let you know you’re a complete idiot.” Rafe swallows harshly and steps closer towards JJ. 

For a moment, JJ thinks he might punch him by the anger in his eyes and how his fists are clenched tightly together. But the moment passes and Rafe remains quiet until JJ speaks. “Why?”

“She’s completely in love with you and you’re still here, ordering fucking ice cream.” Rafe spits, unclenching and then clenching his fists.

JJ’s shoulders slump. He wondered how the hell Rafe knew but he didn’t want to dwell on that. “Rafe, it’s complicated.”

Rafe shakes his head, a little calmer now. “No, it’s not. I loved her so much and when I told her, you know what she said?” He paused and only when JJ shrugged, did Rafe continue. “She told me she was waiting for a guy to find himself. So, have you found yourself?”

JJ nodded. “Yeah, but it’s been too long. She probably told you that months ago. My windows closed. Besides, she’s at Yale.”

Rafe shook his head incredulously. “She told me that last week dude.”

JJ felt like he might faint right there at this news. He felt light headed and he held onto Rafe’s shoulder and he tried to find his balance. After all this time, it wasn’t too late. After all this time, she still loved him. He looked back up to Rafe with a smile on his face. He stood straight back up, knowing what he had to do next. 

“Rafe, if John B asks where I’ve gone, tell him sorry, but I have to go see about a girl.”

Time, wondrous time

Gave me the blues and then purple-pink skies

And it’s cool

Baby, with me

Charlie had begun a running regimen when she started at Yale. They had a beautiful track on campus and before every class every morning, she would run for two hours, shower, and then go to whatever class she had that day. On days she had off, she would take her time and on Saturday mornings, when no one had classes, she took extra time. She would sprint for a couple moments, then jog and walk and start all over again. Since she started this exercise, she could see an improvement in her health and stress. Whenever her mind brought her to places she didn’t want to be, she would run. Running had begun to become her therapy, along with her actual therapy.

On that particular Saturday, she was running late; figuratively of course. She had slept through her 6am alarm and, by 7am, she was rushing out her dorm to get to the track. She had tried to always get there extra because after 8am, it got too crowded. But, as she rushed down the steps on her campus dorm and out into the crisp autumn air, she came face to face with a certain blonde boy.

When she finally recognized him, a gasp left her lips. He looked disheveled from his journey and while half of her wondered what he could possibly want from her, the other half was crying with joy because she knew.

JJ walked up one step of the stairs, the closest he’s been to her since all those months ago. “Charlie, I -”

“No speeches.” She cuts him off, wanting to know his answer but too impatient. “Just tell me if you know.” She can’t wait any longer. All of these months of waiting and praying and now he’s here. She forgives him. She forgave him months ago. But now, she needs to know if she’s wasting her time all over again.

“I know now.” JJ looks at her, breathless.

The smile on her face tells him everything he needs to know. She knows too.

And isn’t it just so pretty to think

All along there was some

Invisible string

Tying you to me?

~

taglist: @dolanfivsosxox @obxrush @belledutchess @sexualparkour @lueurglow @maries110911 @ebonyyyy-e @teamnick @tangledinsparkles @91912512 @shawnssongs @ssjiara @amarachoren @under-a-canyon-moon​ @blog-hannahnicole​ @xlittlemissydjx​

[meichenxi]

Yesterday I was walking back home at 15:30 and it was already dark, and I couldn't help thinking: where the hell has the year gone? It was light until 11 last month, I swear. And predictably, cue thoughts about impending doom/age/passing of time etc

And then I stopped because. I was thinking: oh god, in ten years time I'm going to be thirty two, that's like, CHILDREN age.

But how much have we done in the last ten years??

I mean: grown up (bit), dealt with school, dealt with love and loss and friendship, left school behind, made a new beginning, navigated the beginning of adulthood. That's not nothing.

But how much time did we have age twelve for the things we liked compare to now? How much responsibility? How much freedom to be bored, without the distraction of a phone or the internet, to go outside or engage in creativity? I think it's time we cut ourselves some slack really.

Here's the other thing. I was thinking of what had changed my life in those years that is still applicable to this day: age twelve, I didn't know a word of German. And now, despite not having actively studied it in five years (oops) since I left school, you're telling me that I can read my favourite books in German? The Silmarillion in German?? After five years at school?

I try to be positive a lot of the time and fail to convince myself: but this was genuinely a hugely exciting realisation for me for a number of reasons.

One: five years isn't actually that long. When I despair about getting 'old' (shut up Melissa) and opportunities dwindling, think of how far you could go with a language or any other skill in five years!! We as a community tend to think in terms of short term goals: pass this exam, become conversational in three months, blah blah blah. But realistically what we should be aiming to build isn't language skills, but the mindset and curiousity and habits of someone who enjoys learning languages. And, you know, if it takes you longer than three months to reach 'fluency', wow, Benny Lewis was lying to you, what a surprise. In the long term, the things you invest in will pay off: you just need to take time. Also, if it takes longer than five years? Each language has its quirks, and you have different time and priorities at different life stages. I have spent SO much more time on German than French or Spanish, probably 3x or 4x as much though I did all three until the end of secondary school, and yet I can still read French and Spanish academia easier than German. It's annoying, but it's ok. German academia is hard. Similar with Chinese: reading the Silmarillion after five years of study?? You must be absolutely mad. Bonkers I tell you. That's also OK. I still get excited that I can understand the train announcements - different languages have different priorities.

Two: your brain is incredibly powerful, and passive knowledge, while not the same as active knowledge, doesn't decrease. Ok, it's very much demonstrably true that if you don't speak a language for five years regularly you'll get rusty. That's the case with my German, and that's what is called language attrition, and it can happen in languages you've had from birth as well. Your listening and reading abilities may also suffer from lack of use: but if you have a solid foundation in the language (I don't mean ordering yakisoba), you won't forget it if you don't use it. It just takes a while to reactive it because the neural pathways you have for quickly recalling a word are strengthened less and are thus inhibited to make it easier for words you use more frequently. Any use of those pathways will strengthen them again. There have been case studies of people with severe amnesia who nevertheless are able to function perfectly well in second languages: they cannot acquire new words largely, but they can still use the Italian they learnt as an exchange student in their 20s, as long as they had a strong foundation. You don't forget passive knowledge. I spent five months in Germany, speaking only German, and when I got back to the UK it took me about two or three weeks before I could comfortably speak in English again about what I had done. It also depends on what you're talking about - talking about my school years always came naturally, of course, as would be expected, because I had attended school in English. It would be if it didn't. Talking about my work in Germany to this day remains difficult in English, even though it's my first language, because I have such strong associations of it in German. I don't know how to say 'Freiwilliges Soziales Jahr' or 'Landschulheim' or 'Betreuungsgruppe' in English, because I never had to.

This is SO important. In polyglot circles there is as much talk of maintaining languages as of learning them and that's because it's recognised that language maintainance is critically important. There's also a lot of talk of reactivating languages - of spending an intense short time period re-immersing yourself in that language in order to be able to speak it again. So if you feel your speaking skills are slipping because, well, you don't speak: that's to be expected, and it's completely fine, not something to beat yourself up about.

It's also semi-wild. I don't recall learning a lot of the German I have learnt because I was fairly young, and learnt through immersion with books and so often lack exact translations. But it's wild to me that if you slapped, I don't know, the Brothers Grimm in front of me and asked me to read it, I could do it without any problem. But if you asked me in English to tell you what essentially any of the more uncommon fairytale-like words used in such stories were in German, I'd have absolutely no idea. Pail? Calluses? Scabbard? Gizzard? ? No idea.

But my brain hasn't forgotten; it's just deemed these are not useful words for me to be able to access quickly.

But isn't that actually so exciting?? Think of how long it's taken you to get this far with your target language. That's not actually that long.

And think of everything you could do, and will do, within the next ten years.

加油！

- 梅晨曦

[missmollybloom]

New Fic: Couples Retreat

Summary: Two months after the phonecall from Sherrinford and Sherlock Holmes can tell that things haven’t been the same between the detective and his pathologist. With Molly pulling away from him, will an undercover case at a couples’ retreat be enough for Sherlock to show his pathologist that things can go back to normal between them?

(And, as it’s a Sherlolly fic, do you really think “normal” will remain “normal” for long?)

 A/N: So here I am with another WiP. I’m trying a few new things. In terms of plot, I’ve never written a case fic before - so wish me luck! In terms of process I’ve actually plotted the whole thing out so (hopefully!) I shouldn’t write myself into writer’s block and should hopefully update regularly. Here’s to good intentions. I hope you like it!

Also on Ao3 here.

Chapter 1

Sherlock Holmes didn’t like change. Of course, this fact shouldn’t have come as a surprise to anyone. He was, after all, a man who had lived in the same flat for the past ten years, worn the same make and style of Belstaff coat for just as long, and once mourned his favourite brand of ball-tip pen going out of business by sulking on the couch for two weeks.

But the change which Sherlock found hurtling towards him this time was no mere inconvenience like the pens, or couldn’t be handled by stocking up on a cupboard full of identical coats. This change had the power of turning his whole world upside down.

So shaken was Sherlock by the news that it took John only five minutes in his presence for him to declare the detective’s mood so “un-fucking-bearable,” that he was banned from visiting John’s flat until he “pulled his head out of his arse.” Both of these statements were said by his friend mere moments before slamming the door in the detective’s face.

Sherlock couldn’t help it. So blindsided was he by the change that was coming upon him that he had no means to process it outside of the piercing verbal barbs he had flung at his friend. Barbs that were not received well and would, in any other circumstances, have led to a black eye or two.

Sherlock got off lucky – nary a bruise from John shoving him out the door - and only because John knew the one fact that Sherlock was only just discovering: If Molly Hooper left London, Sherlock Holmes would be lost.

Even though Sherlock had no idea before that day that Molly was even contemplating such a thing, there were hints that he missed.

Although he and Molly had been able to continue working together after the awkwardness of explaining that phone call to her, things in the past few months were decidedly different from before.

Molly, for her part, took his explanation well, understanding the situation Eurus had put him in. Nevertheless, there had certainly been a reserve in their exchanges ever since. Sure, she’d do the autopsies he requested, and would work late to run extra tests, but it was all delivered with the cool detachment of a colleague, none of the warmth he’d come to expect, value, even enjoy from Molly.

Even their companionship, the comfortable silence spent working side-by-side in the lab had evaporated over the last few months.

Earlier that morning, the morning Sherlock’s world fell off its axis, he strode into an empty lab that he could tell she’d only just vacated. At the time, it didn’t even cross his mind that she was making every effort to limit her time with him.

But now, as he lay on the couch in Baker street, reflecting on the day that was, he realised that she most certainly was.

---

Earlier that day, Molly heard Sherlock’s familiar voice echoing down the hallway outside her lab. On the phone to John, she guessed. She didn’t bother packing up before leaving through the side door, escaping before he could find her in the lab. She needed some air, needed some space, needed anything other than Sherlock Holmes, and Beppe’s café just down the road from Barts would do the trick.

Making herself scarce whenever Sherlock came around was a habit she had formed ever since the phone call from Sherrinford a few months ago. Of course she couldn’t keep working at Bart’s and never see him, it was, as Mycroft Holmes had called it all those years ago, Sherlock’s “home from home”.

Molly decided that she’d do what he needed for his cases but nothing extra.

No late night phone calls where he used her as a sounding board.

No walks through London like they had spent in the long nights of his recovery after the Culverton Smith case.

Certainly no invitations to eat takeaway in her flat.

Not that he had tried to resume any of their friendship rituals since that day, either.

What the detective didn’t see, or couldn’t perceive in all his intellect was that Molly was a woman in pain. Not for any lack of the detective’s observational prowess; rather, Molly didn’t trust herself to give him the opportunity to see her, had built a wall around herself so thick and although the cement hadn’t yet hardened into toughened concrete as yet, she knew well enough that time spent in Sherlock’s presence would only weaken the foundations, causing the wall to crumble and herself to be revealed.

That phone call had for a moment fulfilled every hope she had ever held for their relationship, only to have said hopes dashed with the sudden silence of the suspended phone line. Even if she kept a kindling of the flames alive for a few hours afterwards, his explanation was a deluge of rain, making it impossible to stoke the embers of her hope back to life again.

It was early morning the next day after the phone call when he arrived. He looked like shit and this was in the opinion of someone who had seen him after faking his death, had seen him hanging over a toilet bowl vomiting bile because his detoxing body couldn’t handle any food, had seen him at his lowest.

But his sunken eyes had seen ghosts that day. He’d also, she’d soon learn, seen her on a screen with a countdown timer that – with four men already dead at Eurus’ hands – gave Sherlock no reason not to believe counted the seconds ticking away in the final minutes of Molly’s life.

“I had no other choice, I hope you’ll understand and one day, even forgive me.” He had asked.

“There is nothing to forgive.” She had lied.

The phone call was an experiment, just as he had said. Just not his.

And the words, said twice and so convincingly, were mere lies to save her life.

How could she ever be so daft as to believe them to be true?

She needed time and space to rebuild from the ashes – which was becoming increasingly difficult with the frequency with which Sherlock had been visiting Barts in the last week.

But Molly Hooper had another plan. There was another way she could maintain her space and heal her heart.

---

Sherlock lay across the lounge at Baker Street. His hands were steepled under his chin as he replayed the events of the day again, scouring them for any hints at what was to come.

Sherlock was about to follow Molly out to her favourite lunch place when his phone rang. Normally, he’d ignore a call from his mother, but with the wounds wrought by Eurus’ reappearance from the dead still raw, he had softened of late in his treatment of his parents.

The recovered memories from his childhood now revealed why his parents had always fretted over him so much.

“Morning mother,” he began.

“Oh Sherlock, I’m so glad you answered. Are you well?”

“Yep,” he said, popping the P. “Is that why you called? Checking in on my health? Because it’s easier to text.”

“No dear, it’s Cheryl Williamson – do you remember her, from my square dancing troupe?”

“Yes,” he lied, without any attempt to sound convincing.

His mother continued, “Well it’s her son, James. Well actually it’s his wife Melanie. You see, she’s missing and I was hoping-“

“Solved it.” He cut her off.  “She left him.”

“No! That’s just the thing!” His mother persisted, “They’d just been to a couples’ retreat.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. So far, so boring.

“Can you please look into it for me?”

He didn’t have the heart to say no. But he also knew how little attention he could give such a case and still count it as keeping his promise to his mother. Five minutes on the internet should do the trick.

“Of course I will.”

Sherlock hung up before his mother finished showering him with effusive praise.

He needed a computer, and he knew just where to find one.

Having succeeded in avoiding Sherlock earlier, Molly was shocked to find him in her office sat at her computer when she returned to Bart’s.

“Sorry. I had a case,” was his greeting.

“Won’t be long,” he added, all without looking up from the screen.

“Oh, that’s ok, I’ll just-“ Molly placed down her take-away bag from Beppe’s café on the desk and turned to leave.

“You can stay.” He said, gesturing to the visitor’s chair. “It is your office after all.”

As much as she wanted to leave, there was a not insignificant part of her that missed the companionship they used to share as they worked together in the lab. She opened the take-away tiramisu cake and started eating it.

“MrsDawson1976 isn’t a very strong password, Molly”.

“I’ll be sure to change it.”

“I would have pegged you for a Pacey fan, anyway.”

“I would have assumed you would have deleted all knowledge of American teen dramas from the 1990s.”

She should have left it at that, but it was Sherlock and he was on a case, so curiosity got the better of her.

“What’s the case?” she couldn’t help asking.

“Missing woman. Wife of a son of a friend of my mum’s.”

“What a good boy you are,” Molly teased with a wry smile. “Any leads?”

“Not a one,” Sherlock said, frowning, eyes scouring the screen for more clues. “It seems that she left early from a couples retreat four weeks ago and vanished, leaving no trace.”

This was where she would usually chime in. This was where she would have joined him on his side of the desk, standing so close that she could see the stubble forming on his chin, nose filled with the scent of him, a scent she craved and had to admit she had been missing.

But she didn’t join him.

Instead, she stood.

“Good luck with it,” Molly said, standing, punctuating her exit by throwing the empty cake container in the bin.

---

Sherlock watched her go. It was the longest time she’d voluntarily spent in his presence in months, and it had only been a few minutes.

He had seen in her a vacillation, a moment in which she may have come and helped him, but it evaporated in an instant, and Sherlock was left alone.

His searches for Melanie Williamson had yielded no clues. Her mobile phone was dead. Her accounts had not been accessed. Her car remained on the street where she’d parked it in front of her flat before taking the train to North Norfolk for the couples’ retreat.

The woman, it seemed, had evaporated.

Curious indeed.

Online avenues of inquiry all exhausted, Sherlock was about to turn off Molly’s computer when an email alert popped up. Normally, her inbox was full of messages from Mike Stamford, or questions from her various trainees, or subscriptions to online shopping sales from H+M or Topshop, her brands of choice.

He would have ignored all these. But not this one. This one he had to open based on the preview text alone.

 From: Recruitment@Glasgow.Royal.nhs.uk

Subject: Progress of your application

Dear Doctor Hooper, thank you for your interview on Zoom last week. We are in the final stages of reference checks and will inform you of our decision in the coming week.

Warmly,

Jane Harper

HR manager, Glasgow Royal Hospital.

 Molly had applied for another job.

Molly had interviewed for another job.

Said job was in Glasgow.

This wouldn’t do. Sherlock strode out of Molly’s office and upstairs to the one man who could make sense of what was going on.

It turns out that Mike was in the middle of a call when Sherlock arrived, and from what Sherlock heard, it was the reference check that the email referred to.

“Hang up.” Sherlock declared.

“Sorry?” Mike said.

“Hang up!”

Sherlock didn’t wait, placing his fingers on the receiver cradle to cut off the call.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Mike asked, face reddening.

“What do you think you’re doing, Mike? Molly can’t leave Bart’s!”

“She can if she wants to, mate. Do you know how many headhunters have been after her in the past 10 years? She’s said no to every single one.”

“But what has changed?” He asked himself, rather than Mike.

---

Having reviewed all available data from the day, Sherlock stood from the lounge. Taking his violin out of its case, he plucked at the strings, hoping the familiarity of the instrument would give him peace, help him understand.

He didn’t know how long he had been playing, or precisely what he had been playing, but from the look on Mrs Hudson’s face, it had been a while, and not necessarily music that was soothing to the soul.

“I need to sleep Sherlock,” his landlady had pleaded. “I’ve got the ladies coming over to play bridge tomorrow.”

In the past he would have snapped at her. In the past he would have taken out his frustrations on the wall or on the mantlepiece.

Instead, he stood, grabbing his coat and leaving without a word.

He walked for hours through the streets of London. It was a habit he used to do alone, but during his detox and recovery, Molly had joined him.

Over the course of a few weeks he had shown her all the cases he could remember, those details he hadn’t deleted or outsourced to John’s blog to keep an historical record of.

As he walked tonight, he wasn’t recounting cases, he wasn’t even focusing on the case at hand – the disappearance of Melanie Williamson. All his attention, all his mental energy was spent unpacking the curious behaviour of his pathologist.

It was obvious that Eurus’ little game, her emotional vivisection, was not without its cost. He could see that now, so clearly. Molly had withdrawn from him, and rightly so. But, if he was honest, he had allowed her to.

It would only take one visit to her flat with chips, one phonecall to chat through his thinking in a case, one day like the day they’d spent solving crimes together after his return from the dead and she would see what he already knew, that nothing needed to change, they could return to how things were before Eurus came and fucked everything up between them.

And that was the answer – a case – and one staring him in the face!

Two birds, one stone.

---

It was 5am when Molly awoke to a not unfamiliar sight of Sherlock Holmes stood over her bed.

“What is it?” she said, voice horse, eyes bleary.

“I need help with a case.”

Molly reached for her dressing gown, pulling it tightly around her as she sat up.

“Is there a body?” she asked.

“No.”

“Well, is there some test you need?”

“No.”

“Then what do you need?”

“You-“ a beat, the couplet had passed between them on a night completely different from this one.

Sensing the charged atmosphere in the air, Sherlock continued.

“Four weeks ago, Melanie and James Williamson attended a couples retreat in North Norfolk. Melanie left the retreat early and hasn’t been seen from since.”

“So what do you need?”

“I need you to go undercover with me at the retreat.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No – I’m sure you’ve heard the word before Sherlock.” Molly paced to the kitchen, putting on the kettle.

“I’m familiar with it, but I don’t understand,” he said as he followed her.

“I can’t drop everything and go chasing after white rabbits with you whenever you feel like it.”

Sherlock didn’t understand the reference.

“Alice in Wonderland, look it up sometime.”

Sherlock persisted in his questioning “Why not?”

“I’m not John. I’m not your partner. I’m your-“ Molly paused, stuck for words. “I don’t even know what I am Sherlock. But whatever it is it doesn’t entail being at your beck and call 24/7. I have my own life.”

She didn’t say it but he knew. Glasgow loomed unspoken between them.

He wanted her to stay in London, wanted to tell her how important she was to him, how he couldn’t do his job without her help. He wanted to say he was sorry that things got so fucked up by his sister. He wanted to commit to making things go back to just like they were before the phone call.

He was going to say it all, but the sound of a text alert from Greg sliced through the silence between them.

Sherlock read it, then showed Molly the screen.

James Williamson didn’t show up to work yesterday.

“Two people, Molly. I can’t go in there on my own.”

Everything he could see in Molly, the clench of her jaw, the intake of air sharply through her nose, the fingers balled into fists at her side told him she was about to say no.

Which was why Sherlock was so surprised when she agreed.

“Yes. I’ll go with you.” She said, “but I have some rules first.”

[choices-love-affair]

Fever Pitch - Part 2

So I know I said this would be a two-part fic buuuuuut... it’s going to be more than that. This is set between Ethan returning from the Amazon, and goes into detail what happened that night, all from his perspective.

The last two months had been agonising for Ethan. Whilst he acknowledged that putting the physical and emotional distance between he and Lorelei was going to be undoubtedly difficult, he never could have imagined just how soul destroying and debilitating it would truly be. While the days spent working under stressful and often challenging environments occupied his headspace for the most part, it was the long and quiet nights that were all-consuming and drowning him in his own resentment. Watching her name flash up on the screen incessantly for the first few weeks had been difficult beyond compare, and as the phone calls and messages slowly dwindled out, his self-worth became non-existent. Truth be told, he was scared of the things he had said and even more so of the things he had done, fuelled by the fear of the unknown, cautious of relinquishing control and most of all, acutely aware of how inadequate he believed he was for her.

And so, he ran from his feelings, just as he always did.

He had spent every day since that night in his office, tortured, reminiscing upon the times Harper had told him it was his inability to commit wholeheartedly - a ‘flaw’ she had called it, that would ultimately be his undoing. And whilst he was unphased when Harper left him, the situation with Lorelei occupied a completely different tier entirely. It was love, and it petrified him, whether he cared to admit it or not.

And for some god forsaken reason, she seemed to love him in return. Despite all the undesirable things he believed he represented as a man, she loved him. Flaws and all.

“I’m not deserving” he whispered to himself under his breath.

His feelings towards her had never subsided whilst he was away like he had hoped. If anything, they had amplified exponentially, and by the time he and the team felt like they had finally achieved what they had set out to do in the Amazon and return home, it was as though a lifetime had been spent. Would she even still be there? He thought to himself as he approached the plane and settled into his seat for the flight home.

“If you leave, I can assure you I won’t be here when you get back.” Her words on a constant loop, repeating themselves through his mind over and over, torturing him any opportunity they could.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. This is your Captain Stokes and Co-Pilot Saunders speaking. We anticipate a clear flight with an estimated arrival time into Boston Logan International Airport at 4.45pm. If you require any attention whatsoever, please do not hesitate to contact the crew who are more than happy to assist. So please, sit back and enjoy the flight.” the Captains voice cut through Ethan’s reverie over the loudspeakers.

It was time to go back home. Back to her.

                                                        ***

The constant swing of the door as patrons filled into Donahues beer garden, accompanied with the thrumming music from the jukebox, quickly turned the ambient hum into a buzzing and somewhat irritating noise that rubbed Lorelei the wrong way, a bad mood that had endured for the duration of his absence. Despondent that he had left, and exasperated that she remained there, waiting, the enduring bad mood constantly fuelled. The group of doctors sat at their new normal table out in the new beer garden – Lorelei often wondered if it was their constant patronage that led to Reggie having the means to finally afford the renovations – while the group enjoyed the twinkling clear sky, the drinks and conversation flowed all the same.

As Ethan approached the establishment, his heart was hammering so hard in his chest, he was sure he would sooner suffer from a literal stroke before he made it through the front door. Immediately approaching the bar and searching for liquid courage before even contemplating searching for the real reason he was there, he quickly gained Reggie’s attention.

“Ethan! You’re back, my friend!” Reggie exclaimed loudly, walking around the bar and up to Ethan in a few quick strides, enveloping him in a wholesome and genuine hug “the place wasn’t quite the same without you, ya moody bugger! Not to mention nobody appreciates the top shelf stuff quite like you do” he joked, giving Ethan’s shoulders a brisk shake, accompanied with a cheeky wink.

“Hello, Reggie” Ethan mused, smiling smally back at his friend

“You like what I’ve done with the place?” Reggie asked, gesturing around at his bar and smiling adoringly as his pride and joy.

“You’ve done well, my friend” Ethan replied absently, looking around behind him at the booths and watching each one with a lingering assessment

“Ahhh….” Smirked Reggie knowingly “she’s outside enjoying the new beer garden” he whispered conspiratorially into Ethan’s ear “just in case you were wondering” he continued, shrugging innocently before raising a cocked eyebrow at Ethan’s feigned confused face

“I don’t know-“

“Oh please! Do not insult me by pretending I’m wrong” he patted Ethan on the back affectionately before walking back to the other side of the bar, gesturing his head to the back door encouragingly again before returning to serve patrons waiting for their next drink.

Ethan took one last steadying breath, preparing his hopeful heart for the best, yet fearing very much the inevitable worse. As he pushed through the door and stepped out into the night, the scene before him hit him square in the face as time slowed to a near standstill. One by one, her friends stopped mid conversation to stare at him.

“He’s back!” he heard whispered from the table, and then it happened – she turned around, and his heart all but stopped. As their eyes locked, he found himself right back where he left two months ago - doubtful, anxious and under the abhorrent belief that he was undeserving of all that she was and inspired.

                                                        ***

“How am I supposed to push you to be everything you can be if I…” Ethan trailed off, unable to finish his thoughts, and as he watched her face fall, he could feel his heart and hers breaking all over again. He watched intently as her whole demeanour changed, shifting from responsive to shattered in a millisecond, as she searched his face for any sign of redemption.

“Goodnight, Dr Ramsey. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Her voice cool and dangerously calm echoed in the vacant beer garden, as she turned on her heel and walked out the door without a second glance back. Ethan watched her retreating form before sighing in frustration, turning back to the table to down the contents of his glass in one swift mouthful, watching the flames of the fire flick and dance up into the silent night. He pondered for a long while, before he heard the creak of the back door and the soft thud of footsteps approach him.

“Not a good time Reggie…” warned Ethan, not once looking up from the transfixing flames

“Well I’m sorry to disappoint, but when I heard third hand that my favourite son was back in town and that I was yet to hear from him myself, I decided to come find him instead” a familiar voice chastised Ethan as the bench seat shifted underneath the newly added weight now joining him. Ethan turned in fleeting surprise to see Naveen seated next to him, a knowing look on his face. Ethan’s expression quickly returned to a self-pitying somber, a small scoff escaped him

“I’m your only son” he retorted back, rolling his eyes, and turning back to his glass, filling it with more amber liquid.

“Then I am at liberty to remind you that you are obliged to listen” Naveen emphasised knowingly, staring at Ethan’s profile, a pang of sympathy for the younger, conflicted doctor seated before him.

“Really not in the mood to have all my failures laid before me, Naveen. I can assure you I’m capable of the self-loathing all on my own” Ethan laughed humourlessly, downing the drink as quick as the last on.

“There is something fundamentally wrong with me, Naveen” he shook his head at himself in disbelief, playing with the empty tumbler, knowing Naveen knew exactly what he was talking about.

Naveen tsked at the hopelessness emitting from Ethan, as he waited for him to continue. Silence ensued the two men as they both sat in their own private contemplation.

“I left because I thought it was what was best, for both of us. But every second I was gone I couldn’t help but regret every little thing I said and did… or didn’t say” explained Ethan, hazarding a side glance at Naveen, concerned he would be met with condescending disappointment. Instead, all he received was Naveen’s warm and encouraging expression, which immediately began to crumble Ethan’s resolve, tears welling in his eyes as he quicky looked away “I don’t even know what I was expecting when I came here. That she was just going to welcome me back with open arms? Just the sight of her petrifies me, for reasons I’ll never understand. I’ve hurt her more than I’ll ever care to admit, and I did that all on my own, Naveen. I tried so hard to maintain her reputation but all I did was shatter her wholesome heart. How can I ever expect her to work on the diagnostics team when I’ve done what I’ve done?!” he explained, a small shiver jolting through him as he realised how much damage he had caused.

Ethan paused, allowing himself a chance to gather his thoughts as he found himself becoming increasingly emotional, but also hoping Naveen may contribute something to help put him out of his misery. When Naveen said nothing, Ethan added

“I ripped her heart out when I left. I know I did because I ripped mine out too” he shook his head at the memory

“I know” Naveen finally added, as Ethan looked at him quizzically

“I was the one who picked up your pieces, Ethan. She was a mess when you left, and it took me the good part of two months to convince her that you were actually coming back! She thought you weren’t returning, that it was all her fault” explained Naveen, looking at Ethan pointedly “I won’t deny I was disappointed with you, son. How you dealt with the whole situation was inexcusable- “

“Helpful, thank you” Ethan interjected sarcastically

“BUT!” Naveen continued warningly “… it isn’t too late. She will hear you out Ethan, you just need to talk.” Naveen placed his hand upon Ethan’s shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze to emphasise the importance of what he was trying to say, as Ethan considered the older man’s words for a long while.

Wordlessly he stood up and collected his things, glancing at Naveen with newfound confidence and began walking to the exit. A smug, knowing grin spread across Naveen’s face as he realised he had managed to sway the internal riot in Ethan’s mind favourably

“Oh, and Ethan!” called Naveen, swiveling on the bench and meeting Ethan’s eyes as he turned back at the sound of his name “don’t ruin it. You and I both know what this girl means to you, and she doesn’t deserve this mess” he reminded his prodigy – medical mastermind, romantic dunce. Ethan nodded at Naveen before exiting the door and making his way to her apartment.

By the time he reached her front door, he was puffing, albeit more from anxiety than any kind of physical exertion, as he prepared himself mentally, tapping gently on the door.

Lorelei answered, dressed in an oversized sweatshirt, woolly socks and a messy bun that was haphazardly tied on the top of her head.  Her face cycled through various emotions as she registered it was Ethan that stood before her, while also acutely aware of what she was wearing and where they were, before landing on irritated curiosity.

“Hi?” she shot, looking at him through narrowed eyes, her body language quickly turning defensive, “what do you want?”.

Taglist: @trappedinfandoms @openheart12 @mvalentine @kaavyaethanramsey @newcolonies @missmiimiie @nooruleman @drethanramslay @agent-breakdance @angela8756 @utterlyinevitable @maurine07 @professorkingslay @shanzay44 @youamazemex21 @queencarb @mysticaurathings @manu303 @chaotic-pixie

[ashliinks]

until finally | cedric diggory

prompt ; imagine being one of the mermaids who lived in the black lake

words ; 4.5k

pairing(s) ; cedric x maledictus-mermaid fem!reader, fred & george x reader                        (platonic)

a/n ; i wrote this at 3am after sobbing over goblet of fire, pls enjoy :) 

        take a shot everytime i saw grindylows for liver failure

Ever since you were as small as a guppy, you had always known you were different from the other merfolk who resided in the Black Lake. Your more human-like features and your lack of proficiency in mermish music, stood out amongst the folk in your village. It wasn’t until you were thirteen, that your mother revealed her darkest secret to you. 

Many moons ago, your family was bestowed with a curse. A blood curse. The curse had been passed down the women of your family for centuries it had seemed. From your understanding, the type of blood curse meant your fate was predestined; and that in time you would be permanently stuck beneath the dark waters of the lake. 

You had never thought to question the days you spent on land. The ability to change your tail into legs had never seemed odd to you, until a young mermaid told you that it was very strange indeed. You would be lying if you said it didn’t cross your mind as to why none of the merfolk took you up on your offers of picnics on the river-bank. 

You had come to realise that your mother had unfortunately succumbed to the curse, unable to transform into a human anymore. As the days went on, she seemed to grow more and more miserable, for she missed the feeling of the sunshine on her skin, the grass beneath her feet and the friends she made in the wizarding world. All of the young wizards she knew had abandoned her as soon as she was limited on the time she could spend above water. You tried to convince her that the younger generations of wizards were more understanding, and that those who visited you after school hours and weekends were the nicest people you had ever met. 

You took a deep breath as you broke the surface of the Black Lake, the warm sunlight being a welcomed feeling on your cold skin. As your ears adjusted and popped at the sudden assault of air, you heard cheering from the shore. Looking over you noticed a cluster of Hogwarts students jumping and waving to you. You couldn’t help the smile that graced your features, diving back under the water so you could swim closer to them.

“Y/N!” A voice called out to you as you resurfaced once more. Propping yourself up on the lakes edge slightly, your eyes instantly recognised the black and yellow robes of the Hufflepuff boy who had come to visit you.

“Diggory!” You yelled in glee, flinging your arms up into the air at the sight of him, making you fall back into the lake slightly. This seemed to amuse him and his rabble of fangirls, them all chuckling beneath their breath as your clumsiness. 

“How is my favourite wizard...Don’t tell Fred and George I said that,” You winced, only imagining the backlash you would receive from the twins if they ever found out.

“Cedric has only gone and put his name in the Goblet of Fire,” One of the Hufflepuff boys yelled with a giggle, making your smile drop suddenly. You pushed yourself up further, motioning for Cedric to lean forward. The boy did so wearily, noticing your sudden change in expression. He was right to do so, as when he was in close enough reach you sunk your hands into the collar of his robes, using your great upper body strength to fling him over your head and into the lake. 

Everyone went quiet.

He resurfaced shortly after, spitting water everywhere. “What in the bloody hell was that for?!”

“HOW COULD YOU BE SO STUPID TO PUT YOUR NAME INTO THAT STUPID CUP DIGGORY? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MANY KIDS WE HAVE HAD TO DRAG BACK UP TO THE SURFACE BECAUSE THEY NEVER MAKE IT PAST TWENTY MINUTES IN HERE?” You yelled, splashing water at the boy to emphasise your words. 

Cedric was silent. When he put his name in, he had heard of the terrible feats some of the tasks held. He had heard whispers of those that sunk beneath the murky waters of the lake to never return. So it was safe to say, your reaction had been pretty tame to what he initially imagined you would do.

“I might as well drown you myself! How could you be so, so-” Ah! There it was. He had half expected you to drag him straight down to the bottom of the lake and leave him there, but he knew you didn’t have the gall. You couldn’t even hurt a Grindylow, no matter how prickly they got sometimes. 

“I’m going to be fine! I have all but perfected the bubble head charm-”

“You think that now Ced, but wait until you're in the water. Because it's not just your air you have to worry about, there’s the Grindylows and the kelpies, not to mention the giant squid and he’s feeling particularly tender after those Durmstrang kids ran their boat over one of his arms-”

“Love, you’re overreacting! Plus I have you don’t I? Or will you bail on me if we have to come to the lake?” Cedric asked, cocking his eyebrow as he splashed you slightly.

“Are you doubting me Diggory?” You asked, raising your voice as you splashed him back once more.

“I would never!” He feigned hurt at the idea, making you burst out into laughter. 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’VE NEVER RODE A BROOM?” Fred and George yelled in unison as you climbed further up in the tree you were all gathered around.

“My mother kept me in my mer-form most of my life! I’ve never even held a wand even though we’re supposed to be witches,” You giggled as you rose higher and higher.

“YOU WHAT?” They yelled even louder. Even Hermoine had a surprised look on her face at the remark.  It was no lie. Your mother thought it may have been best to keep you a mermaid most of the time, that way when the transformation became final you would not long for the wizarding lifestyle she so desperately missed. You had never ridden a broom, never held a wand. Hell, you had never even cast a spell as simple as an accio charm. 

“Well this simply won’t do,”

“Not at all,” The twins rambled on in turns. You could never quite get over that, their twin telepathy and always knowing what the other was thinking at all times. It must be a terrible thing to have to deal with. 

“C’mon then guppy, we’re off to the castle.”

“Wait, what? I mean is that even allowed, I’ve never been inside the castle, I don’t even have shoes, are you sure Dumbledore wouldn’t mind that I-”

“Christ, you’d think being underwater all the time would limit your skills of communication,” George laughed as you began your descent towards the ground. 

“Who cares if you don’t have shoes, Potter walks around looking like he’s just woken up in a parallel universe half of the time,”

The laugh that erupted from you had you throwing your head back, a chorus of chuckles resounding from below you too. You were laughing that much that you had forgotten to keep a tight grip on the branches, and in the next moment your wobbly legs had slipped from their place, sending you tumbling through branches and leaves. Hurtling towards the ground, you braced for the impact. You almost wondered what would happen if you were to break a leg. Your mother would kill you, there’s no doubt about that, but would your tail also be broken? You didn’t particularly want to find out. 

After what felt like a lifetime, you landed. However, it wasn’t the hard, painful landing you were expecting. Instead what you had landed on was soft, and warm...and moving? Opening your eyes, that you had not remembered closing, you came face to face with a chest. It was only when you looked up, you were met with the slight pained expression of Fred Weasley.

“Try to be a hero and I just get the wind knocked out of me,” He wheezed, making you blush bashfully. 

“Could say you just took my breath away guppy,” He winked, making you burst out in another uncontrollable fit of laughter.

“CEDRIC?” You yelled out as you ran through the courtyard of the castle, the whole place completely unfamiliar to you. You did however, manage to blend in quite well, Fred and George had taken you to Hogsmeade and had provided you with a set of Hogwarts robes, out of the allowance their mother was sending them. You had nearly cried when you found out they had been saving up for weeks just to make you feel more included. Your heart swelled even more when they told you that you could come and visit the castle any time now, looking like a student wouldn’t put you under too much scrutiny. You were still scared as to what would happen to you if Dumbledore, or god forbid Snape, ever found you. 

“Y/N?” Someone called, making you spin around sharply. Your hair still dripping, as you had not waited a single minute from jumping out of the lake to sort yourself out fully, slapped you in the face at the speed of your turn. Looking through the flashes of black, blue and fur, your eyes landed on the boy you had been searching for.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, looking over you in worry that something had happened. He paused when he noticed the robes you were wearing. 

“Are those Hufflepuff robes?” He asked with a small smile.

Looking down, you took in the sight of yourself. The sunshine yellow looked amazing against your skin tone, and the slightly oversized robe made you feel so comfy and to your amusement was surprisingly swishy. 

“Uh yeah! Fred and George bought them for me!” You enthused, ever the one to be easily distracted. “They sorted me themselves, said I was the en-a-body-mans of a Hufflepuff,” You sounded out the word, some words were a little more difficult for you to say, still not entirely used to speaking English after years of speaking mermish beneath the waters. 

“Embodiment?” He chuckled, affection filling his grey eyes making them glisten like the river-stones you had been collecting from the river banks. He watched as slowly drying wisps of your hair swept across your cheeks, caressing them like he so desperately wished he could. He would never say it to you though. Terrified of your reaction. Of course he was, in himself, conflicted. He had been dating Cho Chang for a while now, and while he cared for the raven haired beauty from the neighbouring house, he couldn’t quite get over his feelings for the innocent Maledictus that lived in the lake just beyond the school grounds. 

“Yes that’s what I said,” You waved your hand, blushing at the correction. “Anyway, what I’m here for is to tell you about the second task!” You whisper-yelled, pulling him to the side, away from the hustle and bustle of the other students. 

“How do you know what the second task is?” 

“Because it’s me Ced!” He furrowed his brows, confused by your phrasing. “That egg you got from the first task? It’s mermish. There’s been whispers around the village for a few days now, I don’t know much, but I can tell you that you’re going to be in the lake for a long while.” You hated the thought. You had remembered telling the Hufflepuff about the bodies you had dragged from the lake. Even when there wasn’t an event on, there were many students that would go swimming too far or too deep and lose their lives. The Black Lake was not one to foolishly meddle with. 

Cedric had assured you that there was nothing to worry about, but you could see the flash of fear in his eyes at the mention of being in the lake for longer than twenty minutes. You silently vowed to yourself to do anything in your power to help him through the task though. You couldn’t, no, you wouldn’t lose him to the lake. 

When the day of the task came, you were unsure of what to do. Obviously, you didn’t want to get Cedric disqualified from the tournament, or all of his hard work would have been in vain. Fighting off that dragon was no easy feat. But you didn’t want to leave him completely alone in the water. You knew Harry was competing too, but you had also heard that Neville had provided him with some Gillyweed, and whilst its effects are a little unpredictable, you weren't worried. 

“You know you shouldn’t be getting involved with this Diggory boy.” Your mother called from just beyond the rocks.

“He’s a good person mum-”

“They all say that. They all act like they would walk the earth for you, but in reality, they would drop you the moment they have thoughts of you becoming a burden.”

“Yeah, well Ced isn’t like that. You’d know that if you actually took the time out of your busy schedule of moping around the kelp to properly meet him-”

“Do you have any idea who his father is Y/N? Amos Diggory is a very proud man. He will not settle on having a Maledictus as a wife for his precious son.”

“I didn’t ask for this mum! None of us did. But I sure as hell won’t let it define me and everything I do in life. If I am destined to be stuck underwater for the rest of my life, I would sure as hell love to experience life to the fullest before I lose it.”

“It will break you. It broke me.”

“I’m not you, mother.” You whispered, turning away from her and swimming off further into the lake to await the arrival of the champions.

About half an hour into the task, you had managed to locate where they were keeping the champion’s treasure. And you were shocked to say the least. For the ‘treasure’ the village folk had whispered about, wasn’t diamonds or gold. It was people. You were almost horrified at the emotional manipulation these games were playing with the students, the torment of having to try and rescue a loved one from the bottom of the lake; all whilst evading the things that posed a threat to them, trying to keep their charms working and all whilst being against the clock.

It was cruel.

You waited for what seemed like the longest time, not doubting Cedric’s ability to get past the first lot of Grindylows or even his charms skills. But you didn’t trust what might happen once he recovered Cho who was floating in the water. You felt slightly hurt that Cho was the one deemed as Cedric’s ‘treasure’, and your mother's words rang within your ears. It would be more trouble than it’s worth for them to try and capture you. Also, Cedric had been very publicly dating the Ravenclaw student. You had no ill feelings towards the girl, none at all. All of the times you have met, which have been seldom, she was always lovely. Her bright, yet soft voice dancing in the air. Her timid demeanour was very comforting. She was soft, delicate and entirely enticing. You could understand why Cedric was interested in her. They did make a lovely couple. 

It was a shame they had been arguing a lot as of late. Both Cedric and Cho had confided in you about their relationship troubles. The pair of them not being entirely sure whether they were meant to be. They cared for one another, but they weren’t sure whether their romance had run its course. You didn’t dare hold a bias to their troubles. It would be unfair of you to take advantage of a situation like that. No. Instead, like the good friend you were, encouraged them to talk it out between themselves and trusted that this was just a rough patch and they would be right as rain by next week.

Finally, you saw someone emerge from the kelp just beyond the village centre. It was Harry. He looked almost as confused as you were when seeing the students in the water. Ron, Hermoine, Cho and Gabrielle Delacour. She could only imagine the kind of internal battle Harry was currently facing. Ron and Hermoine were his best friends, he had quite the flaming crush on Cho, and Fleur had not yet arrived to collect her younger sister. 

Swimming closer to the boy, you placed a hand on his shoulder making him jump slightly. When he saw it was you he calmed down, you nodded towards the ropes tying the students down to the bottom of the lake. Harry nodded in understanding, reaching to untie Ron first. You noticed the other merfolk drawing closer, and you knew you were in for a lecture once the task was over for interfering.  You guarded Harry, worried more of the Grindylows may work their way closer and drag him down into the depths. You tried to stop him as he reached for Hermoine, but one of the merfolk got their first. 

They aimed a spear towards his neck in warning, “You must only take one,” They sneered, their long hair floating in front of their face. 

“But she’s my friend too!” Harry argued. You placed a hand on his arm and shook your head.

“Only one Harry, I know it’s cruel but someone will come for Hermoine.” You tried to reassure the Gryffindor. He sighed softly, looking back over between Ron and Hermoine. That was until you watched the mermaids scatter, spinning around you and Harry both noticed the shark head swimming towards you at a rapid pace. You weren’t scared as such. You knew these waters like the back of your hand, and you were sure there were definitely no sharks here. 

Your thoughts were confirmed when the shark headed figure swam past the pair of you, biting through the thick rope that held Hermoine. It was the Durmstrang boy, you couldn’t quite remember his name. Krun? Krud? Oh well it didn’t matter. You were still looking for Cedric. The shark man pulled the girl along, dragging her back up towards the surface. From said direction came a flash of yellow, making a smile stretch across your face.

“Finally, where have you been?” You asked, moving backwards in the water slightly. Cedric didn’t answer, only flashing you a small smile before tapping his watch, Harry nodded, the three of you knowing that time was growing short. You moved back as Cedric cast a spell, splicing the rope and letting Cho free. He took her arm and waved at you before heading towards the surface. 

“Come on Harry, there isn’t much time left.” You told the boy, he shook his head.

“I can’t just leave her here,” He pleaded, motioning towards Gabrielle. He was right. Fleur still hadn’t made an appearance. You had just hoped she had been pulled out of the water and hadn’t drowned. 

“Okay, but we’ve got to be quick,” Harry nodded, casting the same spell as Cedric, setting Gabrielle loose. You quickly swam over, taking the French girl into your arms and lead the way towards the surface. You could hear the screams of protest from the merfolk, you were so getting a lecture late. Tension started to bubble in your chest as you neared the kelp, knowing the Grindylows couldn’t be far. Making sure Harry was behind you, you continued on. 

But as soon as Harry breached the edge of the kelp, they came for him. Scratchy limbs and tentacles wrapping themselves around his limbs dragging him down. He let go of Ron, pushing him over towards you. “Get them to the surface!” He yelled, the water making his voice sound funny.

“But what about you?”

“Just go!” He yelled again. You complied, taking both Ron’s and Gabrielle’s hand and speeding towards the surface. It was no hardship for you, your large tail making gliding through the water so smooth. Just before you reached the surface, you pushed the pair up; knowing you couldn’t be seen or Harry would be disqualified. You waited for a moment, making sure they surfaced, and swam away before you dove back down in search of Harry.

You could vaguely see the boy, still being attacked by Grindylows. Racing down there, you were able to sweep a few of them off of the boy. Just enough for him to reach his wand up into the water. “ASCENDIO!” He cried, and just like that the boy went propelling through the water, breaching the surface like a torpedo and landing back on the dock.

“So when are you asking Cho to the Yule ball?” You asked Cedric as the pair of you walked through the school grounds. 

“I, um, we’re not going to the ball together,” Cedric trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck in awkwardness. You paused where you stood, Cedric not realising for a moment that you weren’t still walking beside him.

“What? Why not? You two would look amazingggg,” You dragged out your last word to further emphasise how strongly you felt on the matter.

“We broke up the day you told me about the task,” He started, looking down at the ground “We both decided it’d be best,” You looked at the boy in confusion. You had thought they were getting back on track. He hadn’t let anything on to you that day. You should’ve been able to tell, or something. You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach. Cedric had just broken up with his girlfriend and you had been rambling incorrect words at him, like an idiot. 

“Cho had started to notice that I wasn’t entirely devoted to her. I feel awful about hurting her, but she found out I had feelings for someone else. I didn’t want to admit it to myself at first, but the longer I denied it the stronger those feelings got.”

“Oh?” Was all you could muster, the sinking feeling growing deeper and deeper. How stupid you had been to think that Cedric could be interested in you in the slightest. I mean look at him. The Hufflepuff Heartthrob and now heart-breaker it seemed. You were just a washed up maledictus, who would one day be just a forgotten memory when you were finally bound to the lake. 

“She’s amazing. She’s smart, yet totally clueless about the smallest things. She stumbles over her words in the cutest way, and when she laughs? It feels like it's warming my soul. She’s a Hufflepuff too, so we don’t have to worry about sneaking around, although she would probably prefer we would. I’ve never met her mother, but if given the chance, I would love to convince her how much I love her daughter and that I would do anything just to make her happy,” He sounded as if he was floating. The joy coming from his voice, made your head sink lower and lower until you could not take your eyes off of the ground. 

“Wow, uh, she sounds amazing Ced,” You muttered, not really knowing what to say. Because in all honesty, she did. She sounded like Cedric’s dream girl, and by the way he talked about her he knew it too. Cedric paused for a moment, looking back to notice you trailing behind him. He couldn’t miss the solemn expression on your face, he frowned for a moment. He hated seeing you sad. But then he smiled in realisation.

That smiled soon turned into a fit of giggles, slowly becoming louder and louder until you looked up. Cocking your head to the side, you were confused. “Is something funny?” You asked, looking down at yourself and then around the area, trying to locate the source of his amusement.

“You are so bloody clueless,” He whispered, coming to stand in front of you. You raised your eyebrows, still not getting what he meant. But from here, you noticed how smooth his skin was. The faint rosy blush of his cheeks made him look even more angelic. The soft breeze ruffled his honey-brown locks, always perfectly styled to give him that ‘boyfriend’ look. 

Cedric smiled looking down at you. He watched those gorgeous eyes glisten in the sunlight, plump lips looking irresistibly kissable. He watched as wisps of your hair swept across your cheeks, caressing them like he so desperately wished he could. 

Until finally, after so long…

He did. 

Reaching a tender hand up to cup your soft cheek, you leaned into his touch; the warmth from his palm comforting and addicting. Everything about Cedric was entirely comforting and addicting. From his homely scent of cinnamon, brown sugar and honey, to the small chuckles that turn into loud thunders of laughter that make your stomach do flips. Flips like they were currently doing and the thought of him being so close. 

Looking up at him through your eyelashes, you froze in place, not daring to move and ruin the moment. “I have loved you ever since I saw you sat on that stupid rock you love so much. I met the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen, and I was so distracted I walked right into a tree,” Cedric laughed, the memory made you giggle too. The first meeting you had with Cedric had been the best way you have ever been introduced to anyone.

“And instead of leaving, you just laughed. You laughed so bloody hard that you ended up falling off the rock and into the lake. It was then, that was the exact moment I knew I was screwed. It was that moment that I knew that no one else would be able to compare. I don’t want to find anyone else, I don’t care if in ten years time I have to carry you around in your own luxury tank. I love you Y/N Y/L/N, and I would do anything to make you happy,” 

You were silent for a moment, the sinking feeling turning into the most boisterous of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. THE Cedric Diggory had just confessed his undying love for you. For you. He mistook your silence for rejection. Looking away from you for a moment. He went to move his hand, but you placed yours on top of it, keeping it firmly lay upon your cheek. He opened and closed his mouth like a guppy for a second, not knowing what to say. Before he could even utter a word, you did what you had wanted to do since the day you met the Hufflepuff Heartthrob.

Until finally, after so long…

You did.

You leaned up as far as you could, other hand coming to circle the back of Cedric’s head pulling him down. His lips met yours, and everything fell into place. Hearts beating like crazy within your chests. Breaths short. But everything, after so, so long. 

Was finally perfect.