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pines-troz · 4 years

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Those We Hold Dear - Animaniacs/Pinky and The Brain Oneshot

Summary: An introverted Brain finds himself feeling lost during the holiday party on the Warner Movie Lot. He manages to find some respite upon finding a pool table in the abandoned rec room. When Yakko unexpectedly invites himself in, the two engage in some casual conversation, then slowly open themselves up as they talk about their loved ones.

This story includes mild doses of Brinky and Non-Binary Wakko with he/they pronouns.

Word Count: 7,969

TW: Brief mentions of trauma, animal testing, and alcohol

Includes spoilers from the Animaniacs Reboot and references to the Pinky and The Brain spin-off cartoon.

Special thanks to @themurphyzone for beta reading!

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714374

Beginning AN: This fic was written because there aren’t enough stories where Pinky and The Brain interact with the Warners, and I feel like there’s so much untapped potential in terms of interesting character dynamics and I wanted to explore that with this story. I hope you enjoy this self-indulgent and very heartwarming fanfic.

As Christmas time drew near, The Warner Brothers movie lot was bustling with the spirit of the holiday season. Studios were dressed in Christmas decorations, and classic Christmas songs played over the speakers. And in the heart of the studio, the WB office was holding a special holiday party for the cast and crew of the Animaniacs reboot. Pinky and the Brain were among the invited guests, and the two mice strolled through the movie lot together as they made their way to the party.

Brain shook his head, still in disbelief that he and Pinky worked as part-time actors, and even more so that they were asked to return for the Animaniacs reboot after the original show had been off the air for over twenty years.

The small mouse remembered back in the early 1990s, when one of his initial plans for world domination involved him and Pinky breaking into the Warner Bros. studio to broadcast his homemade propaganda film. But while they infiltrated the studio, they were spotted by a small group of writers. When Brain explained in earnest that he and Pinky were ‘genetically altered lab mice trying to take over the world’, the writers were so amused and inspired that they brought the lab mice over to meet the studio executives and were hired right on the spot.

While having to act out failed plans to take over the world felt like a slap to the face at times, Brain quickly found the positive aspects of working on a popular television show. He and Pinky worked on set a few days a week (which saved them from having to undergo more painful experiments from the scientists at Acme Labs), they got along well with the other cast, crew, and various workers on the Warner movie lot. The mice also received truck loads of fan mail and fan art from viewers (and they put in the effort to express their gratitude by writing back to as many letters as they could), attended conventions even long after the show went off the air, and were invited to cast parties.

As much as Brain enjoyed seeing Pinky having a ball at the cast parties, he himself admittedly detested large social gatherings. If world domination was at stake, then Brain would be more motivated to be sociable; rubbing elbows with politicians, manipulating powerful individuals to do his bidding, and being one step closer to planetary conquest.

But Brain had no schemes up his sleeve. No ulterior motives, hidden agendas, or feasible plans for world conquest tonight. The mouse had put off all plans to take over the world off the table during the holiday season after having read Pinky’s unsent letter to Santa that fateful Christmas. From that moment on, Brain vowed to ignore his own lofty ambitions during the holidays and to put more focus on making Pinky happy.

The mice made sure to dress appropriately for the holiday party. Brain donned a red sweater and dark green pants. Simple festive colors, but nothing overly garish. Pinky, however, went above and beyond in his party attire, as he wore a green dress with candy cane prints all over and sparkly red shoes. Once they walked past the office doors, they approached the elevator. Brain retrieved his limb-enhancing device and pressed the button, which opened up the doors, and the two mice entered the elevator. Brain used the device again to hit the button for floor nine, and the elevator moved upwards.

“Oh this is going to be so much fun, Brain!” Pinky chirped, flapping his hands with excitement.

“Well if you’re happy, then I’m happy.” Brain affirmed, keeping a calm and orderly demeanor.

Once they reached the right floor, they exited the elevator and approached the large event space where the party was held. As they approached the doorway, they were immediately greeted by Yakko, who wore a red and white striped blazer in addition to his usual brown slacks.

“Hey, Pinky and the Brain!” Yakko greeted as he waved at them. “How are the fan favorites doing?”

“We’re doing well for ourselves, Yakko-” Brain’s response was interrupted when he felt a giant wet smooch on his left cheek. He looked over his left to see Pinky smiling at him. The smaller mouse looked at his roommate with a shocked and irritated expression.

“Pinky!” Brain berated his companion, as his cheeks began to flare up. “I told you, no frivolous displays of affection outside of the lab!”

“Poit! I’m sorry Brain, but, you were standing right under the mistletoe, and I just couldn’t help myself!” Pinky explained with a joyous giggle as Brain wiped off the saliva from the side of his face. The intelligent mouse looked up above only to find that dreaded yuletide plant taped to the doorframe.

“Hey sibs! The power couple just arrived!” Yakko addressed his younger siblings. Brain fumed at the eldest Warner boy, who shrugged and flashed a playful smile back at the mouse.

Dot arrived on cue, followed by Wakko, who greedily shoveled all the contents of the plate of appetizers (and the plate) into their mouth. The younger Warners dressed appropriately for the festive occasion. Wakko wearing an oversized blue sweater with a sequin snowman, and their iconic backwards red cap had elf ears taped to each side. In addition to her pink skirt, Dot wore a white sweater with a colorful Christmas tree and a reindeer antler headband.

“Pinky!” Dot greeted happily, skipping merrily towards the taller mouse. “Oh you look so adorable!”

Pinky jumped for joy as the Warner sister picked him up. “Oh, why thank you Dot. Zort! I actually had a little help from Brain. He used his knit-o-matic machine to put the dress together!”

Dot turned her attention over to Brain, who was still standing beneath her. “Hello Brain! Don’t go thinking that I forgot about you.” She said, giving a couple pats to his large head.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Brain bantered, but lost his guard when the middle Warner sibling scooped him into their hands.

“Oh what joy, Brain is here!” Wakko cheered, lifting Brain up in the air as he twirled around. “I was thinking about going around the movie lot and belching my favorite Christmas carols later tonight. Would you care to join me?”

“A tempting offer, but I’m afraid I have to decline.” Brain gently rejected.

“Okay, but the offer still stands if you change your mind!” Wakko insisted.

“Very well. Now would you be so kind as to put me down? I’m going to head on over to the refreshments table.” The mouse said.

“Say, I was going to grab some snacks too! And maybe we can eat over at the table together!” Wakko proclaimed, carrying the mouse as he made their way to the refreshments table.

“Well, I would be delighted to keep you company.” Brain answered honestly.

The mouse tried to keep his favoritism hidden, but of all the cast members he worked with, he enjoyed being with the Warners the most. While they may be a nuisance to the humans on the movie lot, they were quite friendly with most of the animal actors on the set. Brain was quite enamored with Yakko’s comedic banter, Wakko’s silliness, and Dot’s wit and charm, and while they playfully teased him on occasions, it was never out of any malice. But the one aspect he enjoyed the most was that they were never judgemental of him or Pinky.

Brain picked up the smallest plate from the stack and started picking out one of each cheese, a deviled egg, the second-to-last pig in a blanket, two baby carrots, and a jumbo shrimp. Wakko swooped in from behind, taking the last the last pig in a blanket and gobbled it up.

Brain looked over at the line of wine glasses and the various wine bottles behind them and figured that he could go for a nice glass of red wine. Despite his short stature, Brain found an easier way to access the alcohol as he spotted Ralph the security guard (who may or may not be off-duty), grabbing a handful of jumbo shrimp.

“Pardon me, Ralph.” Brain addressed the dim-witted security guard.

Ralph turned his head and looked around for a few moments before spotting Brain. “Duh, oh hi Blaine.”

“Actually, it’s Brain.” The small mouse corrected. “Could you do me a small favor and pour me a glass of the pinot noir.”

The security guard looked over at the wine bottles, scratching his head in bewilderment.

“It’s the reddish bottle with the picture of purple grapes on it” Brain curtly explained in layman’s terms

“Oh, uh right!” The imbecilic security guard affirmed. He grabbed the specific bottle and poured a little too much wine into the glass, filling it almost to the top. The mouse did not care that he had an excessive amount of wine. Lord knows that he needs enough alcohol in his system to get through this social gathering.

“Thank you, my good man.” Brain said politely.

“But wait a minute, how are you gonna drink from the glass?” The security guard asked.

“Already accounted for.” Brain reached into his pocket and pulled out a green swirly straw custom made for himself.

Wakko walked over to Brain, carrying two full trays of appetizers. The middle Warner sibling marveled at the swirly straw. “You have great tastes in straws.” He carefully picked up Brain and placed him on top of their red hat. Wakko managed to carry his own plates, Brain’s plate and the wine glass with relative ease as he waltzed over to the table.

“Thank you, Wakko.” Brain said gratefully.

“Your welcome! Oh, I was wondering if you wanted to hear about how I found myself in Paris?” The middle child asked. “I want to tell someone else besides my siblings about all the fun adventures I had.”

“Yes, I would love to hear some amusing anecdotes from your vacation.” Brain replied. The intelligent mouse was well aware that Wakko can be very passionate and talkative when it came to their interests, so he decided to validate the middle child with attentive ears.

Brain listened intently as Wakko continued to talk about their trip. The intelligent mouse felt relieved that he wasn’t the one who had to initiate the conversation. He could simply provide Wakko his undivided attention and listen to them reminisce over their trip to Paris. This was splendid!

“I visited the Eiffel Tower, The Louvre, and Notre Dame, but only from the outside.” Wakko said wistfully.

“The fire of Notre Dame was awfully devastating.” Brain added. “Forgive me if this comes off as a boast, but when Pinky and I visited Paris years ago we were fortunate enough to go inside the cathedral and climb the tower.”

“Really!” Wakko exclaimed, who was rather excited by Brain’s vacation story. “Oh, do you have any pictures?”

“Well of course! Just let me just find the vacation album on my phone.” Brain said, as he tried to retrieve his smartphone from his pocket.

“Oh, I forgot to mention how wonderful the crepes were!” Wakko added. “I had strawberry crepes, banana and nutella crepes, some egg and cheese crepes,”

But Wakko’s infodumping came to a crashing halt when Yakko stormed over to the table. “Wakko, did you take the last pig in a blanket?” The Warner brother interrogated.

The middle Warner sibling glanced guiltily towards Brain then back at their sibling. “Maybe?” The eldest Warner still held his suspicious glare at him, until Wakko finally gave in. “Yeah…”

“I knew it!” Yakko declared as he proceeded to put his sibling in a headlock, dragging them away from the table and into the center of the room. Wakko broke free and a battle between the older Warner siblings broke out.

“Oh, this oughta be rich!” Dot devilishly commented. She quickly grabbed her smartphone from her pocket and filmed the action.

Pinky was thrilled by the sudden action and further enabled the sibling rivalry. “Go, go! Give ‘em the ol’ one-two!” The mouse laughed maniacally as he punched the air. “Narf!”

Brain ruefully shook his head at the sibling shenanigans that took place. The small mouse knew better than to get involved, lest he wanted to be squished like a pancake or smacked so hard that he would crash onto the drywall. He found himself all alone again. He finished up his plate of appetizers when he noticed the new CEO, Rita Nortia, taking her place on the other side of the table.

The mouse suddenly felt compelled to speak with her. After all, she did play a significant part in hiring him and Pinky back for the reboot when they could have been cast off like the majority of his fellow cast members from the original show.

“Alright Brain, this is going to be a long party and you have to at least try to be sociable.” He told himself. The mouse then took a considerably long sip of wine to work the courage to speak to his new boss.

“Hello, Ms. Nortia.” Brain addressed, trying his best to sound friendly.

The CEO looked over at the mouse with an indifferent expression. “Wait a minute, I know you, you’re one of the mice playing second fiddle to those pesky Warners….Bran, is it?”

“Actually, it’s The Brain,” The mouse corrected, but suddenly changed his tone as he did not want to come off as bossy in front of his boss. “but I’m perfectly content with being addressed as Brain, if that’s most convenient for you. A-and I wanted to thank you again for including Pinky and myself in the reboot.”

“Sure, sure. You two were one of the more memorable parts of the original show.” Rita Norita replied, sounding rather unenthused. After a moment of awkward silence between the two, the CEO spoke up again. “Was there anything else you wanted to say?”

Brain was sweating nervously, feeling like a total waste of space. He could tell that she was a busy woman who was more occupied with work-related interests. The mouse tried his hardest to come up with an interesting topic of discussion. The weather? No, too cliche. The hottest Netflix shows? No way. He couldn’t bring up the competition in front of his boss. Those ridiculous Tik Tok videos that Pinky wouldn’t stop blabbering about? If he didn’t understand the appeal of those, what were the chances that the CEO would. The only other thing he could possibly bring up was-

“So, how about those sports?” Brain asked with a nervous smile.

Rita Norita stared blankly at the mouse. “What about them.”

Brain was caught tongue-tied. He didn’t know enough about the current state of any American sports team, so he decided to take a leap of faith and try to discuss the one sport he loved.

“Well, uh, would you be interested in hearing about the beauty and intricacies of rhythmic gymnastics?” Brain asked with a sheepish smile.

As the CEO was about to give another dry response, she was interrupted when a group of sharply dressed business people walked over to her.

“Ms. Norita, we have some very important business information to discuss with you.” One of them said.

“Finally, a riveting topic of discussion.” She exulted, immediately getting up from her seat. She shot a quick glance at the mouse. “You’ll have to excuse me, but I have more pressing matters to tend to.”

The CEO left the table with the other white-collar workers, leaving Brain to his own devices. The mouse propped his head up as he stared into his empty plate of appetizers, desperately trying to forget the mortifying conversation. If dying from embarrassment was possible, then Brain would already be in Heaven surrounded by an angelic choir of Pinkys.

“Hey Brain!”

Upon hearing the cockney accent he was so familiar with, he looked over his shoulder only to find Pinky taking off his dress and diving straight into the punch bowl. Through the clear glass, Pinky was happily swimming underneath the punch for a few moments. Once he broke through the surface, the tall mouse was giggling contentedly and he propped himself up on the side of the bowl to talk to his roommate.

“Oh Brain, you should try this!” The buck-toothed mouse called out. “The water is so refreshing!”

“No thank you, Pinky.” Brain replied, shielding his face from his roommate. He took another peek at the taller mouse. Pinky looked like a complete buffoon, but he looked like he was having the time of his life, swimming in the punch bowl without a care in the world. Brain, on the other hand, felt completely lost and isolated despite being surrounded by a sea of party-goers.

Brain walked away, trying his best to participate in small talk. Things seemed to look up when the Mime arrived.

“I suppose making small talk with someone who can’t talk back is better than not making small talk at all.” Brain pondered.

“You there, Mime!” Brain approached the silent performer. The Mime looked back at Brain and smiled back, giving him a friendly wave. The mouse’s self-esteem was starting to rebound.

“Say, do you want to hear a science joke?” Brain asked. The Mime gave an eager nod in response.

“Okay, well here it goes: One tectonic plate was walking along, bumps into another tectonic plate and said ‘Oops, sorry, my fault!’” Brain began to laugh heartily at his own joke, closing his eyes as he chuckled.

Once his laughter wore off, Brain looked over at the Mime simply shook his head while wearing a confused frown, shaking his head. The mouse assumed that the Mime did not get the joke.

The Brain felt defeated and gave a beleaguered sigh. “Well, I apologize for wasting your time.” The small mouse placed his hands into his pockets and walked off.

The intelligent mouse felt lost. With no plan for world domination to focus on, there was no important reason to mingle with the other guests. He decided to find the Warners and seek companionship from them. But he was disappointed when he witnessed the three keeping Ralph occupied in an intense game of ‘Monkey in the Middle’. The Warners wore mischievous smiles as they threw the security guard’s cap around much to the frustration of the bumbling officer. Brain could not bring himself to join in their merriment. Without his robotic man-suit, he could not possibly bring any meaningful contribution to the fun and would only stick out as a useless fifth wheel.

And he did not have the courage to try to strike up a friendly conversation with the other party-goers. His brief talks with Rita Norita and The Mime were proof that even when he shared his interests and musings to them, they could never reciprocate because they’re not on the same intellectual wavelength as he was.

No, he was only fooling himself. Perhaps the reason why felt high and dry was that he just could not relate to other people.

Brain watched Pinky, now back in his Christmas-themed dress, entertaining a few guests with his spit bubbles. The small group laughed at his ridiculous display. The taller mouse was completely in his element, charming people with his ‘fun-fun silly-willy’ antics. That feeble-minded fool made it look so easy.

“Perhaps Pinky is better off with other people.”

Brain furiously shook his head at the awful thought. “No, no, no. You’re just exhausted from attempting to socialize, that’s all.” He told himself. “Yes. All I need is a break, a place where I could temporarily wind down and recharge my energy before returning to the festivities.”

Brain walked down the hall in search for a place to ponder.

As he wandered down the hallway, he discovered an empty recreation room complete with a billiards table, a dart board, a stack of used board games, and a leather sofa. The pool table was pristine, with the fifteen balls gathered in their triangular shape and the cue ball standing on the other side. Brain decided to take the opportunity to play a game of pool against himself. The mouse picked up an unsharpened pencil from the bureau, climbed up the leg of the pool table and made his way to the top.

The mouse hopped off the wooden edge and onto the green walked baize, the tender felt brushing up against his feet with each step. Once he approached the cue ball, the mouse used the unsharpened end of the pencil and struck the white ball as hard as he could. He was not surprised that the cue ball lightly struck the top third of the fifteen balls ever so slightly.

“This is going to take a while…” Brain muttered to himself. “Fortunately, I don’t have anything better to do.”

The mouse observed the playing field, and noticed a solid red ball lingering near a corner pocket. Charging his pencil against the cue ball much harder this time, he saw the white ball glide down the table, hitting the red ball right into the pocket. Now all he had to do was strike the other solid-color balls into the pockets.

Fifteen minutes had passed since he started his solitary game of pool, and he only had three balls left. Wiping off the beads of sweat from his forehead, he looked over at the clock that was perched above the sofa. The mouse doubted that the other party-goers would be aware of his absence. Maybe Pinky would be too busy mingling with the other guests to even realize that he was gone.

“Some party, huh?”

Brain was startled at the sudden inquiry, his ears perking upwards. He turned around only to find Yakko Warner leaning against the doorway.

“Yakko….” The mouse grumbled. He feared that the boy would continue teasing him by bringing up the incident under the mistletoe. “Shouldn’t you be off terrorizing a certain psychiatrist?”

“Oh, you mean Dr. Scratchinsniff? He won’t be dropping by until around seven.” The eldest Warner sibling explained as he waltzed into the room. “So what are you doing here all by your lonesome?”

“As a reserved and introverted soul, social gatherings aren’t my cup of tea.” Brain confessed. “If world domination was on the line, then I would be more involved. But being forced to make idle prattle with co-workers in a secluded space can be quite tiresome.”

“I gotcha.” Yakko nodded, seeming to understand Brain’s plight.

“And how did someone as sociable as yourself wander astray from the festivities?” Brain inquired.

“I had to use the john.” Yakko answered frankly, pointing his thumb towards the door. “I was going to return to the party, but I heard the sound of a pool game going on and just had to investigate.”

“Excellent detective work, Hercule Yakko.” Brain remarked, to which Yakko chuckled in response.

“Say, can I join in?” The eldest Warner asked as he walked over to the racks. “It’s been a while since I played pool and you look like you could use a little company.”

“The more the merrier.” Brain dryly responded as he struck the cue ball with his pencil.

Yakko found a suitable cue stick and walked over beside Brain. He observed the pool table, noting the striped balls outnumbered the solid balls.

“So I’ll be aiming for the striped ones then?” Yakko asked.

“Correct.” Brain responded defeatedly. While he wished to finish up his solo game, he didn’t have it in him to tell the eldest Warner to leave.

Yakko carefully aimed his cue rack at the cue ball and fired away. He managed to hit two striped balls straight into the pocket. He then made another successful shot and hit two more striped balls into the opposite pocket. Feeling confident and theatrical, Yakko turned around and managed to hit another striped ball into a pocket without looking. He looked over at the playing field and back at The Brain. “Well, you got trouble my friend.” He quipped.

Brain looked up at Yakko for a moment before looking back at the pool with a grimace. After a moment of awkward silence, the eldest Warner spoke up again “Get it? Because we’re playing pool and I was referring to-”

“Yes, yes, I’ve seen The Music Man before Yakko, there’s no need to explain the joke.” Brain interrupted.

“So was the joke not funny?” Yakko asked with a twinge of worry.

“The joke was perfectly fine.” Brain assured upon noticing the boy’s sudden anxiousness. “I’m simply frustrated with my current state in the game and fear that the outcome won’t be in my favor.”

“Oh, is it because you’re a mouse? I can try to make some accommodations so that we’re playing on even grounds.” Yakko kindly suggested.

“No, no. The last thing I want is to be patronized and pitied.” Brain snapped, sounding more harsh than he intended.

Yakko backed off upon seeing the mouse’s frustration.“Okay, whatever floats your boat.” He replied defensively.

Brain’s face softened a bit, feeling guilty that he was a bit too hard on the boy. “If it’s any consolation, I have problems with my joke deliveries as well.” Brain lamented. “I tried telling The Mime a science joke earlier, but it fell flat.”

“Which one?” Yakko queried out of curiosity.

Brain fought his insecurities and mustered up the courage to tell the joke again. “One tectonic plate was walking around, he bumps into another tectonic plate and said-”

“‘Oops, I’m sorry, my fault’!” Yakko enthusiastically joined in as the punchline was delivered. The boy clapped his hands and started chuckling. “Ah, natural disaster humor.”

Brain softly smiled. Yakko missed this time around and Brain hopped back on the table, figuring out the best course of action to keep up with Yakko’s pool playing. After a couple minutes of playing in companionable silence, the intelligent mouse decided to throw an ice-breaker question to liven the mood.

“So Yakko, how have you and your siblings been doing lately?” The Brain asked in earnest.

“We’ve been doing swell!” Yakko answered in a chipper tone. “I mean, sure, we had our fair of challenges adapting to the current trends after being frozen in suspended animation for twenty-two years, but what can ya do?”

Brain looked a little concerned at the boy. The last time he and Pinky saw the Warners was in 1998, when they attended a cast party after filming of Wakko’s Wish had wrapped. During those years, Brain was consumed with his contributions to the age of the internet while Pinky attended his therapy sessions. All that time spent focusing on his world domination scheme and he forgot about his fellow cast members and all the good times they shared together. When Brain and Pinky received the fateful phone call from Warner Brothers that they and the Warners would be the only returning cast members for the Animaniacs reboot, he was worried that they would be mad at him for not keeping in touch. But when they arrived on set, the Warners were simply happy to see them again. But the Brain lost his train of thought when he heard Yakko speak up again.

“Not to mention the staggering amount of pop culture we’ve missed out on.” Yakko added. “Hey, did you know that there were two movie adaptations of How The Grinch Stole Christmas within the span of two decades?”

“Oh I’m well aware of that. Pinky actually dragged me to see both movies in the theaters.” Brain recalled. “And as you would expect, the feeble-minded fool thought they were cinematic masterpieces.”

“Outside of trying to stay relevant, we’ve been doing some fun sibling projects on the side, like this sculpture of Giuseppe Acrimboldo made entirely out of fruit!” Yakko happily reminisced.

“You mean, the famous sixteenth century Italian mannerist portrait artist Giuseppe Acrimboldo?” Brain inquired enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I managed to get a picture before that awful bun infestation got to him.” Yakko grabbed his phone and showed a picture of their sculpture.

“That’s quite impressive.” Brain marveled. While the mouse was not present during the awful bun infestation, he had heard stories of the incident from his co-workers. He could only imagine Pinky having a field day with the mass quantities of bunnies.

“I even had a whole song written about him too!” Yakko added.

“Well, I’m always eager to hear another one of your classic educational ditties, Yakko.” Brain encouraged. “I’m all ears.”

“I would if I could, but I forgot the majority of the lyrics.” Yakko forlornly replied. He picked up his cue rack and strategically planned his next move.

“Oh..” Bran uttered. The mouse tried to find another topic to bring up, but couldn’t help but think about the Warner siblings being locked away from the world for the second time. The mouse tried to bring up the topic as delicately as he could.

“Forgive me for prying, but can I ask you a question concerning your 22 year absence.” Brain carefully inquired.

“Sure!” Yakko acknowledged as he struck the cue ball, hitting the eight ball into the pocket and winning the game.

“Do you recall anything during your hibernation?” The mouse questioned.

“No, not really. The only thing I could remember was what happened before. After Wakko’s Wish wrapped, some studio bigwigs came up to me and my sibs. We were given the choice to either be cryogenically frozen or to be locked in the tower again. After thinking it over, I decided that being frozen in suspended animation was the better option. And the process wasn’t all that bad. It was like taking a really long nap.” Yakko answered truthfully. “And let me tell you, being frozen was a walk in the park compared to being trapped in the water tower for over sixty years.”

Brain’s ears drooped when he heard the sadness laced in Yakko’s voice.

“I love my sibs and would risk my life for them, but it was really hard having to watch over them without any assistance from the adults for decades.” The boy confessed. “I mean, I managed to get by just fine, but it was neither a bed or roses nor a pleasure cruise. During those years I had to come up with different ways to entertain my sibs and keep them occupied. I didn’t want them to start thinking about whether or not people missed them or were even aware that they’ve been cooped up for so long. One could say being trapped in that tower felt like-”

“Being an animal in a cage.” Brain quietly finished, feeling a deep sense of empathy for the boy.

Yakko stared at the mouse, amazed by how understanding he was of his past trauma. “Well, yeah…”

The Brain drew in a long breath and exhaled. “Believe it or not, I understand where you’re coming from.” He confessed, sitting on the edge of the pool table and holding the pencil in his arms.

The mouse could not believe what he was doing. In any other circumstance, Brain would never open up to his co-workers about his feelings or the past traumas he endured. Opening up meant being vulnerable. Being vulnerable meant feeling helpless and without control. He gripped the pencil tightly at the thought of not being completely in charge of himself. But Brain fought against his need to put up defensive barriers and decided to reveal his miserable and pitiful past if it meant providing the boy with some sense of solidarity.

“I was once a young field mouse who lived a carefree and happy existence with my parents out in the wild.” Brain reminisced. “But I was separated from my family at a tender age when a group of Acme Lab scientists abducted me from my tin-can home. From that day forward, I was imprisoned in the laboratory where I was subjected to cruel, emotionally-scarring experiments and used as fodder in the name of science and human curiosity.” His voice trembled as he exposed his past to the eldest Warner, but he soldiered on.

“The first friend I ever made was a hamster named Snowball, but when we went through the gene splicer, it had different effects on us. I gained advanced intelligence, while Snowball went mad with power, and we had a terrible falling out. But when it seemed that I was doomed to live the rest of my days isolated in the lab…” Brain paused for a moment and then continued. “But one day, a new lab mouse brought over to live with me in my cage. It was at that moment that Pinky entered into my life and...well, the rest is history.” He explained with a sad smile.

Yakko listened in with sympathetic ears. He never thought that anyone could relate to the pain of having his freedom stripped away and being locked against his will. But he also admired the mouse’s courage to tell his story anyways.

“Pinky really was my saving grace.” Brain admitted, aware of the affection in his tone. “His presence made being stuck in the lab more bearable. Sure, he may be imbecilic and dim-witted, but he’s also loyal, compassionate, and the best friend I could ever ask for.” After praising Pinky’s positive aspects, Brain’s smile slowly faded. “But sometimes I wonder why Pinky would want to be my friend, and other times where I feel like I don’t deserve to be his friend.”

“Well, how come?” Yakko cautiously inquired.

“Years ago, I promised Pinky that if I ruled the world, I would make it into a better place. A kinder place for social outcasts and marginalized individuals like him. But after so many years of trying and putting in the work, my destiny is still far from reach. And yet, he’s still standing by my side. It’s just...I don’t know what Pinky sees in me.” Brain sadly explained as he cradled the pencil in his arms. “Perhaps he’s much better off without me…” He sighed, letting the awful confession escape his lips.

Yakko sadly frowned at the downtrodden mouse, but he quickly knew how to cheer him up. “Oh I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“Well why not?” The mouse somberly asked.

“Maybe the reason why Pinky is attached to the hip is because he loves you.” Yakko suggested.

“Perhaps he does. His unquestioning loyalty to me is proof of that.” Brain pondered aloud.

“...and that you love him back.” Yakko added with a sly smile.

“What?” Brain cried out, sharply turning his head to face Yakko. “That’s preposterous! I don’t love Pinky, I merely….tolerate him.”

“Uh huh,” Yakko nodded, not buying his co-worker’s fib. “I guess your toleration must be pretty strong then.”

Yakko placed the cue stick on the side of the pool and walked over towards the mouse.“I mean, who else would sacrifice their chance at world domination on Christmas, go to the depths of h-e-double hockey sticks to save the guy after he sold his soul so you could rule the world, reunite him with his entire family after years of separation, save him from quicksand by embracing your wild side, teach him about the Constitution and upholding the values that make up our country’s democracy, and tend to his aid after the poor guy got pulverized by some crummy humans.” The eldest Warner detailed as he counted all of Brain’s deeds on each finger. Brain’s ears drooped as he heard him recall all of his past heroics when it came to helping the friend he loved so dearly.

“That’s going above and beyond for someone you merely tolerate, don’t you think?” Yakko concluded.

“W-who told you all that?” Brain blurted in disbelief.

“Pinky did.” Yakko answered honestly. “Why, just a few minutes after you left, Pinky started talking about all the great and amazing things you did for him. If you don’t believe me, the proof is in the pudding.” He fished out his phone from his pocket and showed Brain a video, with Pinky’s gleaming smile on the thumbnail. Yakko pressed play.

Pinky was gathered around a few of the party guests on the couch. Wakko and Dot sat closely by his left, and Jay Pac Le East Tha Rapper by his right.

“Poit! And when it came down to choosing the world or me, Brain chose me and decided to compete in rhythmic gymnastics to save my soul!” Pinky explained enthusiastically to his enchanted audience. “Oh you should have seen Brain! He looked so stunning in his marvelous blue spandex, prancing about oh so gracefully with his string-on-a-stick, and he scored a perfect ten! But that awful, no-good Mr. Itch cheated by rigging the competition in his favor and it seemed like Brain and I were doomed to be separated forever!”

Wakko and Dot gasped in shock and instinctively grabbed onto each other for comfort. Even Jay Pac was deeply invested in the story.

“But it turned out that he didn’t deliver on his original promise to give me my radish rose whatchamawhozit, so I was able to be with Brain again!” Pinky happily concluded.

Wakko stood up and applauded. “Oh how I love a happy ending!”

“Wow, my respect for Brain just went through the roof.” Jay Pac commented.

“You know, I never realized how cool Brain was until just now.” Dot admitted.

“He sure is!” Pinky gushed. “Brain is smart, he never gives up on his dreams, he wants what’s best for the world, and he’s the best friend I could ever ask for. Zort! I love him so much, and I know that he loves me too!”

“Pinky, can you tell us another story about The Brain?” Wakko asked enthusiastically, like a child wanting to hear another bedtime story.

“Pretty please, Pinky!!” Dot begged, giving her cutest pout and fluttering her puppy-dog eyes.

“Of course!” Pinky answered gleefully as he leapt up in the air and landed back on the couch. “Oh! I should tell you all about the time he helped me reunite with my mum, my dad, and my sis!”

As the video ended, tears started to pool in Brain’s eyes. He roughly scrubbed them away before they could fall, not allowing himself to become more vulnerable than he already felt. “Perhaps I don’t just tolerate him. Dare I say, I even like Pinky.” Brain half-confessed. He knew that he loved Pinky dearly, but he would never bring himself to verbalize his feelings.

“Actions speak louder than words, buddy.” Yakko retorted. “But I totally get where you’re comin’ from, though. Wakko and Dot mean the world to me.”

“Even though you wrestled your own sibling over something as petty as taking the last of your favorite appetizer?” Brain mentioned sardonically.

“Alright, so I have a problem managing my Cain instinct, guilty as charged.” Yakko answered.

“Sure, we drive each other bonkers sometimes, but at the end of the day, they’re still my sibs and I love them more than they could even know.” The boy smiled as he talked about his dearest siblings.

“But I still can’t help but wonder, what might happen in the future, after the reboot.” Yakko pondered with concern. “What if Wakko and Dot decide to go out in the world and do their own thing? Would they still need me? Would they want me around? And I don’t know how I’d do without ‘em because they’re the only family I’ve got.”

Brain felt his heart go out to Yakko. While the boy can be a nuisance and a smart alec, there was a lot of good in him. But he could also understand the boy’s fears. Yakko was as strongly attached to his siblings and his whole life revolved maintaining that relationship. The mouse pondered to himself until he found the best way to alleviate the boy’s worries.

The small mouse walked over to the eldest Warner brother and gently placed his hand on top of his. “Well, there may come a time when the three of you will go your separate ways and lead independent lives, but no matter how far apart you are, you’ll always maintain that strong familial bond.”

Yakko gave Brain an intrigued look. “What makes you so sure?”

“Pinky and I raised a son together.” Brain answered with a small smile.

“Since when?” Yakko asked with a baffled look on his face.

“It happened back in the late 90s. Roman Numeral One, or Romy for short. I initially planned to make a clone of myself and use him for global conquest, but one of Pinky’s errant toenails was muddled in with my DNA sample, thus creating a clone that modeled after the two of us.” Brain explained, still smiling as he reminisced. “Once Romy reached the age of reason, he departed from the lab and moved on to make a life for himself. Fortunately, Pinky and I are still on good terms with our son, and we would call him every now and again, just to see how he’s doing. And even though our boy is out in the world pursuing his own dreams, we still love him dearly and learned to maintain our familial bond despite the long distance between us.”

“So whatever happens in the future, I’m certain that you and your siblings will still be as thick as thieves.” Brain assured, giving the eldest Warner sibling reassuring pats on his hand. Yakko smiled back at the mouse’s kind gesture.

“But if you’re still uncertain about the future, I’ll guarantee this to you,” Brain added. “If I become the ruler of- no, no. When I become the ruler of the world, my palace doors will always be open for you and your siblings. And if any of you ever feel lost or lonely, Pinky and I will be more than willing to grant you companionship.” Brain offered his small hand out to the boy.

Yakko was eager with the proposition. “Well Brain, I was already rooting for you to take over the world, but now I’m twice as invested! You got yourself a deal!” The eldest Warner enthusiastically shook the mouse’s hand. The Brain gave a hearty chuckle, amazed at the boy’s excitement and encouragement.

“And Brain,” Yakko looked at the small mouse. “I’m really glad we had this talk...and thanks for everything.”

Brain could tell that Yakko rarely opened up about his personal issues and musings to others, so not to trouble them or cause concern. But he could tell just how grateful the boy was for understanding and providing him with the comfort he needed.

“You’re welcome, Yakko.” Brain quietly replied.

“Well, I think that’s enough emotionally heavy conversations for one night.” Yakko commented, trying to sound as laid-back as possible.

“Agreed. You know, I think I’m ready to return to the party and make a more admirable attempt at socializing.” Brain said with confidence.

“That’s the spirit!” Yakko praised, giving him a thumbs up.

As Brain and Yakko were putting away the billiards equipment, they heard three sets of footsteps approaching the rec room. Sure enough, it was Pinky, followed by Wakko and Dot.

“Oh, there you two are! Narf!” Pinky exclaimed.

“So this is where you two have been.” Dot addressed her brother and the mouse.

“Yep, just us guys playing some pool.” Yakko answered half-honestly as he gestured towards his smaller companion. “You could say that we were getting along swimmingly.”

Upon hearing the dad joke, Wakko and Dot retrieved their pun guns and shot their older brother on sight. Brain saw the yellow lasers fly through the room and hit Yakko, causing him to fall over on impact. The mouse looked on with concern.

“I’m fine.” Yakko assured The Brain despite the obvious pain he was in.

Brain returned his attention to his roommate and the other Warner siblings. “So what shenanigans have you three rascals been up to during our absence?” He inquired.

“We gained access to the CEO’s movie screening room!” Dot answered.

“There’s a big screen tv, a comfy leather couch, a snack bar, and everything!” Wakko added enthusiastically.

“Good work sibs!” Yakko complimented as he got back up on his feet.

“Troz! And now that we found you two, we can all go there and watch The Grinch together!” Pinky joyfully declared.

“Which one?” Yakko and The Brain asked in unison, knowing that there were multiple adaptations of the classic story and both secretly hoping that it was the 1966 animated special.

“The animated one, of course!” Pinky cheerfully replied.

“You need to be more specific, Pinky.” Brain added, praying that his friend was referring to the classic television special as opposed to the bland Illumination movie.

“Oh, it’s the one with the Boris Karloff narration and the lovely songs!” Pinky gushed as he hugged himself.

“Thank Heavens.” Brain replied, relieved that his roommate was referring to the former. “We would be delighted to accompany you three, right Yakko?”

“Oh absolutely!” Yakko replied. He carefully picked up Brain and placed him in the palm of his left hand before walking over to the others. He then knelt down and offered Pinky a ride on his right hand, to which he happily accepted.

As Yakko followed his younger siblings to the private theater, he joined his hands together, bridging the divide between the two laboratory mice. Pinky immediately leapt over to Brain, enveloping him in a warm and welcoming hug. Brain decided not to recoil from Pinky’s affection and accepted the embrace.

“Oh it’s good to see you again Brain!” Pinky exclaimed. “I missed you so much since you left, and I was getting worried that I was never going to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you too, Pinky.” Brain kindly remarked. “I just needed to recharge after socializing. You know that I would never abandon my best friend in the whole world, right?”

“Your best friend? Where?” Pinky shouted worriedly as he looked over each shoulder.

Brain rolled his eyes at his friend’s stupidity. “It’s you, Pinky. In addition to being my roommate and my assistant, you’re my best friend in the whole world.”

“Naarf.” Pinky awed, his eyes glistening with wonder. Overwhelmed with joy, the taller mouse decided to give his intelligent roommate an extra squeeze. “Well what a coincidence! It just so happens that you’re my best friend in the whole world, Brain!”

“I know, Pinky.” Brain muttered as he patted the taller mouse’s back. “I know.”

Unbeknownst to both mice, the Warners smiled warmly as they witnessed the sweet exchange.

The Warners and the lab mice entered the private theater. Dot retrieved Pinky and the two went over to the couch, where she placed a pillow over her lap, giving Pinky a place to sit. Brain managed to get the Blu-Ray player running as Wakko grabbed a stockpile of snacks. Yakko turned off the lights to provide a more theatrical experience. Yakko carefully held Brain as he plopped down on the couch, sitting between his younger siblings. Yakko moved his hand over to Dot, who gently held Brain before placing him on the pillow alongside Pinky.

As the Christmas special started, Pinky scooted over to Brain to sit closer to him. Feeling Pinky’s presence and taking into account that they were nearly enveloped in darkness, Brain lifted himself and placed a gentle kiss on Pinky’s cheek. After settling himself back down, he carefully wrapped his arm around his roommate’s waist and pulled him closer. The taller mouse was taken aback by his roommate’s actions. Pinky stared at his best friend, who lovingly gazed at him with a soft smile. Brain couldn’t verbalize the love he held for Pinky, but he hoped his kind physical gestures spoke a thousand words. Pinky beamed at Brain in response and wrapped his arm around him. The two mice continued to gaze into each other’s eyes for a few moments longer before returning their attention to the television.

Additional AN: Looking back on Animaniacs and the Pinky and the Brain spin-off as a person in her late-twenties, I’ve become fully aware of how both The Brain and Yakko deeply care about their loved ones to the point where they’re scared of the thought of being separated from them or seeing them hurt in any way.

Yakko is so attached to Wakko and Dot, pretty much raised them at the tender age of 14, so I feel like he would have this lingering fear of being alone. Whether he’s separated from them or has the idea that they wouldn’t need him anymore. The reboot establishes Yakko’s insecurities of caring about what other people think and that he may not be as funny as he presents himself to be. I found this to be a fascinating aspect of his character, and I wanted to play around with that in the fic.

The Brain, on the other hand, loves Pinky. Even if he can’t bring himself to admit it due to how emotionally constipated he is, his actions speak for him. Brain reading Pinky’s letter to Santa and being so moved that Pinky thinks so highly of him and is so supportive of him that he backs out of taking over the world even though he had the whole world under his command, The Brain literally going to hades to bring Pinky back because being the ruler of the world isn’t the same without him, Brain going out of his way to reunite Pinky with his family (even if it was for a scheme) and even using the gene splicer on them so they could understand each other, and Brain tending to Pinky’s aid when he’s beaten up by humans for being a mouse and changing his motives of world conquest to make the world and better and kinder place for Pinky and others who feel small. The reboot also has more moments where Brain chooses Pinky over a future version of himself, rescuing Pinky from being enslaved by a power-hungry toddler, and even trying to comfort him the best he could after his monster wife ran off with the other monster and the two of them perished upon falling down. There are also a lot of great hints of a slow-burn romance between the two, but I’m getting ahead of myself there.

The biggest challenge I had writing this story that followed the lore of the characters. One headcanon I played around with is that Pinky and the Brain work as part-time actors and that the majority of the skits (especially the history-based ones) were made for the show, while the events that took place in Pinky and the Brain spin-off and certain episodes from the reboot (Of Mice and Memes,Future Brain, and Roadent Trip) actually occurred in the show’s universe.

Also there are aspects of the reboot that I purposefully left out, such as Brain being super evil and Pinky being a passive enabler(*cough cough* episodes 3 and 8 *cough cough*) and Pinky having daddy issues since they conflict with their established characterizations from the PATB spin-off.

I also wanted to provide some sort of explanation as to what the Warners were up to during the past 22 years. So I figured that having them frozen in suspended animation was the more logical choice. I also came up with the idea that they had to choose between staying frozen or being locked in the water tower again for added drama.

Overall, I had a lot of fun writing this story. It’s been a long time since I last publicly published fanfiction since there was a lot going on in my personal life and I was too busy and I didn’t feel entirely motivated to write. But upon rewatching old episodes of Pinky and the Brain, Animaniacs, and watching season one of the Animaniacs reboot has reawakened my creative muse and motivated me to write, and I do plan on writing more stories centered around these characters.

Please leave a review if you can! Thanks for reading!

#animaniacs #pinky and the brain #fanfiction #brain #yakko warner #pinky #wakko warner #dot warner #brinky #a!spoilers #christmas

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givemestories-givemelife · 4 years

Text

Blueberries, Lavender & Hot Matcha Tea (Part 2)

A SasuHina ficlet

PART 1| Part 2

AN: THANK YOU SO MUCH TO THOSE WHO COMMENTED, OR RE-BLOGGED, OR LIKED THE FIRST PART TO THIS FIC. It truly means more than I can say. Helped a lot with motivation and it’s super cool to know that people are reading the things I write. I hope the follow up chapter doesn’t disappoint <3

Summary: Hinata has a run in with a familiar face.

Warnings: Brief mentions of grief and anxiety (because Hinata’s a nervous butterfly) but nothing remotely heavy. Also there’s alcohol consumption.

Word count: 6167

__________________________

Lavender

Hinata knows that she needs to start putting herself out there. She can’t stay holed up comfortably in her room while years of her life pass on by, listening to cigarettes after sex under the safe warmth of her white fluffy blanket that still smells like her late mothers perfume, and sniffing essential oils like they’re some kind of soft-core drug to distract her spiralling thoughts from every embarrassingly mortifying predicament she’s ever found herself in.

She’s been trying really hard not to think about spilling her extra hot matcha latte all over this potentially handsome stranger a few days ago. She thinks - potentially - because she did not have the courage to look at the man's face after maiming him and probably ruining his expensive suit!

Hinata’s sure she must have ruined his entire morning, which must have ruined his whole day, and now he probably hates her. Oh goodness, Hinata strongly dislikes the thought of people out there in this world walking around hating her.

Wow, these thoughts are entirely useless, she really needs to stop her brain from going down these awful paths.

Today Hinata has decided to try really hard not to wallow in the comfort of all her numbing guilty pleasures.

So, when Sakura Haruno, the loud and outgoing girl with pretty pink hair, who always smells like strawberries and vanilla from her photography course asked if she wanted to hangout and work on their portfolio’s after class; Hinata was thankful for the distraction.

They had spent that afternoon drinking green tea at the kitchen table in Sakura’s little homey apartment, showing each other their favourite pieces and sharing feedback.

“You have to include this one, it’s so cute” Sakura gushes, pointing at a print of children finger painting; a mischievous little boy is smearing bold red paint all over the face of a girl whose expression is twisted in pure terror.

“You have a real talent for capturing the essence of people.” She continues in a dreamy tone, “it’s like you’re able to capture the moment they’re most alive, even if it’s just the little moments, y’know?”

Hinata blushes at the complement, “th-thank you Sakura.”

“It's kind of ironic that people are your main muse considering how afraid of them you are.” She teases.

“I’m not sca-AhyH!”

Of course, that’s the moment a woman with a giant blond ponytail barges through the door brandishing a bouquet of peonies making Hinata squeal. “Sakura I swear to god if you ate the last of the ice-cream again, I’m gonna- Oh! hello there.” The crazy flower lady stops mid-threat noticing a stranger in her apartment.

“Ino this is Hinata from class, Hinata this is my roommate Ino.” Sakura introduces, failing to constrain her laughter.

Ino’s demeanor does a 180 as she gently rests the flowers on her lacquered kitchen counter and approaches Hinata in a trance like state. “Your hair is so long and gorgeous, it totally reminds me of the violets we have at the flower shop -- you have to let me braid it.” She breathes and Hinata’s eyes are as wide as the sky outside.

“Ino, tone it down you’re going to scare her.” Sakura chides, rolling her eyes, not at all surprised by her roommate's antics. “Do you always have to act like such a spazz?”

“I am but a simple girl who is a slave to all things beautiful.” Ino proudly counters running her fingers through blue strands and Hinata mentally notes that she smells like a garden.

Sakura’s phone vibrates on the kitchen table, “it’s Naruto,” she says glancing at the screen. “Wondering when we’ll be coming over.”

“I don’t know, an hour or two? Tell him we’re bringing Hinata!” Ino adds excitedly and starts to braid blue hair without permission. “You should come out tonight with Sakura and I, meet the rest of the gang.”

“Oh.” In high school Hinata was never able to make friends with girls, and spent most of her time in the photography club’s black room developing pictures. Her introverted nature made it difficult to connect with people, but in this moment, the prospect of meeting Sakura’s friends, and the inclusive enthusiasm from these girls is making Hinata a little emotional. “I-I don’t know.”

“Hinata, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but I think it could be good for you,” Sakura encourages.

“Carpe diem bitch,” is Ino’s convincing addition.

Hinata giggles, absent mindedly sniffing her wrist searching for the comforting sweet scent of the fragrance she’s wearing today, “yeah, okay.”

Ino makes a pleased sound and saunters over to a kitchen drawer to snatch a pair of scissors and clips the head off of one the peonies, then ties it into the base of Hinata’s braid. “You really have no idea how cute you are Hinata,” she coos observing her work in admiration and Hinata feels warm all over.

Hinata likes the rapport between Ino and Sakura, there’s something about their friendship that she finds inspiring.

When they split what’s left of the chocolate ice-cream and start getting ready for a night out, Hinata can’t help pulling out her camera and snapping shots of Ino with her shades of purple and Sakura’s vibes in red. Hinata feels outshined in her usual high waisted mom jean and oversized grey patterned sweater.

But that’s okay, she still feels like one of the girls.

~~~

Ino had made a strong case for wanting to get her steps in for the day, (since her fitbit said she had only reached 8243 so far) convincing the girls to walk to Naruto’s apartment instead of taking the bus. On their stroll Sakura and Ino began giving Hinata character profiles of everyone she was going to meet and Hinata found them to be quite amusing.

Ino playfully starts with, “Shikamaru’s like, my best bro. I’ve known him forever, smartest guy I know but a total stoner and he doesn’t give a fuck about anything.

“Choji gives the best hugs and he loves giving them, so if he looks like he’s going in for one - just let it happen - you’ll hurt his feelings if you don’t.”

“Naruto and Kiba are basically the same person and are the biggest loudest dorks on the planet,” Sakura chimes in, “but they’re also super friendly and kinda funny if you can get over their lack of brain cells.”

“Then there’s Sasuke,” Ino says, and hearing that name strikes a familiar chord with Hinata, triggering flashes of fond memories. “He’s really hot, but kind of a dick,” Ino hugs herself smiling at a distant memory, “basically, we all know each other from going to the same high school -”

“Ino and I had the hugest rivalry back then because we both wanted him.”

“What happened?” Hinata really wanted to ask if they were talking about Sasuke Uchiha, but didn’t want to interrupt the momentum of their story.

“We were so stupid causing all sorts of drama in our little social circle nearly tearing it apart, and Sasuke wasn’t having any of it, one day he told us to grow the fuck up and to leave him alone.” That did kind of sound like something Sasuke would say, but that would just be too big of a coincidence, wouldn’t it?

“We both cried.” Sakura snickers sheepishly.

“Eventually we finally realized that friendships should be forever-”

“And boyfriends are whatever.” Both girls enthusiastically finish the rehearsed line making silly faces at each other.

Hinata giggles at that, whishing she had taken a picture, “awe, that’s so cute.”

“And now he’s one of our good friends, but I just want to warn you that he can be cold and he can be mean and if he says something dickish, please don’t take it personally.”

Hinata hums, only half listening to Ino. Was it possible that when Hinata arrives at this apartment she was going to be face to face with the childhood friend she hasn’t seen in over a decade?

Guess she’ll just have to wait and see.

~~~

When Hinata enters the apartment, her senses are immediately overstimulated; it smells salty like ramen and sour with beer which clashes with how clean and pristine the space actually is. It’s decorated with blacks, whites and a few splashes of colors, but overall has a very minimalist feel.

Hinata barely has time to kick her shoes off before she’s surrounded by strangers, and can’t stop the heat from suffusing her face from the disorienting barrage of unwanted attention.

“Hey bitches!” Ino yells at the group, “we’re here! We know you missed us!”

“This is the beautiful Hinata,” Sakura adds, and Hinata really wants to hide under a rock somewhere. “Be nice okay, she’s really shy.”

“Hey I’m Naruto.” A blond man appears beaming at her, outstretching his hand. “I have never seen eyes that look like your eyes before!”

“Oh.” Hinata went to shake his hand but was interrupted by another hand grabbing hers and kissing it, which is so uncalled for.

“And I’m Kiba, don’t listen to that guy, he’s a complete moron.” He says with a wolfish grin and Hinata has no idea what’s going on anymore.

When she tries to turn away, she’s met with the kind face of a stout man in a green Zelda t-shirt with his arms wide open for an inviting hug. She decides to accept her fate by awkwardly stepping forward wearing a confused pout, and lets the arms of a stranger wrap around her in what is surprisingly one of the best hugs she has ever received. He smells nice, Hinata thinks. Savoury and warm like a thanksgiving dinner. For a moment she actually feels safe, like a veil has been thrown over the sudden wave of chaos, giving her a quiet moment for her heartbeat to settle, “I’m Choji, it’s really nice to meet you Hinata, try not to worry so much, everyone here is harmless, I promise.” He says, rubbing gentle circles on her back.

When Choji pulls away, he sends her one last reassuring smile before padding off towards the ponytailed man currently dying of laughter, and joining him on a leather couch. Choji grabs a handful of potato chips from a bowl on the marble coffee table and starts earnestly snacking.

Snacks! Snacks sound really nice right now! Tasting tasty things can sometimes be a good distraction when Hinata is overwhelmed. She self-consciously shuffles forward towards the provisions, drawn towards the colorful array of fresh fruits, grabbing a small handful of blueberries and popping one of them in her mouth. She tries to ignore the pair legs in her periphery... she needs a moment before making another introduction.

Hinata jumps feeling a presence directly behind her, she twirls around to see Naruto pulling back appearing extremely guilty.

What was he doing? Was he pointing at her hair?

“Hehehe, sorry about that,” he says, smiling sheepishly, and scratches the back of his head, “I was just pointing out to my friend here, how beautiful your hair is, what a wonderful shade of blue,” he made a weird face directed at someone over her head, “are you enjoying those, blueberries?”

Okay.

Hinata hears more laughter coming from ponytail boy on the couch.

Weird.

Hinata turns to see who Naruto is looking at and-

Oh.

Sasuke?

Sasuke was here.

It was her Sasuke!

She instantly looks away, eyes wide, staring down at the hardwood floors.

Well, not her Sasuke. But an older version of the one she knew as a child. The one she met that one summer years ago and spent nearly every day with him before her mother fell ill and her family moved away in the wake of tragedy.

And he was... Glaring at her? No, he was glaring at Naruto? He kind of looked like he recognized her, but why would he be glaring?

“This is fucking stupid,” Sasuke seethes and takes off towards the kitchen, where Kiba and Ino are talking and drinking.

Ouch.

Sakura approaches Hinata with a glass in hand, Hinata stares at the ice clinking as she offers it, “vodka soda, with lime?”

Well, one drink couldn’t hurt, Hinata thinks.

She glances over at a brooding Sasuke leaning on the kitchen island sipping his beer.

She might need it.

~~~

It’s nearly an hour later and Hinata feels the dread sinking deep into the pit of her stomach. She desperately wishes she could conjure up some courage, approach Sasuke, and see how he’s been after all these years, but he still hasn’t left from his spot in the kitchen.

She’s starting to believe that maybe he doesn’t recognize her, which is a rather sad thought.

Hinata also appears to be at the butt end of some sort of mean inside joke that she doesn’t understand, ponytail bo- Shikamaru and Naruto joined Sasuke in the kitchen and kept making not-so-subtle glances her way -- but whatever -- she’s a big girl, she’s not going to cry about it even if she wants to.

Currently she’s sitting on the puffy leather couch between Choji and Sakura, Sakura is sharing the memes she’s saved onto her phone this month with Ino and Kiba while Hinata stares down at the melting ice in her drink and Choji attempts to calm her with platitudes.

Hinata doesn’t regret coming tonight despite feeling like the biggest fool in existence.

After all, tonight she actually has the opportunity to reconnect with someone she still thinks about, even after all these years.

She has always wondered what had happened to that bratty boy she met that one summer.

The sinking feeling grows deeper and Hinata feels her heart beating in the drums of her ears.

She takes one last tentative sip before downing the rest of her drink and summons every ounce of bravery she didn’t know she had to strengthen her resolve.

She stands from the couch with shaky determination ignoring Choji’s concerned inquiry, then forces one foot in front of the other strait towards the guiding bright lights of the kitchen.

The easy conversation awkwardly dies down when she arrives beside Naruto and Sasuke. She feels both their gazes land on her, and Hinata spots an ugly orange magnet on the stainless-steel fridge Sasuke is leaning on that has the phrase - believe it! - stamped on it and chooses to direct most of her focus on the positive affirmation.

“Uh, hey Hinata, you doing okay?” Naruto asks, slightly taken aback. Hinata nods still focusing on the magnet, face heating up as the beginning of a buzz tingles in the corners of her mind. “Can I get you another drink?”

She looks down at the empty glass she grips and nods again, muttering a quiet thank you, and handing it over. He takes it and moves further down the island to chat with Shikamaru and starts making her another.

“Hi Sasuke,” she forces passed her chapped lips.

“Hello Hinata.” Sasuke says, sounding about as uncomfortable as she feels and she looks up, hopeful, to meet his burning gaze and quickly looks back at that stupid orange magnet.

“So, you do remember me?” She asks, confused as to why he’s been ignoring her since her arrival.

“I remember how two days ago you ran into me quite rudely, burning me with tea.”

Hinata’s brain short-circuits.

“Wait what!?-”

No! No no no no no. Impossible. No.

“-That- that was you? oh my god, oh no! I am so sorry about that, I really wasn’t looking where I was going, I-I can’t believe this, I swear you just came out of nowhere though, oh my goodness, I can’t believe that was-”

“Please just stop before you give yourself an aneurysm.” Sasuke lifts his hands in a placating manner and Hinata snaps her mouth shut. “So that’s not how you seem to know me?” He asks, further rankling as the conversation drags on.

“So you don’t remember me.” She says mostly to herself, completely humiliated by this entire exchange, every time she opens her mouth it’s like falling down a flight of stairs -- Hinata seriously wishes she would reach the bottom already.

“Remember you from... where?”

“I-I mean I guess it’s not that surprising, we were only nine or ten at the time and it-it was only one summer... over a decade ago... You-you never really did call me by my name either.” Hinata says focusing on her twiddling fingers, her voice barely above a whisper, a pensive smile framing her lips at the memory.

There’s a long drawn out silence before Sasuke slowly asks, “...Tomato face?”

Hinata feels her face burn red at the old moniker, nodding. “Yeah...”

“Hyuuga, Hinata. Shit. Yeah. I do remember.”

The culminating tension finally releases from the moment and Hinata smiles at the black and white tiles breathing just a little bit easier.

He remembers.

“Wait... Did I hear you call her a tomato?” Naruto returns with a mildly amused Shikamaru in tow, handing Hinata her drink, and looks between the pair completely intrigued.

~~~

It didn’t take long for the word to spread that Hinata and Sasuke were childhood friends and everyone congregated into the small-ish kitchen asking curious questions.

It also didn’t take long for everyone to lose interest when Naruto nudged Hinata and started grilling her for embarrassing details of what a prepubescent Sasuke was like, earning him a surly glare. Hinata shyly shrugged saying, “I-I don’t really remember, it was a long time ago.”

Safe to say -- Naruto didn’t buy it, but surprisingly didn’t press further, and the group dispersed, leaving them to reacquaint.

The conversation between them after that was unfortunately still quite awkward, thankfully, Hinata wasn’t entirely to blame.

They exchanged small talk, Hinata mentions that she actually works at Heaven’s Little Corner and was just coming off her shift early when she ran into him the other day, and Sasuke talks about going to school and getting a Bachelor's degree in Business and how he focused on E-commerce after graduation. Overall, their -- re-connecting -- consisted of the typical pleasantries involved in catching up, and Hinata couldn’t distinguish if she was disappointed or relieved when their conversation came to a lull and she couldn’t think of anymore pointless verbiage to drag it along.

What she really wanted was to reminisce over hot days on the beach, collecting tiny crabs to occupy the sandcastles they built, and how Hinata had found sand in her hair days after the event. She wanted to talk about ice-cream and food fights and sneaking out to gaze at the stars in the night sky way past their bedtime, and how they pondered if aliens exist.

“I think the universe is too big for there not to be something out there somewhere.”

She remembers Sasuke saying, thoughtfully looking up.

“I-I think you’re an alien.”

She said back, earning her an indignant huff.

“Whatever tomato face.”

She wanted to talk about how simple everything was when they were kids, how she misses that naivety and how scary the world had revealed itself to be over the years.

Hinata was never good at making friends, even as a child, but she could still look back and she knew that Sasuke was one. He had been the last mark on her childhood that had made it a good one, the last moments she had to truly be a kid before she lost her mother, the truest love she had ever felt, forcing her to grow up.

Instead silence overtakes the kitchen and they both stare at their drinks unsure of what to say.

Sasuke isn’t how she remembers him at all. Yeah, he has the same face, just matured, and the same haughtiness, but the spark for life that had once inspired her seemed to be gone.

Which is an unfair thought to have, she admits, but she can’t stop herself from thinking it.

“Well I think it’s time to go on an adventure,” Naruto awkwardly offers.

“An adventure?” Hinata repeats, eyes growing wide.

“Naruto’s idea of an adventure is leaving the house and walking around the block.” Sasuke says rolling his eyes.

“Hey anything can be an adventure if you let it!”

~~~

It smells like damp grass and Hinata nearly jumps out of her skin as Naruto’s roar of triumph echo's off the surrounding buildings, catching the glow in the dark frisbee Kiba threw him. Sakura and Ino had joined them in their late-night excursion and Hinata can’t suppress the giddy giggles from watching them stumble about attempting athleticism when they are clearly four or five drinks deep.

She snaps a few photos and decides that she likes Naruto’s philosophy of approaching even the mundane aspects of life as an adventure.

This whole day certainly has felt like one.

Hinata puts her camera away, feels the chill in the October air, and pulls her scarf tighter. She casts a glance over at the park bench where Shikamaru was smoking a joint to see that he’s now casually chatting about... string theory? -- to Choji, who continues to nod his head like he understands.

Her trailing gaze then lands on Sasuke and-

Hinata immediately looks back towards the glowing air bound frisbee.

He was watching her - he looked suspicious - Hinata doesn’t know of what.

“Hey Sakura,” Hinata tries to call out, voice wavering, “it’s getting late, I think I-I should start heading home.”

That seems to put a halt on the physical activity for a moment, she’s then hugged by every frisbee player.

“It was nice meeting you Hinata.”

“Come back any time.”

“Yes please! We need more girls in our group, Sakura and I are severely outnumbered.”

“Are you sure you don’t want us to walk you?” Sakura slurs slightly, pulling away from the tight embrace.

“I’ll be fine, thank you Sakura,” Hinata smiles at her newest friend and turns to leave but stops at the bench to wave goodbye at Choji and Shikamaru, earning her a warm smile and a lazy nod. She looks at Sasuke’s arms proudly crossed over his broad chest and says, “it was nice seeing you again Sasuke.” And makes her way down the busy street, casting one last glance behind her just in time to see Sakura jump on Ino piggyback style to catch the frisbee in an impressive display of drunken camaraderie.

She smiles wider to herself. Wow. Today was a good day. An Adventure! Even if seeing Sasuke again was really weird and awkward and not at all how she wished it could have gone, she still met a lot of new people – Sakura's friends are so nice! They made her feel right at home and didn’t make her feel too weird about being shy and -

“Hey, Hinata.”

Hinata startles, hearing the sound of her name accompanied by footsteps catching up and her breath hitches when she turns to see Sasuke slowing down next to her.

“S-Sasuke? What are you-”

“I’m going to walk you home,” he snorts like it’s obvious, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his black jacket, “it’s late.”

“Oh,” Hinata hugs herself, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious and maybe even a little nauseous as they walk in silence, their steps in sync.

She can feel the heat of his gaze on her and Hinata makes a point to stare at the crispy autumn leaves on the pavement – yeah – Hinata has no idea what to make of this.

“You know it finally makes sense now, why I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Hinata trips over nothing, “you what?”

Leaves. Look at the leaves. The beautiful burnt orange leaves. Just. Keep. Looking.

“At the coffee shop, there was something about you, I couldn’t get you out of my mind. Guess I thought you were familiar somehow.” Sasuke shrugs, with an air of nonchalance as they cross the street.

“Oh,” Hinata’s starting to feel warm, she doesn’t know if it’s from their quickening pace, the two drinks she’s had or how Sasuke is close enough for their shoulders to brush.

“It’s kind of crazy that we’d run into each other like this, after all these years.”

Hinata stops walking and Sasuke mirrors her. There’s something in his tone that catches Hinata off guard, something almost fond? Hinata looks back in the direction of his friends, they’re about five blocks away now.

Sasuke seemed... different than how he’s been all night -- more open somehow. Maybe he feels weird about their earlier interactions too, but didn’t feel comfortable acting this way in front of his friends? Sasuke’s always been a very private person, even as a child.

“Yeah it is,” Hinata bites her lip and throws him a timid fleeting smile, silently wishing she knew what was going through his mind.

“So, why did you come back to Konoha.”

“I-uh-” Hinata starts playing with the hem of her sweater and reminds herself it’s good to open up, “-wanted to figure out this life thing for myself – be independent - if my dad had his way, I’d never leave home or do anything that wasn’t part of his plan-” she tapers off, distracted by the approaching sound of music, a dumb smile spreads across her face when she sees an old skinny man on a sparkly bicycle riding past them on the road blaring ‘Dancing Queen’ from an oversized speaker he probably installed himself -- he seemed so – in the moment, like all that existed was him and the music filling the streets that he owned – Hinata silently mourns the missed opportunity of capturing that moment forever in a-

“You were saying,” Sasuke pokes her shoulder harder than necessary, bursting her from her reverie, and starts leading her down concrete stairs away from the bustling main road of the city, towards the waterfront.

“Right,” Hinata continues feeling energized from the random encounter and embarrassed from being caught drifting away in a daydream when they were in the middle of a conversation, “it was – uh - hard to leave my sister, but she encouraged me to go, that I should at least attempt to do the dream chasing thing.” Hinata pats her shoulder bag in reference to her camera. “I saved up some money and here I am, making it up as I go.”

“Hm, you always were snapping pictures everywhere you went.”

Their steps slow to a stop once they reach the cold metal railing where tourists gather during the day overlooking the docks, but it’s mostly quiet at this time of night.

It smells cold from the breeze and salty from the ocean. The lampposts must need changing because the only light is from the half-moon in the cloudless sky, casting them in dark shades of blue.

Hinata takes a deep breath observing the skyline and the colorful lights reflecting in the undulating ocean waves, then asks the question that’s been bothering her since their seemingly kismet reunion. “What do you remember after all this time?”

“I remember...” He trails off, Hinata doesn’t miss the sly edge in his tone. “That I had told you I’d marry you one day,” his voice is deep, almost gravely when he takes a slow playful step closer and Hinata swears her heart skips several beats noticing their breaths mixing in the cold air between them. “And that... you were technically my first kiss.” He says with a sarcastic snort, stepping back, and gesticulates somewhere behind them. “You can’t tell them about it though. Especially Naruto, the idiot would never let me live it down.”

Hinata blushes at the memory and attempts to mask her frown with an indignant pout, trying not to take the jeer personally.

Sasuke always did like to mess with her.

“You were my only kiss.” Hinata then whispers without thinking and regrets it. She immediately hates the implications -- like she’s some inexperienced-love-sick-twenty-something, who’s never gotten over her childhood crush.

Hinata sighs, briefly drowning in her own self-deprecating thoughts, gripping at the railing, eyes a passing ship, and pretends she can’t feel him studying her, surprised by the admission.

“What do you remember?” He asks back, finally breaking the silence.

She bites her lip, thinking, a rush of memories flashing one by one, settling on their goodbye -- her sobbing because she had to move away to a new city thousands of miles away that had special doctors who could treat her mother, how Sasuke was speechless and could only squeeze her tight in the first and only hug they had ever shared.

She remembers how he always told her she should stand up for herself, even against him, and she remembers how sometimes when she was around, he’d bite his tongue, holding back petulant sneers.

There’s a small quirk to her lips when she softly says, “Looking back, I-I always thought that we brought out the best in each other.”

There’s another long silence and Hinata once again feels the heavy weight of his gaze examining her, he reaches out and she stiffens when he gently grips the base of her braid touching the bright pink flower there.

“Did Ino do this?” He quietly asks, and there something hidden in his voice that shifts the mood of their conversation, and he’s close again, close enough for their visible breaths to once again mix, his fingers trail down towards the tail end of her braid.

“Uh huh.” Hinata breathes, watching his fingers play with the tip of her strands.

“Why can’t you…” he starts to ask, unsure, but curious, “never mind.” He let’s go of the braid, huffing lightly in frustration and leans on the railing, looking out towards the roaring waves.

Hinata’s stunned by his sudden apprehension. "Why can’t I what?”

“I said never mind.”

“But… I- I want to know.”

“Why can’t you look at me?”

“Oh.”

Sasuke sighs, “you don’t have to answer.”

Hinata bites her lip hard, internally wincing. “I-it’s not just you it’s most people really.” She starts, racking her brain for the right words “- It’s -it’s embarrassing… Well everything is embarrassing but, I get anxious about nothing all the time? And looking at people. I don’t know. I get paranoid that they can hear my thoughts or something? Not that I’m thinking about anything weird, well sometimes I am… it’s easier when they’re not looking back at me... Anyways... I guess it’s just become a bad habit now…” she sighs and smiles bitterly at the mess that just flew out of her mouth. “So, to summarize, looking at people kind of sometimes really freaks me out?”

“I see,” Sasuke says, Hinata glances at his mouth, he’s smiling a little, it’s almost warm in an amused sort of way, which completely disarms her.

Hinata’s tongue feels dry, “uhm, do-do you ever feel anxious?”

“Never. I get annoyed or frustrated with people very easily though, which can be problematic, not that I care”

“I guess some things never change then.” Hinata teases gently.

Sasuke smirks, he seems ready to retort with a quip but retreats and opts for something entirely different, “are there things that help you with your anxiety?”

There’s something about the question that makes Hinata feel warm all over, she never really gets to talk about these kinds of things without it feeling like it would dampen the mood, but there’s surprisingly no judgement in his tone, he seems genuinely curious, which encourages her to open up some more, "I find different scents to be calming, so I wear whatever my current favorite essential oil is on my wrist every day and whenever I feel too overwhelmed,” Hinata begins to explain in a rush pulling her sleeve up to demonstrate and presents Sasuke her wrist, “I close my eyes, count down from ten and-” Hinata’s breath catches in her throat and her eyes fly open when Sasuke gently pulls her forward by the wrist and she feels the softness of his lips brush over her pulse, then draws in a slow breath to scent the fragrance she chose to wear that day, “...and... sniff.”

Oh goodness, is it getting hot out here? Because Hinata’s face feels like it’s about to burst into flames. Hinata debates pulling her arm back but is currently enraptured by the softest look she’s seen on the Uchiha’s face this evening.

This feels way too intimate, and Hinata thinks she likes it. Hinata thinks that maybe this is what’s been missing in her life. The feeling of being close to someone in more ways than just proximity. Is it possible she’s been physically and emotionally touch starved for years without realizing it?

That’s a thought that petrifies her. How sleeping on your basest human needs can become a habit, and you find yourself going through the trivial motions of existence, not bothering to search for more, for something that makes your heart sing, twist, and turn into itself the way that muscle pumping blood through her circulatory system at a quickening pace is doing right now.

“Lavender,” Sasuke murmurs against her wrist and his breath feels hot on her skin, Hinata struggles for breath when the sensation brings her back to the present moment and she realizes that she’s been staring directly into his darkened obsidian eyes, boring into hers and she finds herself unable to look away. A subtle look of achievement flashes through them when he softly asks, “you okay there?”

Is she dead? Is she imagining this? This whole situation with the soft touches coinciding with depressing epiphanies triggered by Sasuke smelling her suddenly seems completely absurd, and Hinata’s not sure she’ll be able to form a coherent sentence any time soon.

“I uh, uhm.” There’s definitely something wrong with Hinata’s voice when she attempts to speak.

“I think that...” Sasuke smoothly adjusts their hands to interlock their fingers and his hand feels so warm in hers, “you should go out with me.”

What is happening?

“No.”

Hinata kinda meant to say yes, but sure, no works too?

“What?”

“I mean, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Hinata winces slightly. Gosh what is she even saying? Is this some sort of weird defense mechanism because she’s afraid of getting hurt?

Sasuke nods slowly, narrowing his eyes, “why not.”

Don’t you have to risk getting hurt to get anywhere in life that’s worth while?

“I-I don’t know.”

“Hn.” Sasuke breaks eye contact and lets their holding hands fall. Hinata reels at the loss of warmth. He turns away from her and crosses his arms over the railing and looks out towards the dark rhythmic waves of the ocean. Hinata worries her bottom lip between her teeth as she studies the man before her. The moonlight is hitting the sharp angles of his face just perfect, and Hinata’s in awe. He’s all grown up now, and by default that means Hinata is too. Yet, here they are, the oldest they’ve been, and still the youngest they will ever be.

Nostalgia floods through Hinata’s system, deciding to grab the moment instead of letting it pass. She’s not sure when she pulled the camera out of her bag, but the flash went off before she understood that she was taking a picture.

Sasuke jumps slightly at the flash and is pulled from his brooding thoughts, shooting her a puzzled glare.

“Sorry, that was kind of weird of me. I just – I just thought you-you looked erm... nice in the moonlight?”

A bewildered look flashes across Sasuke’s face before a small smile begins to form and he laughs! He actually, genuinely laughs while shaking his head in what appears to be disbelief.

The only thing Hinata can do is smile sheepishly distracted by how handsome he looks when he lets go of his composure, the light in his eyes makes him look younger, like the Sasuke she knew all those years ago.

Hinata wonders if any of his friends get to see him like this.

He looks down at the pavement, shoulders still shaking, smile still present and pinches the bridge of his nose while taking in a slow breath and on his exhale, he reaches into his pocket, pulls out his phone, unlocks it, hands it over and says, “give me your number.”

Hinata tentatively obliges, pulling open the add new contact page, filling in the blanks then handing it back. Sasuke starts typing something in his phone and asks. “Do you work Sunday?”

“Uhm, yes?”

Hinata’s phone buzzes, when retrieving it from her bag she sees a text from an unknown number.

>> I’m going to come by after your shift and I'm taking you out. Don’t even bother using your mouth to respond.

Hinata feels her fingers tingling and tries to open her mouth to speak, closes it, bites her lip to try and stifle her giggles and resists the urge to slap herself in the face for acting like a complete airhead.

She pushes her fears aside one more time tonight...

And takes the damn dive.

<< Okay <3

__________________________

AN2: Wow, okay. A month later and I have the second part to this little story. This is the first time that I’m posting something I didn’t just throw together in one sitting. I’ve also never posted anything that was longer than 1200 words and it’s unexpectedly a little nerve-wracking??? OKAY SO, I guess there’s going to be one last chapter and it’s going to be like 90% SasuHina interactions? And spoiler alert they’re finally going to make-out. I have this SasuHina headcannon where they’re both private people who generally keep to themselves -- so people think they’re a boring couple, but when they’re alone together it’s like they’re in their own little world, and that’s the dynamic I’m looking forward to exploring in the final part. I’m not sure when it’s going to be up since I have a bunch of other stuff I need to work on so it depends on how the inspo hits me, but I do have plenty of fun ideas!

#sasuhina #sasuhina oneshot #sasuhina fanfic #sasuhinafanfiction #hinata #sasuke #naruto #mystuff #Hinata hyuuga #hinata fanfic

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kitkatfat15 · 4 years

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(WIP) Avengers Among Us Fanfic

My Avengers Among Us fanfic so far. It is still a work in progress and I would appreciate feed back on it. That being said, please do not copy my work in any way. If you are inspired by it and want to make something similar, totally fine. Just... Don’t steal my story. Also, IronStrange is my endgame for this.

Red- Tony Stark...

Blue- Stephen Strange, Peter Parker...

Orange- Natasha...

White-Steve Rogers...

Grey- Bucky Barnes...

Black- Aldrich Killian

Tan-Obadiah Stane...

Cyan- Wanda Maximoff...

Yellow- Clint Barton…

Green- Bruce Banner...X

Pink- Maria hill

Purple- Maya Hansen...X

Brown-Fury

Lime- Betty Ross…

——

Room 1- Orange, Yellow, Green

Room 2- lime, cyan, purple

Room 3- White, Grey, Tan

Room 4- Blue, Blue, Red

Room 5-Black, Pink, Brown

———

Tony leaned against the wall and stared at his new crew mates. He looked around and caught Killian’s eyes. He scowled. He hates that guy. Maybe this time he can push his murders on him and convince the crew to vote him out.

Obie looked at him and nodded. Tony shuddered. He couldn’t stand that guy either. They had gone on a mission a while ago and Obadiah tried to blame everything on him. Luckily he had an alibi, but still.

A kid in a blue suit came bounding over towards him. “It’s amazing, isn’t it.” He said. Tony nodded in agreement. “It is, kid. It is.” Tony hummed. “So, what’s a kid like you doing on a ship like this?”

The kid smiled. “Me and my dad are heading towards Alpha Six. He has some friends over there. We’re going to be staying with them for a few weeks. Oh! I never introduced myself! I’m Peter Parker.” Peter held out a hand and Tony accepted it. ‘Poor kid.’ He thinks, ‘Probably never going to make it there.’ Tony winces.

“I’m Tony.” Tony can tell the kid is smiling behind his visor. “Well it’s been nice to meet you Mr. Tony, but I have to get back to my dad.” The kid waves goodbye and walks back over to the person in the other blue suit.

The guy in the white suit calls everyone around. “Hello everybody, my name is Steve and I am the captain of this ship. We should be reaching our first destination, Alpha four, in around 10 days. I assume you're all tired, so I’ll show you to your quarters. There's three a room.” The captain leads the crew, and the three imposters, to a door. When he opened it there was a small common room with a few doors on the wall. Next to each door there was a holographic screen with names.

“The room with your name on it is yours.” The crew went around looking for their rooms. Tony spotted his and hummed. Looks like he’s staying with the two blues, Peter and his dad, Stephen Strange. In the room there was a storage area for bags, three small beds, and a vent on the floor. ‘Perfect.’ Tony thought. ‘Time to get settled in.’

——————

Peter was so excited. He had been on the ship for a day now and everything was so cool! He only has a few daily tasks, since he was so young. But that was okay. He was just glad to help. Peter hummed a little tune as he walked into admin and pulled out his swipe card. He quickly swiped the card and left the room, heading towards O2 so he could clear out the O2 filter. He passed Mr. Tony on his way down, and waved hello.

Peter got in the room and pushed the leaves out of the vent. He wondered how the leaves got in there in the first place. He shrugged and looked at his watch. It was time to meet his dad. He passed a few people on his way there. They all seemed friendly enough though. He entered the cafeteria and found his father downloading documents. “Hey dad!”

“Hey Pete.” His dad mummers. Peter was confused. His dad has been acting really odd lately. Ever since he had done the download yesterday. Peter shrugged. It was probably nothing to worry about. Suddenly both of their comms beeped and flashed red. It said to meet everyone at the cafeteria table with the red button. His dad sighed and cancelled to download. They both walked over and sat at the table.

———-

When Tony got the message he knew one of them had been busy. He quickly stood up from where he had been sitting in storage and walked towards the cafeteria. When he got there only Cyan, Yellow, Green, and Purple were missing. He pulled out the open seat next to Peter and sat down. Pretty soon Cyan, Yellow, and Green showed up.

The captain, white, put his helmet in his hands. “Maya Hansen was found dead in Communications. We are unsure of who did it, but one thing we know now is that there is at least one imposter on this ship.” Tony felt Peter tense up next to him. Peter raised his hand. “Yes Peter?” White asked. “What is an imposter and what do you mean by at least one?” Tony heard his voice crack a bit and could see tears in the kids eyes. Probably the first murder he’s ever been in contact with. For some reason that made Tony’s stomach clench at the thought.

White sighed. “An imposter is an alien who looks human, but isn’t. They have tentacles, are super strong, and can see in the dark. Those are the only confirmed signs of an imposter. The reason I said at least one, is they like to travel in pairs or groups.” Steve ranked his eyes along everyone at the table. “S-so Ms. Maya’s murderer is sitting here with us at the table right now?” White nodded grimly. Tony felt Peter start to tremble besides him.

“Now, where was everyone right now?” They went around in a circle telling everyone where they were and what they were doing until it got to Tony. “I was getting gasoline for the reactor.” Peter nodded. “It’s true, I saw him on my way to O2 to clean out the filter. Before that I went to admin to swipe my card. And after cleaning the filter I went to find my dad and help with downloads.” Tony was surprised. Why was this kid covering for him? He should be scared out of his wits.

Tony watched him out of the corner of his eye and noticed the kid was shaking. ‘I think he might be scared out of his wits after all.’ He thought to himself. White nodded at Peter, accepting his answer. After the rest had told where they were white decided they should vote for who they think did it. Everyone skipped, there was no solid proof. Well, except for the traces of blood on Killian's suit, but they couldn’t see or smell that.

After everyone voted, the meeting ended and Tony walked up to bigger blue, Stephen. “Hey, your name’s Stephen, right?” He asked. Stephen nodded warily. “Do you mind if I stay with you guys? I don’t feel safe traveling around on my own.” Stephen looked at Peter who was giving him a thumbs up. “Fine. You can stay with us.” Tony smiled beneath his visor. “Let’s get to work.”

————-

Tony smiled as Peter rambled on about the wires he was working on. He had been with Peter and Stephen for around 2 days now, and they had reached an agreement. When Stephen wasn’t with them, Tony watched and protected Peter. It was a good thing too because Tony had seen Killian slinking around, trying to find another victim.

“Hey Tony?” Peter caught his attention. “Yeah kid?” Peter fiddled with the wires, thinking about what to say. “Do… Do you think whoever killed Ms. Maya is going to kill someone else? Do you think we’re safe?” Tony felt a weight settle at the bottom of his stomach. He was one of the imposters. He had killed people before. People like Peter and Stephen. Tony shook those thoughts off. “Kid, I honestly don’t know. But one thing I do know is that we’re safe if we stay together.” It was true. Tony has grown fond of Peter and his father. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt them. Peter smiled weakly from behind his visor. “I’m sure you’re right Tony.” He went back to working on the wires.

Tony took a deep breath and steeled his resolve. He had to kill someone soon. If he didn’t the others might be suspicious. He caught a glimpse of Cyan passing the door. He noticed no one was with her. He would get her tonight, while everyone was sleeping and no one, not Peter or Stephen would be any the wiser.

——-

After everyone had gone to bed and all was still, Tony quietly got out of bed and creaked open the vent, slipping inside nimbly. It was a bigger vent and therefore easy to crawl through. He took a left and was now under a vent cover. He slowly pushed the cover and pulled himself up. Cyan and lime were sleeping soundly. Hansen was their other roommate, but she was dead.

Tony slipped the knife out of his suit and stood above cyan, posed to strike. As he was about to slash down and end the girl, he thought of Peters trusting eyes and Stephens happy smile as he made a joke. He lowered the knife. He would do it tomorrow he decided. He slipped back into the vent, back to his own room. Both Peter and Stephen were still asleep. He slowly closed the vent and slipped under his covers.

————-

Peter was slightly suspicious, but mostly he was just scared. Last night he woke up when he heard a bang. When he looked over, his dad was still asleep, but Tony was gone. He didn’t think anything of it. He probably had to use the bathroom, no big deal. As he was almost asleep, he heard another bang and saw someone exit the vent and crawl into the bed next to his dad’s. Peter had fallen back asleep before anything else had happened. But now he was scared. Was Tony one of the imposters? He… He couldn’t be. Tony would never hurt Peter. Then why did Peter see him exit the vents? Peter knew he should call an emergency meeting and tell everybody what he had seen, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Peter was broken out of his thoughts by a loud rumble. He realised it was his stomach. He blushed and Tony chuckled. “Hey kid, do you wanna go find your dad and get some lunch?” Peter nodded, still bright red. He shut the wire panel and followed Tony to communications, where his dad was. When they got just around the corner they saw Tan outside of the door, about to go in. Tony cleared his throat and the man spun around, shoving something metallic in his suit pocket.

———-

When Tony had seen him there his heart had almost leapt out of his chest. He cleared his throat and Obadiah spun around, shoving a knife in his pocket. Tony gave him a teeth filled grin. “Hey, Obie! What are you doing here?” He said with false cheer. He heard Stephen get up and walk out of the room. He looked at Obadiah in confusion. “Hey Stephen, we were just looking for you! Peter was getting hungry.” Stephen glanced at Obie out of the corner of his eye. “Let’s get going.” He said. As they were walking away, Tony felt Obie’s sharp glare on his back. He put his arm around Peter, shielding him from Obadiah's glare.

After they ate lunch they stayed together for their tasks. Tony Insisted on it. He didn’t want either of the other imposters to get any ideas. That night when both Peter and Stephen were asleep, Tony heard someone clanking in the vents. Tony reaches over to a pile of his stuff and pulled out a gun. He put his finger on the trigger and held down enough for it to emit a slight whirring sound. The person in the vents went the other way. Tony didn’t sleep that night and the next morning Green was found dead in his room by his roommates Yellow and Orange.

———

Peter sat close to his Father and Tony during the meeting. Mr Bruce had died last night. Anyone could have done it. Peter knew for a fact that Tony hadn’t slept last night due to the dark circles under his eyes. Peter had also spotted a gun almost fully hidden under some clothes in their room. But that was crazy. Tony couldn’t have killed Mr. Bruce. Peter knew that he had been found with his neck snapped, not with a gun wound. ‘Importers are strong. Tony still could have done it.’ A traitorous voice whispers to him. The sound of Ms. Betty’s sobs break him out of his thoughts. Peter knew Mr. Bruce and Ms. Betty were dating. He felt bad for her.

Ms. Wanda was comforting Ms. Betty. Everybody but Ms. Wanda and Ms. Betty skipped voting. Peter didn’t know who they voted for, but it wasn’t enough to get anyone thrown out of the ship. It took everyone longer to do their tasks because no one wanted to be alone. Peter caught Tony watching Mr. Killian and Mr Stane. Peter didn’t trust those two anymore, not since he had seen an almost invisible stain on Mr. Killian’s suit and the knife Mr. Obadiah had tried to hide from him and Tony. If they hadn’t gotten there, who knows what would have happened to his dad.

———-

Later that day, when Tony had left Peter and Stephen to use the bathroom, he was cornered. He heard the door slam shut and someone grabbed him from behind with black tentacles. Killian. Tony grabbed his knife and slashed downwards, spilling black blood. The tentacles released him and he was forced to dodge as a power blast went right by him. He grabbed his gun and shot at Killian. He knew he got a good shot in due to the inhuman shriek that he released. Killian went down the vent and Tony was left shaking. Oh god. Killian had almost killed him. He holstered his gun and picked back up the black stained knife. He wasn’t safe anymore. He had to get rid of Killian. He made a dash towards the cafeteria and hit the emergency meeting button.

When everyone arrived he got straight to the point. “I was going to the bathroom when I saw Killian vent.” Silence. “When he saw me he attacked and I was forced to fight back. I grabbed his gun and shot him before he retreated.” They looked at the black blood on his suit and the badly hidden hole on Killian’s suit. “I believe him.” Peter said. “The day after Ms. Maya was killed, I saw something on Killian’s suit. I think it was blood, but I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want people to think I was suspicious.” There were Nods in agreement, while Killian sat there simmering in rage. After everyone had voted, white took out his dart gun and shot Killian. There was a horrible shriek and Killian released his tentacles, trying to kill one of them. Tony shoved Peter and Stephen behind him, trying to shield them, when Killian went down for the count, unconscious. White holstered his gun. “military grade sleep darts.” He said.

Tony looked around. Peter was shaking in fright and being comforted by his dad, some of Pink’s suit had been torn away, and Yellow’s visor had been cracked. Tony watched as White and Grey dragged Killian to the airlock before turning back to Peter. “Are you okay?” The kid asked him. Tony gave a small smile. “Yeah I’m fine kid. Why don’t you go see if you can help yellow with his visor.” Peter shakily nodded and went to help yellow. Tony caught Stephen side eyeing him, before turning around to go help Peter.

——-

Peter pursed his lips as he put glue in the cracks of the visor. Peter was glad Tony was able to fight the imposter and report him, but that didn’t answer how. According to what Peter had heard, imposters were extremely fast and strong. So how did Tony manage to hurt then escape Killian? Peter was starting to think his guess that Tony was an importer was correct. He sighed and kept putting on glue. What would he do if Tony was an imposter? Could he bring himself to report the older man? Peter was brought out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. It was Grey, Mr. Bucky.

“Are you okay kid? I know it can be a lot to deal with, especially for a young teen like you.” Peter sighed and nodded. “I feel overwhelmed. I mean, what was supposed to be a peaceful journey has turned into a horror show. And to think that there are more imposters like him on the ship…” Peter shuddered at the thought. Mr. Bucky squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. “I’m sure everything will turn out alright kid, just, try to stay safe.” Peter nodded and Mr. Bucky left.

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lockedstuck · 3 years

Text

how to make friends and influence people

March 2021

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you probably should have thought this through better.

Picture a thin blonde girl sitting by a phone, being watched by a woman in navy blue scrubs. The girl wears light blue hospital issue pants, and a white T-shirt with a pink cat on it. Her frustration shows clear as day, from her posture to her facial expressions. She yanks the phone off the hook and punches in a number with such speed that the gesture must be semi-unconscious. She puts the phone to her ear, waits a few moments, then swears loudly. Then, in a tense voice, she begins to speak.

“Mommy, this is the fourth time I’ve called you today… Please call me back when you can.”

Her bobbed hair bounces as she turns to face you.

“Oh!” she exclaims. “Did you want to use the phone?”

Yeah, yeah you did, to call your unceasing nag of a brother. He’s the reason you’re here in the first place, since he’s the fucker who called 911 on you. Therefore, he should have to bring you clothes. You grab the phone and dial Kankri’s number. He does not answer. You listen to his voicemail and grow progressively angrier. You mentally curse him and his next seven generations.

The weird blonde girl watches your frustration with a hint of amusement. This will not do.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” you ask her. She blinks, shrugs, and walks away.

Your name is Karkat Vantas, you’ve been in the loony bin for ten minutes, and you’re already pissed off. Score one, you.

Apparently you arrived just in time for morning meds, so all the fucking loonies are out on parade, including the blonde girl, who gives you a friendly wave. You scowl. Nobody has told you where to put your shit yet, or deigned to assign you a room. Not that you have much shit to put anywhere. Just the clothes you arrived in the psych ER with - a black turtleneck, and black sweatpants. They took away your shoes and gave you a pair of hospital socks.

Allegedly this is one of the nicest hospitals in the area. Go fucking figure.

Finally, after what feels like six hundred years, an orderly tells you that you’re in room 1224, on the men’s side.

Wait, there are sides? The psych ER wasn’t organized according to gender; you were stuck there with two homeless people (one man and one woman), an alcoholic, and some guy who had overdosed on alprazolam. Whatever, though. You shuffle your ass over to room 1224, which is about thirty feet away. You drop your stuff in the closet, take one look at your snoring roommate, and go back outside.

The blonde girl - having taken her medication - dashes back to the phone, dials a number, waits a moment, and then bursts into tears.

Great. You should have never written that note. Now you’re stuck in here with this chick. You contemplate trying to comfort her, and decide that you’d probably suck at it.

Another person saunters past her and stops. She’s a few shades lighter than you, and has these long Poetic Justice type box braids. Her green dress looks like it’s been immaculately pressed. She tugs the hem down to fully cover her thighs. She also has three eyebrow rings, a lip ring, and a full face of makeup. You didn’t know staff could have piercings. She offers the blonde girl a hug. You really didn’t know staff could do that.

This is not what you were expecting from the psychiatric ward.

“Roxy, why are you crying again?” the woman asks. Roxy sniffles and swipes at her eyes with the back of her arm.

“I had a nightmare and my mom won’t answer the phone,” she responds. “Where is she?”

“Asleep, most likely. It’s awfully early, isn’t it?”

“I guess so,” Roxy admits. She gives the woman a weak smile. “Did you go for vitals yet?”

The woman sighs and nods. “Yeah. 92/53. They’re telling me to drink more water since my pressure’s so low and my heart rate’s so high.”

Wait. That woman must be a patient.

She doesn’t seem like the type. She’s too authoritative, too poised.

You take a look at her again, scanning her for some sign of insanity. Maybe a few marks on her brown arms where the razor slipped. You search her carefully, not trying to seem like you are.

She has one thin, deep, healing scar down each wrist. Well, then.

She manages to pick up on you, because at that moment she turns to face you. She smiles.

“You must be the new admission to the unit,” she begins in a cool, pleasant tone. You’re reminded of a receptionist.

“Uh, yeah.”

She offers you her hand to shake. “I’m Porrim. Porrim Maryam.”

“Karkat,” you reply.

Trying to sleep in your room is an absolute trip. It goes the way everything in your life has been going, absolutely fuckawful.

“I won’t take it!” a high-pitched voice exclaims, all of a sudden, jolting you out of your light sleep. “Water you even playing at?!”

Oh, how you can empathize with that sentiment, furious as you are with whomever voiced it. Fuck the psych ward. With distinction. You peer out of your room, and watch a black girl in a purple onesie sprint down the hallway, yelling all the while.

Your roommate, who had heretofore been snoring with his mouth open fish-wide, starts to mutter things at the ceiling.

“Nurse Esther musta tried to give Clozapine to Fef again,” he says. “What an idiot.”

He looks at you and blinks. Fully registers your presence. He props himself up on one hand and stares some more.

“You must be my new roommate,” he says. “I think. Are you?”

You roll your eyes. “No, I’m just here for shits and giggles.”

He snorts and turns on the light. Apparently he’s got the front part of his blond hair dyed purple. You’d never do anything like that personally, but it looks okay on him. He gropes for his glasses and crams them onto his face.

“Christ, you look awful,” he says.

Where the fuck does he get off saying that?

“You don’t look so hot yourself.”

Your roommate curses and shakes his head.

“Nah, I didn’t mean it like that,” he goes on. “I mean, you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“I haven’t,” you reply, thinking of the time leading up to your suicide attempt. Not even an attempt, really. More like… a contemplation. A contemplation that led you to telling Kankri you’d rather jump in front of the train than send one more month in your parents’ house,

“Well, you’ll get lots of sleep here. There’s not much else to do. The name’s Eridan, by the way. Welcome to 3 East.”

“Thanks,” you say. “I’m Karkat.”

“Nice to meet you.”

A few minutes later, someone starts knocking on your door. Eridan groans.

“If it’s Roxy, tell her to come back in half an hour. I got ECT today. I need my beauty sleep.”

“The crying girl?” you ask.

“Was she on the phone while she was crying?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s Rox, then. She calls her mom every four hours and then flips a shit if she doesn’t answer,” Eridan says. “Ever heard of Rose Lalonde?”

Before you started transitioning a couple years ago, they had you in the women’s unit for a week. Dr. Lalonde saw you twice over that seven day period and was probably the only clinician who reliably used your pronouns.

“The psychologist for the unit downstairs?” you ask.

“Exactly,” Eridan says. “That’s Roxy’s mom.”

Well, fuck.

---

A couple of days later, there’s a new admission. Kid looks comprised of a bunch of coat-hangers and duct tape, all angles and gangle. He walks up to use the phone, without realizing there’s a line for the phone already behind him. Gamzee just rolls with it, even though he was next in line. This dude is clearly a massive douche. He’s only on for a couple of seconds though - you assume whomever he was calling didn’t pick up.

When the good ugly fairy was handing out ugly, she must have dumped in almost as much for him as she did for you. He is by far the skinniest dude you have ever seen. And being that everyone in your major in college was hopped up on amphetamines, you have seen some truly thin people. If a strong breeze hit him, he’d fly clear to Canada.

Roxy asks him for his name, and when he replies, “Thollukth Captor”, with the universe’s thickest lisp, you can’t help yourself. A snort escapes your mouth before you can take it back. The dude looks at you with a narrow-eyed suspicion, and you raise your eyebrows at him in response. How does he talk like that and not expect mockery?

“And uh...” Roxy trails off helplessly. “How do you spell that, exactly?”

“What’re you, with regithtration, or thomething?”

“I was just curious.”

You won’t laugh, Karkat. You swear it. You thwear it, to use this man’s parlance. Unfortunately, though, you’re grinning. His eyes alight on you, and he gives you a quick, “the fuck are you looking at, aththhole?”

“Call me an asshole again and I’ll cram those glasses so far up your ass they’ll need a colorectal exam to find them.”

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blissfulparker · 5 years

Text

Stuff that I started but never finished ♥︎

An actual compilation of my mess of a writing. This is stuff I never finish in 2019 because I lost motivation, ran out of ideas, fell asleep because it was just a 2am thought. It’s messy but here it is! Some of it is promises I could never even get around too, I’m sorry but I hope you enjoy!

Boxer!dad!tom x reader(I might finish this one for a writing challenge)

Summary: Tom comes home from a match, bruised and bloody. He hates the way he looks and never wants his daughter to see him like this, broken and in pain, but sometimes all his daughter wants to do is help.

Two clicks, two clicks was all you heard as Tom tried to stumble in quietly after a match. The door unlocked and swung open hitting the wall and you can hear Toms uneven breath begging for help. His body glisten in sweat and his hands held onto his stomach trying to cover up the large gauge that rested there.

“Tom?” You rubbed your eyes as you walked into the living room seeing him in the kitchen grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and chugging it as if it were his last bottle of water he were to ever drink. “Tom, come here.” You rush over to him and assist him with walking.

“I’ve got myself darling, you go back to—“ He starts and you look down at what he was holding. His hand covered in blood, that was no secret. The cut was oozing and it was stained purple and green around to show just how bad it was.

“Don’t tell me to go back to bed, you’re hurt.” You warned him as you helped him into the bathroom where you kept his emergency kit.

“Where is she?” He spoke mentioning your daughter who normally stayed up waiting for her father to tuck her in, even if that meant 1am.

“I put her to sleep hours ago.” You look at him and he breaks eye contact.

“Good, she doesn’t need to see me like this.” He sniffled. You knew that tom hated this, at least the day after Sophia was born. When his daughter was born he promised she’d never see her father broken, stumbling in and falling into pieces as her mother tried to fix him. Promised her she’d be safe and normal.

“Hey,” you tilt his chin up so he can look at you. “This doesn’t make you a bad parent.” You remind him and he nods. He feels the alcohol hit his skin and immediately hisses in pain.

“Daddy?” A small girl—

Peter Parker x reader

Summary: peters heater is broken so he substitutes his cuddles instead

Warm mug of tea meets your cold quivering lips.

Peters heater was broken, for the third time this month his heater was broken. He refused to get a new one, it was understandable since it was so expensive and peter was college student who could barely afford his own books. It also didn’t bother him, he had way more warmth for some odd reason and it didn’t bother his roommate ned either. But you swore If he didn’t get it fixed you would stop coming over.

“Peter,” you shiver and he looks up from his book. His face innocent and his body clean from goosebumps. “I’m cold.” You pout and he sees how you already have his flannel, his hoddie, his sweats, fuzzy socks, and you were ready to put on some gloves. There sat peter, short sleeves and sweats.

“Do you want a heating blanket? I think may packed some away somewhere.” He gets up to find something to help and you shake your head.

“Can we take a break and cuddle?” You asked. Peter loved cuddle breaks, more than any break in the world. Holding you in his arms and talking was just the start of something beautiful. Sometimes you’d fall asleep, sometimes you’d watch movies, others you’d simply just talk and then get up to do more work.

“C’mere.” He holds out his arms and you gladly fall into them. His skin warm and you’re still surprised that not a single goosebump messes with it. You curl into his chest as he holds you and you listen to the sound of his beating heart.

Ceo!dad!tom x singlemom!reader

From the series dine and dash I worte and loved over the summer. I wanted so badly to do an mini series but didn’t have enough ideas and people wanted black beauty more. So here is the start of something i never figured out

Dark roast coffee filled your nose on the early Tuesday morning.

Somehow, being six months pregnant, you got to sleep in. At first, the smell of coffee made you nauseous. Tom had Harrison bring him coffee since you didn’t like him making it at home. Now all you want is to have the taste of coffee and the feeling of caffeine run though your veins again.

“Daddy! I can’t find him! I don’t wanna go without him!” Cara whines as the Time was 8:15 and Cara didn’t have school so she was going to get dropped off at Toms mums house for the day.

“I don’t know Then princess, did mummy put him in the dryer?” He asked. It was pascal, the lizard from tangled she brought around everywhere.

Her feet pad down the hall as she nearly runs into you with a distraught look on her small face. You walked with her over to the dryer before handing her the doll.

“I found him!” She holds him up and then runs back to the couch.

“Can I have just a sip?” You joked. Tom always looked best in the morning, in your opinion. His hair gelled back and his suit still nice and crisp. His glasses sat pretty on his face just like the rest of his features.

“Very funny, hows He?” Tom asked. He was very excited, he would’ve loved a girl but there can only be one princess in charge, that was Cara.

“Wanting out, I can feel it.” You hold your swollen stomach. Everything hurt, it wasn’t as fun or cute as tom tried to make it.

Fwb!Tom x reader

Summary: too many weddings and too little people to fall in love with. You and tom both desperate for the love you deserve and what better place to realize it at your best friends wedding?

The dark blue dress hugged your body, it was tight, it felt so right against you skin. Parts of you wished you went with the gold but the dark navy blue was just as pretty too for the autumn wedding.

Your best friend was getting married, this would be the third wedding in the year span you’d be going to. First it was your sisters, then it was your cousins, now your best friends, and in a couple of months your other best friend would be getting married too in the nice London summer. You, you had this trouble finding love. You would have it in the palm of your hand and then it’d vanish. You tried everything, endless dates, one night stands, nobody stole your heart.

Now you had tom, Tom who was one of your friends who wasn’t getting married this year. You found him though Harrison, your best friends soon to be husband, after getting drunk at the engagement party a year ago you two started sleeping together. Swearing that even if you didn’t have lovers you’d have each other and a bed. It was just something so you two wouldn’t drown in your own sadness.

Soft fairy lights littered the ceiling and people danced. Tables with white tablecloths and a warm array of yellow and orange flowers, perfect for this season. You came alone, which you immediately regretted because everyone here had a date, everyone.

“I’m so glad you could make it to the after party!” Your best friend comes up to you and holds your hand. Her nails painted a beautiful pink and her dress now different than the one she wore this morning. She had the worlds biggest smile and the best diamond ring.

“Me too!” You smile and she looks behind you.

“Oh, thought you’d come with tom,” her smiles drops and your heart speeds up. She was probably the only one that knew about Tom, well, Harrison too since they were best friends.

“No, w-why would we come together?” You asked.

“He just...seemed disappointed this morning that you didn’t stay long after to talk with him. Thought maybe you two were trying to keep it low key but then you left and he got pouty and went back to his hotel too. I mean he came down for lunch and was better, thought maybe you two—“ she started to ramble but you shake your head tucking a hair behind your ear.

“No, I haven’t talked to him all day really.” You told her and she pouted again.

“Oh, well, he’s here...somewhere.” She smiles at you before kissing your cheek. “I’ve gotta go, Haz is gonna lose it without me!” She giggles as she runs off to her husband.

You walk around a bit, trying to find at least someone you knew who wasn’t occupied by a date. That’s when you found tom, all alone playing with the cherry in his drink as he scrolled through his phone.

“Hey stranger.” You walk up somewhat awkwardly and he smiles as he sits up a bit.

“Hey,” he sets his phone down and faces you. “Thought you might not show up.” He says and you look around.

“How could I not show up to my best friend's wedding.” You have him a warm smile. He nods as he looks around.

“I’m kinda over weddings.” He admits and you see some disappointment in his face. “My brother, Sam, he’s getting married soon. Well, engaged. He showed me the ring he got for her and it’s beautiful and I’m proud it’s just...I’m over seeing people get married.” He’s honest and you nod.

“My sister got married earlier this year, it was pretty but hell for me. It’s like we’re old now.” You take his drink from him and take a sip before making a sour face.

“It’s just a Shirley temple darling, not that hardcore.” He laughs a little and you shake your head.

“Still.” His arm moves around you and you lean your head on his shoulder. He’s your fuck buddy, you two sleep with each other and then leave. No hard feelings, no actual feelings, just fuck and leave.

“Do you wanna...dance?” You asked swallowing hard in the process.

#tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #imagine tom holland #tom holland au #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x you

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beckzorz · 5 years

Text

Patching Up (one-shot)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Words: 4045 Summary: Summertime, and the living is... interrupted by an injured Bucky Barnes falling face-first through your window. You’re not a nurse yet, but you’ve still got a duty to take care of him. And oh, you do. Warnings: NSFW (language, smut), 18+ A/N: Prompt from an anon! Nursing student!reader x hot mess!Bucky, although it’s hard to tell how much of a mess he is when all I can focus on is the ‘hot’ part. And bonus—it’s also @the-ss-horniest-book-club‘s Thirsty Thursday, so I’m just on time XD Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy :3

It’s stifling out. May shouldn’t be this hot. Shouldn’t be this cold, either—the weather is flip-flopping more than the primary polls, fifty one day and eighty the next. You’d had to pull your pea coat out from under your bed. Silly you for thinking spring had finally settled in.

Nope.

You’ve got every window in your apartment wide open, but the evening air is slow to filter in. If you weren’t a broke student, you’d turn on your AC. Not that you’ve even gotten around to putting the window units in yet. If only you could’ve gone with your roommate to her family’s beach home on the cape, but no, you’ve got your work at the school clinic. Not to mention a distinct lack of a nice enough bathing suit.

So instead of fun in the sun, you’re overworked and overheated, alone and surly. At least school’s done for the spring, and you don’t have to worry about summer classes now that you’ve finally passed A&P.

Thank goodness.

You fiddle with your phone as you lie spread-eagled on your bed, the oscillating fan on your dresser trailing up and down your body. It’s nice. You’ve just got on a cami and boy shorts as you wait for the room to cool enough for you to sleep; then you can crawl under your blanket and escape into a dream where, hopefully, you’ll be rich and famous and done with nursing school.

As if.

Well, at least there’s summer.

Summer with its heat and its smells and… the banging outside? You sit up slowly, confused. It’s nine-thirty PM, not AM. But it sounds like garbage trucks are rattling around the trash cans downstairs. A few steps to your open window, and you yelp, careening backwards as the screen rips and an unpleasantly familiar face topples inside.

“What the fuck!”

Bucky Barnes, sort-of superhero, groans into your scuffed wooden floor. His legs are bent, shoes halfway up your wall, shiny stains littering his black uniform. A metallic scent floods your senses; you wrinkle your nose before realization sets in.

It’s blood.

“Oh my god,” you breathe.

He lies there for what feels like forever before you can move.

He’s bleeding. You’re a nurse. Almost, anyway. It’s your job—your duty—to help.

Regardless of whether or not the reports of him going renegade are true.

—

The Winter Soldier is a good patient, all things considered. Follows instructions well, doesn’t mouth back, keeps his hands to himself. Questions pile in your mind, but you don’t have the courage to voice them until he’s sitting on the lip of your tub and you’re standing between his spread legs to bandage a gash on his forehead.

“What happened to you?” you ask quietly.

He hums. “I was wondering when you’d ask.” He winces as you dab at the cut with a damp washcloth, wiping the dried blood away. “HYDRA unit infiltrated SHIELD. Thought it’d be clever to frame me for something. Then they caught wind of my next assignment and ambushed me on the way back to the safe house.” He peers up into your face long enough for you to notice.

You look down at him, eyebrows raised.

He’s studying you closely, his blue eyes solemn and intense. For the first time, you realize just how vulnerable you are. A stranger in your bathroom, a bloody one at that. And a dangerous one, with far more muscle than you'll ever have. You should shiver, should be afraid—but you’re not.

He’s been staring at you for far too long.

“What?” you finally ask.

“My safe house is, uh, near here,” he says vaguely. “I…” He trails off, eyes shifting, and it clicks.

“You know I’m a nurse?”

He nods once, sharply.

You ought to be terrified now. Stalker? Spy? Assassin for sure. But all you can register is how sheepish he looks, unable to meet your eyes as you tape a bandage over his last cut. A man like this knows things whether he wants to or not. It’s clear he knows he shouldn’t know, and that he feels bad about it.

Well, no need to rub it in.

“Well, I’m glad I could help,” you tell him lightly. You step back, observe your handiwork. Not bad, considering your dim bathroom with its exposed pipes and one bulb blown out is hardly a sterile exam room. Or emergency room. Or… much of anything really. At least his face is clean. A nice face, a good face, especially with the light flush across his cheeks.

He blinks up at you. “Are ya?”

“I mean, it was either help you or let you bleed out on my bedroom floor.”

“Coulda called the cops,” he says. He prods his fingers against his ribs with a frown.

“Coulda. You want me to look at that?”

A nod.

You drop to your knees between his legs and glance up at him, checking. He swallows, hard. But he nods again. His tac vest and jacket are already piled in the tub, and he pulls his black undershirt up to his pecs with a wince.

Oh.

You blink. You really have to replace that busted bulb, because how the hell is this a surprise? There’s a blooming bruise on his side, but you barely notice it because oh my god is he ripped. Abs, Adonis belt, a trail of hair leading down, down, down—

He clears his throat.

You tear your eyes away, face burning. “I—I’m sorry,” you stammer. Oh god. All of a sudden, you’re all too aware of just how utterly fucked up the whole situation is. Not only is there a goddamn half-shirtless superhero in your bathroom, but here you are, kneeling between his legs in nothing but a camisole and booty shorts and there’s a flush on your face and your hands are itching to touch and meanwhile he’s got bruised ribs and—

A cool finger slides under your lax chin. Your eyes snap back to Bucky’s face, breath catching in your throat. His eyes aren’t quite so blue anymore; his cheeks aren’t quite so pale. He’s let go of his shirt, but it’s caught around his chest. You try very hard to keep your eyes on his face. The prickle of a flush spreads down from your cheeks to your neck, your chest, lower…

“Think you got a good enough look?” he asks huskily. There’s a glint in his eye, just smug enough to tick you off. You shake his hand off your face and duck your head to actually examine his ribs. If you press harder than you need to—well, that’s what he gets for not just going to a hospital.

“It’s just a bruise,” you announce. You scoot back and glare up at him as you climb to your feet. “Try not to get hit there again before you can rest, okay?”

He stands, slower than you. You glance at the bathroom door, but he doesn’t go.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. He doesn’t move, doesn’t even tug his shirt back into place. Just stands there, abs on full display and that bruise, that damn bruise. It’s blue, purpling at points and nearly green at others. How is it so advanced so fast? It must be whatever’s got his heart beating that fast, and his muscles so perfectly chiseled, and, and, and.

Your lips are dry. Your hands itch to touch the bruise again, to check it—the blood had been fresh out of his cuts, but this bruise looks days old.

“Did all this happen today?” you ask.

He blinks. Nods. A little smile lifts the corner of his mouth as he pulls his shirt back into place, but it’s not smug like his earlier smirk had been. More… fond. Like he’s known you for years, and you’re all he ever wants to smile at again.

“I knew you were smart,” he murmurs.

Your eyes widen. Your tongue darts out to wet your dry lips. “What—what do you mean?”

“I see you studying,” he says. “You keep your shades open.” He tucks his hair behind his ear, face pink again. “I can see from my kitchen window. You—it’s hard not to watch you work. Better’n just staring at the dishes.”

A giggle falls from your lips. “Are you saying I’m a dish?”

“I—” He blinks. Stares. Then he laughs, one loud burst of it before he’s hissing, hand flying to his ribs again. You rush forward the step and a half to check on them yourself, your hand brushing his as you feel those wonderful muscles under your fingers.

“It’s alright,” you tell him. You glance as far up as his mouth and back to his chest, but then his finger slides back under your chin.

This time, you don’t bat him away.

You let him lift your face until you have no choice but to meet his gaze. It’s sweltering, and it’s not just the lack of air conditioning or two people standing in a tiny windowless bathroom or the absolute stillness of the air. It’s the touch of that metal hand on your chin, his chest practically brushing against yours, the prickling of a flush that’s going far past the neckline of your cami. It’s his mouth, pink and plush, surrounded by the shadow of his scruffy beard. It’s his eyes, dark like the sea; you could drown in them, if you wanted.

And oh, you want.

His eyes flit across your face, settle on your lips. He doesn’t move, just waits, breathing shallow and pupils dilating as you watch.

He’s waited long enough.

You rise up on tiptoe, slide a hand into his hair, and pull his mouth to yours. And oh, it’s beautiful.

His lips are soft, just as plush as they look. Warm, dry, just enough give. And he tastes like every sweet thing you’ve ever denied yourself, like rich chocolate and fresh mint and something secret you wouldn’t know how to ask for if you tried. And here you are, getting it anyway.

Bucky is tentative at first, barely moving, but then you press your whole body against him and he groans into your mouth. His other arm circles your waist and pulls you even closer, his belt digging into your stomach and his pants rough against your bare legs. But you don’t care. All you care about are those lips searing yours, the hand kneading the skin of your hip through your camisole, the metal hand winding its way around your neck. And then there’s the way his chest drags against yours, the way your shirt bunches around your waist, baring more skin to the air, to his touch.

Your calves start to burn from standing on tiptoe for so long, and you drop back down to your heels, pulling him with you, your back arched as he bends just enough. God, that this moment never ends.

But he breaks the kiss, panting. You bite back a whine as he presses his forehead to yours, his eyes squeezed shut.

“God,” he rasps, “is this real?”

A pinch of his side—the unbruised one. He twitches, but doesn’t pull away. You smile, just able to make out the curve of his cheek as he does as well.

“If not, then we’re both dreaming,” you say.

“Well, here’s to never waking up.”

—

How you end up in your room is a mystery. All you know is that he’s kissing you, and then you’re on your back on your bed, breathless as he peels his shirt off, kicks his pants away. For the first time, you see him in all—well, nearly all, he’s still got his boxer briefs on—his glory. The shining metal arm, only just as sculpted as the other; the pecs lightly dusted with hair and far more heavily with a flush; that trail of hair leading down, down, down.

Bucky crawls over you, muscles shifting so beautifully as he gazes down at you as worshipfully as if he were gazing up at God. You reach up to tuck his hair behind his ears, certain you look loopy from the warmth bubbling in your chest. There’s the heat thrumming through you, but that warmth…

It’s not the usual fire under your skin that you get from a one-night stand. It’s something else. Something softer.

Bucky’s legs bracket yours as he ducks his head to nuzzle that tender spot at the crook of your neck.

“Mm.”

You sigh, hands carding through his hair as he curls his left arm under your shoulder. The metal is smooth, strange to the touch—you’ve never been touched by moving metal before, and it’s thrilling, new.

He’s hovering over you, braced by his bent arms and legs. His breath is warm on your neck. You breathe him in, his strong clean scent, just touched with the smell of your soap and the leftover smell of blood, and beneath all that something unique and spicy and dark and him.

Enough foreplay.

You shift your legs until he’s between them. Bucky lifts his head, eyes fixed on yours as you hook your foot around his calf.

“You’re awful far away,” you tell him. A tug of his hair, and he half-collapses on top of you, face inches from yours. You’re drowning in those sea-dark eyes. For the first time, you can feel him hard against you, the heat from his body almost scalding. You swallow a moan, afraid to break whatever spell you’re under.

“How close do you want me?” he murmurs.

Your smile is slow, greedy. You slide your hands down his neck, his back—oh, you’re dying to get a look at those beautiful muscles shifting under your hands—to squeeze his bum.

“How close can you get?”

His growl is positively feral. He covers you entirely, his weight delicious and heavy and stifling but you can’t get enough. His lips trail kisses down your neck, and the warmth blooming in your chest sparks, ignites, burns. Desire tingles in your chest, your arms, curling your fingers and toes as his clever mouth works at every sensitive spot along your throat. His teeth nip at your collarbone. You curve up against him, into him, head falling back as something primal surges through your veins. His hand slides under your top, peeling it away from your scorching skin, and then his mouth is on your breast.

“O-oh!”

Your hands fist in his hair as your eyes squeeze shut. You don’t realize you’re pulling hard until he groans, but it’s the kind of groan that makes your legs clench and a fresh rush of want pool at your core. His tongue rolls, laps, flicks, and you’re a babbling mess begging for you don’t even know what. Anything, whatever he wants, except to stop.

God, let it never stop.

He shifts to the other side, pays your other breast equal attention while completely ignoring how you’re grinding up against him, seeking desperately for the angle that will give you relief. But your pesky boyshorts and his pesky briefs are still in the way, and with his mouth glued to your chest, there’s no way you can win.

“Bucky,” you whine. “Closer.”

You can feel him smile against your breast. One last kiss to that sensitive skin—you twitch, gasp, unable to help yourself—and then he’s closer, hips nudging your legs further apart as he finally, finally, settles properly between them. Like he’s here to stay.

He brushes back the baby hairs at your temple as his eyes trace every line of your face. “Beautiful,” he murmurs.

“Ditto,” you whisper back. Your hands follow their trail down his back a little slower this time, mapping him out, testing the waters, watching the way his shoulder moves, until you reach his waistband. A glance back into his face, and his quick nod is all the confirmation either of you need.

Bucky yanks off your cami the rest of the way, you push down his briefs, somehow you get out of your boyshorts, and then there’s only him, burning you up from the outside in until he’s burning you up from the inside out.

Your mouth falls open with the stretch. You hadn’t even had a chance to look at him, to take him in, but he’s thick enough to have you scrambling at his back for purchase as he takes you apart in a single slow push.

He stills halfway in, his head dropping onto your shoulder as he struggles for breath. “Fuck, gorgeous. You—oh, fuck.”

You press a kiss to his hair. His chest rubs delicious friction against yours as he breathes those pretty broken breaths. Other than that, he’s immobile. Too long passes as he lays still, gathering himself. Impatient, you clench around him, tilting your hips up so he’s fully sheathed. You lower your hips, then raise them again, fucking up into him as he groans, one of his hands straying to his side before you remember the damn bruised ribs. You drop back onto the mattress, regret coiling in your gut as he pulls out and collapses onto his back beside you with a hiss.

Here you are, a nurse, and you’re hurting your patient. And screwing them, but that’s besides the point.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky says woefully. He grabs your hand, tugs you into his arms. “God, I’m sorry—”

“Well, don’t take all the credit,” you tell him, forcing a smile. “I literally just told you to get rest.”

He snorts, hisses, buries his face in your hair. “If only I could move, god, the things I’d do to you…”

You sit up, suddenly inspired. He can’t move, but you can. Besides, now you can see him.

And oh, what a pretty picture he makes. All those ridges of muscle, the sharp lines of his Adonis belt all the way down.

“The things I’m gonna do to you,” you murmur. You sling a leg over his hips and settle on top of him, his hard length between your legs. Slow drags of your hips send fresh bursts through you, from your core to your chest to behind your eyes, tickling your brain. Your legs are shivering. You reach back and grab his thighs, afraid to touch his torso for fear of those damn ribs, but you’ve got to hold on somewhere because there’s nothing left holding you up.

Your eyes flutter closed as you rub against him, and then a cool slick hand wraps around your right thigh. Your eyes snap open. You stare, breathless, hips still moving, as Bucky slides his hand higher, higher, until his thumb brushes against that one spot—

You’re a goner.

How you stay upright is a miracle. No muscle in your body is untouched; you’re a quivering mess atop him, breathy moans filling the air along with Bucky’s worshipful praises.

“So beautiful, so good, so sweet, god, you look so good, you smell so sweet—”

His metal hand works you through it. There’s no sense left in your brain to process his words beyond yes, good, he’s still here and oh god bless him and I want everything he can give me.

By the time you’re back to your senses enough to unclamp your hands from his thighs, you realize you’ve slid back. Bucky’s stroking himself lazily, the evidence of your release easing his way as he gazes up at you like the moon’s hung in your eyes.

“I could watch you all day,” he says.

You lean down, careful to avoid touching his ribs, and frame his face in your hands. “I could do this all day.” A kiss to those plush lips, and then you lift your hips, reach back, shift your weight, and—

“Oh fuck,” you groan.

He fills you entirely this time, just the slightest tilt of his hips as you sit back up. His hands catch yours, propping you up as you gasp for breath. It’s a minute to adjust—more than you usually need, but he’s more than you usually… well, he’s more than usual. You blink the stupor from your eyes, but the look on Bucky’s face is enough to keep you tongue-tied even if your body is aching for more.

Bucky’s face is awash with light, with longing and relish and so much beauty that you almost want to cry. You’ve never had such a beautiful man in your bed, let alone one who looks at you like you’re every good thing he’s ever seen.

You rock back onto him, unable to take your eyes away. In no universe, in no alternate timeline, could you look away from him. How could you? He’s the one with the stars in his eyes.

Every drag of your hips, every hitch of your breath or his, sends you careening along a knife’s point. There’s no escaping this, the feel of him, the contrast of his hands, one slick and sticky with your release, the other warm and dry. The broad expanse of his chest rising and falling rapidly, the grunts as he bucks his hips up just enough to nudge a secret spot inside you, his hiss when you pull a hand free to scissor your fingers between your legs, around him, the heel of your hand digging against that little bundle of nerves that’s about to blow.

You force your eyes to stay open as Bucky’s hips start to stutter, as he stretches you just that little bit more, as curses fall from his pretty pink lips. You want to watch him come undone—have to watch the power you have, for tonight and maybe, probably, never again. His eyes roll back, squeeze shut, and then his abs clench so beautifully as he spills inside you.

A few more rolls of your hips, the desperate shove of his flesh fingers between your legs, a million pounds of pressure at your core, and you’re gone.

This time, you fall forward, convulsing around him, a soundless scream streaming out of you as you clench around him, pleasure radiating through you in endless waves, his other hand tilting your head so he can latch his lips to your throat. You can feel him there at your neck, between your legs, under you, everywhere.

Then, nothing.

For a full minute, you’re motionless, senseless, adrift in a cloud of after-effects and the slow, weighty realization that this is the closest you’ll ever get to heaven.

The first sensation you feel is Bucky’s hands stroking your back. Then, his lips against your temple. The smell of sex in the air, the sounds of nighttime in the city.

He seems to know when you’re back to yourself. “You alright, gorgeous?”

“Mm.” It’s true. You’re so blissed out you could cry. What gave him the right to be so beautiful, so worshipful? So good, so sweet? So kind?

You tuck your face into the crook of his neck and trace his bruised side.

“You?” you ask.

“Well,” Bucky says, “I can’t say you didn’t take good care of me.”

You smack his chest, laughing a little. He gathers you up in his arms and kisses you dizzy.

“You beautiful woman,” he murmurs against your lips. “I shoulda knocked on your door days ago.”

“Yes you shoulda.” You kiss him until spots dance behind your eyes. Settle back tucked against his side, your fingers tracing the beautiful lines of his torso. “But I’ll take what I can get.”

“Oh?” Bucky’s voice dips dangerously low.

You crane your neck to stare, lips parted.

“You know,” he says, almost casually, “I heal really fast.”

“I noticed…”

“If you can wait—” he looks up, and you can just imagine the calculating he’s doing in his head— “thirty-five minutes, I think I can get you more.”

“Well,” you say, throat suddenly awfully dry, “like I said. I’ll take what I can get.” You reach up, trace his jaw. “In the meantime, do you mind if I just… hold you?”

Bucky’s eyes refasten on yours. There’s that warmth in your chest again, that star-light in his eyes, and you think that maybe you did drown in them tonight.

“I don’t mind,” he tells you. He pulls you back into his arms, one of your legs draped over his. He kisses your forehead, traces your cheek. “I don’t mind.”

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #winter soldier imagine #becca writes #bucky barnes smut

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kucka-g · 5 years

Text

Beetledad thing

I have never written anything in my life but got so inspired by @colanom 's beetledad Frank 'Rigel' Shaggoth that i had to put this down into words.

It's a platonic reader insert

TW: mild angst

______________________________________

Beetlejuice was curently laying on his bed, playing with the rubix cube you had given him. You, for the lack of something better to do, were looking around all the different things Beej keept in his room.

There were all sorts of stuff: things that you had gifted to him, random junk that he had found outside, containers filled with bugs and some of his possesions from the netherworld.

One item in particular seemed to peak your intrest. It was a book, that you never noticed before. It looked kinda ancient. It had a dark brown leather cover with some indecipherable runes on it. You picked it up.

"Yo, BJ! What's that?"The demon look up lazily in your direction and explained "That ol' thing? I don't know, realy. Stole it from my mom's office once. Couldn't read it tho cuz it's mostly written in some weird language." with that he went back to solving the rubix cube. "You can have it if you want." he added. You immediately got excited after hearing this. He knew how much you liked all that cryptic, unsolvable mystery stuff."Realy? Thanks".

And that's how you spent the next few days thoroughly analizing the book, page by page. Just like Beetlejuice said, you couldn't understand most of what was written but you didn't need to understand to stay interested in it.

You were sitting comfortably on you living room couch. Book in hand, you finnished studying another page. You took one last glance at it until you decided it was time for the next one. You went to flip the page. But... what was that? This page felt heavier than all the previous ones. Not only that, it also seemed to be thicker. You pulled the book closer to your face to further examine this page.

And, in fact, this wasn't a regular page. It were two pages, but glued together. Jackpot! And here you thought the book couldn't get anymore interesting. Your mind flooded with questions. Why are the pages glued together? Who glued them shut? But most importantly :What was hidden between them? Well, you were just about to find out.

You picked the spot in witch the glue was the weakest. Then slowly and carefully pulled the pages aparat as to not demage either one of them. The moment you parted the pages a piece of paper fell out of the hidden space and landed at your feet. You put the book down on the coffee table, the piece of paper now catching all your attention. You stood up from the sofa and picked up the paper that turned out to be a photo.

The photo showed a mam holding a baby. At first glance you'd say the man was Beetlejuice, but the longer you looked at him the more differences you noticed. For starters, he was notably slimer. His hair was longer, it was green, just like BJ's, but he had some gray roots poking out from behind his ears, the green was also slightly fading into pink at the tips. His nose and ears were longer and rather sharp, opposed to Beej's rounder facial features. He was wearing a black suit covered in thin white stripes with a blood-red dress shirt. In addition to that his pupils were cross-shaped and his lips formed a genuine wholesome smile. There was no denying this man resembled Beetlejuice a lot. Could he be a relative? Perhaps even his runaway father.

That was enough pondering about the man, so you turned your gaze to the baby. A typical baby-shaped baby. It was wearing a striped onesie. On it's head was a wild bush of green locks. With it's tiny grabby hands it was holding onto the man's fingers and smiling up at him.

If this man realy was BJ's relative, that must mean the baby was the Beetleman himself. You couldn't help the smirk that crept onto your lips at the adorable image of your best friend as a baby. You looked at the photo in all it's glory for a short while longer. You just had to show this to BJ.

As if on cue, a dirty head peeked over your shoulder. "Whatcha got there, Babes?" he questioned. You handed him the photo so he could get a better look. Almost immediately his face flushed in disbelief. He pulled it away from himself before pulling it closer to his face as if to make sure he was seeing this right. And he just continued staring at it without saying a word or even making a sound.

You decided to leave him to it for now and turned your atention back to the book, that was still open on the previously glued together pages. You scanned the contents of pages, mindlessly mumbling underneath your breath as you read.

"Rigel... Rigel... Rigel..."

As the last word left your mouth and the air around you suddenly became heavy, your brain connected the dots and you quickly realized what you had just done. " Oh shit" was all you said before both you and Beej focused on the dark mist that was forming in front of you.

Out of the mist emerged a man, not just any man, the man from the photo. The mist started fading as he fell to his hands and knees. He looked exhausted, he was breathing heavily, gasping for air and coughing occasionally. All the while you and Beetlejuice were frozen in place, neither of you daring to avert your eyes from him.

His breaths finally started to get steady and he looked up, franticly looking around the room. Then his gaze landed on Beetlejuice. The man stared at him for a moment before his expresion perked up in recognition. " L-Lawrence?" the man spoke softly , his voice hoarse. He must have not used it for quite a while.

At the mention of your friends first name you turned to him, looking at him for the first time since the strange man arrived. All you could see in his face was shock and confusion. His hair kept shifting between various shades of purple, blue and yellow. "Dad..." that was all BJ could muster out of his mouth.

"Son... Oh god. I-i thought i'd never see you again" the man continued, with a tone that sounded both sad and relieved, as he stood up and took a step closer. Beej sterted backing up at that." N-No. You... you left us, you were g-gone for decades" He mumbled, more to himself than to his father.

His father was taken aback by this. A frown now apearing on his face. " I never meant to leave you. Please, just let me explain" he pleaded.

Beetlejuice clutched his head with his hands, slightly pulling at his colorful hair "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no" he just kept repeating. He was clearly overwhelmed by the entire situation. You wanted to reach out for his arm to try to calm him down but before you could do anything he was already dashing up the stairs. With that you just stood there switching your gaze between the staircase and Rigel while deciding what you should do next.

"Uhm... Excuse me for a minute" you told the demon and rushed up the stairs. You needed to check up on your friend. Just like you assumed Beetlejuice had gone to his room. He was sitting next to the bed, head still in hands, he was trying to calm down. You slowly made your way towards him. You gently put your hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay, Bug?" you asked. He took a deep breath and then answered "I'll be f-fine... I... wanna be alone right now". You wanted to be there for him but you knew that he just needed some space sometimes. "Alright. Come downstairs whenever you're ready" you offered him a soft smile before leaving his room. You made your way back downstairs.

Rigel was still standing in the same spot he did before, now awkwardly looking at the floor and fiddling around with his fingers. His hair turned mostly purple. He is a demon, he is definitely dangerous, but he didn't seem to have any ill intentions. You weren't sure what to think of him yet, you decided to treat him with hospitality for now. He looked up at you as you approached him.

"Please, take a seat" you offered, motioning to the armchair that stood beside him. With a sigh, he sat down. "Can i get you anything? Coffee? Tea? Water?" this came out sounding kinda robotic as you couldn't decide on what tone to pick up. Nonetheless he took you up on the offer. "I guess i'd appreciate a cup of tea" you gave a quick nod and disappeared into the kitchen

You decided to make a cup for yourself aswell. Making the tea gave you a chance to calm down a little and collect your thoughts.

Rigel didn't seem like a bad person, but you know that looks can be deceiving. You shouldn't let your guard down. Before you knew it the tea was ready.

As you reentered the living room, tea in hand, you saw that Rigel was preoccupied with the photo of him and Babyjuice. The purple in his hair retreating. He was looking at it with a soft expresion, probably reminiscing the time in which said photo was taken. You set one of the teacups down on the coffee table in front of him. He thanked you quietly as you took a seat on the couch. The both of you just sat there and sipped tea for a few minutes in a somewhat awkward silence.

"So..." you started. "You are BJ's father?" the answer to that was obvious by now but you had no idea what else to ask. He just noded at this "please, you can call me Frank" he said while offering you a handshake. "Nice meeting you Frank. I'm (Y/N)" you shook his hand. Now it was his turn to ask a question. "How do you know Lawrence?" You looked down at your cup, recalling your first encounter with your supernatural friend. A small smile wandered onto your face " I met him around a year ago. He was suposed to hount my house but we quickly grew fond of one another. And eventually we become roommates." Frank smiled at your little story aswell. "that's nice" he commented.

The two of you continued your small talk. And by small talk you mean him asking you questions about Beetlejuice and you answering them to your best ability.

It didn't take long for all the doubts that you had about Frank to dissolve into thin air. There was no way this man had purposefully abandoned his family. You were sure of it. This meant Juno must have not told BJ the truth about his father. What a surprise. You've never met this woman but you truly hated her like the plague. Beetlejuice had told you about various things his mother has said or done to him. You get that she's a literal demon but, sheesh, that doesn't excuse her for being a toltal bi*ch.

Frank eventualy ran out of questions and you slipped into a more comfortable silence than before. The silence was only interrupted by the long awaited sound of footsteps going down the stairs. Both you and Frank turned towards Beetlejuice. His hair was a dark brownish-green, a dead serious expression on his face. You have seen him be serious before but he has never looked THAT serious. His gaze was fixated on Frank. He made his way to the couch and sat down next to you. You took this as your cue to leave the room and give the pair of demons some privacy but before you could do anything Beej gently placed his hand on your forearm. He looked at you with pleading eyes, wordlessly telling you to stay. You didn't questions it and just gave him a firm nod. You simultaneuosly looked at Frank.

"Well..." BJ started "Explain yourself".

Frank took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts.

He explained everything. How he met Juno. How they(or just him actualy) fell in love. How they got married and had Lawrence. And finally, how she betrayed him. Throughout the entire recap Beej was intensely focused on his father, as to not miss a single word that escaped his mouth.

"... and with that she sent me back to were i came from, to spend the rest of eternity in solitude. I definitely had a lot of time to think and i realised many things that i should have realised sooner. Juno never loved me, she was only using me for her own gain. I knew she would try to use you aswell and the thought of that was devastating. My biggest fear was that you might grow up to become just like her... I'm glad to see that you're doing fine" and just like that he ended his explanation, now awaiting BJ's reaction.

Beetlejuice turned his gaze towards the floor, still procesing all the newfound information. After a moment he sighed and stood up. Still holding a serious face, he slowly made his way towards his father, causing Frank to stand up aswell. Beej stopped right in front of him for a second and looked up into his eyes. The tention of the moment was quickly dissolved when Beetlejuice wraped his arms around the other demon in a tight embrace. His hair has turned into a parade of greens and pinks with a few blue steaks inbetween. It took Frank a moment to register what was happening but soon he gladly copied his son's action. Beetlejuice burried his head into Franks chest as he started sobbing. Between his sobs he menaged to muster out "I've missed you, dad" Now it was Frank's turn to brake out into sobs "I've missed you too, my little imp".

They both continued to cry as they hugged.

You quitly slipped out of the room, careful not to disturb the tender moment that had just played out before your eyes. You gave them one last glance, smiling at the wholesomeness, before leaving to your room, in order to give the pair some much deserved father-son time.

_________________________________________

#beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #fanfic #Beetledad #fanfiction #beetlejuice fanfiction #Frank Rigel Shaggoth

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starshineskyandthepowerofrock · 4 years

Text

Winter Break

Part 22 of Starshine, Sky, and the Power of Rock.

"Isn't there ice on the moon?" Star asks me as we untie our skates.

"Mm hm," I say. "But gravity isn't as strong as it is down here, so we can't really skate on it."

Sky bangs the heel of her skate on the pavement, knocking shimmery ice off the blade. "You'll get the hang of it."

"Well, thanks for at least trying to teach me, guys," I say.

We find Gossamer and Pearl sitting at one of the tables set up around the rink, hidden among lots and lots of bustling people in a rainbow of warm coats.

"Your drinks are getting cold," Gossamer says, handing us paper cups. The warmth that I'd hoped would help thaw my numbing fingers doesn't come when I take mine. Star and Sky both take sips only to pull back with grimaces.

"Yeah, this is basically chocolate milk," Sky says.

Star giggles. "I guess we were out there a bit too long." She starts standing up. "Here, why don't I-"

"I can get us some new ones!" I say.

"Oh, you don't have to do that, Crescent," she says, patting me on the shoulder.

"No, really, I can! See?" I stand up and only stumble a little this time. "I'll be fine!"

She sits back down. "Okay, then."

Now that I'm looking, the nearest hot chocolate stand is a lot farther away than I'd been imagining. It wouldn't have been very far for Star, but for someone who had to go through months of training just to learn how to walk on this planet it's a bit more of a challenge. But that's no reason not to try!

Heel-toe heel-toe heel-toe- toe toe toe! I'm only an inch away from bumping into a fairy family but dodge them just in time. Heel-toe heel-toe- heel-heel toe-heel toe-heel toe-heel... I'm almost there!

"Oof!" I've bumped into someone! "I'm so sorry!" I tell her. She's bundled up to her eyes in red and black. "I- I'm still getting used to moving around down he-"

"It's fine," she says, brushing past me. But just before she and the pink-haired girl she's with leave, I catch a glimpse of their eyes, blood red against their pale skin. My heart skips a beat. But all they do is grab a couple hot chocolates and disappear into the crowd.

My breath quickens. What does this mean? Are we in trouble? Are they from the Band of Darkness? Should I tell someone? I think back to the raids that have happened this year alone. They usually happen while we're in class, but sometimes I catch glimpses of the destruction outside the classroom windows. When they happen on the weekends we'll be escorted into the palace and put on lockdown. Not to mention three of my band members have been attacked by them! Star and Gossamer have to hold each other when they catch word of another raid. Sky can keep a tough face but I see her shaking when it happens, too.

But... these vampires weren't doing anything, though. They just took some free drinks and left. Left to do what? I don't know. Drink them, I guess. One of the drinks I'm getting is for a vampire. Maybe they just want a hot chocolate on a cold day like she does. Maybe they aren't with the Band of Darkness like she isn't.

Oh, there's a crowd forming around me! I pick up five cups (it's a little complicated but I'll manage) and decide that if the alarm doesn't sound then we'll be fine.

🌙🌙🌙

Star has been inviting us to weekend spa days in her room ever since that one spa didn't let Sky in. I think the DIY face masks we're making are a lot more fun anyway. Today we're sitting in front of her fireplace in our robes taking turns smearing fruity-smelling slimes on each other's faces. Star doesn't like when I call them slimes but they sure feel that way to me. I think it makes them more fun!

"So, I invited Citrus, but he turned it down again," Star says, applying under eye patches to Sky's dark circles.

"Not all your friends will like each other," Gossamer says as she mixes some more charcoal into her bowl.

Star sighs. "Yeah, I guess... It's just gonna be so awkward for winter break, though! His whole band is going home but he's staying and so is Sky, so what am I supposed to do? I don't want either of you to be lonely."

"Don't worry, it takes a lot to get me feeling lonely," Sky says, already picking at one of the patches. "Plus, Crescent will be here to keep me company, woncha?"

"Mm hm!" I say. "The ship only lands to drop us off in the fall and pick us up in the summer, so I'll be right here!"

Gossamer sighs, now applying her charcoal mask to Pearl. "I wish I could stay, too. But elves are supposed to take our holidays very seriously. I'm already in it deep with my father as it is. If I disrespected our traditions any more I don't think I'd live to tell the tale."

"On the bright side, at least Summer is also in trouble with him for the arm thing," Star says. She stills Sky's hands and smooths out the patches. "So she'll be off your back, at least."

"For now," Gossamer sighs.

"I still don't get why you guys have to go all the way to the north pole for a holiday," Sky says. "What is it you guys do there again? Build stuff?"

Gossamer fans Pearl's face to help it dry and starts applying the rest of the mask to Star. "We make toys. A really long time ago there was an old elf who lived up there and found a portal to another dimension or something, and instead of using his knowledge to further investigate the existence of a wider multiverse he distributed handmade gifts to the children there once a year. So now all the elves make this big trek up north every winter to help his descendants finish that year's workload. Last year I made over 200 dolls."

"Wow," we all say, even Pearl. As the others' conversation shifts to winter holidays and multiverse theories, I can't help wondering what was going on with those vampire girls today. The alarm never did sound, so I can only guess they didn't hurt anyone. So why do I feel bad about not telling my friends about them? All I did was bump into them, really. That's hardly something to mention when I bump into people every day. But if I told them who I bumped into today, I know they'd freak. Right?

🌙🌙🌙

I'm still thinking about all this come next weekend, when the palace travels around the whole kingdom dropping off the students who'll be staying home for winter break. In Hillside, we take turns hugging Gossamer goodbye and try to help her load her luggage into one of the big flying sleighs that they'll be taking to the north pole. Summer and Star exchange dark glares. So do Mr. Glade and Sky. But nothing happens, probably because others were watching, so the Glades leave without a scene.

Once we get to the East Shore, it's time to wave off Pearl and the other merpeople. I'd really been hoping I would have known my own roommate a bit better at this point, but when we tell her bye it's still a bit awkward. She doesn't say much more than a little "Bye." She does let us stroke her horse's scaly neck, though. Then she hops on his back and rides into the sea with the others. A few moments later, shimmery green, blue, and purple tails flap above the surface before diving into Saline Deep.

Sky stays put a bit longer after they've all left. Star and I follow her sightline to the Isle of Isolation, a dark little blip on the clear blue horizon.

"I could make it back," she says.

"You know it's too dangerous," Star reminds her gently. "Who knows what they'll do with you once you're back in their territory? And if your family was found harboring you..." Sky's doing the thing where her face doesn't move. I can't tell enough what she's thinking to give any input but Star reads her eyes enough to say, "You won't be alone." She takes her gloved hand. "See?"

Sky gives a sad little smile. "I guess you're right." She turns to me and offers her hand. "Plus, I'm not the only homesick one here, I'm sure."

I raise my eyebrows, not really sure why I'm surprised by her saying this. "Oh!" I say. I take her hand. "Yeah, seeing the moon again would be nice."

🌙🌙🌙

On the moon, we don't sleep in beds but in rest chambers. They're these ceiling-to-floor air-sealed padded boxes that we float around in while we sleep. There's no blankets 'cause it's perfectly temperature-controlled. They can even play music! Or white noise, if that's your thing.

Mine here is super comfy! The pads are cotton candy colored, which I love! And it's the only place I have where the physics are anything like home. Home...

I wonder what I'd be doing on winter break if I'd went home. We don't really have winter there, or any other seasons, and there's no holiday around this time. It'd be nice to see my old friends, though. I haven't really thought about them a whole lot, 'cause every time I do I get sad that they're not here. My mom just told me that it'd be fine, 'cause I'd have new friends here. And she's right, but... It doesn't keep my chest from tightening a bit when I think about them.

They'd, um...

The thing was, we had a band, me and my moon friends. That was how I learned the drums. And it was super fun! Especially since they argued way less than my parents did. I preferred being out of the house drumming away as long as I could before I had to come home to hear either one announce again that they were leaving before deciding again that it was a bad idea...

Hm...

These thoughts aren't helping me sleep. It also doesn't help that I'm upside down. I right myself and try to think about something else.

Those vampire girls are an interesting thing to think about. There isn't much to work with, though. I've been thinking in circles about them for days now. Maybe I should just get some warm milk.

When I walk out to the living room, I find Sky holding her stuffed spider and nursing a steaming mug by the kitchenette. She has her earbuds in, but takes one out when she notices me.

"You can't sleep either?" I ask her.

She shrugs. "Something like that. Warm milk?"

I nod and she puts another mug in the microwave.

"School breaks are usually when I kill my sleep schedule," she says, watching the mug spin. She takes it out and hands it to me. "I may be done with sleep for the night."

I blow and sip. "I'm still trying to start."

She sucks air through her teeth. "I know that feeling. Something bothering you?"

I shake my head, guilty about not telling her but not enough to, well, tell her. But maybe there is something she can give me perspective on. "I've just been wondering about stuff."

"Like what?"

"Well... Is it normal for monsters to come to the Land of Light?"

She tilts her head, not smiling anymore. "Why do you ask?"

"O-oh, it's not about you, I get why you're here. I was wondering more about, um. See, the thing is I, uh. I saw some vampires the other day. When we were skating?"

She furrows her brow a bit. "Uh huh?"

"And they just took some hot chocolate and left, you know? Without doing anything else. So I was curious if monsters come here a lot. For, like. Not war reasons."

Sky takes her time finishing her milk before answering my question. "It's not normal, that's for sure. I mean, we haven't been straight-up banned from coming in the Land of Light since, like, fifty years ago." She gestures to herself. "Clearly. But I've never met a monster that wanted to come here for, like, a vacation or something. We're usually taught to think of this place as enemy territory. So, I can't tell you what that was about."

I want to ask further but worry about bringing up memories from earlier this year. "You don't think they were... um..."

"With the Band of Darkness?"

I nod.

She thinks for a bit. Then she shrugs. "Can't tell you."

Well, that's not very helpful.

Sky stretches her shoulders and heads for her bedroom. "Ah well, I'm sure it's nothing," she says on her way out. I'm about to go back to my own room when I notice her come back out with a notebook in her hands.

"What's that?" I ask.

She looks up, surprised I'm still here. "Huh? Oh, uh... just writing something."

"Another song?"

She nods.

"Can I hear?" I ask.

"Uh..." Sky scratches the back of her head, backing away.

"You don't have to," I say. Oh no, I've messed up! "It's okay, really!"

Sky relaxes a bit. "Thanks."

🌙🌙🌙

Just when I'm finally drifting off to sleep, I'm woken up by a knock on the door to my rest chamber. The world is diagonal, almost upside down when I open my eyes, so I make sure to right myself so my feet can touch the floor when I turn off the antigravity and open the door to Sky.

"I wanna show you something," she says. She leads me out of my room and surprises me by making her way for the door to the hallway.

"I thought we couldn't leave our dorms after sundown," I say.

"We can. We just aren't allowed to." She cracks open the door. Then in a puff of dark red smoke she's turned into a bat. Hovering in front of my face she whispers, "Stay in the shadows," and slips through the crack. I push the door open a bit further and tiptoe out behind her.

My heart goes pitter-pat with excitement as I creep along, keeping close to the wall and in the darker areas like Sky said. She flaps her way into the First Year girls' common room, who's door has been left ajar. When I open it to step in behind her, she's already back to her normal self.

"There's no cameras in here. I've checked," she says.

My eyes drift to the piano. There's Sky's notebook, open to reveal some sheet music. I gasp. "Are you gonna play your song for me?"

"What?" Sky says. "Oh, no, I just thought you could answer a question I've got." She does a "come here" thing with her fingers and leads me to a far corner of the room. Between a bookcase and a TV set is a patch of wall that's... shimmering? And now that I'm closer, it sounds like there's a low hum coming from it, too.

"What is that?" I ask.

"I thought you'd have an idea," she says. "Started going like that while I was playing. Magic tech where I come from isn't anything like here or the moon, so, I was hoping you'd be able to explain what I'm looking at here."

"I don't even know what I'm looking at!"

Sky crosses her arms. "Well then." She walks back over to the piano and picks up a pencil sitting next to her notebook. "Let's find out." She tosses it at the wall. It disappears with the tiniest burst of sparkles.

"Where'd it go?" I ask, my heart going even faster now.

"Huh," is all Sky says back. She's stroking her chin. Then she reaches her hand out.

I grab her arm. "Hold on, I don't want you to get hurt!"

She pats my hand before gently lifting it from her arm. "I'm a vampire, remember? Unless this thing's made outta garlic or something I think I'll be alright." When her hand gets close to the shimmers, a couple glittery crackles make her pull back for a sec. But she reaches out again. At first she tries resting her hand on the wall, but then it pushes right through!

Sky turns to me, as shocked as I am.

She pulls her hand back out, and now it's covered in pale pink and lavender sparkles. "What the hell?"

"It's a portal!" I say.

"To where?"

Our eyes tear from her hand and meet. The same thought makes us both smile in dangerous excitement. I guess neither of us are sleeping tonight.

#vampire #magical girl #magical school #winter #ice skating #moon rabbit #fantasy story #fantasy writing #vampire oc #original characters

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residentanchor · 5 years

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Prince Pride

Summary: An ALiP! Short involving Prince Charging going to the city’s first pride event!

Warning: I get a bit serious at the end. Didn’t mean to, sorry. Also Clyde’s shirt has a curse word on it. I’m going to be spoiling something I’ve hinted at in Probable Theorem in this fic. You have been warned.

The poster advertising the city-wide festival was both a surprise and warm welcome to Logan when he saw it at work. He immediately took a photo and sent it to the group chat he had with his roommates. One he usually kept muted due to silly conversations and spam messages in it (usually Roman and Patton). They all answered with enthusiasm and made plans to go after Virgil stated being too nervous to go alone.

When that warm summer day finally approached, they headed to the city park where it was being held and waited on the side for the small parade to start. Patton found a tie-dye shirt with the pan colors on it randomly in a store. Of course, it was not advertised that way, but he didn’t care at all. Virgil had a shirt on but was hiding it under a light breezy sweater, too shy to have it in the open just yet. Patton had asked Virgil to make Logan a tie that fit the ace colors. Logan absolutely loved it. And Roman? Was fully decked out with a pride flag as a cape tied around his shoulders and his cheek had a rainbow painted on the side, courtesy of Virgil.

The parade was rather short since it was the city’s first year, but the crowd quickly formed around it before pouring into the park where a stage with music was set up, surrounded by stalls of food, supportive local businesses, and random merch. The stalls were lacking, the basic pride flags most common people could quickly find were being sold. Patton made comments about making other flags and setting up a booth next year just so that more people could feel accepted.

They were still walking around when they started hearing shouting. It sounded like a debate and a small crowd was gathering around it.

“He is!”

“Where’s your proof? I don’t want you to be wrong, but all I hear are stories! I want evidence!”

“What evidence are you even looking for?”

“I mean, if he were to show up, that would be pretty good!”

“You know he doesn’t show up in the day time!”

“It’s PRIDE! If Prince Charging really stood by us, he’d be here!”

Their group all turned to Roman who watched on with wide eyes and a bit surprised. “Wait…” He mumbled to himself. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Roman…” Virgil started softly. “What are you planning?”

Roman smiled and turned toward him. “Virgil. I need a quick way home as soon as possible. I think I didn’t dress properly for the occasion!”

Virgil stared at Roman before letting out a deep sigh and shaking his head. “Fine. I know I can’t stop you. Here, let’s get out of here and find a quiet place to ourselves.”

Patton and Logan waved them goodbye as they went their separate ways. However, only ten minutes later, Virgil walked back up to the two and let out a large sigh before ducking his head.

“I told him to not let me regret this and I already regret this.”

“Regret what, Virge?”

“Is that Clyde?” They turned to Logan, who was staring off into the crowd. Following his gaze, they turned and spotted Clyde in the crowd. He didn’t stick out much, though he wasn’t wearing his usual scarf and beanie in the hot weather. His hair was slightly pink at the ends, probably temporary color, and he was wearing a big, baggy tank top that said ‘Imagine what you could learn if you weren’t an asshole’ in rainbow letters on the front with a blue bandanna tied around his neck.

“It is!” Patton cried out happily. “Clyde! Hey, over here!” They watched as their neighbor looked over at them and visibly deflated. He seemed to contemplate ignoring them before begrudgingly walking over. “Hey! I didn’t know you were going to be here!”

“Yeah, well…” He tugged at his bandanna and looked around. “Aunt Les has been talking about this for months and I was curious, so…”

“Well, be that as it may, it is nice to see you here, Clyde.” Logan smiled at the younger man as he looked at Logan in shock. “Even coming to these to simply show support, whether you are a part of the community or not, is a brave act. I’m glad to see you here, regardless of the reasons.”

“Oh. Yeah, it’s whatever.” Clyde smiled softly before looking at the group. “Hey, where’s Roman?”

Virgil jabbed a thumb over his shoulder and Clyde leaned over to see what was going on. “He’s probably just over there. You’ll hear him soon enough.”

Clyde watched the crowd before spotting the familiar white suit he had seen dozens of times before. “Are you kidding me, really?!” Clyde scrunched his nose in disdain and looked up at Virgil. “You really let him out of the house like that?”

Virgil shrugged and didn’t bother turning around. “Hey, if seeing him makes others feel safe knowing he supports them, who am I to stop it?”

Roman was walking around and smiling, ignoring the whispers as he made his way through the sea of people. He knew in his outfit he shouldn’t hang out with the others, but it was a golden opportunity to just enjoy things as they happened and stand up for anyone in the rare chance something happened.

“Prince Charging!” He stopped and turned, seeing a group of people smiling and waving at him. He raised a hand and waved back, watching them all laugh and turn to talk to one another before he turned and kept walking through the crowd.

“No way,” He turned and saw the two people who were arguing before, both staring at him. “No way! No way you’re really here!” The person who was demanding proof that Prince Charging was in support of pride. He watched as they smiled, seemingly happy to be proven wrong. “You’re really here!”

“Well, of course I am!” He placed a hand on his chest and smiled, puffing up proudly. “There is no where else I would rather be!”

“Are you really him?” Someone else questioned. The Prince smiled and nodded, causing them to start jumping with excitement. “Ahh, the Prince is here!”

People started taking out their phones and snapping photos, which he was more than happy to pose for. A crowd quickly formed and Prince was having a hard time keeping up with them all.

It was going great for a while. Of course, someone had to speak up.

“No way. I bet you’re a fake!” He stopped and turned to the person who shouted at him. “I don’t believe you!”

“You don’t believe me? The gayest hero in the city? Truly, I have not done my job well enough if you’re still questioning it!”

“Prove it! Prove it you’re really here!”

With a huff, he looked around and noticed a nearby bench, quickly excusing himself as he made his way to it. Jumping up, he turned to the crowd and threw out his arms. “Ladies, lords and non-binary royalty, it is your prince! Here in support of all of you!”

“Are you the real prince? I bet you’re a fake!”

Roman held out his hand like it was a gun and pointed it to the crowd. “This is as real as you are, I assure you!”

“PROVE IT!”

Without hesitation, Prince Charging held his arm up and aimed straight into the sky. He let loose a bolt of lightning that shot up and flared out, almost like a firework. The crowd gasped and grew silent as he put his hand down. “I am Prince Charging, the real deal!”

“PRINCE, I LOVE YOU!”

“I love you too, random citizen!” He said with a smile.

Clyde scoffed and turned away. “How can you date him? He’s so annoying.”

“Say trans rights!”

He cleared his throat and cupped his mouth before turning to the sky. “Prince Charging says TRANS RIGHTS!”

Clyde smiled a bit and turned away. “Well, maybe not always. I could do without the shouting, though.”

Everyone just started cheering and asking him to say other things, which he happily obliged. No one questioned him, no one was afraid of him, and everyone kept chanting his name.

He couldn’t tell you how he made it onto the stage where they were performing. He couldn’t tell you how he even got there! However, he will remember being handed a mic and being asked to give a speech. Performing was in Roman’s blood but he still got pre-show jitters every time.

But not here. Not today. Definitely not this time.

“You’re not broken.” The crowd grew quiet at the Prince’s soft tone. He hadn’t realized how serious he was going to take it, but as soon as he started, he couldn’t stop. He looked down to the crowd at all the unfamiliar faces. He smirked a bit as he saw his roommates with Clyde, looking up at him from the field.

“You are not broken. This isn’t some sort of test or a race. We all spend time trying to figure it out, afraid of what we will learn and what others will say, but we were made this way. And the way that you are? The way that each and everyone of us is? We were made exactly the way you were supposed to be.” He pulled the mic away a little bit as he stared out at the crowd. “The label can feel nice, knowing can feel like… like you make sense for the first time in your life. It doesn’t work like that for everyone. You don’t have to follow the label exactly. You want to be a dashing prince?” He smiled and posed a bit. “Fine. You also want to wear a dress? Go ahead. This is all…” He moved his hands around a bunch, waving them back and forth. “It’s like a color wheel. There are so many slightly different variants to every color and shade. You don’t have to be exactly on the dot. You don’t have to be the same color as everyone else. If you’re a bit more green or purple, than that’s fine! Because that’s…” He pulled the mic away, feeling his voice start to waver.

“That’s who you are, and you don’t have to prove yourself to anyone. You are exactly who you need to be.”

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devilgirl101 · 5 years

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My Dirty Angel–reader x Yourboyfriend fanfic by devilgirl101

Author:Your boyfriend belong to @invertedmindinc/@yOurb0yfriend Also

Warning:this fanfic contains graphic Themes as suicide,stalking and sexual content noncon/con if you are tiggered by the following or you're underage do not read viewer Discretion is advised!

Chapter 1: my hell is a virtual novel nightmare/follow the light of...the tv?/hhhhuuuuhhh!?

Part:1

Hey i'm (y/n) (y/l/n) and i'm pretty sure i'm in hell well or is it limbo i can's fuckin' tell anymore i slouch at the counter resting my elbow on it as i wait for someone to either order a coffee with a complicated name or complain 'i didn't order this' 'you call this coffee' and i throw a sugar packet at 'em blah blah whatfuckingever and fuck this box stop copying what i'm thinking it dibbled out my exact thought as if to say 'fuck you you can't stop me' i give a heavy sigh of aggravation at my predicament did i fail to mention i'm dead, i'll explain exactly three mouths ago i was in a very bad place in my mind i guess you could say in life i was 'rather' depressed , disconnected , alone i felt as though i had no reason to live i was sure no one would miss me i know my brother wouldn't, my body was like it was on autopilot when i reach for my sleeping pills from the bathroom cabinet, unfortunately i wouldn't have the chance to off myself cause someone ultimately beat me to it, the only warning i got was a masked face in the mirror, it happened so fast i didn't even feel a thing, i may have been a 'tiny' bit distracted

when i awoke i was in a room i didn't recognize i gasped and scanned the bedroom in alarm, the wallpaper was white littered with little pink hearts, the closet had double doors that were a dark wood color, a midsized tv , a desk with a laptop that was also covered in hearts that definitely wasn't mine and the bed i was laying in wasn't familiar either it was purple with light purple to match the blanket i was wrapped in was a hot pink with dare i say it even more hearts i didn't have time to ponder where hell i was for the bedroom door swung open, revealing a woman i definitely definitely didn't recognize she had short dark hair a heart shaped face brown eyes a turned up nose plump lips and her body had a curvy shape to it and wearing some kind of waitress uniform that was red with white accents on the edges she had a sweet friendly smile on her face "good morning sleepy head "

"w-who are you!?"

she cast me an astonished look "are you kidding me roomie, it's me sally your roommate." putting her hands on her hips "are you feeling okay?" she asked her eyebrow rised "i-i'm not sure" i shakely answered then i noticed the oddist thing a large transparent rectanglar floating box that spelled out exactly what i said "hey what's this thing?" pointing at it as it copied me again "uh what thing?"

i pointed at it again "That thing" she look at me like i was losing my marbles i was starting to think i was , "i don't see anything, are you feeling okay?" she sounded concerned, i scratched my head unsure, what the hell was going on she took my hand pulled me to my feet

"com'on i made breakfest, you'll feel better after you eat something" as she guided me to what looked to be a living room where there was a couch a tv and a round dining table that a steaming pile of pancakes still hot the sight made my stomach growled "your welcome" she said condescendingly as she sat down fixing herself a plate i sat and proceeded to do the same may as well eat something, after the 4th or 6th pancake "i gotta get to work, you probably should too" checking her watch "huh work?" i blinked in confusion "uh yeah ? The coffee shop remember." looking very credulous at me i can only imagine how dumbfoundead my face was

"what's with you today and do not tell me you don't remember the way there either." she crossed her arms "no?" drewing invisible circles on the table with my finger "but just for fun where would i find it ?" her palm met her forehead and groaned and irritatingly explaned to me the location of said coffee shop and other places i asked as annoyed as she was explaining i was just as annoyed for asking her but each place she told me didn't sound familiar, the coffee shop was under the name 'woke up cafe'

"You all that?" she asked "i think so" pileing the new info in my head "good if you do get lost for 'fun' check your phone on map app" my phone ? I start searching my pockets for it "*sigh* it's on your nightstand" rolling her eyes "oh heh heh" scratching my head " sigh i gotta go now or i'll be late, your keys are in the bowel and remember to lock the door"

'blem' she was gone leaveing me with questions then answers, well i may as well go to this 'coffee shop' maybe i'll find someone i know there, maybe get some answers to why i'm living with this 'sally' and how am i working at this 'woke up cafe' cause i don't recall, am i suffering from amnesia is that why?

I only hoped someone anyone could tell me what's going on "sigh" oh whatever i went to retrieve 'my phone' from the nightstand the seemed to be free of any hearts till i saw a small baby one in the corner of the wood, the phone case was a light pink with black dots, well at least they're not hearts, maybe i got into one of my drunk stupors that thought 'hearts' that would explain the interior design

i shook my head questions for later i guess, sliding the phone in my pocket i felt around the other pocket for my thermos and took a sip i put it back walk back to the front door, now where did she say the keys were, oh right a bowl there near the door was a stand with a glass blue bowl it was seethough in middle laid a small set of keys after picking them up i noticed a large tag with my name and there were three keys in total the one that looked like a house key had a pink heart with the word 'home' etched in the metal

oh goody another heart i sighed again and slipped out the door

however i would not be prepared for what i would encountered outside.

The first thing i noticed as i grabbed the railing was the sky it looked off like it didn't even look like sky it was like a painter's impression of sky like a oilpainting i shook my head , did i hit my head or something, then i made the mistake of looking down, and was suddenly aware of how high i was and how low the ground looked below, how fuckin' high in the air am i ?! i turned to the door i came out of '3' followed by a dark smudge i placed my hand on the three lonely and filthy just like me ,i looked back to the ground below, maybe this just the third i hoped, i grimaced and slowly and carefully climbed down the stairs and counted from point A to point B, i took some more calming breaths and counted seven floors, oh christ on a stick why, why the 7th floors, i hate heights, am i being punished ? my feet finally met the sweet ground i gave a great sigh of relief

"ok no more fuckin' around" i pulled out 'my phone' for the directions sally told me about, hey has the grass alaways been this bright green? In fact everything else looked off as well, the colors were too vibrant, the sidwalk too perfect, the scenery too nice it was down right unnatural, maybe i'll see my doctor after this cause i think i'm loseing it more then usual as i looked at the box that won't dissipate i thought, i took a fast walking pace the walk on the sidewalk was too smooth as i took my steps, the sidewalk i remembered was jagged cracked and uneven this isn't righ- then i stumbled on one part of the concrete that wasn't quite leveled, okay that's a little better, i steadied myself, something caught my eye someone slumped against a building their back flushed the concrete wall his head and face were obscured by a dark hoodie head down giveing the impression off the air of depression his legs were sprawled out in front of him, is he alright i shook my head doesn't matter not my problem as i tried to continue walking my guilt came to bite me

(you're just gonna leave just like that he could be dying) i don't even know him or her, i was still unsure of their gender (that Should't matter ya know why don't you run into incoming traffic ya piece of shi-) i turned back not sure what i could do but i was gonna try anyway, i crouched down in front of him "hey are you alright?" his head was bobbing so i wasn't sure heard me i was about to ask again till came very shaky "i-i'm.....f-f-fine" he stuttered out his voice was so scratchy and hoarse like he hadn't spoken in years, i pulled out my thermos and held it out in front of him

"here drink this, don't worry it's just water" i waited for him to take it he shook his head "n-n-no t-thank y-y-you i-i'm f-f-fin-"

"you're not fine you sound like you were eating chalk just drink it you'll feel better, trust me" i wagged the container makeing the liquid slosh his head finally turned up at me i saw one dark blue eye widen at me "it's....you.." and something else i could't quite hear

"hmmm?" makeina a confused sound was about to ask what he said but then he took the water and chugs down every last drop wow shit he must've been more thirstier then i thought i proceeded to stand

" listen sorry to cut this short but i gotta get going"

i started turn "Wait!" he grabbed my wrist stopping me in my tracks "yes? What is it?" riseing my eyebrow at him

"w-what about y-y-your thing?" holding up the thermos and keeping his head down avoiding my gaze

"nah you keep it i got other ones" at least i hoped i did, and he looked like he needed it more then me

"y-you s-sure?"

"yeah" i tried walking away but i was being hindered

"could you um..let go now Please." he looked at his hand still clasped around my wrist "oh S—shit s-sorry" finally letting go i sighed and gave him a polite smile and i wave him goodbye

i made my way to a crosswalk where there a bus stop and i heard the wonderful sound of civilization i saw a man his back turned to me and he had a phone to his ear i absentmindedly bumped into him not paying attention he snapped around almost violently "WATCH WHERE You're going" he screeched "sorry i mean to-" i gasped and clasped my hands over my mouth at what i saw the man had no eyes, no nose, and no mouth to speak of, he didn't have a face in fact none of the people in the crowed walking ,talking and sitting at the bus stop also were faceless i started to hyperventilate "hey are you alright?" and in my panic i ran not sure where to i was so frighten that my barin just turned off i think one of 'em tried to touch my shoulder but i flinched away, oh god oh fuck i've lost it for real this time, what the hell is- "HEY LOOK OUT !!!" one of them screamed at me as i saw and heard a large bus it's lights flashing, oh god this is it, i shut my eyes and held my hands up anticipating the blow, but after a couple of minutes it never came i could't even hear the bus anymore actually i could't hear anything, not the bus,not the even the faceless people, just dead silence and my heavry breathing, i was still afraid so i slowly opened my eyes one at a time "what the hell?!" it was completely dark the bus, the street , the scenery , and the people were gone it was like somebody took all them away and left nothing but dark nothingness oh god was i haveing a episode?

"Hello is anyone there please...answer me" i called out but i was met with only more unsettling silence till i heard a very soft "Over here" I almost missed it sounded just like a child

i ran towards the direction it came from then i saw a soft glowing light that slowly got brighter the closter i got to it, was is that? When i got toe to toe to it, it took the shape of a small little girl she glowed as bright as a nightlight her eyes glowed green while the rest of her glowed a light yellow

"w-who are you?" i asked shakingly she made a sad sound and softly and sadly "you poor soul, you are trapped in a cage that's not your making, a prisoner of fate"

"what?" my voice came ghostly as she continued

"they must've caught you when you were just drifting, This truly is a unjust retribution that has been placed on your shoulders, your chances are almost none, but if i am able to reach you, there may be a possibility open to you"

yep it's official it was a long time coming but i've finally lost it

"You seem to not understand what i'm saying do you, please look upon this" with a wave of her hand a great big tv emerged from the ground

i stared at the screen not sure why all i could see was static at first but the picture slowly become clearer and clearer till i finally saw myself in my bathroom reaching inside the cabinet, oh yeah i remembered i was going to kill myself wasn't i? I watch myself take the bottle out and stared at it then the screen charged to two masked men rummaging though my stuff, are you kidding me i was being robbed "psst i think i hear someone's in there" one whispered pointing at the bathroom door, the other nodded "i got this" holding a baseball bat then quietly open the and to my horror i watched helplessly as the bat came domn on my head and (y/n) on the screen fall to the tiled floor with a thud and blood poured out of my head like a fountain

"dude i didn't tell you to kill 'em" masked man A yelled "aw shit man, let's get outta here" the screen turned back to static

all the air i had left me and my knees hit the dark ground losing the strength to stand, "i'm...am i..." as i found i had difficuly speaking as though my tongue was made of clay

"'dead' yes, i'm sorry (y/n)"

great killed in a 'breaking and entering' gone wrong and not only that on the day i planed to kill myself how ironic i can hear my mother's disappointment from here i bet my brother's just haveing a ball with this

the worst part is i had a suicide note prepared sigh what a waste of time

"am i ... is this hell?" looking back at her

"no purgatory"

"this is purgatory" i gestured around the emptiness

"no, this place is a in between of existiong and nothingness almost a dream space if you will i pulled you in so we could talk" said matter a factly

"i see...but the place i was before you pulled me in, that was purgatory?" i slowly stood up

"yes and no"

"huh?"

"There isn't just one purgatory there are infinite think of them as levels each one significantly different then the last each housing millions of souls you had the bad fortune by them"

souls? Then i remembered the faceless people and sally why did she have her's and they didn't "those people ..... is that gonna happen to me?!" oh god i felt another panic attack coming on

"no, Souls that lose their conviction their individuality become faceless they're lost themselves , so please listen to me" she took my hands into her's "they love playing sick twisted mind games they will use your pain against you so no matter how painful no matter how tragic don't forget yourself, in your pain holds your truth, it is what will keep you so no matter what don't look away,"

my mind was in a shamble of questions " who's 'they'?" i demanded

before she could answer me a ominous sound filled the nothingness like a siren then the ground shook violently like a earthquake then the whole area glowed a horrifying red

"oh no they found me!" she shook her head in dismay

"who's they, and what's happening?!" i screamed trying to keep myself steady

"there's no time, you must find the angel of death that they have enthralled in their game of torture, he is the key, you'll know him by this symbol" oh good more convoluted bullshit she waved her again and in the middle of the static of the screen appeared a misshapened heart that had a jagged line in the middle on one side black the other white and in red was the word 'yours' right in the middle as it flickered in and out on the tv

"key? key to what goddamnit, how am i supposed to find him with that !?" as i shook her but she was like a mannequin her eyes were like static they were there one sec and gone the next

"S---so-rry -----ere's n--- -ime you mu-t fin-d him" her voice came in and out like a out of tuned radio

Side note: sorry have break it into two parts

Yourboyfriend belongs to @invertedmindinc cheack her other @y0urb0yfriend

#reader x yourboyfriend #future lemons #afterlife au #reader is a grouch #yourboyfriend is a creepy sweetheart #part 1 #fanfic #invertedmindinc #y0urb0yfriend

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obsidianarchives · 5 years

Text

Beneath the Surface - Part 2

An Unexpected Correspondence

“Hermione!”

The door to the dormitory slammed open, and Hermione looked up from her dress robes to see Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown.

“How could you not tell us you were going to Slughorn’s party with Cormac McLaggen?” Parvati exclaimed.

“Oh, er,” Hermione eyed them warily. She had generally been friendly with Parvati and Lavender, but they had been two of the few who had laughed at Ron’s mocking in class earlier. They seemed to be remorseful now, or at least had resolved to move on from it.

Lavender strode up to her and pulled the robes from Hermione’s hands, inspecting them. They were blush pink with a faint gold shimmer. “Have you got any accessories for this?”

“Yeah, I — what are you doing?” Hermione asked, noticing Parvati rooting through her own trunk.

“We’re going to help you get ready,” she answered as she straightened up, holding a bright purple heavy-looking box covered with metallic stickers.

“You really don’t have to—”

“Of course we do!” Lavender exclaimed, “We’re your roommates. Plus we didn’t get invites so we have nothing better to do.”

Parvati opened her box, revealing its contents: palettes of eye shadows and tubes of eyeliner and mascara. “I also have hair accessories. Lav, don’t you have a choker that would go with the gold of her robes?” she asked as she sat Hermione down at the foot of her bed.

“On it,” Lavender called, already searching through her own things.

Hermione felt a little surprised by their sudden excitement but allowed herself to relax as they helped her get ready. She rarely hung out with girls — occasionally the three of them would have slumber parties, but they hadn’t done that since fourth year. Other than sharing a room with Ginny when she stayed at the Burrow, her friend interactions had almost exclusively been with Harry and Ron. This was nice, getting to hang out with people without the added pressure of dealing with Ron’s insecurities or Harry’s bleak future.

Parvati and Lavender did an amazing job. Parvati bemoaned not having any makeup for full coverage — not even the wizarding world had found it necessary to create foundations that matched darker skin tones — but she added gold wingtips to Hermione’s eyelids that Lavender declared “inspired.”

Lavender undid the two plaits Hermione had been wearing all day and pulled her thick hair up into a pineapple, using her wand to make some of her curls more defined, a trick she said her aunt had taught her over the summer. She and Parvati carefully placed Parvati’s alternating burgundy and gold butterfly clips in a halo around her hair, the clips flapping their wings leisurely.

Hermione thanked them both profusely, though she wondered to herself whether they should have wasted so much effort on Cormac, who Hermione was still wary of.

He was waiting for her in the common room, dressed in alarmingly bright dress robes of royal blue. His hair was ruffled carefully, and he grinned when he saw her.

“Looking good Granger!” he said, slinging an arm over her shoulder and steering her out into the halls.

Once the portrait of the Fat Lady swung shut behind them, she slid out from under his arm, careful not to mess up her hair. “Er, you look nice,” she offered as they continued down the hall.

Cormac smiled again, his eyes drifting across her body. She crossed her arms. “Thanks,” he said, “I just threw it on after the two-on-two Quidditch match my buddies and I played after dinner.”

“Oh?” Hermione raised her eyebrows at him, thinking of all the time Parvati had spent inspecting her eyelids to make sure they were symmetrical.

“Yeah, it was epic,” he said, “You know I tried out for Keeper but I’m a fairly good Beater as well. We only had one Bludger but…”

Hermione listened to Cormac’s play-by-play as attentively as she could, but found herself zoning out more than a couple of times. By the time they had turned into the corridor holding Slughorn’s office, she realized he was on a completely different story than the one he had started out with.

Thankfully, they were approaching the office now. Cormac still prattled along as they stepped through the door, but Hermione’s attention was caught by the wonderful way Slughorn had decorated the room.

It somehow seemed larger than usual, the hangings draped to look like they were inside a large tent, a towering tree sprung up where the table usually sat for their dinners. There were far more people here than Hermione had expected, and she realized that while not a lot of the student body was invited, Slughorn was taking this moment to bask in the number of connections he had. Music floated through the room as house-elves carried trays of food through the crowd. Hermione forced herself not to turn and leave right then at the sight of them, and looked around instead for Harry.

She figured he ought to be here by now with Luna, but what she thought might be the glint of his glasses turned out to be that of a gold bracelet on Melinda Bobbin’s wrist, and there were quite a few people in here with dark hair.

Her eyes fell on Blaise Zabini. He was standing off to the right with Daphne Greengrass and a short stocky man in a stetson. His dress robes were a deep burgundy with gold thread embroidered along his collar and the ends of his sweeping sleeves. His smooth skin seemed to shine under the lights. His dark eyes met hers and widened for a moment before he nodded at her in greeting.

“Want to get some drinks?” Cormac’s voice was too loud in her ear.

Hermione tore her gaze away from Zabini and nodded, “Sure.”

They wound their way through the crowd towards the bar when Cormac was hailed loudly by a large man with an impressive golden mustache. The man, it turned out, was Cormac’s uncle Tiberius.

“Good to see you my boy!” Tiberius cried boisterously.

“I didn’t realize you were coming,” Cormac said, grinning widely. Hermione could see the familial resemblance — both were quite large with blue eyes, and seemed to carry themselves with the sort of confidence that could only be found in the privileged mediocre.

“Yes, I told your father to keep it all hush hush, thought I would surprise you,” Tiberius said, his eyes falling on Hermione, “But it seems you’re the one with the surprises Cormac!”

“This is Hermione,” Cormac said, sliding his hand around her waist unexpectedly, causing her to stumble into him. This close, she could smell the faint scent of grass and sweat that clung to him. She tried to maintain her composure, leaning away as she smiled politely at Cormac’s uncle.

“Charmed,” Tiberius said, taking Hermione’s hand and kissing it, “I’m glad to see Cormac has been doing well in his extracurricular activities.”

Hermione coughed in surprise at the man’s brazen sleaziness. Cormac moved his hand to pat her back as he grinned at Tiberius, which allowed her to shift away from him. Feeling thoroughly uncomfortable, she resumed her search for Harry, resolving to ditch Cormac at the first sight of her friend.

Thankfully, Tiberius soon bid them farewell as Professor Slughorn called to him, a swell of laughter passing through the room. Cormac and Hermione finally made it to the bar, where Cormac ordered a firewhisky for himself and a butterbeer for her. As she took a sip, she wondered if she should have chosen firewhisky as well — she was of age and seemed to be full of nerves. Perhaps it would have soothed them.

Hermione spotted Harry with Luna across the room, talking to Slughorn, a small man in glasses, and a vampire. She followed Cormac absently, trying to figure out a way to get over to them.

“Well would you look at that?” Cormac said.

Hermione glanced at him, still distracted, “Hmm?”

Cormac pointed up, a sly smile on his face. Hermione was suddenly filled with dread at the sight of the cluster of green leaves floating just above them. She took a step back.

“Ah, come on,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder, “It’s Christmas.”

His hand slipped up her neck, fingers burrowing into her hair. As he leaned in, Hermione could smell the firewhisky on his breath, hot and sharp. Just before his lips touched hers, she seemed to jolt back into herself. She ducked down and out of his arms, feeling his fingers tug at the strands of her hair as she unloosed herself. Before he could say anything, she ducked through two of the Weird Sisters, heart racing.

“Hermione! Hermione!”

She was relieved to see Harry approach, pulling Luna after him. “Harry! There you are, thank goodness! Hi, Luna!”

“What’s happened to you?” Harry asked, his eyes trailing up to her hair, which she could feel was coming undone.

“Oh, I’ve just escaped — I mean, I’ve just left Cormac,” she said. She tried to smooth up the back of her hair, but could tell it was a lost cause. At the confused look on Harry’s face, she added, “Under the mistletoe.”

“Serves you right for coming with him,” he told her. She felt a twinge of irritation. How did her coming here with Cormac mean she deserved to be accosted?

“It’s not like I wanted to,” she hissed, “He cornered me. Let’s go this way, we’ll be able to see him coming, he’s so tall.” She lead them to the other side of the room, grabbing a goblet of mead as she went and draining the cup in one. Too late, she realized she had lead them right to Professor Trelawney, who was standing alone.

“Hello,” said Luna politely.

Trelawney greeted Luna back, and as they started their conversation, Harry turned back to Hermione, concern on his face.

“I didn’t ask before. Are you planning to tell Ron that you interfered at Keeper tryouts?”

Hermione glared at him, “Of course not! I’ve got no plans to tell Ron anything about what might, or might not, have happened at Keeper tryouts.”

“Good,” said Harry, “Because he’ll just fall apart again, and we’ll lose the next match—”

Her panicked nerves transformed at his words, a burning anger rising in her. “Quidditch! Is that all boys care about? Cormac hasn’t asked me one single questions about myself, no, I’ve just been treated to ‘A Hundred Great Saves Made by Cormac McLaggen’ nonstop ever since—” she broke off, noticing him coming their way, “Oh no, here he comes!”

She hurried off without another word, ducking around the large Christmas tree. One of the leaves got tangled in her hair and she stopped to unwind it, before turning back to continue her course.

She glanced behind her to make sure Cormac hadn’t seen her, and turned around too late, colliding into Zabini.

“Sorry,” she said quickly, grabbing his arms to keep herself upright. His warm scent washed over her, cinnamon and cloves mingling with the smell of pine from the tree beside them.

Zabini’s hands gripped her elbows a moment and then let go, his eyebrows raised at the sight of her. His gaze drifted up to her hair.

“You look like you’ve just wrestled a troll.”

She flushed, reaching up self-consciously to touch the back of her hair again before stopping herself. “I may as well have,” she breathed, glancing behind her again. Cormac had just made it to Harry, who was shrugging. Cormac frowned at Harry’s response and looked up, eyes tracking the room. Hermione ducked past Zabini and behind the tree, counting on the both of them to hide her.

Zabini watched her with a frown, “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” she hissed, peeking out a bit to see if Cormac was on the move, “I’m hiding from the troll.”

Zabini followed her gaze for a moment, his frown deepening. “You’re not having a great night, are you Granger?”

Hermione was barely listening as she searched the room for another place to hide. There was a small gap between Gwenog Jones and a man almost as large as Hagrid. If she timed it right, she could slip between them and end up on the other side of the room without Cormac being any the wiser.

Zabini was looking at her again, scrutinizing her face. “Do you want to get out of here?”

His suggestion startled her out of her plotting. She gaped up at him. Why would Blaise Zabini want to go anywhere with her? His hand was suddenly gripping her elbow again, eyes hardening as it drifted past the tree. She followed his gaze to see Cormac walking in their direction.

“Yes, let’s go,” she said quickly.

Luckily, this side of the tree was closest to the exit. Zabini pulled her through the clusters of people. He dropped her arm just as Filch appeared in the doorway, pulling Draco Malfoy inside by the ear, looking triumphant. He gestured for Hermione to follow him before ducking around Filch and sliding out of the room.

The hall outside was silent, the sounds of the party contained within the confines of Slughorn’s office. Hermione took a deep breath, feeling lighter.

Zabini continued down the hall and she hurried after him, wondering where they were going. The silence, relieving at first, quickly turned awkward. A thousand questions rose in Hermione’s head, but only one left her mouth.

“What are you doing?”

Zabini looked down at her with a smirk before turning back to face forward, “Walking.”

Hermione felt a surge of irritation, “Obviously,” she said, “But why are you helping me? What about your date?”

He shrugged, “She’ll be fine.”

Hermione frowned, “That’s not very considerate, you know. Does she at least know you’ve left?”

“You’re one to talk, aren’t we here so you could ditch McLaggen?”

“McLaggen is an aggressive pig,” Hermione snapped.

“You’re the one who chose to take him as your date.”

Hermione felt angry at his words. Harry’s insistence that she was somehow getting her comeuppance rose back up in her memory. She stopped walking. “Just because I agreed to go with him to the party doesn’t mean I asked to be manhandled under a floating bush!”

Zabini halted a few steps ahead of her, looking back, his eyes wide in shock, “No — I didn’t mean...I know the way he treated you isn’t your fault. I’m sorry it came off that way.”

Hermione eyed him warily, her frustration simmering at the genuine look of remorse on his face. She started walking again.

“I just assumed you’d go with Potter,” Zabini continued, when it was clear to him that she wouldn’t bite his head off.

“Yeah, well I was originally going to go with Ron, but that didn’t work out.”

“You almost brought Weasley?” she wasn’t looking at him, but she could hear the derision in his voice.

“Only as friends,” she didn’t know why she felt the need to clarify, but she did anyway. They climbed the stairs up toward Gryffindor Tower, “I thought it might be fun, before…”

“Before he started acting like an arse, you mean,” Zabini said.

She shrugged, “Sure.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, and when she looked up at him, she saw that he looked thoughtful.

“I’d always wondered why you hung around the two of them,” he said finally, “Doesn’t seem all that equal of a relationship.”

“I’m sure you would know, seeing as you’re by yourself most of the time,” Hermione retorted, though she kept her voice light to let him know she wasn’t upset by his estimation.

“You mean like you’ve been most of the year?”

That brought her up short. Zabini was watching her closely — she could feel her skin warm the longer he held her under his gaze. But he wasn’t wrong. She had been spending a lot of time on her own recently, ever since Harry had gotten that stupid book.

“I suppose so.”

The Fat Lady was up ahead, pretending to be asleep.

“It’s not so bad,” Zabini said gently, “Sometimes you can only be your true self on your own.”

Hermione slowed down to a halt, narrowing her eyes at him. Is that why he kept to himself? Was who he was with other people not who he truly was?

“You should be able to find people who allow you to be yourself though. That’s what friendship is,” she said. Even when Harry and Ron frustrated her to no end, that was the one thing she knew was always true about them.

Zabini shrugged, “Perhaps you’re right.”

She watched him cautiously, the way his dark eyes drifted along the walls, the torch light reflecting off of his cheekbones. He slid his hands into the pockets of his robes.

“You know you still haven’t explained why you helped me,” she said.

Zabini’s eyes fell back to hers, “Dunno,” he said quietly. It felt almost as if he were talking to himself, but his eyes seemed to burn into her, more intense than any gaze she’d felt. Her heart thudded loudly in her chest. He rocked forward on his toes, his scent wafting over her a moment before he thought better of it, settling back down on his heels. He took a step back, “‘Night, Granger.”

Hermione watched in stunned silence as he turned and disappeared around the corner. She exhaled, confused by the way her stomach flipped as she watched him go.

…

Hermione woke early the next morning to see Harry and Ginny off as they left for break. She and Lavender walked down to the common room together, Hermione yawning as they entered to find Harry, Ron, and Ginny waiting near the portrait hole.

As Lavender careened into Ron’s arms and their mouths fused together, Hermione passed Harry and Ginny their Christmas presents.

“Thanks,” Harry said sleepily, passing her a package of her own, “Listen, I missed you at the end of the party—”

“I left early,” Hermione said, heat creeping up on her cheeks. She knew she couldn’t bring up her late night walk with Zabini. She wasn’t even sure how she felt about it, and she knew for a fact how Harry would react to her spending any amount of time with a Slytherin outside of class.

“I figured,” Harry said, pointedly ignoring the slurping sounds coming from just a few feet over.

Ginny rolled her eyes and sighed at her brother’s antics. “We’ve got to go,” she said loudly, pulling Hermione into a quick hug, “McGonagall said not to be late.”

“I’ve got something to tell you,” Harry said in a low voice as Ron and Lavender broke apart and Ginny made to exit the common room, “After break. It’s important.” He gave her a significant look, letting her know it wasn’t something he could write to her about; that it would be too dangerous.

“Alright,” she said, pulling him into a tight hug, “Have a good Christmas!”

“You too,” Harry grinned.

Ron glanced at her awkwardly, but Hermione turned away, following Lavender back up to their room. She wasn’t going to deal with his attitude just before the holidays.

Parvati was awake by the time she and Lavender got back to their dormitory. “You two up for breakfast?” she asked through a yawn.

“Sure,” Hermione said, surprised at being included. “I left your clips on your table, Parvati, I didn’t know where to put them. Thanks again for letting me borrow them.”

“No problem,” Parvati said with a smile.

“You have to tell us all about the party,” Lavender insisted, “But after I brush my teeth.”

Hermione grimaced and pulled out her clothes for the train ride home, a pair of jeans, a thick navy and red jumper knitted for her by Mrs. Weasley, and black boots. She twisted her hair down in the front, pulling it all back into a low but wild puff.

Soon, the three of them were in the Great Hall, eating their last meal before they would be on the train for hours.

“So what happened?” Lavender asked, scooping eggs onto her plate, “I want all the details.”

“Well, Slughorn invited a lot of his former pupils,” she started slowly. There wasn’t much to say, she had left the party before she had gotten the chance to properly network. Her eyes wandered from her plate across the hall to the Slytherin table.

Zabini was there, sitting off on his own, a small book held open in one hand. As she noticed him, his eyes seemed to drift up from the pages as if called, to meet hers. Hermione blushed and looked back to her food.

“Who cares?” Parvati exclaimed, “What about McLaggen?”

“Oh,” Hermione stammered, her mind elsewhere, on the quiet moment just before Zabini had left her with the Fat Lady, on his thoughtful but burning gaze. “I don’t think we’ll be seeing much of each other…”

She explained what had happened, and felt satisfaction at the looks of horror and disgust on Lavender and Parvati’s faces.

“Gross,” Parvati said, wrinkling her nose.

“I can’t believe his uncle said that,” Lavender chimed in.

“Yes, well, I ended up leaving early,” Hermione said, “I’m sorry all your hard work had to go to waste.”

“Not at all!” Parvati exclaimed, “It was fun.”

“Plus, you had to have turned heads when you arrived,” Lavender grinned, “You looked wicked.”

Hermione flushed again, and pursed her lips.

She rode on the Hogwarts Express with them, the two of them mostly content to chatter away about the latest issue of Witch Weekly and their last Divination class. It was a reminder to Hermione why she didn’t hang out with them regularly; they didn’t share many of the same interests. Still, it was refreshing to be around regular girls, to talk about normal things even as danger loomed. She knew Lavender and Parvati weren’t unaware — Parvati’s parents had been threatening all term to pull her and her sister out of the school — but they seemed to find comfort in the latest hair color developed by Fancy Follicles the way Hermione would a book. She tried to stay engaged as much as she could, and soon their conversation turned to Ron.

“I don’t know,” Lavender sighed, unwrapping a pumpkin pasty, “He just doesn’t seem to be all that present, you know? I feel like I don’t really know how he feels about me.”

Parvati frowned, “Don’t you ever talk to him?”

Lavender shrugged, “Not really. It’s mostly snogging,” suddenly she turned to Hermione, “What do you think?”

Hermione grimaced. Lavender didn’t want to know what she actually thought — that Ron was with Lavender because he liked to feel wanted, to be seen kissing a girl. Ron rarely did things without the promise of people noticing, despite that also making him nervous at the possibility of the attention turning negative. Instead, she gave her another answer, “I don’t even know why you like Ron, to be honest.”

Lavender looked shocked, “But he’s your friend!”

“Yes,” Hermione agreed. That was precisely why she felt that way. She had been the brunt of his bad behavior enough times to know she would never want to deal with it in any romantic situation.

“I was always surprised you never had feelings for him,” Lavender said, “Or Harry.”

Hermione shrugged. There had been a brief moment in fourth year when she thought she could maybe have feelings for Ron, but the Yule Ball had woken her up.

As if reading her mind, Parvati said, “I get it. Padma and I went to the Yule Ball with them. No thanks.”

Lavender leaned back with a huff, “Well hopefully when we get back, we’ll figure out how to be on the same page.”

Hermione felt a surge of pity. It seemed Lavender truly liked Ron. “Perhaps,” she said, hoping she sounded optimistic.

…

The Hogwarts Express pulled into King’s Cross Station that evening, and Hermione bade farewell to Parvati and Lavender, whose parents met them on the platform. On her way to the platform barrier, she saw Zabini sitting on a bench alone, frowning at his book. His long legs were crossed in front of him so that other students had to make an arc around him to get by. He brought his free hand to his mouth, wetting the tips of his fingers before turning the page.

Hermione felt a sudden urge to go to him, to wish him a Happy Christmas, but in that moment a group of fifth year Ravenclaws pushed their way past her, startling her back to reality. She took a deep breath and followed them through the barrier, away from the boy who seemed to keep creeping into her mind, arriving back in the Muggle world between platforms 9 and 10.

She spotted her father down the way a bit, in a flat cap and bomber jacket, waving at her. She smiled at him, feeling a little awkward as she approached.

“Hi Dad,” she said as he pulled her into a hug.

“It’s been a long time, love,” he said, “School alright?”

Hermione nodded vaguely, grabbing Crookshanks’ carrier out of the cart as her father pulled out her luggage. “It’s been okay.”

She followed her father out of the station towards the car, unsure of what to say. She hadn’t seen her parents since the first week of the summer, when she had stopped at home briefly before going off to the Burrow for the rest of break. And before that...she couldn’t remember. She did know that this was her first Christmas home since her first year at Hogwarts, five years ago.

“Your mum’s finishing up at the office,” he told her as they made it to the car. He hoisted her luggage into the trunk as she slid into the passenger’s seat. “Should be home once we get there.”

They drove through London with few words, the silence punctuated by the sports talk show her father loved to listen to. Whenever the space between their conversation got too long, Hermione tried to think of something to ask — about the car, her dad’s Aunt Trina over in Bristol, on their work. Each answer was more mundane than the previous, and Hermione began to feel guilty. She had been in boarding school all this time, but should she feel quite this separate from her family?

Her mum was home as her father said, and looked happy to see her, if not a little tired from a long day’s work.

“The Carter twins were in again,” she sighed as she sat at the kitchen table, “I keep telling their mum she doesn’t have to bring them in for every little fall.”

“Didn’t Ashley cut her mouth falling off a swing?” her dad asked.

“Yes, but it was nothing a little ice couldn’t fix,” her mum said, sounding exasperated.

Hermione excused herself quietly from the room and pulled her things upstairs. She looked around her room, at how ordinary it was, the light pink bedspread she’d picked out when she was ten, and the small desk pushed into the corner, a lamp on the corner. She went to her window and pulled back the curtains, looking out on the empty street. Everything was still and peaceful — it felt wrong.

Hermione turned away from the window and rooted through her bag for her wand. She could hear her mother in her parents’ bedroom, presumably changing out of her work clothes. The football match blared from the sitting room, and Hermione heard her father shouting at the television.

She slipped outside, looking up at her house, the white paneling and square windows. The gray sky above her felt dark and foreboding, and a light mist crept around the corners. Hermione took a deep breath and raised her wand, reciting the protection spells she had taught herself in her spare time at school. She said them out loud, not trusting her skill in nonverbal spells enough for something so important.

Rain began to fall as she finished, the first few drops hitting her forehead and hands as the last spell left her mouth, casting a brief golden glow around the house. She hurried back inside, hoping it would be enough.

…

Christmas break at the Grangers tended to be a quiet affair. Hermione’s parents were in and out of the office in the days leading up to the actual holiday, taking appointments until the very last minute. Hermione didn’t mind it, she had been used to the busy schedules of her parents, and actually enjoyed the time on her own when she wasn’t feeling the guilt of being gone for so long, of not being able to tell them everything about her world.

She wasn’t sure if it helped or made her feel worse that she wasn’t getting as much information from the wizarding world as she was used to. It was clear the Daily Prophet was suppressing information, perhaps to increase morale, but Hermione wanted to be informed not coddled. She thought about Harry and Ron at the Burrow. While it wasn’t the headquarters for the Order, she knew that enough members were in and out of the house that there was so much they might be learning just by virtue of being there.

Hermione was starting to feel lonely. She had gotten used to the chaotic nature of the Burrow, the cramped but cheerful air about the house. She missed waking up to the smell of Mrs. Weasley’s cooking, Fred and George’s jokes, even attempting to play Quidditch in the apple orchard. She fought the urge to write Harry and beg him to tell her whatever information he had for her, which she was sure he’d already recited to Ron in the safety of his bedroom, just below the family ghoul. As she stared up at her ceiling, the flower decal peeling after holding up for nearly a decade, she wondered why she hadn’t come up with some kind of code for them to communicate by.

The tapping on her window startled her out of her funk, excitement rising at the thought of seeing Hedwig, of hearing some news from the world she now called home.

She pushed herself off of her bed and pulled back her curtains. It wasn’t Hedwig on her sill. It wasn’t even Pigwidgeon, though she hadn’t expected him.

Instead, a large Great Horned Owl sat watching her almost haughtily, it’s plumage expertly groomed. A scroll was attached to it’s leg, tied with a black ribbon. Confused, she pushed her window open, allowing it to enter and perch on the end of her desk.

The owl stood almost motionless as it allowed her to remove the scroll. She slid the ribbon off and unfurled it, revealing an unfamiliar scrawl in shining green ink. Hermione scanned the letter quickly, her stomach flipping at the signature at the bottom.

Blaise Zabini.

She flipped the parchment over, as if expecting to find more, some kind of assurance that this was all a joke, or that she was dreaming. She looked back up at the owl, now watching her with an air of impatience. It looked how she would imagine an owl owned by Zabini would look, stiff and proud.

She turned away from it then and sat on the edge of her bed, smoothing out the letter and reading it from the top, her heart racing.

Granger,

This is probably as strange as it is unexpected. I was reading a book that made me think of you and your maddening self-righteousness, and then suddenly I was pulling out a parchment and quill.

I don’t know that I’ve ever written to anyone outside of school — there’s never been a point — but my mother is off with her new boyfriend and there isn’t much to do at home. Maybe I’m just bored. Anyway, thinking about you made me think about what you said the night of Slughorn’s party, about friends and being yourself without judgment.

I’m not even sure if my owl will find you, to be honest — I don’t know how the post works when the recipient is in a Muggle home. If this letter does find you, then you’ll probably be unsurprised to learn that I’m not all that convinced by your argument. I’ve seen the way people change around others, the way they change themselves to live up to their expectations rather than just being who they are. I know I’ve been a victim of this too. It almost feels like it’s happened more since I noticed it. Except with you. I’m not sure what it means that though we’ve maybe only had one genuine conversation, I don’t feel the need to pretend with you. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt that before, not even with my own mother.

Anyway, I hope you’re doing well in the Muggle world. I know you probably won’t respond, but I do hope there’s at least some relief to being away from wizards at the moment, given everything that’s been happening.

-Blaise Zabini

Hermione read the letter three times over, each time her disbelief growing stronger. Even as her incredulity grew, she found herself having visceral reactions to his words, the responses already forming in her mind. Where did he get off, calling her self-righteous? Was this truly the first time he had written to anyone, except most likely to his mother? She was surprised by the introspection in his words, even as he disagreed with her.

I don’t feel the need to pretend with you.

Her eyes lingered over those nine words, butterflies rising from her stomach to her chest.

She found herself noticing the way Zabini’s t’s tilted slightly to the right, the way his handwriting was neat and reserved, like he himself. She still couldn’t believe this was happening, that she was holding an actual letter written by a Slytherin boy she had never really given a thought to until recently. As she stared at the parchment, she realized she didn’t know what to do.

She looked up at the owl, still sitting pompously on her desk. Should she respond? The owl hadn’t left right away, which made her wonder if Zabini had instructed him to wait for her response. She remembered the summer before last, when Harry had sent Hedwig to peck adequate responses out of she and Ron after they had been sworn to secrecy by Professor Dumbledore.

But it said in the letter that Zabini wasn’t even sure his message would reach her, much less that she would read and respond to it. She supposed she could thank the owl and send him on his way without anything to take back with him. She stared at him, pondering. The owl stared back.

Her heart thudded as she made her decision, heat crawling up her skin. It would be rude not to respond, she told herself.

Hermione went over to her desk, kneeling down to pull open the bottom drawer of her desk, where she kept Crookshanks’ food and toys. She pulled out the spare package of owl nuts she kept there for Hedwig, Pig, and occasionally Viktor’s owl. She quickly tipped a few of the nuts into a shallow bowl and placed it onto the desk next to the owl. He blinked at her silently, unimpressed.

She grabbed a few sheets of loose leaf paper and a pen from another drawer — she didn’t feel like searching for her inkwell and quill.

She read Zabini’s letter again, trying to figure out how to start.

Zabini,

I won’t pretend I’m not surprised to receive your letter. I wasn’t sure anything I’d said that night would actually stick, and had decided to write it off as a random but not unpleasant interaction. I don’t know how much I like being called ‘self-righteous,’ much less by someone who seems set on walking around with a superior air about him.

With that being said, you’re not wrong about people changing themselves when they’re with friends, but I don’t think that’s always a bad thing. There’s a difference between conforming and being considerate. If you expect not to change around your friends, to make them feel welcome and not judged, then you aren’t a good friend. I suppose you do have to be sure to stay true to yourself, but anyone forcing you to change who you are isn’t your friend. I’m glad you don’t feel the need to pretend with me.

The Muggle world is okay. In terms of not having much to do, I’m afraid we’re in the same boat. My parents have been quite busy in the time leading up to Christmas, but they often spend most of their time at work. It’s lonelier than I remembered. I haven’t truly spent time here in years, and it’s not like I can just knock on Rachel Shellstrop’s door after not having spoken to her for six years. But I know I need to do a better job of being here for my parents, especially given the way things are going in the wizarding world.

I thought it would be a relief, but the magical world has truly become my home at this point. Coming back to the non-magical one can be a bit of a culture shock after being away for so long. I always feel like I’m on the wrong foot here. Everything is familiar, but I no longer belong, and I’d rather be where I’m most understood.

I hope you have a good Christmas.

-Hermione Granger

She read her response a few times over to make sure it sounded okay. More than checking that there was no information someone might read into if they intercepted it, Hermione was more worried about not sounding like a total dunderhead. She thought she’d done okay — it was only a little clunky in the way that friendly letters to a person she’d never expected to be friends with was.

She folded up the letter and went to attach it to Zabini’s owl. He hadn’t moved from his spot the entire time he’d been there, not even attempting to eat the snack Hermione had set out for him. Once she’d fastened the letter to his leg, he hopped over to the window sill, flying out without hesitation. Hermione watched his flight, nerves fluttering in the pit of her stomach.

To Be Continued

#Blaise Zabini #Hermione Granger #Hogwarts

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