#she's firm but still silly and cheerful when it suits her

[aturinfortheworse]

I was working with a girl in maths and she started laughing so I was like "is the question funny?" and she said "no I'm laughing at my own business in my head." Which is just the best boundary setting and communication I was all 😍😍😍

And then after a minute she said "ok I have to stop laughing. I'm putting my serious face on." and again I 😍😍😍 especially because that is something I say to myself.

[sumeru-academy]

Bride to be.

synopsis: you catch the bouquet at a wedding.

character(s): jean, eula, mona (seperate).

warning(s): mentions of marriage.

note(s): female reader, reader wears a dress and heels, second POV.

p.s: jean is wearing a suit but I could not write that description in so please use your imagination :(

—mod angel 🎐

JEAN GUNNHILDR

“Are you okay? Do your feet hurt?” 

With Jean’s arms wrapped protectively around yours, the two of you swayed to the romantic, slow-dance waltz together as couples just like you danced in the background of your vision. Sure, your feet ached, your dress was scratching up your thighs, and the people around you were starting to give you a headache but you’ve never felt more alive. Jean’s firm yet warm touch upon your body never ceased to make your heart flutter, and with the close proximity between you too, your heart was practically close to flying off.

“In all honesty, I’m in agony with these heels,” you chuckled, resting your head beneath your lover’s neck. “But, I do like being able to dance with you at eye level. So, I can bear the pain a little while longer.” 

Jean casted a worried look with her eyes and stopped dancing to hold your shoulders. “That’s not good. You might get blisters if you overextend your comfort. Would you like to go home now? I can carry you if you’d like.” She kneeled down on the floor in a princely manner and reached to remove your shoes. “May I? I brought spare flats in case you got tired.”

Of course she did. Jean was never one to be unprepared.

“Hah, you always seem prepared for everything, Jean.” You grinned, moving to go sit down at your designated table. “I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have you.”

The tips of the Gunnhildr’s ears glowed bright pink as she moved to kneel down in front of you. Carefully removing your heels like they were Cinderella’s glass slippers and placing a kiss just above your knee. “Any pain? Do you feel sore anywhere?”

“Are you gonna give me a massage if I do?” You joked. 

“If you want, I can.” Her face looked dead serious. 

“Ah…Jean, I’m joking.” You pressed the back of your hand to your mouth to stifle your laughter. You couldn’t help it, Jean was so cute when she was serious! “I’m fine, but those flats you brought do sound quite nice. Maybe at the next wedding I’ll plan to wear something more convenient next time.”

Jean smiled and slipped on the pair of flats she brought along delicately on your feet. Almost reenacting a whole Cinderella scene with you as she was so gentle and cautious with sliding the piece of footwear on. “Perhaps. But if you ever forget again, I’ll always have an extra pair just in case.”

She looked up at you with those adoring, blue eyes before her attention was taken away from the various cheers and squeals of women. All surrounding the bride of the wedding like some sort of weird formal rave. The bride was positioned at the top of the stage with her back turned to the crowd of cheering women, all eager with their hands in the air as they waited for her to throw the objects in her hands. 

A bouquet. 

“Oh! They’re doing the bouquet toss!” You fawned. “Jean, do you think I…?”

She smiled warmly at your indication and nodded. “Of course, you still qualify for a bachelorette after all.” Though that word left a bitter taste in her mouth. “Go on. I’ll be waiting right here for you.”

You beamed at this response and quickly kissed her cheek before running off, much faster now that you were no longer wearing heels. Jean couldn’t help but smile brightly at how excited you were to partake in such a funny little wedding tradition. I mean, catching a bouquet to indicate who’s next in marriage? It was a silly idea, yet Jean couldn’t help but let her mind take off with the concept in mind.

You married to her.

Jean would be lying if she said she never thought of the idea of marriage. The two of you had been together through thick and thin, dealing with any and every obstacle together as if you shared a single body. She always thought she was destined to lead the nation of Mondstadt alone, but when you came along, she finally realized just how important –and fun– it would be to have someone who loved her in her life. Someone who wanted to share the rest of their life with her. 

And she wanted to spend the rest of hers with them too. 

An erupt of screams snapped her out of her thoughts. The swarm of bachelorettes clearing to make way for the lucky woman in the middle. ‘I can’t see her.’ Jean thought worriedly. ‘Was she trampled by the others? Y/N–!’

Standing up from her seat, Jean froze when she heard your shout. 

“Jean!” You shouted from the crowd, your voice far from distress as it sounded more like happiness. 

“Y/N?” The crowd parted like the Red Sea to show you standing in the middle. The lights from the wedding cascading a heavenly glow in your smile when you turned around. Bouquet of roses in hand. 

“I caught it!” You shouted, a broad smile on your face as your fellow bachelorettes cheered for your win. “I caught it, Jean!”

Indeed you did, but Jean didn’t have it in her to respond. Simply staring at you with the deepest blush ever, as all she could think about was you in a wedding dress, getting married to her and smiling through a thin veil that masked your everlasting beauty. Jean couldn’t talk. She couldn’t fathom. And yet when she sees you jumping around excitedly with the bouquet in hand, a burst of serotonin tells her ‘yes, you can marry this girl. She caught the bouquet to marry you.’ And Jean realizes that she can marry the girl of her dreams, and she will.

‘Even in a dress that isn’t white, you look more like a bride to me than any woman in this room…’

EULA LAWRENCE

Eula never really liked weddings. From all the weddings she was forced to partake in as a child, they were always the same, stuffy, boring weddings that bored her to death and made her loathe such events whenever she were invited to one. Weddings to her were just an excuse for the Lawrence clan to gather up as one big group, and act like assholes once more until Eula couldn’t stand it. It’s come to the point where every time a wedding is even mentioned, Eula would flinch and think back to all the bratty adults she had to listen to while stuck at a table with barely edible food.

Though, this time the wedding she was invited to wasn’t as sufferable as she thought. For one, her clan wouldn’t be related to the event at all, and two, you were there; her loving and doting girlfriend that begged her to go as your date. And how could she not? After all, she did look quite attractive in formal wear. 

But you…you. You were another story. When you came out for Eula to pick you up she was beyond smitten. Barely able to get her words across as you laced your arms with hers and made your way to the carriage so that you could be taken to the wedding venue. Even then, Eula could not get a word out!

But she could now.

“The bride is honestly so beautiful. I think her dress was imported from Fontaine.” You pushed around one of the fancy looking dishes that you were served and turned to Eula for her opinion. “Do you think I could order a dress as good as that? Ah, but the shipping…I’d need to save more mora…”

“You do not need a dress to enhance your beauty.” Eula crossed her arms, almost appearing mad as she furrowed her brows. “Just being with me has always been a treasure.”

A beat of silence passes by and Eula quickly unfolds her arms. “H-However, if you want a dress from Fontaine I will gladly order it for you if you wish.” The higher pitch in her voice gave away her frenzied panic, and you couldn’t help but giggle in response.

“You’re always so sweet to me, Eula. So charming even when you’re being silly.”

“I am not being silly.”

She all but huffed that response like a steam engine about to explode, causing you to burst out into a fit of giggles and prod a tiny smirk onto the bluenette’s face. “Oh Eula, this is why I love you so.”

‘And I love you too.’

A bunch of screaming women cut your moment short as you both turned to see the ravenous swarm of desperate singles reaching to try and catch the bride’s bouquet, as she was standing far off to the side ready to launch the flowers in the air. Who would’ve thought that so many women were desperate to get married in Mondstadt? Apparently here was your answer.

‘Such a foolish tradition.’ Eula thought, frowning at the sight. ‘Letting a mere bouquet of flowers decide when you get married? How odd.’

“Ah, the bouquet toss!” You exclaimed joyfully, “I’ll be back my love, I want to join in on the festivities too!”

You ran off to join the crowd of desperate women and Eula couldn’t help but be surprised by your actions. Were you really going to engage in such an activity? Eula couldn’t help but be curious. 

You stood yourself in the far back and put your hands up adorably as you weren’t as ravenous as the other singles in the crowd. The other women fighting for their spot to shine, while you bounced on your heels for some extra height in order to strengthen your chances. Ouch, that was cute. Eula glanced at the wall to hide the overbearing smile stretching over her face. Too much for the knight to take. 

“It’s mine!” Several women called out. The bouquet bouncing along aggressive hands before making its way to the back and landing right into your hands. Holy Barbatos you did not expect that.  

“Woah—!” You stumbled with the bouquet for a second before holding it firmly in your arms. “I…I caught it! Eula, look! It landed!”

She turned to the sounds of your cheering and audibly gasped when she saw you running over with the bouquet in hand. Leaving a trail of sad, single women to disperse as you came home as the lucky champion of the evening. “It just crowd-surfed and landed in my hands! Isn’t that interesting? It’s almost like it’s fate!” 

Fate.

Eula stared at how excited you were to win such a tradition and watched as you plucked a flower from the bunch and held it out to her. “For my lady,” you joked in an over dramatic voice, bowing like a dame and presenting the rose as a gesture of romance. 

“All that for a flower,” Eula scoffed, though she took the flower from your hands and twirled it, a small smile reaching her lips. “Thank you, I will treasure it.” 

“Of course, it’s extra special since it’s from a bouquet I caught. Maybe it’s destined for us to get married next, hm?”

Although a playful little jab at the bluenette, Eula couldn’t help but wonder if the destiny was real. The way the bouquet bounced off the other hands and just landed in your arms was a bit odd in her eyes. Maybe it was just the fate of destiny that brought the bouquet to you. Who knows, perhaps Barbatos had blessed the winds to carry the bouquet towards you, gifting you with the reward of changing fate tonight. 

Eula’s cheeks flushed. But what would mean you and Eula would be getting married next! Marriage! As in wife and wife, officially together in legal documents and last names!

She turned to you and saw you playing idly with the roses plucked straight from the bouquet. Twirling the thorn-stripped stem in your hand before pinning the ornament behind your ear. ‘Beautiful.’ Eula thought. And for a second she forgot all her worries and wondered if a dress could enhance your beauty even more. A wedding dress.

‘Perhaps weddings aren’t too bad. As long as it’s a wedding between you and I.’

MONA MEGISTUS

Let’s be honest, Mona really only agreed to attend the wedding simply because she got to eat free fancy food. That, and it was also an excuse to have a free fancy dinner date with you, something she unfortunately bashes herself over as she’s not able to treat you to the fanciest places all the time. 

As snootish as Mona can be, she really beats herself up over not being the perfect girlfriend for you all the time. Sitting here with you at an expensive wedding with couples in their fancy clothes made her realize just how pathetic she really was when in comparison to the bride and groom. The fact that they could afford all of this, all the food, the decorations, the people, and look so content with themselves just made Mona feel as if she could never live up to those standards. I mean, how could you even love her when she couldn’t even afford basic roses? She couldn’t even treat you right, let alone love you properly.

Why do you even stay with her?

“Is something on your mind, my love?” You murmured out of concern.

“Hm? Oh, I was just marveling at the taste of this salad. The dressing is nothing like I’ve ever tasted.” You chuckled over her enthusiasm for salad. Mona always seemed to be some sort of salad connoisseur whenever you’d go out to eat, and her love for such a simple palette made her all the more cuter. “Is it really that good? I thought I made a pretty good salad at home.”

Mona rolled her eyes playfully and stabbed a piece of tomato. “Your salad is…on par. That is a compliment considering this was made by a professional chef.”

You feigned a look of hurt before giggling and going back to your meal. The loud sounds of songs and people dancing drowning out as all Mona could listen to was the sound of you enjoying yourself. You seemed so content, so at ease, and all Mona could think about was how to afford all of this if she wished to spend her future with you. 

And she really, really did.

“You keep staring at me with those wide, unblinking eyes.” You scrunched up your shoulders at the sight. “It’s creepy.”

“What? Am I not allowed to stare at my own girlfriend?” Mona scoffed dramatically. “I really thought loving you meant I could admire you for as much as I pleased. Can I not?”

“It’s just weird, you’ve never been so laser-focused on my face before.” You bashfully laughed. “Are you really okay? You seem so out of it this evening.”

“Of course I’m okay. I just like watching you.”

“That’s so creepy taken out of context.”

“I’m not creepy!”

Mona swatted at your arm and you couldn’t help but stifle your laughter as she tried so hard to defend her honor. Her cheeks mirroring that of a hamster’s as they puffed up like tiny balloons out of frustration. “Honestly, what did I even see in you back then? The stars are truly strange for pairing me up with you as my soulmate.”

“Sure, blame the stars for falling head over heels for me. Klee told me about how you’d pray to the stars every night that I was single.”

“I– buh– KLEE–!”

“Hah…Don’t be too hard on the girl, Mona. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have had the courage to confess to you.” You took note of the pink starting to glow on the astrologist’s ears. For someone so “high and mighty” as she so often claimed, she really couldn’t hide her own embarrassment well. “Come on, let’s lighten up a bit, Mona. We’re at a wedding, let’s go enjoy ourselves.” 

“...I suppose you’re right, darling.” Mona huffed. “Now, I believe I owe you a slow dance for–”

Suddenly a bouquet slammed itself into your head and landed right on top of your lap. The both of you shrieking like little girls as you had no idea what just happened until you fully registered what you were hit with.

“AAAAAAA wait wait–! Mona, stop screaming! It’s just the bride’s bouquet! Mona I’m okay don’t scream–!”

You lifted the bouquet of pink up to your face to show Mona and smiled charmingly with a facefull of flowers. “It’s just the bouquet Mona! Somehow I managed to catch it!” Mona was still shell-shocked to fully register that you were okay. “I caught it! I caught the bouquet with my face and I didn’t even try!”

Ignoring the depressed wails of the unlucky women who weren’t as lucky as you, you got out of your chair and went over to hug Mona, who was now finally starting to wake up from her daze. 

“Mona, do you know what this means?!”

“Huh? What–?”

“We can get married next!”

MARRIED?!

You squeezed Mona so hard she swears she saw the stars on the ceiling. Yet despite the bone-crushing hug you gave her all she could think about was that you caught the bouquet, and in Mondstadt traditions that meant that you were next in line to get married next. You while you were dating her.

‘Married? Y/N wants to get married next? With me? Why?!’ If Mona’s eyes could spin they would. Too overloaded with information to comprehend the thought. 

“How wonderful this is, it seems like we were blessed with fate huh?” You joked. Though, when it came to fate, Mona never joked around. “I can’t wait to potentially spend the rest of my life with you…”

The astrologist tensed up at your words before softening in your hold. You quickly kiss her forehead before running off to show your lucky surprise to your friends, leaving your girlfriend standing by your table in both shock and dumbstruck love for you. ‘She really wants to spend the rest of her life with me…’ Mona pondered, heart beating against her ribcage as she grasped the edge of the table for stability. “Hah, I was worried for nothing…”

She looked over at you flaunting your accidental bouquet catch to various guests and smiled as you seemed so happy with the implications of having such a lucky catch. The astrologist sitting back at your table and watching you quietly from afar just as she did back when she pined for you all those years ago.

‘I suppose I don’t need an expensive wedding to make you happy. Just us being there makes it worth a whole fortune.’

[ceebit]

wc : 2.5k. teacher!au. fem prns used.

note : here’s part two ! crying over this so hard where’s my own cheol </3 | part one here <3

you haven’t seen seungcheol since your impromptu lunch not-date disaster. even your students are starting to pick up one your downturned demeanor, sending you pitied looks and pouty frowns when you visibly deflate everytime someone who isn’t him knocks at your door.

soo-ah especially seems to be the most disheartened, quietly pattering up to your beanbag chair in the corner during nap time. she climbs into your lap without a word and you let her, gently brushing away strands of hair from her face as she settles against your chest.

“miss yn?” she mumbles after a few minutes of silence, little hand curled into your cardigan. it’ll be rumpled by the time everyone gets up, but you don’t have the heart to tell her to let go. “is mr. cheol not your friend anymore?”

your heart sinks at her dejection. you didn’t even know how to answer it without your heart wilting in sadness, so you take to playing with her hair to distract the sad thoughts from blooming.

“we’re still friends,” you answer, though you don’t sound convincing even to yourself. “mr. cheol has just… he’s been busy. you know he teaches his own class as well,”

“but he would always come and say hello! even in class!” you gently put a finger to your lips and glance at the other students, and soo-ah pouts but lowers her voice. “i miss him…”

something in your chest breaks. “me too, sweetheart.” your voice is a whisper as you hold her close, head resting atop hers. “me, too.”

nap time comes and goes, but the silent treatment remains firm.

you pass jeonghan in the halls a few times, running errands in between breaks, and you try your best to inquire about his closest friend without seeming too imposing. he just shrugs, aura of nonchalance off putting at front, but the look he sends you says otherwise.

“cheol’s stubborn,” he murmurs over the copy machine, a helping hand in your towers of worksheets needed in the next thirty minutes. “it’s not the first time i’ve had to pull his head out of his ass.”

you frown slightly, nudging his shoulder, and jeonghan snorts.

“that’s cute. defending his honor even when he’s been radio silent.”

“hannie,”

“i’m just saying,” he relents, but his mirth never leaves. “besides. i wouldn’t take it personally. he’s head of field day this year and has been really busy, though. try talking to him then, yeah?”

your answering okay is less enthusiastic at the timeline, but your thank him nonetheless with a faint smile as your worksheets finish printing. the moment you slip out of the office and the door clicks shut, jeonghan whips his phone out to fire off a slew of texts.

jh: can’t believe i’m playing middle man because you’re too afraid to ask if she’s actually seeing him -_-

jh: you have until field day to get yourself together, you big oaf

jh: you’re lucky i didn’t tell her you’re hiding out in your office because you can’t face her ….

his phone dings not too long after.

sc: yeah yeah.

sc: thanks.

jeonghan rolls his eyes.

jh: you can thank me when you finally make a MOVE !!

summer is bright on the horizon, the sun beaming down its pretty rays for all to bask in, and you shed your hoodie lest you begin to sweat through it. a few whistles and friendly cheers follow suit, and you all but wave them off cheekily, striking a silly pose that makes your students gathered around you burst into giggles.

joshua’s borrowed baseball cap nestled comfortably on your head, you grin down at all fifteen of them with newfound vigor. it was your first field day as a pledis elementary teacher, but you figured the same rules applied to any regular old sports filled day—fight hard, play fair, but win at all costs. and you expected nonetheless from each and every one of your little fighters.

clapping twice to gain their attention, you place your hands on your legging-clad thighs to lower yourself to their level. “are we ready to play?”

“yeah!” soo-ah and a few other pump their fists in the air, and your heart swells at their enthusiasm.

“are we ready to win?”

“yeah!” wriggling in excitement, a few of your boys begin taunting the nearby classes, and you look up to share amused glances with joshua, yaerin, and a few other teachers.

“your kids definitely seemed pumped,” joshua greets when you usher them to the starting line of the egg spoon race, hands propped on your hips after you step back. “must be something in the air?”

“it’s definitely contagious,” you agree, but you throw him a sly look. “i definitely think soo-ah was born with it, though. she looks ready to eat your poor kids alive…”

true to your word, the glint in soo-ah’s brown eyes is especially noticeable on the field, quickly claiming the leader title and dividing her classmates into sections according to each game. if you didn’t know any better, you’d have thought she’d been planning this for months.

“don’t come crying to me when you get bested by my students,” you tease, and joshua shoves your shoulder playfully in response. the two of you laugh amongst yourselves for a bit, and in the midst of your jostling, you spot… him.

joshua relents at your distracted state and follows your gaze to where seungcheol stands with his assistant, vernon, and jeonghan. you recognized vernon from your last board meeting, blunt commentary making it almost impossible to keep a straight face, and you raise a hand to wave slightly.

vernon waves back, hollering something no doubt crudely hilarious, and joshua snickers when jeonghan slaps his shoulder in response. you’re not looking at them, though.

neither is he.

“you guys are so gross.” joshua pretends to gag when he notices, and tugs you over to where yaerin stands leading a playful chant with his students. “tell yn she’s being gross and in love.”

“you’re being gross and in love,” your best friend repeats without missing a beat, and to your horror, the students repeat that as well.

“miss yn is being gross! and in L-O-V-E!”

“joshua hong and kim yaerin, i swear to all things sweet and holy—”

“miss yn is being gross! and in L-O-V-E!” they join the chant with matching smirks, even doing a strangely coordinated dance that sends them both and his students into hysterics. you groan, thoroughly embarrassed by the curious glances you receive, but can’t help the grin you try to hide behind your palm.

this field day was definitely going to be interesting.

“are we having a good time??”

seungkwan grins behind the megaphone as the crowd before him erupts into cheers, students stomping their feet enthusiastically. seungcheol stands next to him looking pleased, and your smile softens at the sight of him looking happy.

it’s not for you, though. the brim of joshua’s cap hides the falter in your gaze.

“so! the scoreboard for this year’s field day is very close. as you all know, mr. hong’s class—”

“it’s joshua!” he hollers from beside you, hands cupped around his mouth as he grins mischievously. “we’re not in class, kwannie, we can be a little informal!”

seungkwan’s expression deadpans in his direction amongst the titters of scattered laughter and muffled snorts, and you all but roll your eyes in good nature.

“as you all know,” seungkwan repeats flatly, “joshie’s class came first last year—”

joshua makes an offended sound at the nickname, and you duck your head to poorly hide your laugh.

“—during the students’ games. but cheol’s team came first in the staff dodgeball game.”

a low murmur rises above the crowd and joshua squints in amusement. you can feel cheol’s stare in your direction, but you don’t meet his eyes.

“same rules apply as last game: the staff will be split in two through a game of rock paper scissors. if you get hit, you’re out, but only below the shoulder. we don’t want a repeat of last year.”

you’re about to turn to ask joshua what could have possibly happened, but soonyoung’s outraged hey! prompts enough laughter to garner a general idea.

“the reigning champion is captain of one team of course,” seungkwan continues, “and this year’s opposing team captain is….”

joshua grips your arm. seungcheol’s gaze narrows, and seungkwan grin takes on a cheshire look.

“yn!”

your jaw drops in surprise, but you quickly mask it with a fierce grin despite your heart hammering in your chest. “i accept!”

the cheers swarm around your head as you excuse yourself up to the stand, waving out to the crowd as you stand next to seungkwan.

“yn’s debut is already impressive! her class is already ranked first in all the games,” seungkwan appraises you with an impressed nod, “but will she keep it up until the end of the game!

“yes she will!”

you grin as soo-ah’s voice pipes up from the crowd, waving eagerly up at you sporting a wide smile to match yours. your students are quick to pick up on the cheer, and soon, the crowd is chanting your name as you beam with pride.

“yn’s got some fans, i see,” seungkwan raises a brow. “but i don’t see cheol wavering one bit! typical of our reigning champion.”

“i won’t go down without a fight,” seuncheol states smoothly, and for a moment, meets your gaze. “let’s hope she can keep up.”

“with the way you complain about your back? it’s you i’m worried about,” you shoot back, and he makes to shake your arm in retaliation but is stopped by seungkwan’s arm.

“let’s save it for the battlefield,” he grins. “may the seventh annual teacher’s dodgeball game begin!”

the games of rock paper scissors are quick and brutal, and you sweep your gaze across your team with a stern expression. joshua, minghao, vernon amongst your team, you nod a quick greeting to the others you vaguely remember and flash a smile.

“hey everyone. i’m new here as you all know,” you address the team, and they all snap to attention. “but i’ve never let that deter me from getting what i want. i’m here to win and won’t expect anything else from each one of you.”

you place a hand in front of you, determined and steady. “are we in it to win, or are we here to be played?”

joshua and vernon immediately place their hands over yours with grins to match, and one by one, you see the spirit filter through everyone else.

“let’s crush the other team.”

turning around, you point to seungcheol with a lazy smirk as your team cheers behind you.

“prepare to eat grass!”

vernon cracks up at the play on words. you don’t hear his answering holler due to jeonghan tugging him in the opposite direction, but his expression says everything you need to know. he wasn’t backing down from this game, but neither were you.

“well this is an interesting turn of events.”

seungkwan looks insanely pleased, leaning forwards from his announcer’s post. visor blocking the sun from blinding his view, he brings his megaphone to his lips once more.

“looks like we’ve boiled down to just two players—our beloved captains, no less.”

ball in hand, you pay no mind to seungkwan’s hosting as you focus on the player before you. emptyhanded, he has two balls on either side of him that he doesn’t reach, gaze locked on your every move. he knows if he bolts for either one, you’ll tag him out as soon as he turns his back—and it’ll be game over, his winning history halting to a stop.

seungcheol frowns, his predicament dire, and hisses quietly when you move opposite him when he inches closer to the ball on the left. he looks fed up, brows furrowed, and you can’t help the cocky smile that spreads across your lips at the sight.

“what’s the matter?” you coo, and mirror his movements as he makes another failed attempt. “they’re right there… only a few steps and you’d have one.”

yn, no flirting on the field! someone that suspiciously sounds like yaerin shouts, and you stifle a giggle at the retort.

“you’re a piece of work,” seungcheol groans, and shakes his head.

“you like it,” is out of your mouth before you can stop it, and it stuns you both.

what?

his eyes widen, lips parted as he stands straighter, and you take your chance before he can form any words about your slip up. your ball hits his leg and he grunts, the ball ricocheting from the force of your throw before he can grasp it.

seungkwan’s whistle echoes in your ears and you fall to the grass in relief.

soo-ah bolts out of joshua’s arms and careens into you at full speed, yelling excitedly as your team and students burst into cheers. you’re knocked flat on your back but you laugh, hugging the girl to your grass stained shirt with a grin. your name is chanted as you’re hoisted up and onto joshua and vernon’s shoulders, and you allow yourself to laugh and wave as seungkwan hands you a little trophy.

“congratulations to yn leading her team to victory in her first year!” he points to your grinning face, “we expect to see great things from you.”

the crowd disperses for food and drinks after you’re congratulated more times than you can count, but the one person you’re looking for is no where to be found. handing soo-ah your trophy, to which she squeals in delight and rushes to boast about, you spot him loitering near a secluded area and you approach him with caution.

“…hi.” your voice makes him look up, and you suppress a shiver as his gaze washes over the green patches on your white tee. you offer a smile, “no hard feelings?”

he simply holds your gaze, silence becoming too much to bare, so you open your mouth to rattle off an excuse and slip away—but he stops you with a hand on your arm and draws you close.

“you’re a piece of work,” he murmurs, and flicks the brim of your cap. you shoot him a dirty look and he smiles, finally, when you fix it. “but i do like it.”

you freeze, embarrassment creeping up your neck. “that was just shit talking,” you laugh nervously, hands waving. “i didn’t mean it—”

“but i do like it,” he repeats, and his smile turns fond. “i like you.”

oh.

your hands drop to your sides, lips parted in surprise. “you do? i mean, i thought it was obvious that i liked you—i mean, what—”

he laughs and you pull the cap further down on your head. seungcheol only lowers himself so you meet his eyes in your sheepish state, and a pretty smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

“i want to take you out for lunch. for real,” he adds with a pointed look, and you bat at his arm. “maybe…. this friday? after classes?”

“i’ll smell like glue,” you retort weakly.

“it beats the smell of the gym any day.”

bonus:

soo-ah watches the two of you proudly from where she’s perched in seungkwan’s lap, and high-fives him when seungcheol pulls you into a hug.

“i still can’t believe she planned on this,” yaerin stares at the little girl in awe. “is every kid in the school a genius?”

“no,” joshua snorts, “just this one.”

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[bradshawsbaby]

Pool Day

Pairing: Rooster x Wife!Reader

Author’s Note: I’ve been meaning to write more stories about the Bradshaw family, especially now that I’ve been going wild with Bradshaw baby fever, so here’s a simple little summer fluff piece!

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, Goose and Lydia Bradshaw being really adorable, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw being the cutest dad ever.

(Peak Dad!Rooster energy in this gif!)

“Mommy, I want to swim!” Lydia exclaimed, wiggling in your arms as you tried to lather her in sunscreen. At three years old, your daughter already had a mind of her own and she wasn’t afraid to show it.

“I know you want to swim, sweetie, but I need to make sure you have your sunscreen on first,” you explained patiently, keeping a firm hold on the toddler. Much like her father, she hardly knew how to stand still.

“Why?” she pouted, huffing slightly, which forced you to bite back a smile. That was her new favorite question. Goose had been exactly the same at her age.

“So you don’t get a sunburn,” you told her, gently rubbing some of the Water Babies sunscreen onto her arms. “Remember when Daddy had those red marks all over his nose and cheeks?” you asked, thinking back to the sunburn Bradley had acquired just last week during one of his training exercises.

Lydia nodded, covering her mouth with her tiny hands as she giggled in merriment. “Daddy looked silly!” she laughed, standing still long enough that you were able to quickly coat the rest of her exposed skin in sunscreen.

“That was a sunburn. And it doesn’t feel good, so that’s why we put sunscreen on. It keeps us nice and safe from the sun,” you said, holding up the bottle of lotion for your daughter to see.

Looking up at the sky curiously, she asked, “Is the sun mean?”

“No, sweetheart,” you laughed, pulling her into your arms and adjusting the straps on her watermelon bathing suit. You’d just purchased it for her a few days ago and she’d insisted on wearing it today. “The sun is very nice. But it’s also very strong, so we just have to make sure we protect our skin so that we don’t end up looking silly like Daddy,” you grinned, tickling her belly lightly.

“Mommy!” Lydia exclaimed, laughing brightly. The sound of it made your heart soar. There was nothing quite like the sound of your children’s laughter. Smiling, your daughter rested her hands on your belly, exposed in the bikini you were wearing and rounded from your third pregnancy. “Can I tickle the baby?”

Tucking some of your daughter’s hair behind her ear, you smiled down at her. “The baby won’t be able to feel it yet, my love. But soon,” you promised her, rubbing a hand over your stomach.

Lydia looked like she was going to ask another question when your five-year-old son’s voice suddenly broke through the crowd. “Mommy! Lyddie! Look!” Goose shouted, standing on the edge of the pool and waving his arms wildly to get your attention. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him, sopping wet with a beaming smile on his face. He’d been particularly proud of the new swim trunks you’d bought him, the ones with the little airplanes all over them.

“We’re watching!” you called back, shielding your eyes with your hand so that you could observe him better.

“Look! Look!” Goose said again in an excited voice, jumping off the side of the pool and straight into your husband’s waiting arms. As soon as your son was successfully in the water, Bradley lifted him up into the air, cheering loudly.

“Did you see?” Goose cried proudly, wiping the water out of his face as he searched for you and Lydia once more.

“Way to go, baby!” you cheered loudly, clapping your hands ecstatically, which made him beam.

“Go, Goose!” Lydia cried, bouncing up and down on her small feet. “Mommy, I want to swim with Daddy and Goose!”

“Okay, sweetie, okay,” you nodded, reaching for her floaties. Your daughter had a lot of confidence in the water, especially for a toddler, but she wasn’t yet quite as adept as her big brother. “Here you go,” you murmured, gently sliding them up her arms. Taking her hand, you led her over to the side of the pool where Bradley and Goose were waiting.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Lydia called out, waving eagerly to her father with what could only be considered the world’s brightest smile.

“There’s my angel!” Bradley exclaimed, opening up his arms wide to her.

Giggling and completely without fear, Lydia jumped off the edge of the pool and straight into your husband’s arms. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, laughing even more loudly when he peppered her cheek with kisses.

“Daddy! That tickles,” Lydia told him, her laughter echoing across the pool deck all the while.

“Mommy, come swim with us!” Goose told you, paddling comfortably in the water beside Bradley and Lydia.

“Mommy’s trying to work on her tan,” Bradley teased, winking at you as he slowly lowered Lydia into the water, her floaties keeping her head well above the surface.

You stuck your tongue out at him playfully, resting a hand on your swollen belly. You still had a few months left to go, but after already having had two babies, you were certainly showing. “I’ll put my feet in for now,” you replied, walking over to the steps so that you could more easily lower yourself down to the edge of the pool.

“Be careful, baby,” Bradley told you immediately, lifting your daughter up in one arm so that he could quickly wade over to you and hold onto your hand as you slowly sat down.

Watching his father’s actions like a hawk, as he always did, Goose quickly swam over as well and grabbed your other hand. “There you go, Mommy!” he said proudly.

“Thank you, baby!” you beamed, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek.

“I mean, I helped a little, too,” Bradley joked, feigning hurt until you laughingly leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek as well.

“My two men. What would I do without you?” you asked, smiling between your husband and your son.

“Mommy, look! Daddy’s face!” Lydia declared with a laugh, poking at Bradley’s cheeks, which were already turning pink from his time in the sun.

“Hmm, just like I said,” you grinned, winking at your husband. “Goose, honey, could you go grab the sunscreen from my bag?” you asked, watching carefully as your son hurried off to complete his little task. Once he returned, you crooked your finger at Bradley, smiling as your husband dutifully waded over to you. “Alright, Lyddie, think you can rub that in for Daddy?” you asked the three-year-old once you had smeared light streaks of sunscreen on his cheeks.

Nodding excitedly, Lydia swiped at the sunscreen until the white streaks were mostly gone. “There, Daddy!” she announced, kissing his nose.

“Thank you, my love,” Bradley told her, resting an affectionate hand on your knee before moving back out into the water.

After you reapplied some sunscreen to your son’s face, he, too, hurried off to catch up with his father and sister.

Sitting comfortably with your feet submerged in the cool water, you took a deep breath and tried to soak up all the simple joys of the day. You and Bradley had become members of this pool club a few years ago, when Goose was a baby, and it was one of the best investments you had made. The kids were able to take swimming lessons, there was a playground for them to run around in, and the club often hosted barbecues and other fun events throughout the summer. Plus, you had guest passes, so you were able to bring friends and family whenever you wanted.

Resting your hand on your belly, you could feel the baby kicking lightly and it made you smile. “Do you want to be playing with everyone, too?” you asked softly, beaming at the sight of Bradley playing enthusiastically with your children. They were currently hanging off his arms, laughing loudly as he spun them around in the water. They just adored him. And so did you. He made every day so special.

“Is that your family?” an older woman asked as she approached the steps, looking ready to climb out of the pool. She was pointing at Bradley, Goose, and Lydia.

“Yes,” you nodded with a smile, rubbing your stomach without conscious thought.

“Ah, and another one on the way, I see,” the older woman said kindly, smiling at you. “Congratulations! You have a very beautiful family,” she added.

“Thank you, I really appreciate that,” you replied sincerely, your face splitting into another huge grin. You were lucky and you knew it.

“A very handsome husband, too,” the woman whispered conspiratorially, winking and chuckling as she tapped you on the shoulder on her way out of the pool.

“Oh, trust me, I know,” you laughed, waving to her as she walked away.

After a few more hours in the pool, which you eventually came into at Goose’s insistence, the kids finally tuckered themselves out enough that you were able to convince them it was time to head home.

Bradley wrapped the kids in their towels and then drew them into a huge bear hug, making them both laugh as lifted them up into his arms and claimed he was shaking all the water off them.

“I could do the same for you if you need, baby,” he told you with a wink, wrapping his arms around you as you finished packing up the pool bag.

“That’s quite alright,” you laughed, swatting his stomach playfully as everyone finished gathering their belongings.

Goose and Lydia fell asleep within five minutes of being in the car, so you and Bradley carried them in your arms once you got home.

“Are you sure, baby? You can stay here in the car and I’ll make two trips,” Bradley said in concern, obviously not wanting you to have to carry Lydia up the stairs.

“I’m fine,” you whispered with a smile, rubbing your daughter’s back. “Moms are superheroes, you know,” you added with a grin, nudging him softly.

“Oh, I know,” Bradley smiled, following you up to your apartment.

The kids were truly exhausted after a long day in the sun. They barely made a peep as you and Bradley got them ready for bed and tucked them in. Once they were both fast asleep under the covers, you and Bradley took a breather in the kitchen.

“There’s definitely some ice cream still in the freezer,” Bradley told you, waggling his eyebrows with a grin.

“It’s like you read my mind,” you laughed, grabbing the container and two spoons from the drawer. The two of you loved sitting in the kitchen together, sharing ice cream straight out of the carton.

“Our kids are so lucky to have you as their dad,” you told him suddenly, taking another bite of ice cream.

“They’re lucky to have both of us,” he replied, taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“I love you, baby,” you murmured softly, running your fingers over his slightly sunburned cheeks.

“Right back at you, baby,” Bradley winked, leaning over to kiss you tenderly.

[ptergwen]

smoke and mirrors

⇢ richkid!tom x richkid!reader ⇠

w/c: 4.1k

warnings: swearing, drinking, light angst, and implied smut

summary: because of your mother’s insistence on a pristine family image and tom’s messy one, you deny your true feelings for him

a/n: ok ok ok the pics of tom in monaco really made me think and i had to get everything out of my system so here we are! thank you and enjoy x

-

your living room is engulfed by a hushed chatter that comes from far too many guests. half the people, you hardly know. it’s overcrowded, superficial, and the last place you want to be. it’s one of your mother’s get-togethers, as she likes to call them. these things are always far from the casual affairs they sound like.

weeks go into planning, caterers and decorators making themselves at home in yours. the family’s image is everything to your mom, so being a good hostess is her top priority. ironically, she’s more concerned with throwing her gatherings than raising you. so much for family, huh?

the only reason you agreed to make an appearance tonight is that tom might do the same. he’s a really good friend, someone you’ve been able to count on through all the mess that is your lives. you met in high school, when he moved from london to the states. his dad was offered a job promotion he couldn’t pass up. plus, tom and his brothers would be receiving a stellar private education here in america.

it was a win for everyone, especially you. the freckle faced boy who got lost on his way to english class became your closest confidant. tom’s company is such a sweet escape. he’s not interested in opera or the stock market like most people you meet are. he sneaks you out to go on walks at dawn and does shots with you until you can’t stand straight.

as you two continue to grow together, revelations about yourselves have come to light. what you want beyond your inheritances, who you want beyond friendship. you figured out the second part on a faithful night recently. tom showed up to your place with a bottle of tequila. after you drank it down through lots of lime chasers and giggles, he kissed you. you didn’t kiss back.

your heart said to go for it, but your mind pulled you back in. you were so shocked and overcome with new feelings, you froze up. that, and you’d infuriate your mother. although she cares about tom a great deal, she loathes his public figure. he’s always getting papped in places and with people he shouldn’t be. the two of you together would just destroy her.

you still want to please your mom at the end of the day, no matter how deep under your skin she gets.

tom immediately apologized and tried play it off as him being drunk. you grew up with him, became part of each other’s families, which means you know him well enough to know he was lying. he meant every second his lips were on yours.

what you need to do now is something you’ve meant to for a while. the only problem is that you’re stuck at your mother’s party, and tom hasn’t shown up yet.

“y/n, darling,” your mom calls for your attention. she’s dragged you into a conversation with some bloggers, but you haven’t spoken a word. “why don’t you tell us about your trip to spain last summer?” she plasters on her award winning grin and squeezes your shoulder. it’s time to play along.

“oh, it was beautiful,” you halfheartedly reply, more to the bloggers than her. they nod in clear interest. one jots down notes. “we went for a few weeks and visited a bunch of different cities. i’d love to go back sometime.” the typical press formatted answer earns your mom’s approval. you’re off the hook. your eyes start to wander around the room, hoping to set on tom.

“we?” the woman taking notes asks. must everyone pry? “my friend and i,” you shortly reply. you’re standing up on your tiptoes to see over the crowd. you’d think six inch heels would do the trick. “i’m actually looking for him right now, so if you’ll excuse me,” you offer a polite smile and silently pray they won’t ask who. unfortunately, your wishes don’t come true.

the other blogger, a short and stubborn man, speaks up. “just a friend you say? come on, tell us. who’s the lucky fella?” he inquires. your mother raises a firm eyebrow, signaling for you not to.

tom has a reputation for his reckless behavior. it’s your mom’s worst nightmare when the media associates your names under most circumstances. you’re representing her, so she does whatever she can to control how you’re seen. you’re constantly in the papers, being a young socialite and all. it sucks.

“he’d like to stay out of the tabloids, sorry,” you cover for tom, on your mom’s behalf. “i should really go. it was nice meeting you.” the bloggers don’t bother to hide their disappointment as you shake their hands. your mother rubs your back in approval. “thank you for doing that. we’ll talk later,” she speaks lowly. “bye, mom!” you practically make a run for it. 

weaving through the sea of people, you end up by the main entrance. it’s hard not to get lost even though it’s your house. the place is packed with girls just a couple years older than you, wearing pearls around their necks. men’s strong colognes flow through the air. you’re in a form fitting red slip dress and louboutins yourself.

smoke and mirrors is what they call it. you show the pretty parts to distract from your ugly ones.

harrison suddenly comes waltzing in with a lady on either of his arms. you’d expect nothing less. he’s tom’s best friend besides you, considering the failed kiss attempt didn’t change that. their parents worked at the london branch of the same company. they each came to the states and met you. you happily introduced them to your world, helping to make it theirs as well.

“haz!” you meet him at the front door. he’s smirking while he leads the women inside. “fancy seeing you here, isn’t it?” he jokes. “very funny. i died laughing,” you deadpan, curiously eyeing harrison’s plus two. they merely giggle. “listen, have you seen tom anywhere? if he’s coming.” you’re fighting back a frown. “why wouldn’t he be?” harrison questions in a more serious tone this time.

“long story. you have guests to entertain, so i won’t get into it now,” you decide and manage a small smile instead. he perks up. “right. i’ll let you know if i see him?” nodding, you give him a wave goodbye. “enjoy yourself.” “you too, love. cheers!” the girls lean into him, harrison wiggling his eyebrows at you. he’s ridiculous.

hours pass by without word of tom. it isn’t like him to miss an event, especially if you’re in attendance. you despise these exhausting nights, and he’s supposed to be your rock during them. he should have his arm draped around your shoulders, whispering silly remarks to you while you hide out somewhere. you miss him more than you thought possible.

you’re just about to give up when you spot nikki ushering her husband inside. behind them follows tom, clad in a grey checkered suit with his locks perfectly tousled. he’s here. you waited the whole night, and he finally came.

tom kisses his mom on the cheek before strutting over to the drink table, not without a few reporters hassling him. they’re probably looking for another holland scandal to break. he declines their requests for comments on this and opinions on that, instead pulling up a chair next to harrison. the two exchange hugs and fix themselves glasses of champagne, you watching their encounter.

harrison fills tom in on the drama he’s missed tonight while they sip their drinks. tom keeps forcing smiles that don’t reach his eyes. he’s fiddling with his fingers, leg bouncing up and down steadily. those are the telltale signs he needs saving. however awkward it may be, you’re going to have to break your silence. it was bound to happen eventually.

“mate, i’m telling you. she fit her entire first right up her-“ “boys,” you cut into harrison’s story, greeting him and tom. his face tints deep pink upon your arrival. “don’t let me stop you. finish your charming anecdote,” you encourage him and subtly glance over at tom. he’s biting back a grin as he sets his elbows on the table.

“not with a lady present. let’s just… pretend you didn’t hear that,” harrison chuckles nervously and hops to his feet. “i’m gonna leave you two to chat.” humming, you move to take his chair. tom sucks in a breath. “what happened to the girls you brought?” you wonder. “they left. said they got bored,” harrison admits, tom stifling laughter. he elbows his friend for that.

“oh, fuck off. i’ll see you later,” he mopes, flicking your arm for good measure. tom salutes him and grabs his nearly empty champagne. “so long, bruv.”

it’s just you and tom now, seated side by side, silently so. he has no intentions of speaking first. he’s too embarrassed, and you don’t blame him. this is on you. you clear your throat before starting the conversation.

“can i top you off?” you tap the bottom of his glass with a tiny smile. tom shakes his head. “i’m alright, thanks.” he finishes the last sip and sets it down, turning to face you. your smile has vanished. “wasn’t sure you were gonna make it. i’m glad you did,” you change the subject. as if he’s considering the sincerity behind your words, tom furrows his eyebrows.

“mum wanted us to. she dragged me and dad straight off the golf course,” he explains and clasps his hands in his lap. his fingers interlock with each other. you fight off the urge to replace them with yours. “we would’ve been here sooner, but the paps are camped outside.” the hint of a smile forms on his lips, at last. “guess it’s not often you get the town’s finest under one roof.”

“you think i’m one of the town’s finest?” you tease, resting your chin in your palm. something flashes behind tom’s eyes. he looks right into yours, scooting closer. “absolutely. you’re the most eligible bachelorette in this whole building.” you allow a toothy grin to spread across your face. “tommy, stop it. you’re too nice to me.”

the nickname is music to his ears. tom looks you up and down, licking his lips simultaneously. “no, seriously. you look gorgeous,” he muses, you pushing at his chest. he exhales a breathy laugh, and you giggle yourself. “red’s definitely your color.” “reverse card. you wear it way better than i do,” you insist. your fingers tug at the collar of his suit. “too bad you didn’t match me.”

you’re relieved you two can talk like you usually do, light flirting and good vibes. it might not be so hard to put the kiss behind you. well, you can’t go on pretending it didn’t happen. you have to at least discuss the fiasco. tom should know why you didn’t reciprocate, then you can take it from there. whether he still has feelings for you, assuming he ever did, will depend on how that turns out.

“not to ruin the fun, but we still have to talk,” you murmur, tom’s body stiffening across from yours. he’s not sure he’s ready to discuss that. “can it wait? we’re at a party,” tom reminds you, running a hand through his styled locks. “yeah, my mother’s. don’t tell me you’re having a good time,” you playfully chastise him. he simply shrugs. “hardly. you’re the best part.”

you ignore the butterflies roaming about your body.

“you won’t mind a quick convo, then. it is with me,” you attempt to persuade him and place a hand on his knee. tom coughs a bit too loudly, the contact surprising him. “you know what? i think i’ll take you up on that drink first,” he decides with a mustered up smile. “coming right up.” you pat his leg before taking his glass. he chews on his lower lip while you poor the bubbling liquid. that was certainly… odd.

you slide tom his champagne back with an exaggerated wink. tom scoffs at this. “mm, thanks. care to join me?” he brings the alcohol to his lips, eyes never leaving yours. your mother specifically said no drinking tonight, since the press would be here. screw your mother, though. “please. could you hand me a glass?” you eagerly grab the champagne bottle. tom searches for an empty cup next to him.

you two are unspoken drinking buddies at this point.

“here you are, darling,” tom drawls, holding out the glass for you. every time he calls you that, you completely melt. “thanks, tommy,” you purr in response. you’re finally pouring your own drink when someone taps you on the shoulder, and hard. you look behind you to find your mother standing with her hands on her hips, less than thrilled. speak of the devil.

“hello, mother. can i help you?” you make sure to ask rudely. she responds with a smile that’s obviously fake. if tom weren’t here, you’d be getting scolded. “yes, my darling. those bloggers from earlier were hoping you’d finish your interview.” your mom shakes your shoulder in a motherly way. you squint up at her. “didn’t they leave hours ago-“ “they’re back,” she sharply informs you.

she’s lying, and you have a hunch as to why.

frowning, you hold tom’s hand in both of yours. “sorry, this won’t take long. why don’t you go find tuwaine?” you suggest instead. “he’s around here somewhere.” tom gives you an understanding nod and laces your fingers together, even if it’s only for a moment. “must be chatting up some producers or whatnot. i’ll see if i can help.” he’s such an incredible friend to everyone. he deserves the same from you.

“thomas, so lovely to see you,” your mom interrupts. tom stands up, kissing both her cheeks out of courtesy. “you, too. what a wonderful party. thank you for having us.” despite what the rest of the world believes, his manners are impeccable. “of course. give nikki my best, will you?” your mom puts her hands on his shoulders. he grins at her. “definitely. take care, mrs. y/l/n.” “always a pleasure,” she states, nudging you to come along with her.

you shoot tom one last apologetic look as your mother pulls you along and towards the crowd.

tom is no idiot. he’s well aware how she really feels about him.

when a swarm of guests is surrounding you, your mom lets go. you scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. “why would you do that? i haven’t seen tom in days.” she sighs without a care. “isn’t it time you branch out? expand your social circle?” her manicured fingers ruffle your hair. you push away her touch. “i’m social enough. we were in the middle of something really important.”

you begin to walk away, but your mother takes your arm. “whatever you’re about to do, it’s a mistake. he’ll make a fool of you,” she practically spits. yanking your arm from her grasp, you laugh bitterly. “of me, or of the family name? look around, mom.” you gesture to the spot beside her where your dad should be. “as far as i’m concerned, i have no family except tom. i’m gonna go check on him.”

you’re gone before your mom can stop you. she simply stands there, utterly mortified by what you said.

you run around the house to find tom, stumbling in your heels and not giving a fuck. you’d truly meant the part about him being your family. all the holland’s, honestly. they’re the most genuine and caring souls, and you don’t want to lose the one you’re closest to because of your mother’s delusions. 

tom is in a circle with harrison and tuwaine, the three of them chuckling amongst themselves. you’d hate to bug him, but this can’t wait anymore.

“uh, tom?” you mumble his name, appearing behind him. he steps away with another quiet laugh. “hey, y/n/n. that was quick, hm?” your face gives away your distress. his whole demeanor shifting, tom reaches for your hands. “what is it, love? is something the matter?” “just… come with me,” you croak out.

you manage to smile at harrison and tuwaine, dropping one of tom’s hands so you can lead him upstairs. they each return the smile and share curious looks.

following behind you, tom keeps your hand tight in his own. he’d thought you were going to grill him about the kiss that barely happened. it seems like this is a much more pressing matter. his outburst of emotions can be discussed another time. now, it’s time to deal with yours.

you drag tom into the first room on the second floor, which is your dad’s study. he’s away on business this weekend, so he luckily couldn’t make the party. tom sits down in the office chair. you sit up on the desk, in front of him. your lip quivers the second his worried features come into view.

“y/n/n, what’s going on? why are we in here?” tom wonders, his tone soft. your heart clenches. “i- i wanted us to have some privacy when i told you this,” you sniffle out and blink back the tears forming. you’re sort of shaken from the conversation with your mother, and mostly because you have no idea how tom will react to your confession.

his hands come to stay on your thighs, right below your dress. they feel warm against your bare skin.

“tell me what? i’m listening, yeah?” tom gazes up at you with so much love. “lay it all out for me.” god, he’s fucking amazing. if only you knew where to start. “do you, um…” you trail off, letting your tears subside and words settle. “do you remember when your family made your big debut in town?”

a grin replaces tom’s frown, painting his beautiful face. “how could i forget? you made it quite memorable.” he traces circles on your thigh and elicits a giggle from you. “i spilled a whole thing of soda on your white fucking button down,” you recount with a lighthearted sigh. “right before your dad was supposed to introduce you to everyone, too.”

tom presses his tongue into his cheek to hold back another grin. “took ages to get it out. dad went mad when i didn’t show.” he cocks his head to the side, you leaning back on your hands. “you held me hostage in the laundry room so you could do that bloody stain stick.” your mouth drops open in mock offense. “i had to clean up my mess! i wasn’t gonna let the world meet you covered in pepsi.”

that was one of your earliest memories together. the holland’s threw a party and invited everyone who was willing to attend. they had been hoping to properly introduce themselves to the town, and this was their way of doing so. although yours and tom’s friendship was fairly new, you spent all night together because you had experience with such events.

tom’s dad was making a speech to thank the guests for coming. you and him listened from the snack table, until his name was called. he rushed to go up there while you were pouring yourself a drink. he’d bumped into you, and the bottle ended up all over him. you snuck tom right off to his laundry room.

you’d felt terrible as he stood there shirtless and blushing, you aggressively swiping his button down with a stain stick.

“why do you bring that up?” tom questions and continues circling your skin. you purse your lips. “i dunno. it was the last party i actually enjoyed,” you admit, putting your hand over his that rests on your thigh. “like to reminisce when i’m suffering through one of my mother’s.” his eyes shift to where your hands are laced. “i see,” he affirms. “so, is that… all you wanted to talk about?” “not even close,” you laugh out.

a burst of courage coursing through your body, you say it. “when you kissed me the other night-“ “i won’t do it again,” tom cuts in, trying to avoid the rejection he thinks you’ll give him. “it was a mistake, and i’m so sorry. our friendship is more important than my feelings.” you seem excited to hear that, though it’s not for the reason tom expects. “you do have feelings for me?”

he’d forgotten about his i was drunk excuse.

“um, yeah. i do,” he admits, cheeks rosy and lip caught in his teeth. “but, i’ll learn to put them aside, if that’s what’s best.” “no, no. it isn’t,” you dismiss him and put your free hand on his chest. “i love you, tom. that’s what i was really trying to tell you.” your words bring an instant grin to his face. he chuckles in disbelief, standing from the chair.

“fuck, thank god. that’s all i’ve ever wanted to hear.” he’s between your legs now, his hands moving up to your hips. you’re beaming at him as your arms snake around his neck. a burning question comes to tom’s mind. “hang on. why didn’t you kiss me back, then?” he almost whispers, thumb brushing over your hipbone. “this is gonna sound weird, but… my mom,” you reluctantly let out.

“you’re gonna have to elaborate,” tom prompts you and raises an eyebrow. you can’t hold back your eye roll. “she’s never been a fan of the person you are in the media.” his lips form a line. “i gathered.” your fingers tangle in his curls at the nape of his neck reassuringly. “i was subconsciously scared i would be letting her down in some way, if we were together.”

tom allows your hands to work their way up to his scalp. he exhales contentedly as you play with his ever so soft hair. “i understand, she’s intimidating. what’s changed that brilliant mind of yours about coming clean?” your nose scrunches up when he pokes one of your temples. “oh, yeah. i yelled at her earlier ‘cuz she stole me away from you.” his face lights up. “sexy.” “shut up,” you groan. “someone had to tell her off.”

“good thing it got to be you,” tom agrees with a squeeze at your hip. “‘m proud of you, y/n/n. it’s not easy, standing up to mummy dearest.” you tug on his hair. “like you’d know. nikki is a saint.” “that’s what she’ll have you believe,” he says under his breath, you gasping. his lips turn up in a smirk. “on that note… i love you, too.”

“would’ve been embarrassing if you didn’t say it back,” you acknowledge with a cheesy smile. tom dips his head down to rest his forehead against yours. “yeah, yeah. save the attitude for your mum.” your legs easily wrap around his waist, tom’s breath hot as it hits your face. “let’s give that kiss another go,” you mewl. he doesn’t hesitate to reply. “with pleasure.”

tom’s lips land on yours, you kissing back right away. he smiles into it as your lips gently move together. “about fucking time,” he grumbles, your hands situating in his chocolate curls once again. he’s savoring every second you touch him, kiss him, love him. the taste of your mouth is one he’s craved for longer than you could imagine.

it doesn’t take long for things to heat up, you messing with tom’s hair and tom rubbing your hips. you lay back on the desk as his tongue enters your mouth. holding you by your waist, tom hovers over you. his tongue tangles with yours in a deep kiss. between that and his fingers beginning to massage your thigh, you’re done for. you’re ready to take this a step further by the time he’s kissing down your neck.

“tommy?” you grab onto his shoulders, your head back. his lips detach from your skin with a grin. “yeah, love? ‘s everything okay?” he coos, pressing a final kiss to your collarbone. “more than.” you tilt his chin up to peck his lips. “you wouldn’t happen to have a condom, would you? just thinking ahead.” he laughs breathlessly, reaching into his suit pocket.

“conveniently enough, i do. not sure your dad would like me fucking you on his desk, though.” tom sets his hand on your leg that’s still hooked around his waist. “my room’s always available. carry me?” you make grabby hands and bat your lashes. he hoists you up by your waist, not lifting you just yet. “that would break the news of us, no? your mum’s gonna go apeshit.” he keeps his arms around you, chuckling.

“let her. besides, i know a couple of bloggers that would love to announce our status update.” you peck tom’s lips, grinning as you do. you’re suddenly in the air and being picked up by tom. the surprise of it makes you squeal, clutching onto his broad shoulders instinctively. he gives you the look of adoration that’s reserved for you only.

“we’ll go pop a few bottles with everyone, then we’re celebrating on our own.”

[miraculouscontent]

A Change of Heart (post-”Miraculous New York”)

"Kaalki, divide!"

Ladybug felt Kaalki's light wash over her, the kwami emerging and flying a small distance away. They were up on one of the rooftops in New York, overlooking an interview that was happening on the street.

Kaalki hummed in interest, taking the time to see the tall buildings. "What a grand city." Then, her gaze dropped down and she squinted, adding with distaste, "Quite crowded though."

"There's an interview going on right now. That's why. One of their supervillains was just taken down," Ladybug explained, placing her foot up on the edge of the building and peering down to look at the crowd.

"And, what precisely are we here for?" Kaalki asked, hovering near Ladybug's face to follow her gaze.

"Not what, but who. We’re here to see Eagle," Ladybug answered, pointing at the eagle-themed superheroine being interviewed. The crowd was enthusiastically cheering at just about every answer Eagle was giving, and Ladybug couldn't help smiling at the fact that the person she gave the miraculous to was still doing well.

As the interview came to an end, Eagle's eyes shifted from the interviewer to Ladybug, who had made sure to be where the red-and-black of her suit would stand out; she wasn't exactly the definition of "stealthy," and it worked to her advantage in this case.

Eagle jumped up to the nearest rooftop, then waited for the crowd to disperse before leaping over to where Ladybug was. "Hey, Ladybug! What are you doing here?" Her brows creased in seriousness, and she held her fists up like she was raring for a fight. "Did Hawk Moth come back to New York?"

Ladybug waved dismissively. "No, no, it's nothing like—"

"Pardon me," Kaalki said, making sure she was loud enough to be heard. She puffed her chest out haughtily and gestured to herself with a hoof. "I'm Kaalki, the kwami of migration. Pleased to meet you," she said, her tone forced as to imply that she didn't appreciate being ignored.

"Uh... hi," Eagle greeted flatly, then looked to Ladybug for an explanation.

"Sorry about her. She was my ride." Grabbing Eagle's wrist and leading her to the center of the rooftop, where they were less likely to be seen from the streets, she explained, "Anyway, I came here because I was hoping that I could get your help."

Eagle leaned to the side, curious. "My help? What for?"

"Well..." Ladybug hesitated. "This is going to sound like a weird request, but..."

—————

Eagle crossed her arms in thought, still seemingly absorbing the explanation. "You want me to use Liberation on you? To get rid of your—"

"—romantic attachments," Ladybug cut in stiffly, the word 'crush' and 'love' sounding extremely un-Ladybug-like. She blushed in embarrassment and looked away, bringing a hand up to partly hide her face. "Listen, I know you probably don't get this sort of thing. It's already awkward to talk about it while I'm Ladybug, but—"

"No, I get it," Eagle assured, though her expression was neutral.

Ladybug looked at her in surprise. "You do?"

With a slight roll of her eyes, Eagle replied, "Okay, so I don't get all the love stuff exactly, but Uncanny Valley has her own thing for me to deal with. She always wants to help people; she can't help it. Besides, Liiri says that there's always something stopping people from reaching their full potential. Sometimes it's bad, sometimes it's good, and it's my job to figure out what it is." She glanced Ladybug up and down, as if to gauge something. "You really think it's that bad?"

Ladybug responded with a wince, bad memories already starting to surface.

"Alright, wow," Eagle said, hands raised as she took a step back, the reaction having already convinced her while she herself clearly wanted no details about it. "Are you ready then? You know this is only going to last five minutes, right?"

"Wait—" Ladybug blinked in surprise. "You're really going to help me?"

"Yeah?" Eagle replied. Half-offended, she asked, "Did you really think I wouldn't?"

"No! Sorry!" Ladybug rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. "You'd be... surprised, by how bad this stuff usually goes for me."

For a moment, Eagle looked tempted to ask, but shook off the thought just as quickly. Placing her fists to her chest, her gaze went firm, showing that she was ready.

Ladybug stood in place, almost nervous at the prospect of doing this. She was essentially taking out a piece of herself, but it was the only way to test it; the only way to know for sure.

"Liberation!" Eagle called out, spreading her arms as a single light burst out of her.

Ladybug flinched, her fighting instinct kicking in, but she held firm and let the light touch her. For a moment, she was frozen, able to sense Eagle's presence in her mind and even hear her voice. Eagle's voice was calm, but tempting, offering the freedom so desperately desired.

"Ladybug, your love has taken over your life. I release you from it!"

—————

Marinette quickly stashed the glasses in her purse as she checked her phone's timer. She had four minutes and forty-five seconds to do this, and she took a steady breath before stepping out of the alley she'd been hiding in.

As she raced across the street, the fencing students were just filing out out of Françoise Dupont. The moment she saw Kagami and Adrien leaving, she raised a hand, raising her voice so she'd be heard. "Hey, Adrien!"

Adrien and Kagami stopped and glanced her way. Adrien turned to Kagami, saying something and briefly tilting his head in Marinette's direction. Kagami nodded at him in response, and they separated, Kagami heading in one direction and Adrien heading in Marinette's.

At first, Marinette was nervous, her worst case scenario being that Liberation had truly failed or worn off when she de-transformed, or that her feelings were somehow so strong or messed up that even Liberation somehow couldn't help her.

Yet, as Adrien approached, she found that she wasn't shaky at all. Her heart wasn't pounding either. She didn't even feel the slightest bit of awe from his presence.

She was normal. She was okay.

"Hey, Marinette," Adrien greeted with a smile. "Did you need something?"

It took her a moment to answer, still stunned that it'd worked and she'd truly been freed of her crush, even if it was for five minutes. "Oh. No, actually, just..." She reached into her purse and pulled out her phone, checking the time, then kept it at her side as she asked genuinely, "How was fencing?"

Adrien looked briefly caught off guard, though whether he was surprised at her acting differently or just the question was anyone's guess. He then brightened, replying excitedly, "It was great! I got paired up with Kagami again, and you know how Mr. D'Argencourt is with fencing, so he..."

The conversation continued as nothing but casual from there, and Marinette almost felt silly at how amazed she was by such a simple thing. It was actually like she was Adrien's friend; like they were on the same page and she could actually hold a conversation with him. He looked and talked the same way he always did, yet she was perfectly fine. Students passed by and maybe tossed them a brief glance, but completely ignored them otherwise because she wasn't acting "weird."

At worst, she was grinning just a little wider out of the pleasant surprise of the whole thing.

When she'd first thought to "liberate" herself of her feelings for Adrien, she was certain she'd be disappointed by it. She honestly thought that she would see Adrien and miss the heart fluttering, the weak knees, and the sheer dreaminess he used to radiate.

But she was wrong. With her crush gone, she could see herself from an outside perspective and reflect without fretting over the things she would've otherwise. Where she thought there'd be disappointment, there was relief that she could actually breathe and not turn into a mess around him. Her mind wasn't clouded with thoughts, and her eyes could drift wherever she wanted without some brainless thought intruding and warning her that she might miss Adrien blinking if she looked away.

She'd needed this. It was nice; more than nice even. Is this how it could be all the time if she truly moved on from him? No more mocking, no more jealousy, no more "crazy Marinette"? It'd be like a celebrity crush that she grew out of; an embarrassing memory of the past and nothing more.

More importantly, she would remember this. She would remember this feeling; the sanity of not being in love with Adrien, or not feeling whatever that emotion was actually called. To say the word "love" seemed so... wrong.

Still mid-discussion with Adrien, Marinette's phone suddenly beeped with a warning message. She turned it in her hand, seeing that she'd properly set the timer earlier to warn her when there was a minute and half left of Liberation.

Adrien leaned over to look at the screen, but jumped when a loud honking noise abruptly sounded off from behind him. Marinette tried not to snicker, but it was difficult; seeing someone else be the jumpy one was quite the experience, and she'd have to remember that too.

Adrien looked over his shoulder at his limo waiting for him, then glanced back at her apologetically. "Sorry, I gotta go. Can we talk later?"

"Oh, sure! Definitely!" Marinette stashed her phone back in her purse, then waved to him. "See you tomorrow!"

"Bye, Marinette!" Adrien exclaimed, waving as he rushed off. "It was fun talking to you!"

"You too!"

Marinette pursed her lips, trying to contain herself as she watched Adrien get into the limo and ride off down the street. She waited until it was out of earshot, then let herself start squealing, even hopping around and doing a twirl for effect.

"M-marinette?!" Tikki called, concerned. "Did it wear off? There's still time—"

"I'm gonna delete all my Adrien pictures!" Marinette exclaimed. "And take down that disaster of a wallpaper!"

"W-wHA—!!" Tikki gaped. "Marinette, when your feelings come back—"

"That's future Marinette's problem! This feels great!" Marinette cheered, having to suppress her excitement just so she could talk. Raising one hand dramatically, she placed the other to her chest, saying to no one in particular, "Oh, what's that? Me, crushing on Adrien? Ew, no way! We're just friends!"

She laughed triumphantly, a bounce in her step that made it seem almost like she were jogging. She crossed the street, reaching for the bakery door's handle and practically singing to herself, "Just friends~ We're just friends~ Me and Ad~ri~en are just good—"

She paused as she opened the door, seeing a familiar mix of blue and black standing at the counter and talking to her parents. At the chime of the bell, all three looked over at her, Luka's smile welcoming and his lips partially coated in white from what seemed to be a powdered donut.

"Hey, Marinette," he greeted. "We were just talking about you."

"Oh, he's such a sweetheart," Sabine cooed. "He came all the way here just to see you."

Luka blushed a light shade of pink at the obvious teasing, Tom jumping in to exclaim, "And he really thought he had to pay us for sweets! I told him, you're friends with our daughter, you better not put a single coin on that counter, young man!"

The three had a laugh together; clearly, they'd been getting along before she came in.

Yet, Marinette's smile fell from her face, a mental 'oh' echoing in her mind.

She hadn't even considered Luka when she'd thought of taking away her crush on Adrien, but it made sense; Eagle had said love, and Marinette wasn't foolish enough to think that she hadn't felt anything romantic for Luka. It only made sense that her crush on him would go too.

But it wasn't the same. The relief didn't follow the lack of feeling. With Luka, there'd always be a little leap in her heart, then a wave of calm washing over her, but neither were there and she couldn't help feeling disappointed.

Luka's smile disappeared as he noticed her expression. He approached, concern written all over his features. "Marinette?"

They were friends at that very moment; that was all the feeling she had on the matter, but she wanted what she'd had before. She remembered his confession at the TV station and yearned for the warmth in her cheeks when he stared at her and told her how much he loved her with words that were entirely his own; words that told her that he loved her as herself and filled her with a confidence she seldom had outside of being Ladybug.

Everything clicked. Her crush on Adrien represented stress, anxiety, and losing herself, but her crush on Luka represented peace, happiness, and being herself.

She missed how she felt about Luka. She didn't miss how she felt about Adrien.

That was all the answer she needed.

Almost on cue, her phone beeped again, this time to signal that Liberation was over. Marinette took in a shaky breath as she felt pleasantly familiar emotions rush through her again, and she welcomed them back like she would an old friend.

Luka's blue eyes gained vibrance and allure, his lips being coated in powdered sugar suddenly became incredibly cute, and she could think of him as no less than the most handsome boy in the world.

"...Sorry," she said breathlessly, waving a hand to assure him that she was alright. "Let's just say I went through a lot of emotions today. I'm happy to see you, really!"

Luka's smile came back, filling her with its warmth. "I'm glad," he said in relief. Then, taking a glance at her purse, which was still letting out a muffled, melodic beeping noise, he asked, "Sorry, do you have to be somewhere?"

"Hm? Oh, no, not really." She took out her phone to shut off the timer, then flashed him the screen before closing the app and storing the phone back in her purse. That done, she paused to consider things, then dared a glance back at him. "Hey... can we walk for a while?"

He blinked, mildly surprised, but nodded. "Sure. Did—" He froze, apparently only now realizing that he had powdered sugar on his lips. He swished his tongue around to lick it off, then started over with, "Did you want to talk about something?"

Smiling almost smugly in response, she felt confident enough to offer him her arm, as if he were a damsel she was leading around. She'd never seen his eyes widen quite so much before, but he also didn't protest, happily taking hold of her arm.

Knowing that her parents would just be giving their looks of approval if she glanced back, she stepped out of the bakery and led Luka towards the park.

"So, it took a little longer than I hoped, but... do you remember when you were talking about me getting clarity?"

[ragingbookdragon]

Do You Believe In Life After Love? PT. 2

Arkhamverse!Jason Todd x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 2K Warnings: Explicit Language and Angst

Author's Note: I have emerged victorious from my second round with the enemy known only as...The Cringe...it was a glorious battle and I FUCKIN' WON IT. Enjoy that I have now edited two previous stories to read better for y'all! -Thorne

Her cowl was discarded somewhere on the penthouse floor, but she couldn’t’ve been bothered to even care about it since most of Gotham either knew who she was now, or they strongly suggested they did. Even if they did know, they still treated her with the same respect as when she was unknown. She moved automatically to the bar as she unclipped the cape from her shoulders, letting it fall with a thud in a heap of leather as she poured herself a generous glass of bourbon. Setting it on the table, she undid her gauntlets, one coming off, and then the other.

She picked up the glass and walked around the bar towards the couch and coffee table. A flashing red light caught her eye and she looked over, seeing the landline blinking on the side table. As she swirled the amber liquor around in her glass, her fingers pressed the button on the answering machine. Her eyes turned to the heavily tinted windows, and she stared at the city below the penthouse as the machine spit out its usual tone.

“You have one new message, Friday, December 19th.” A sigh sounded through the line, followed by a soft and barely cheerful voice. “(Y/N)? It’s me, Dick…calling for…the seventh time this week.” He let out another sigh, and this time, his voice betrayed his feelings. “Look, I know it’s been hard on you since Bruce…died…but I really think it would be good for you if you got out of Gotham for a while, even if it was just coming over to Blüdhaven for a few weeks.” The line went silent, and after a moment, his voice picked up. “…I really miss you sis and I know that you’re suffering from the weight of keeping Gotham in check. Let Lucius carry it for a while and come spend Christmas with me…Look, I have to go to work now, but please think about it (Y/N). For me…and for Bruce and Alfred…they wouldn’t want you to keep all this up…so…just gimme a call back and we’ll plan something, okay? I love you sis…bye.”

The mention of her departed father and butler made her heart tighten so painfully in her chest that it seemed to stop her from breathing and (Y/N) looked down at her glass, seeing a diluted reflection she didn’t recognize staring back.

Lately, it seemed like every time she caught her reflection as Batgirl, she appeared less and less like she remembered, image darkening with every passing night she was out on the streets alone, fighting with no backup, with nobody in her ear telling her where enemies were or encouraging her for a job well done. She could tell that the woman who wore the cowl and the woman who was the cowl were starting to become one instead of two different people, much like her father appeared sometimes. And while it had been his thing when he was alive, it wasn’t her. She was somebody outside the cowl, but now? Now she didn’t know who was Batgirl and who was (Y/N) Wayne—and the divide between was only it was getting worse as it closed closer and closer to the line.

She finally remembered how to breathe and inhaled deeply, shoving it aside and looking back out the window. His image caught in her eye before she focused on the skyline, her voice firm as she said, “You know, I have to wonder…when you kill someone, do you ever get a little voice in your head that tells you it’s wrong…Arkham Knight?”

(Y/N) spun around, turning her attention to the man standing beside her coffee table, dressed in a suit that was armored similarly to his earlier one a few months back, though the colors were different, and he wore a dark jacket with white leather patches along the shoulders and arms. The helmet was different too, instead of mimicking the ears of her father’s cowl, his was simply rounded and crimson in color, though she bet that his visor input ran on the same tech her father’s did. Her eyes briefly fell to the red bat symbol painted across his chest, and for a moment, everything seemed to fade until the anger came back to her.

She clapped a hand to her chest, her voice cheerfully fake. “Oh, silly me, I forgot! You’re not going by Arkham Knight anymore! You’re going by ‘The Red Hood’!” Her voice lost the fakeness, replaced by a hard edge and she leaned back against the window, suppressing the urge to shiver from the chill, her eyes dark. “What do you want, Jason?”

He stood up straight, his head tipping upwards, and she couldn’t see his eyes, but she knew they were trained on her. “I wanted to see you.”

(Y/N) scoffed, a smile crossing her lips. “Well, you saw me. Now fuck off.”

Jason sighed. “That’s not what I mean.”

“Oh, so you mean you wanted to see how I was doing after you ruined mine and the lives of the people I cared about?” He said nothing, and she leaned over, finger running along the button of the answering machine. “You wanna see me, Jason? Well how about you listen to this?”

She hit play, and a message came through. “(Y/N) Wayne? This is Vicki Vale. I really would like to talk to you about what’s happened in the past few months, and with your dad—”

(Y/N) hit the next button, and another voice filled the room. “(Y/N), this is Jack Ryder. Listen, I know you’ve been hounded by reporters since it’s been revealed that your dad was Batman. I want to talk to you about—”

She hit stop, glowering back at him as she pointed to the machine. “Every. Day. Every day I get the same messages over and over and over again. (Y/N) Wayne are you Batgirl? We should talk about it! Your dad was Batman, so you must be Batgirl! How are you going to pay for all the damage and destruction your dad did all these years? How are you going to answer for what he’s done? How can we trust Wayne Enterprises anymore? What’s it like having to pick up the pieces of a broken life after your dad…after your dad…”

(Y/N) brought a hand to her face, covering her mouth. The tears ran down her cheeks, cascading over her hand, and she glared at Jason, her voice raw with emotion. “Everything that’s happened…is all your fault.”

He took a step towards her, shoulders squared as he placed a hand to his chest. “You can’t blame this all on me, (Y/N). Bruce was the one who activated the Knightfall Protocol—not me.”

Her lips wobbled as she countered hoarsely, “After Scarecrow revealed his identity because of events that you put into place.” She placed the glass on the table, spreading her arms. “So, have you gotten your revenge, Jason? Does it feel better to know that you succeeded in killing my dad? In killing Batman?”

He looked away and something wrathful inside (Y/N) snapped; she picked up the liquor glass and chucked it as hard as she could, missing him by an inch as it hit the wall. It shattered into a million shards as the amber liquid trickled down the wall, and her words came out enraged. “ANSWER ME DAMNIT!”

He met her eyes and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, hands flexing at his sides. “I didn’t mean for all this to happen,” he said, and she barked a laugh full of disbelief.

“What did you think was going to happen, Jason? Reveal who Batman was, kill my dad, and everything else was just gonna work out in the end?” She pointed to the street below. “I can’t walk ten feet out of this building without being hounded by press and reporters about everything.”

She shook her head, feet carrying her past him towards her bedroom. “You get off scot-free with anonymity and I get stuck cleaning up a giant shitstorm. Figures. You can find your way out.” She hadn’t made it a step past him when a hand shot out and curled around her bicep, pulling her back.

(Y/N) thrashed, trying to yank her arm away from his grip. “Let go of me!”

Jason’s grip tightened, and he grabbed her other arm. “No!” He leaned close to her, his voice firm. “We’re not leaving this alone anymore. We’ve been circling one another since that night, and I’m done playing games, (Y/N). We’re talking about this.”

She huffed in disbelief, staring at him. “There is nothing to talk about, Jason.” (Y/N) waved a hand between them. “What we had…it’s gone.”

“Are you sure it is? Because as much as you seem to hate me, you can’t stay away from me whenever we’re patrolling Gotham together.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Okay, firstly, I follow you to make sure you don’t kill innocent people. And secondly, I’m pretty damn sure what we had is gone. I think about punching you more than I do anything else.”

He hummed, staring down at her and she was starting to get the urge to right-hook him when that familiar smugness set in his gaze. The same smugness he used to pull with her a few years ago when they were together. A memory flashed of Robin and Batgirl arguing, her annoyed and him smug as hell.

“I don’t believe you,” he countered lightly.

“I don’t give a flying fuck what you believe, Jason. The truth is we aren’t together anymore.” She started squirming again. “Now let go of me and get the hell out of my penthouse.”

He fell silent and simply stared at her before responding quietly, “Tell me you don’t love me or that you don’t need me anymore and I will.”

(Y/N) froze and her eyes went wide. “Excuse me?” Her voice was a whisper, as Jason released one of her arms, his gloved hand coming up to caress her cheek.

“You can tell me that we’re done all you want, (Y/N).” His hand left her cheek, rising to pull the jacket-hood from his head and yank the helmet off. He tossed it on the couch and Jason gazed at her, his teal eyes boring into hers. “But until I hear you tell me that you don’t love me anymore, I’m not moving from this spot.”

He held his head high, looking down at her. “So, tell me. Tell me you don’t love me anymore and I’ll go.” Jason searched her gaze. “I’ll go and I’ll never come back.”

(Y/N) stood there, the breath in her lungs frozen as they watched each other. After a moment, she lowered her head and murmured, “I don’t…I don’t…” She stopped, swallowing thickly, the tears that had swelled in her eyes threatening to run down her cheeks. “Oh, fuck it…I can’t do it.”

(Y/N) brought her hand up, covering her eyes even though the tears were already streaming down her cheeks. “I can’t tell you I don’t love you because…I still do love you.” She lowered her hand, gazing up at him. “And I never really stopped…no matter how furious I’ve been at you.” (Y/N) went slack against him, letting him wrap his arms around her. “Damn you, Jason Todd…damn you.”

His breath was hot against her ear as he chuckled lowly, tightening his grip. “I know.”

She pulled back a bit, looking at him teary eyed. “This doesn’t mean everything is okay now. I still want to beat the ever-living shit out of you.”

He huffed. “I know you do.”

Her voice turned watery. “I’m still pissed, and you’re still pissed and we’ve gotta work through that to get better.”

Jason nodded. “We will, (Y/N).” His hands cupped her cheeks, and he brushed his thumbs under her eyes, wiping the tears away. “I love you.”

(Y/N) nodded, burying her face in his chest. “I love you too.”

Do you believe in life after love?

[citydreamgrls]

summer luvin’

fred weasley x fem! reader

words: 6,418

a/n: this is my first fic on tumblr, i’m usually on wattpad (J-myhope) but decided to move onto here for my weasley / harry potter fanfics. hope you enjoy :))) (also sorry it’s so long // i got carried away)

warnings: swearing (?) 

When I had gone home for the summer, I had promised Hermione I would write to her everyday while she was at the burrow with Ron and his family. Which I did do, but what I didn’t realise was that she would be so quick to invite me there herself. It wasn’t even a week until the invites turned into pleads, and then they were more like threats.

Ginny has gone to a camp for the month, I need you here y/n please or I swear I’ll hex all your homework next year I mean it, she had written, making me laugh at the breakfast table. Come to think of it, why was Hermione willingly spending her summer with the Weasleys and Harry?

“Something funny?” my muggle father asked over his morning newspaper, the hand with his coffee in disappearing behind its pages every few seconds.

“Just a friend from school dad,” I played it off, knowing he wouldn’t approve of me mentioning magic in his house. At least not since him and my witch mother divorced.

“I was thinking dad…” I started. He peered over the paper with a disapproving look, knowing those words meant I had a plan of some sorts. “Since you’re busy with work, maybe I could spend the next two weeks at a friends house before I go to mum’s house?”

He stayed silent, the glasses that once sat firm against his face beginning to slip down his nose. I waited in anticipation as he mulled over my offer.

“This friend. I’m guessing they’re like your mother, yes?” He spat.

“Well yes, but they’re responsible. I could get Mrs Weasley to send you a letter herself promising that I’ll be in safe hands.”

“Why must you continue that nonsense, don’t you see how it tore your mother and I apart?” He huffed, finally putting everything down on the table and focusing on me.

“It wasn’t magic that made mum leave you.” I snarled, sick of him pinning the blame on her.

“How dare you accuse me y/n. I can keep you here all summer if you insist on acting like such a child.”

“Ah yes what a great idea, keep me here to rot while you work day and night. That’s a real punishment father, at least you can do one thing right.”

“Leave then!” He bellowed, pushing away his chair and standing up.

In that second I realised I had yet to see my father in anything but a suit since I’d come home from school. He had become so enthralled in work that it had pushed away everyone he had once loved.

“Go see your silly little friends, or your mother, I couldn’t care less.”

With that he picked up his briefcase and started to open the front door. I stared as he turned back to me with a look of fear on his face, but it went as quickly as it had appeared. “Just don’t you dare come back to me when your paradise burns down.”

The door slammed behind him, but I wasn’t bothered. I could win him over, as cold hearted as he acted towards me, I always could. This wasn’t our first fight, nor would it be our last. He was just lashing out, and he would apologise in a day or two. I just had to move on from it in the meantime.

Immediately I wrote a letter to Hermione to tell her I was ‘allowed’ to come and sent it off with my little barn owl Canon. I packed my things in a hurry and sat on my case at the back door, with the realisation that I had no way to actually get to the Weasley’s burrow. An hour passed with my case still waiting for me at the door as I made endless cups of tea in nervous anticipation. While I was sipping on my fourth I heard a screech by the window. Little Canon was sat with another letter in his beak.

“Good boy” I cooed and took it from him, opening it up as I ruffled his feathers. “Quick, back in your cage in case dad comes home.” He squawked and did as he was told.

The letter was short, but told me all I needed to know.

We’ll be there at 6pm muggle time to get you, wait in the garden. Love, Mione x

I smiled and hid my case behind the shed, hoping I could sneak out without dad noticing. But of course, lady luck was not in my favour. He came home at 5, frowning at the way I sat at the kitchen table. Maybe he wondered if I had moved since he’d left that morning.

But no words were shared, and he just sauntered off to the living room.

“y/n?” Dad called out, coming down the hall. I looked up from my book.

“Yes?” he sat beside me at the table, taking a hold of my hand sincerely.

“I just wanted to apologise for this morning I was-”

“Really it’s fine dad, I’m over it.” I felt a pang of guilt, knowing that in a matter of minutes I would be leaving.

“I just don’t like the idea of leaving you with strangers, and maybe it’s because I’m not like your mother that I’m afraid of who they are. Who you’re becoming.”

I heard a whirring, sputtering in the distance.

“Please stay here y/n darling, I’ll take some time off work and we can do something nice together.” I nodded silently, causing him to smile and stand up. “I’ll go get changed then we can make some dinner yeah?”

I waited until I heard him use the stairs, the noise getting louder and louder as it got closer.

From the kitchen window a floating car came into view, reminding me that I needed to be quick if I wanted to get out before Father noticed it. I ran to put on my shoes and grab my coat. I threw it on just as he shouted down to me.

“What’s that sound y/n!”

I ignored him and headed to the back door, grabbing Canon’s cage from under the table and calling him into it from outside. He flew in and I heard the footsteps come through the house.

“Quick my dad’s coming down!” I shouted to Hermione, who was hanging out the back of the car. She took my owl’s cage as I ran to the shed for my case.

The trunk popped immediately and I chucked it in with no hesitation.

My Father appeared at the back door, frozen with shock at the sight before him. The passenger door opened behind me but I just kept my dad’s gaze as he forgot how to speak.

“I’m sorry dad I have to go,” I hurried my words, shouting over the loud engine.

A long arm stretched out behind me, pulling me inside the car as I saw my father's figure reach after me. I pulled the car door closed behind me and watched my feet.

“Go now! Please!”

My father’s eyes dropped as I went up into the air, uttering pleads to himself as he watched me go off into the distance. I didn’t dare another look back at the shell of a man I was leaving.

“Thank you,” I finally saw that it was Fred who was driving, and who had pulled me up with such ease before.

“It’s all my pleasure, I love a good getaway mission.” he smiled at me, taking his eyes off the sky to look at me a second before speeding off. Making Hermione squeal in excitement in the back.

-

Ron and Harry were waiting outside along with George to watch us land when we arrived. They waved excitedly, cheering on the shaky parking job to mess with Fred. From behind them Mr and Mrs Weasley came out, Mrs Weasley with her arms crossed shaking her head.

I held my breath as we got out, ready for her to be angry beyond all emotions. But she just pulled me into a loving hug, only letting go to slap the older boy’s head as he tried to sneak past.

“There’s no telling these boys what they can and can’t do is there y/n?” she smiled, “I’m just glad you’re here, Hermione told me all about your father dear.” She whispered as we walked inside. “Well not to worry, we have plenty to celebrate.” She announced.

“Yes, it’s Harry’s birthday on saturday so we’re having a big bonfire party for it.” Ron told me, making his best friend blush with embarrassment beside him.

“I told you it’s really fine, I don’t need you to make a big fuss over me.” Harry explained, but everyone at the table just shushed him in unison.

-

It was Monday morning when I woke up in Ginny’s empty room with Hermione, with 5 days until the party there was enough to keep us occupied. But Fred and George’s pranks didn’t help get things underway.

Obviously I knew the twins at Hogwarts, they were Ron’s family after all, but I had never spoken to them alone before. I’d never had a reason to. But now I had no choice.

Hermione was finishing up the cleaning in the kitchen, having offered to give Molly a break so she and Arthur could go for an evening walk together.

That usually meant they would be gone a good hour or so, and this meant the twins and Ron went into full mischief mode. Ron and Harry were busy trying to convince Hermione to have a drink with them that the twins had snuck from Arthur’s stash, not that he would notice (or even mind). George had already drunk too much of it and was currently laying in the field outside of his back, singing to the stars in the sky. I laughed at him from the window, alone in the sitting room, or at least I had been.

“Here, you’ll need some too.” I turned at Fred’s voice, him holding out a glass of the firewhiskey to me. I took it from him and forced back that first sip with a grimace.

“Promise me I won’t get like that?” I told him, referring to his tone-deaf lookalike in the garden.

“I’ll make sure you’re in bed before mum and dad get back,” he laughed. “Only if you help me carry that lunatic up.”

“Deal,” I laughed and drank again, this time it tasted not as searing as the first.

-

I fulfilled the promise I made by helping shove George up to his room that night, which proved a lot harder than expected.

“You never told me you were on the top floor,” I groaned, hearing the front door open and close signalling their parents’ return. “Oh fuck quick, I can’t talk to your mother when I’m drunk.”

“Haha got you! I knew you were drunk this entire time.” Fred whisper-shouted, dropping his brother in excitement. We had stayed talking most of the night, the others had snuck off somewhere leaving just the two of us to get more and more tipsy.

“Help me Fred,” I groaned, still taking the weight of George which was a lot. The blacked out boy groaned in my arms.

“Here, throw him in there. I’ll deal with it.” Fred opened his bedroom door and helped me toss his brother inside.

Then it was just the two of us on the landing, a silence having taken over the house suddenly. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he didn’t seem half as irritating as I had assumed he was when I was at Hogwarts. In fact, he was quite sweet.

“Right.” I said, startling him from his thoughts a little. “I better get to bed before your parents catch me,” I laughed lightly.

“Goodnight y/n,” He smiled, “sleep well.”

-

The next couple of days I didn’t get much of a chance to speak to Fred alone. But we all spent time together. So he was always there, as a reminder of my confusing feelings from that first full day at the burrow.

As I thought over the past week or so I was reminded of how quickly he had dragged me into the car, not risking leaving me with my father for a second longer. The way he’d been the one to join me when I was sat alone that night. Even just glances at the dinner table, everything made me wonder whether what I had seen as friendly acts were maybe more.

Or maybe I was going insane?

“What are you thinking about?” Hermione asked me as we cleaned the flying car. She’d offered to do it to say thank you for letting us stay, so I of course agreed to help.

“Oh nothing,” I laughed, hoping she would drop it.

“Come on y/n, you can’t hide anything from me. It’s so obvious that you’re distracted.”

Luckily she was interrupted by Fred and George coming outside to play a game of quidditch with Ron and Harry who were already whirring around the grounds on their brooms.

“Oh girls this really is a treat!” George shouted over, winking at Hermione who just scoffed at his teasing.

“If you look for too long it’ll cost you,” I smirked back as they passed by.

“For you? I’d take out a loan darling!” Fred shouted back, making me roll my eyes and splash the hose at both boys. They ran off to escape a water fight and I turned back to Hermione who had a suggesting look on her face.

“Oh what now?” I groaned.

“Never seen Fred act like that.” She said matter-of-factly.

“Come on, that was just him joking.”

“I’ve seen him joking. That wasn’t a joke y/n.”

“It was all playful.”

The damp girl came over to my side of the slightly cleaner car, facing the makeshift quidditch pitch and the boys playing.

“Do you want to know what I think?” She smirked again.

“You’re going to tell me anyway aren’t you?”

“I think that Fred likes you… a lot.”

“And I think that you’ve got it twisted.” I scoffed, going back to my task. Mainly to stop myself from watching the boy at hand take his top off in the scorching sun.

“You didn’t see how quickly he offered to be the one to get you in the car, god even Ron could have driven but Fred insisted it be him to go with me.” She started, but I just ignored her still. Continuing to clean the side mirrors.

“And you must see how he looks at you, he’s in love.”

“Oh shut up!” I laughed, unable to take her claims seriously.

“Even Ron’s noticed how he’s acting around you, and he’s clueless!” She had a point there.

“He’s just friendly, not to mention that he barely knows me.”

Molly came outside just in time to stop Hermione from spewing anymore nonsense about Fred. “Could either of you girls do me a favour?” She asked.

“I will.” I offered, anything to get away from my incessant best friend for a while.

“Great thanks y/n could you collect some firewood from the forest, we still need some for the bonfire.”

“No problem,” I put the sponge into the bucket of water.

“Go grab a jacket though sweetie, it’ll be colder once the sun sets.” I nodded and went to grab one from the burrow.

I passed Arthur writing an essay at the table and hurled myself up the stairs glad to have some time to myself for a while. As much as I loved the Weasley’s, it could sometimes get suffocating being with them at all hours of the day.

“Here she is,” Molly said, “Fred darling!” she shouted and I groaned internally. The boy ran over, “Go with y/n to collect firewood will you?”

“Ah you chose the strongest one didn’t you?” he joked, flexing his arms in his mother's face.

“Go put a shirt on first you fool.” she huffed and went back inside.

I stood still by the wheelbarrow left for us as Hermione came over a look of satisfaction painted across her face. She crossed her arms and laughed.

“Not a word okay,” I glared but she took my threat as being empty.

“Have fun!” she shouted after me and Fred caught up with his shirt now on.

-

I threw sticks and logs into the wheelbarrow that Fred pushed along, all the while keeping up the casual small talk. Soon the topic turned to Hogwarts.

“I guess we never did speak at school huh,” he thought out loud.

“Yeah, you’re always with George too. Hard to know someone when they’re joined at the hip with their twin.” I teased.

“Ohh so you wanted to know me?”

“You know what I meant, if someone wanted to hypothetically it would be hard to.”

“Right right,”

He wasn’t very convinced, just smiled to himself. We walked for a while, just doing what we’d come into the forest to do.

“I’ve wanted to get to know you..” he said out of nowhere, I paused slightly and hoped he didn’t notice it, “well at least since you came here.”

“Well, you haven’t been doing a bad job.” It was hard to gauge where his head was at.

On the one hand he could just be being friendly to me, want to know me as a friend and all this ‘getting to know me’ chat is purely platonic. But as much as I hated to admit it, Hermione’s words had stuck with me. What if he liked me, and she wasn’t wrong about his ‘advances’. I was pretty sure that I liked him, but only if he felt the same. It was confusing.

“We better get back, it’s already dark and the barrow’s full enough.” Fred said, turning himself around to head back. I couldn't see much, I’d left my wand back at the house in a hurry to leave and Fred’s had been left on their quidditch pitch.

I tripped over something on the ground, grazing my knee with a groan. Fred immediately let go of the wheelbarrow and took my arm. He helped me up with ease, just like he had done that day with the car. Despite the pitch black night, I could see the way his face contorted into worry. I watched him, neither of us saying anything for a moment.

“You alright?” He looked over me quickly.

“Yeah fine, thank you.” I laughed to myself, finally the embarrassment of having fallen over hitting me.

I took a step and winced, the boy beside me stopping again.

“Here,” he lifted me off the ground and placed me on top of the log pile in the wheelbarrow. “Lay back alright or you’ll fall off again clumsy.” He teased, making me feel more relaxed than before.

I had never realised how strong he really was until I felt how effortlessly he handled me.

He wheeled me back to the house slowly, being careful not to let me topple once again. The whole family crowded me when Fred had to carry me inside the kitchen in his arms, which I wasn’t complaining about. Until all the fuss started, then I insisted I’d be fine to walk.

“It’s just a graze, really it’s nothing.” Molly made me some tea and refused to let me get up until she’d cleaned up the cut on my knee and put a bandage on it. An overreaction if you asked me, but still I appreciated her concern.

Soon the others went up to bed, the plan for everyone to go to Diagon Alley in the morning so Harry could choose his presents himself. Plus it meant everyone could get a headstart on their school supplies. Much to Hermione’s delight.

It was just Molly and Fred sat with me at the kitchen table, Mrs Weasley refusing to let me sleep until she was sure I didn’t have a concussion and Fred wouldn’t let me attempt the stairs on my own.

“Really, I didn’t hit my head, did I Fred?”

“Better be safe than sorry,” Molly laughed, finally giving into the idea that I might be okay to go to bed. “I’ll stay home with you tomorrow, can’t have you limping around Diagon Alley in this state can we?”

“I’ll stay with her mum,” Fred offered, I looked over confused. Was he being nice or was he-

“No no Fred it’s fine,” Molly insisted. But her son was just as determined.

“Mum, go. You love school shopping, plus I hate it. George can just get two of whatever he gets for me.”

Mrs Weasley sighed and nodded.

“Well I suppose it would be nice to get out for a while, this place can drive you mad sometimes.” She laughed. Oh I knew. “I’m going up to bed, please don’t let her walk up Freddie.”

Her son laughed lightly but nodded still, knowing I wouldn’t be able to convince him overwise. I glared at him jokingly.

“Night mum,”

“Goodnight Mrs Weasley.”

“Call me Molly already y/n!” She said for the fifth time that day and disappeared up to bed.

“Are you tired yet?” He asked me once we were alone again. I shook my head.

“You?” The boy replied the same as I did.

“Thank you by the way,” I told him sheepishly. “I feel stupid that you have to look after me.”

“I don’t have to, I wanted to.” Fred smiled, and that’s when I realised how genuine he’d been all this time. It was the same tone and smile he had always used with me, it had been real from the start.

“Can I ask you something?” I said, holding back any fear I had of being completely wrong and just biting the bullet.

“Sure,” He sipped some firewhiskey hidden by a mug.

“Hermione said you offered to get me, when I was at my Dad’s house,”

“Yeah well she mentioned that he can be a bit aggressive and I wanted to be there in case he tried anything.”

“Right, thank you… again.” He laughed quietly, not wanting to wake anyone this late.

“Was that it?”

“Uh not really, Hermione also said… and this is probably stupid or just completely wrong.” I took a deep breath and said what I had been thinking all week. “Well I just want to know if how you act with me is because you’re a nice person.. Or whether it’s because of something more.”

He smiled down at the table.

“By something more, you mean that I like you right?” He asked.

“Uhhh yeah haha it’s silly isn’t it.”

“Not really. I didn’t want it to be overwhelming in case you felt differently.” He explained.

“Right.”

“Do you feel the same?” Fred asked me.

“I think so,” He laughed again at my response. “I mean yeah I do, it was kinda hanging in your answer really.”

-

We didn’t discuss feeling for any longer that night, just chatted for another hour about everything else in our lives. I told him about my parents, and how guilty I felt about leaving my dad regardless of how awful he could be.

Fred told me about his fear of failing. He always wanted to be the best at quidditch because he was never academically gifted, so when he would lose or not do well in a match he took it hard on himself.

It wasn’t as deep at the time, but upon reflection we’d covered some heavy stuff. All before he casually lifted me from my chair and carried me up to bed. He stopped at Ginny’s door where Hermione was sleeping inside, and smiled down at me in his arms. I blushed slightly and looked away.

“See you in the morning?” He asked.

“Only if you lift me out of bed,” I teased.

Fred quietly opened the door and placed me on Ginny’s bed, as my friend had already set up camp on the floor. The only noise in the room was her gentle snores, which made it very hard for us to refrain from laughing. The boy stood up straight and winked, mouthing goodnight and stepping over the sleeping girl on the floor and out into the hallway.

I laid back, completely content knowing that the next day could only bring further joy to this week.

-

When I woke up there was a tall ginger boy sat at the end of my bed, as he had promised, holding two mugs of tea.

“Morning darling,”

“Were you watching me sleep,” I mumbled, slowly opening my eyes. He walked round the bed and sat beside me as I propped myself up. He passed me the mug and I took a sip.

“Most definitely not,” He smirked and I put my head on his shoulder.

It all felt so natural now that Fred had made his feelings clear. I wasn’t even fazed by him carrying me down to get some breakfast. I was still tired from staying up late the night before, which he could tell by my consistent yawns.

“Wanna go back to bed?” He asked me. I nodded sleepily.

He put me in his bed, feeling weird laying next to me in his little sister’s bed.

“Plus mine is much more comfy,” The boy wasn’t wrong, it was like a little cloud of happiness.

A kiss was placed on my forehead as I drifted off, Fred’s body laying beside mine, his arm resting beneath my head, working as a cosy pillow.

I snuggled into his larger frame, enjoying the comfort having him around gave me.

-

When the others came back he woke me gently, helping me to my feet when I explained that my leg felt a lot better than it had done all day. I managed to walk, leaning most of my weight on the cautious redhead beside me.

“Y/N!” Harry and Ron had exclaimed, happy to see me back on my feet.

“You guys have fun?” I asked them.

“Yeah, look what Harry got,” Ron was acting like an excited child.

From behind the table they produced a brand new broom.

“Woah!” I widened my eyes, never being that interested in brooms but feigning excitement for them in this moment.

“We’re gonna go test it, will you watch from the window.”

“Course I will.”

They ran into the garden, the twins following close behind. Hermione came up behind me with a smile on her face. “So.. you and Fred looked very cosy just now.”

“I suppose we did,” I ignored her smirk.

“You talked to him didn’t you.” I just nodded, not wanting to give in to her. “I was right wasn’t I?” she laughed.

“Of course you were Hermione Granger, the day you’re wrong the world will stop.” I teased her as I hobbled to the window, seeing Harry whiz past the window with a shout. He narrowly missed hitting the trees as he skimmed over the forest and back towards the house in a flash.

-

Everyone helped set up the bonfire that evening, even I tried to prop logs up with my slightly injured leg. But Fred came and stopped me almost straight away, picking me up easily and placing me down on a garden chair.

“Stay.” he demanded.

“I’m not a dog!” I shouted as he returned to the bonfire making.

“Woof woof!!” He called back in protest.

-

That night we all drank ourselves silly in Harry’s honour. I’d never seen Hermione so happy, finally letting all that stress she held onto slip away as she and Ron stole some fireworks from the twins’ stash.

George of course went through the seven stages of being drunk, the scale starting at professing his love to any inanimate object that came into his possession, all the way down to staring at the stars again.

Molly and Arthur gave in first, kissing us all goodnight and stumblestumbling up to bed.  Hermione and Ron ended up having to drag Harry off to sleep not too long after, the birthday boy still singing ‘Sweet Caroline’ (his favourite muggle song) as he let us. Neither of his carers returned so I could only presume that they’d fallen asleep too.

George was still doing his sky serenading routine, insisting that he would sleep in the field once again. Fred and I left him to do his thing there while we rambled to one another drunkenly by the fire.

“Do you know something?” he had started off, “From the moment Ron introduced you to me at Hogwarts, I had been wishing he would bring you here.” His face was warm from the fire as he leant it against my own.

“You always were my favorite Weasley, Fred.” I giggled, taking the last sip from my beer.

The bonfire had started to die down and I began to shiver in the cool summer air, despite the copious amount of blankets Molly had piled onto me.

“Come on trouble, let’s get you up to bed.” Fred announced, once again lifting me as if I weighed nothing.

“What about him,” I motioned to George who was beginning to sound like Luna, praising the moon and the clouds with all the passion of an old-timey poet.

“I’ll sort him out after, don’t you worry.” His brother laughed, taking me inside.

I was left in Fred’s bed while he went down to retrieve George, the cold air still filtering through the gaps in their bedroom window. I reached up to the headboard, grabbed a jumper and pulled it on. After about 20 minutes I was beginning to warm up beneath the covers when Fred returned empty handed.

“What did you do to George?” I laughed.

“Left him on the sofa,” He scoffed, “I’m not pulling him up the stairs on my own, I might be strong. But he is a bloody lot of dead weight.” He huffed, pulling off his shirt and getting into bed with me.

“Oh so not only are you stealing my bed, but my clothes too,” He smirked, noticing the knitted jumper with a big ‘F’ on the front that I was wearing.

“I was cold.” I whined, sleepily.

“That’s okay baby.”

He couldn’t see my face, but still I tried to hide my smile. Secretly happy that we were so normal about things.

-

Another week passed by and soon we were all heading to the train station to go back to Hogwarts for another year. I piled my stuff onto the train along with Hermione, who went to save us a carriage as I said goodbye to Molly and Arthur.

“Thank you so much for letting me stay, it’s been the best summer I’ve had in years.” I beamed, hugging them both in turn.

“You’re always welcome to stay with us, no matter what y/n darling.” Molly promised. “Now you better hurry before the train leaves.”

Fred and George had rushed to see their friends as soon as we’d arrived on the platform. I had thought about going and saying hi, but decided against it. I remembered the reason that Fred and I had barely known one another before the summer.  

He had his life, and his friends. And I had mine. We were still different in that sense.

“Come on y/n!” Ron called, sticking his head out of a carriage window. Hermione was doing her best to pull him back inside, but he insisted on making faces to his father.

I jumped on and walked down the hall, turning to open the sliding door when a flash of red hair caught my eye. I stopped and looked, seeing George push his brother into a carriage with a laugh. Like that they were gone.

-

I didn’t get to see Fred properly until 6 days into the new term. He had been busy with quidditch, and I helped Hermione study. Despite the fact that we had months until the first lot of exams.

Everyone else had gone to the great hall for dinner, but I had skipped it, telling the others that I needed to get some leftover summer homework done. Really I just needed a moment to relax. I went out to the courtyard and stood on the bridge, looking down at the dark lake below. I wondered why Fred hadn’t tried to talk to me at all, it wasn’t like I was really his girlfriend. But it just confused me.

Back at the burrow he hated being away from me, groaned about how horrible it would be once school started again. Yet there had been no sign of him at all, almost as if he’d disappeared entirely. Not even Ron had seen either of his brothers.

The nightly wind howled lightly and I was thrown to the ground by a flash of light and something hitting me quite hard. I closed my eyes, not daring to open them until a voice spoke above me.

“Oh finally.” I recognised Fred, immediately pushing him off me and jumping up.

“What the hell!” I shouted. “How did you- what? WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?” I shouted in shock.

The redhead rubbed his neck sheepishly, shoving something into his pocket quickly.

“What are you hiding?” I asked him.

“I just wanted to surprise you,” He laughed nervously, blatantly lying. Which was odd, because usually I could never tell.

“What’s up with you, I haven’t seen you at all since we came back. Where the hell have you and George been!” I was starting to get annoyed as he stood there waiting for me to finish.

Then there was another flash, I jumped back just in time to see George falling to the ground out of thin air. He groaned and kicked his brother’s leg.

“You git!” He called up to him, “You were supposed to come back for me.”

“Someone needs to explain what’s going on RIGHT NOW!” I shouted, startling George who hadn’t seen me behind him.

“Oh hi y/n, i’ll leave that to Freddie here. It was his idea after all.” He glared at his twin before stumbling off, clutching his head.

“Tell me everything right now Fred,” I demanded.

“Well George and I stole something from Hermione, and we were just testing it out you know. Then we sort of lost it, and couldn’t get back to Hogwarts.”

“What do you mean you couldn’t get back,” I frowned.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a golden ball, attached to a chain, a small circle surrounding it’s charm.

“Come here,” I stepped closer, still unsure about his story. He wrapped the long chain around my neck and then his, forcing us to stand close to one another. I’d missed him in the past week or so, and being close to him made me feel like I had no worries. Just like the warmth of summer had felt.

His long fingers held the ball and he lifted it up to show me as he spun the circle around it.

I watched it turn over and over as if it had a life of its own, Fred’s voice distracted me from its trance.

“y/n, look.” I watched his face and he laughed. “See,”

The sky was bright, not like the moonlight I'd been beneath back at the castle. Then I noticed the burrow, and the forest and I could hear the voices of Ron and Harry debating something from inside the house.

“What- how did we? What is that thing?” I asked Fred.

But he didn’t answer me right then, he just took my hand and ran into the forest, pushing me behind a tree and ducking.

“It’s a time turner, means we can travel back in time to events we were a part of.” He whispered.

“Why are we hiding?” I whispered back.

“You’ll see.”

Just as he uttered those words, two girls came out of the burrow and headed to the flying car that was covered in mud. It was me and Hermione, ready to wash the car for the Weasley’s.

“How am I here and there, how is this possible. There’s two of me.” He chuckled at my hushed shock.

“What’s Hermione saying?” He asked.

“She’s trying to convince me that you fancy me.” I laughed quietly.

“Did it work?”

“Then? No way.”

I watched the two redheaded twins come out and flirt exactly as they had done that day, then Molly came out right on cue, asking me to go into the forest for wood.

“We need to go.” I told him. “We’ll be coming out here soon.”

He nodded, wrapping the chain around me.

“Wait, look.” He whispered pointing to another part of the forest and ducking further down beneath a nearby bush. There was yet another version of Fred hidden by the trees watching himself flirt with me.

“I came here with George before, this is when I got stuck. I stayed to watch us in the woods and George went to play a prank on himself, he lost the time turner and I nearly left him behind. Plus so much time had passed since I’d left that I couldn’t just go back to the start of term. I honestly tried to.”

“But how did George get back if you had it?”

“I must ask him when we’re at hogwarts. It's very impressive.” Then he spun the ring once again, and in a single flash we were back on the bridge where we had left moments before.

“Why did you go back?” I asked him.

“I felt bad, I wanted things to be like they had been with us at the burrow. But I’d gotten so caught up with my friends that I never even got a chance to talk to you before we got on the train.”

“So you went back weeks?”

“I wanted to relive those memories too, wouldn’t you?” He asked.

“I’d rather make new ones with you, here.”

“I’m sorry y/n, you’re right.”

“It’s sweet though.” I blushed, nudging his side.

Fred led me inside, all the way to the great hall where dinner was still going on. We passed Ron, Harry and Hermione, whose jaw dropped seeing Fred and I together at school.

“Guys, this is y/n. My girlfriend.” Fred introduced me to his friends all gathered at the other end of the Gryffindor table with a proud smile across his face, his hand linked into mine tightly.

[tmae3114]

IT MAY HAVE GONE MIDNIGHT MY TIME BUT IT’S STILL HERO APPRECIATION DAY IN SOME TIMEZONE AND THEREFORE YOU GET THIS FIC I HAVE FINALLY FINISHED AFTER WORKING ON IT FOR A WHILE ON THE BEST DAY FOR POSTING IT

The position of this in the Book 3 timeline is ~nebulous~ but it’s sometime after the hero sees Warlic again for the first and before Warlic and Alexander started working together

trust in me (and I’ll trust you too)

For a moment, the words refuse to make sense. He knows what everything she just said means individually but those words put together in that order don’t make a coherent concept. Only for a moment. All too soon, clarity crashes on him like icy water down his spine.

“…you’re here to invite me to a party?”

Or: a hero and a mage have a conversation, trauma sucks, and actual age differences mean nothing in the face of Big Sister Instincts™

[AO3]

-

There is, for some yet-to-be-determined reason, an adventurer asleep on his couch.

Warlic pauses mid-step to contemplate this fact for a few moments, then realises that the cup of tea he forgot in the kitchen is going to keep going cold if he doesn’t return to hurrying to fetch it.

One severe disappointment in the form of a stone cold cup of tea and the necessary subsequent brewing of a replacement later, there continues to be an adventurer asleep on his couch. In full armour, no less. Even after all these years, he is no closer to understanding how that can possibly be comfortable, for all it never seems to bother her.

He sips his tea contemplatively, then clears his throat pointedly.

That prompts a stirring. Ro blinks up at him, looking for all the world like there is no reason at all to question her napping on his couch. She yawns widely, her jaw audibly popping, and stretches languidly in a very catlike way.

Then, in a movement that is all seal, she twists and flops sideways off of the couch.

“Hi, Warlic,” she greets from the floor, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Hello, Ro,” he replies, taking another sip of his tea. “I assume that Cysero let you in?”

“Mmhmm.”

There is no elaboration on that. She seems perfectly content to simply lie on the floor and wait for him to say or do something else.

He drinks more of his tea.

She tilts her head slightly.

His sigh is fonder than he’d care to admit.

“Not that I’m unhappy to see you,” he says, arching his visible eyebrow “But are you here for a reason?”

She clicks her tongue and twists in a way that is probably supposed to help her get upright but more strongly resembles a seal in the banana pose than anything else.

“I needed a nap and your tower is always so nice and quiet,” she says, voice cheerful and dry.

In the distance, something – hopefully on Cysero’s side of the tower – explodes.

Ro giggle-snorts as she leverages herself upright using the arm of the couch she rolled off of.

“Aye, awright, point taken!” she calls in the general direction of the explosion.

“A social visit, then?” Warlic prompts, hiding his smile behind the rim of his teacup. “You usually give advance warning for those.”

“Ehhh,” Ro replies, making a wobbly see-saw motion with one hand, halfway sitting on the arm of the couch now “Social with a purpose?”

“Do tell.”

“Artix is wanting to dae a thing,” she says, twirling one hand in a circle as though to encompass the incredibly vague concept of ‘a thing’ “Away out at the keep? Hanging out and having a meal and stuff, ‘cept he doesnae know who’ll be up for it. I-” here, she makes an overly dramatic gesture to herself, the fingers of one hand splayed over her heart “-volunteered tae come see if you lot-” a wide sweeping gesture, clearly meant to encompass the tower and its inhabitants “-were free and when, seeing as I’m popping ‘round t’see Cysero aw the time anyways,”

For a moment, the words refuse to make sense. He knows what everything she just said means individually but those words put together in that order don’t make a coherent concept. Only for a moment. All too soon, clarity crashes on him like icy water down his spine.

“…you’re here to invite me to a party?”

“I mean…” Ro leans back, one arm braced against the back, one ankle loosely slung over the other, casual and so, so at ease “Less a party and more just dinner wi’ friends but aye, thereabouts.”

Are you mad?

The words stick in his throat. His stomach twists painfully. Just as he vaguely begins to hope that it isn’t showing outwardly, that he’ll be able to excuse himself quickly and without a fuss, his tea betrays him by sloshing loudly over the side of the cup.

Ro is by his side in an instant, one hand whisking the cup away from him and the other winding around his back to support him by the opposite elbow, gently but firmly steering him to the couch. He is vaguely aware of a quiet narrative litany – “Woah, ‘kay, c’mere, let’s just-” – accompanying these actions, then he blinks and is sitting with his hands clasped in his lap, knuckles white and chest tight. He blinks again, once, twice, staring down at his hands, then up to look at the adventurer sitting at his side. The way that she meets and holds eye contact with him for a few moments more than gives away the worry lurking underneath the calm on her face. His cup of tea is no longer in her hands. A quick glance reveals it to be set down on a coaster on a side table.

“So,” Ro says, pulling his attention back to her “That was a reaction.”

The noise he makes in response to that is somewhere between a snort and a gasp.

“Do you realise,” he asks, voice trembling despite his best efforts “how dangerous what you suggested is?”

She leans a bit closer and rests one of her hands over his clasped ones. The cool metal of her gauntlet is almost grounding.

“It’s not,” she says. Just like the way she guided him to sit, her voice is both gentle and firm. Kind but unyielding. It’s the voice she uses for Heroics.

“It is, how can you not-”

“Ah, of course, silly me,” she interrupts, voice now completely flat. “How could I not have foreseen the incredible danger inherent in you leaving this tower for a few hours to spend some time with your friends. You’re right, that’s an absolutely mental idea. Whatever was I thinking.”

His breath shudders. A distant part of him notes that she seems to have switched from the casual mix of Common and her native tongue she favours in the company of friends to the – as she puts it, with air quotes, rolled eyes, and disdain – “more proper” Greenguardian dialect of Common that she uses for everything from strangers to snotty nobles; the one she uses to ensure she’ll be understood, for better or for worse. She almost certainly doesn’t realise that she’s done it. That distant part of him aches.

He takes another hitching breath.

“I don’t appreciate the sarcasm.”

“You weren’t supposed to.”

She sighs and shifts to face him more fully, tucking one leg up underneath herself as she sits sideways, and moving her other hand so that both of hers are covering both of his. It helps stop the shaking, a little bit.

“You’re scared. I get it. You’ve told me it wasn’t safe for you to leave before and I believe you. But it’s been years now, Warlic, and if it’s safe for me to come here, why isn’t it safe for you to leave, just for a little bit?”

Because it’s different. Because he could lose control at any moment but maybe here it could be contained. Because it’s his fault, all of it, Alex and Jaania and the Rose and-

Because that monster was a part of him, is inside of him still, and what if I-

Because-

“-I’m dangerous.”

Ah.

Oops.

The look that she gives him somehow manages to be drier than the Sandsea and utterly sympathetic at the same time. He has a feeling that he knows what she’s going to say next, can practically already hear it – So am I. We’re all dangerous, it comes with the territory.

He can see it in her face, begins preparing his counterargument.

“You’re not a threat, Warlic.”

Crystallised disbelief is, apparently, a noise and his vocal cords are capable of making it.

“You’re not.” She squeezes his hands. “You’re in control. You’re not Wargoth-” He flinches at the name, the one he’s only heard in his own thoughts for some time now “-and you’re in control. You are exactly as dangerous as you choose to be and not a whit more and I think I know you well enough to say that that amount is minimal.”

“You didn’t see,” he replies, quietly, staring past her head to trace the grain of the wooden beams in the wall behind her with his eyes “What it was like in the early days. What I was like when I was only just recovering.”

It’s a statement, not an accusation. They both know she would have been there, given the remotest choice. They both know she couldn’t be there. They both know why and who is to blame for it.

She flinches anyways.

It’s the Wargoth in him, Warlic thinks, that makes him be so cruel to a friend who is only trying to help.

Ro breaths in, holds it for a few seconds, then breathes out. She flexes her fingers where they rest across his clasped hands. The motion draws his focus back from the wall just in time to see something in her eyes go firm.

“Right,” she says, with the air of a decision made. “Palms up, in your lap.”

Before he can respond to that non-sequitur, she has swiftly, methodically, somehow still gently, pried his interlocking fingers apart and arranged his hands so that they are resting in his lap, one arm to a leg, palms up. He twitches his fingers a little, wincing at the stiffness in his knuckles after clasping them so tightly for so long.

“Now, close your eyes.”

“Ro, I-”

“Wheesht and dae it, Warlic.”

He closes his eyes.

There are several long moments filled with the sound of rummaging and rustling. She grumbles under her breath a couple of times – at one point, he hears a distinct “why do I even have that?” – and then makes a distinctly satisfied rumble that would be much more suited to her seal vocal cords than her human ones.

A beat after that, something heavy and so very soft is settled into his arms.

“’kay, you can open your eyes now.”

He doesn’t want to. His heart is pounding so wildly he half wonders if it’s visible from the outside. A part of him is desperately hoping that she’s just handed him a blanket, some sentimental symbol of comfort she hopes to share, maybe even something with childhood importance. Something, anything, like that.

The rest of him knows better.

Definitely not a blanket.

The noise he makes isn’t so much a vocalisation of her name as it is a plaintive cry made of vaguely similar sounds. His eyes snap to her in panic and-

-she’s smiling. He can tell not just by the way the outer corners of her eyes have tilted up but by the way he can just barely see her teeth because her mask is pooled around her neck and she’s smiling and she looks absolutely, utterly at ease and-

-and her sealskin is in his hands.

“I trust you,” she says, as thought that isn’t a completely redundant thing to say, as though she hasn’t just made herself impossibly vulnerable, hasn’t just- “I trust you, Warlic. Even if you can’t trust yourself right now, can you trust me? Trust my faith in you?”

The sealskin in his lap is thick and soft and warm. He’s bunched his hands in it, pulled his arms in a bit to hold it closer, without even realising he was doing so and he can’t quite convince himself to let go. He’s never seen it close enough to realise just how much the white-on-blue markings look like clouds before.

His heart pounds and his mind races. There are a million and one things that a mage of his strength and knowledge could do with a selkie’s coat and almost none of them are good. I trust you she says but how can she be anything but terrified in this moment, this moment where she has all but put herself into the worst horror stories of her people, how could she just hand this to him-

Wargoth enslaved people. He’d stolen them from themselves, reached in to grab the fire in their souls and twisted to chain them to his will, to turn them into puppets in his hands-

-and his friend has just unhesitatingly handed him the power to do it again. To do it to her.

“Warlic, hey, Warlic, look at me.”

Her hand is on his shoulder now and he turns to look, a million repetitions of the same question on his tongue – how can you…- and then she stands up.

She stands up and takes one step backwards.

A second.

A third.

She stops there, three paces away, smiling all the while.

“I trust you,” she repeats for the third time.

As his vision first blurs, then swims, Warlic finds himself thinking it’s a good thing that selkies live in the sea, it would be incredibly rude of me to give her coat water stains after a gesture like that. He takes one breath, then two, and then lets go.

Warlic bawls like a baby.

Ro returns to the couch, sitting close enough that their legs are pressed together, and starts rubbing circles on his back, between his shoulder blades.

It should feel ridiculous, with how much younger than him she is. He remembers when she had to look up just to look him in the face while he tried to convince her to take a nap, assuring her that the world wouldn’t end when she wasn’t looking if she took some time to rest. She’s grown a lot since then, he knows, but the number of years is such a drop in the ocean of those he’s lived that it feels like she must have barely aged at all. And yet, somehow, the rhythm of her comforting him as though he’s the child in the room doesn’t feel out of place at all. It just feels…

…safe.

Inevitably, he runs out of tears to cry. Ro wordlessly passes him a tissue to blow his nose, then another to wipe his eyes. He has no idea where she got them from, as there aren’t any nearby. He can’t remember the last time he cried like that. It feels… good, in a way, to have let it out.

When his breathing settles into a more sedate pace, Ro pats him on the shoulder.

“It’s okay to be scared, Warlic,” she says, voice quiet “You know that I know what it’s like to be scared of yourself. I get it. Just… don’t go letting your fear control you, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out “Yeah, okay.”

She shuffles aside a bit, giving him some space, but makes no movement to take her coat back. Not even an aborted grasp towards it, though he can see a line of tension beginning to form in her shoulders that she is clearly fighting.

…oh.

Oh. Of course. Trust. The whole point is trust.

He gathers her coat up in his arms, allowing himself just a moment to appreciate all that just being allowed to touch it would represent, let alone having the entire thing dropped in his lap, and passes it over to her.

“Thanks,” she says as she takes it from him, as though this is in any way a casual exchange. She slings it up and over her shoulders, settling it against her neck where the fur will rest against the few uncovered parts of her skin.

He nods, not entirely trusting his voice.

They sit in silence for a few moments and then she tilts her head to the side.

“So,” she says, drawing the vowel out, deliberately light-hearted, testing the waters “Artix’s thing?”

He thinks it over for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. Considers all of his reasons for saying no; considers the possibilities for saying yes. Thinks about keeping himself locked away where it’s safe; thinks about spending time with people again.

He takes a deep breath in, feels his lungs expand. He thinks about a time when, despite everything, he had trusted himself. Even if you can’t trust yourself right now, can you trust me? He breathes out.

He knows his answer.

“No,” he says, letting the syllable hang in the air for just a moment before turning to face Ro with a small smile “But tell him… maybe next time.”

[palettepainter]

I’ve got post vaccine (moderna gang) shivers so I need to express fluff headcanons to spread good vibes

When Ecto was planning to propose, he had to keep it so hush hush because Higari can easily find things out. He didn’t tell anyone but higaris mother and his own parents. He was very happy that Higari was actually surprised with the proposal. Higari wears the rings on a necklace- his quirk doesn’t exactly make wedding rings easy to find.

As much as Higari prefers being a support hero, search and rescue jobs that go smoothly it’s very rewarding. He often checks up on those he’s managed to rescue, keeps in touch with some too. There’s this lovely older woman who he rescued from a crumbling retirement home who sends him baked goods every holiday. He visits her every month for tea.

When Ecto is sick, Higari cares for him easily. Even when Ecto acts like he isn’t sick. He’ll make him soup, make sure he’s resting, cold compress on his forehead. As stubborn as he is, ecto appreciates it.

Higaris favorite memory with his dad is digging around in the yard with him. Since they had the same quirks, it worked out. He showed him how to carve tunnels without the ground crumbling, or just played around in the dirt. There’s a picture of Higari when he was three, covered in dirt with his head peaking out of a hole. His dad was grinning, sitting near by like he was cheering him on. Sometimes, especially on days where thinking about his dad is hard, he’ll tell Ecto stories.

As someone who also got shivers after getting a vaccine I know the feeling, how you’re doing well!

Ecto proposing, Yes! I love the idea of Ecto proposing to Higari, and his rugged flirting smirking self just crumbles in the face of Ecto holding a ring to him. Ecto’s eyes are so full of love and he has such a soft grin on his face that Higari can’t help but tearing up, he tries to think of something flirty to say back, but he just can’t. He’s overwhelmed - probably ended up tackling Ecto in a hug with a big kiss, which threw Ecto off guard, thinking at first maybe he’d overwhelmed Higari when he started crying.

Higari wearing is around his neck, also yes. Higari’s wedding ring is the only thing that he will spend careful hours cleaning and polishing at the end of each day to make sure it stays in good condition, wears is around UA proudly - though I imagine for interviews outside of UA or when he’s called out for hero work he leaves it at home in a special box on his dresser or safely tucks it away in a drawer in the design studio, as much as he loves wearing the rink around his neck he dreads the thought of loosing it in a rescue, or having some nosy reports pester him for answers if they catch sight of it. 

With Higari’s gear I’m a firm believer he’d be a great rescue hero in say like natural disasters or if a building collapsed. With his giant robotic suit and his know how on construction he could easily map a safe route to evacuate citizens from an unstable building, or quickly find a way to clean up after a land slide. Need to move a giant tree? No problem he’ll move it no prob. Citizen can’t move because they’re leg hurts? He can carry em out to safety. Kids they rescued are bored while they’re waiting for parents to pick them up? Higari tolerates them clambering about on his hero suit like it’s a jungle gym

Anything with Higari caring for Ecto or vise versa is so wholesome! In my NGAU I imagine Higari prolly knows all the tricks to help when someone is sick, he grew up in a big house with tones of little siblings, as kids they got sick a lot with how often they played in the garden and mud, they’ve all got very strong immune systems so it’s rare Higari or his siblings get sick - but Higari still knows all the tricks to help nursing someone back to health. He remembers to give Ecto some medicine, make him some soup, hot water bottle if he’d cold, flannel if he’s too hot and plenty of liquids. A teenie tiny part of Ecto might even enjoy all the attention, appreciating Higari’s concern. Too bad Higari is too stubborn to actually treat himself when he’s sick, with how little he gets sick he doesn’t take it all that seriously - thankfully Ecto is a patient man with many clones, so is willing to drag Higari back to bed if needed XD

And the last one with his dad...

Anon: Are you trying to make me cry-

In my NGAU Powerloader’s dad was all over him, spoiled Higari so so much. Spent many lazy afternoons slacking off work when the missus wasn’t looking to play around with Higari (bragged for like a week straight that he got his quirk, proud dad moment). Higari’s mother came out into the garden to see how the boys where doing, she finds her husband and toddler son covered head to toe in dirt and mud. She gets angry at them, insisting the two need a bath if they want to have dinner. Toddler Higari hated baths from the day he was born apparently, and it’s only until dear old papa gives him a bath is he willing to get clean. His dad puts bubbles in Higari’s hair, and Higari splashes bubbles onto his dads beard, who then makes a silly face to make Higari laugh. Too bad only one hour after tea the two got dirty again-

The first time Higari used his quirk was when he was outside with his dad. His dad was working on fixing up the shed, Higari sitting in a small play pen outside with some toys while his dad stood close by, able to work while also keeping an eye on Higari. Higari, bored of playing with his building blocks, begins to drag his little hands at the ground, and before he knows it he’s tunneling his way to freedome beyond the bounds of his baby playpen. This kind of scneario probably ensued:

Kaigo (PL’s dad): Phew *picks up tool box and turns around* Alright sweetpea, time to go back insi- *freezes when he sees the playpen is empty, and no baby in sight* W-WHAT?! *drops tool box, and rapidly looks around* Uh- H-Higari?! Sweetpea?! Where’d you go?? Come to dad, this isn’t funny! *rushes around a bit*

Higari: *tunnles his way up to the surface in his mothers flowerbed, a small pile of dirt with a flower sticking out the top sitting on his head*

Kaigo: *searching in the bushes* H-Higari?! Higari! Where are you?! *mumbles* Shit I took my eyes off him for two minutes! Where the hell could he-

Higari: BAPA!

Kaigo: *jumps and whirls around*..*heaves and sigh and rushes over* Oh thank god! *scoops him into his arms for a hug* You stupid lil’ ankle biter! Don’t you ever do that again! *holds him out at arms length* How in the world did you even get out??

Higari: *sneezes from the dirt, making the flower fall off his head*

Kaigo:..Wait. Did..D-Did you, DIG your way out?!

Higari: *incoherent baby noises*

Kaigo;...Ooooh you are in SO much trouble young man, you know how many years off my life you just took? Huh?...*scowls as Higari giggles* Oh so you think this is FUNNY?-

Higari: *grabs his nose* BA!

Kaigo:............*sighs* You’re damn lucky you’re cute, you know that?...Uh, how about we DON’T tell your Ma about this, okay?

Ever since then his dad had to watch him like a hawk, one minute Higari was sitting playing with his toys, the next he was trying to dig his way to the other side of the world. When he was old enough his dad did give him some lessons in how to dig safely so the ground wouldn’t become unstable. I imagine Higari may have madea  few tunnels as a kid that where too close to the surface, and his very unsuspecting mum and dad would just sink into the ground collapsing an old tunnel Higari made. And Higari having pictures?? YES. His mum probably has a whole stash of pictures of Higari as a baby playing outside with his dad and her. Including the embarrassing photos, the kind of photos Higari would never want Ecto to see, but his mum showed him anyway. 

Now I wanna write angst with Powerloader and his dad aaaaa-

[lunnamars]

prompt for luffy/nami: maps

Am I super late? Yes, of course. I think I received this ask in...June? May? I don't remember, so I apologize from the bottom of my heart, dear anon, but I was going mad with deadlines and I'm still going through a writing block, so I really hope you like it! I swear I did my best. <3 

You can read this on AO3 too!

map of the problematique

The day was almost ending, the sky burning with the sunset, and Nami still had a pencil in her hand, scribbling lines and forms on a once empty paper. Other supplies scattered across the table, along with the quietness of the library, helped her finish another map successfully.

Being able to see the piece of work coming to life filled Nami's chest with pride and joy; there wasn't a clear explanation to what she felt every time.

She took a deep breath and tried to rest her sight — looking intently at one thing for an extended period always gave her a headache, even if it was her beloved maps or tangerines. Robin was there with her too, but her silence was welcoming and contrasted so much with the usual ruckus of the ship. Nami rested her face on her right hand, admiring the neatly drawn shapes and lines, how her scale was correctly measured, she double-checked, and the vivid colors on the paper. She ran her free hand over the map with fondness, a soft smile on her face while thanking the heavens for being free to do what she liked; what she was meant to do.

Sometimes, Nami wondered how her life would have been like if she had never met Luffy. Where would she be now? Still with shackles on her feet, bound to Arlong? Stealing, risking her life, suffocating more and more?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on the door and the voice of her captain, "Oi, Nami, are you there? Can I come in?"

Robin chuckled and stood up, walking in the direction of the door to let the firecracker of a man get in. She opened the door and smiled at him, saying with the calm voice of usual, "Hello, Luffy. Can we help you with anything?"

"Hey, Robin, didn't know you were here. Can I stay here with you two?" he asked with his never-ending energy. 

Hmph, always brighter than the sun, Nami thought.

"Why, of course. But I was already on my way out. Nami is still staying for a while. Want to keep her company?" Robin asked and looked over her shoulder to the navigator, winking at her.. Nami narrowed her eyes and pouted, catching on the implicit invitation behind her words. 

Why must Robin be so damn smart? For fuck's sake. 

Luffy had no idea of what had just transpired between the girls and happily added, "Sure! Bye, Robin!"

The archeologist softly grinned and sprouted two hands, patting their heads and bidding them goodbye. Nami heard Luffy's chuckle before the door clicking shut and right after, the sound of his flip-flops across the floor. She felt his breathing on her neck and couldn't help the shiver that ran down her spine, her heart starting to beat at an alarming pace in the blink of an eye.

He rested his head on hers and asked, cheerful and beaming as a goddamn sunflower, "Hey Nami! Can I see your maps?"

She knew she couldn't be the sun like him, especially not after the trick he played on her the day before so she grunted, "No."

"C'mon, Nami! Lemme!" Luffy whined like a spoiled brat, entangling his rubber arms around her neck. Took a shower and smelling nice, aren't you?

Nami sighed and crossed her arms, fighting the urge to look in his direction and forcing her heartbeat to stabilize. Damn him and his damned carefree laugh. She snorted, "Luffy, what are you doing here? Don't you have anything else to do?"

"Sheesh, Nami! You're mean! If you don't want me here then just tell me." He let a deep breath and she could feel him pouting. Luffy was still holding her when he spoke again, voice low, "You have been away for almost the whole day, Nami. I was just worried."

"Of course I was, you moron! Have you forgotten what you did yesterday? You almost fucked up the maps that took me almost two weeks to finish!" How easy it was for him to stir her up and make her angry. Luffy was amazing but sometimes he acted like a child, something that always drove her mad.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry!" He held her tight so she wouldn't escape but careful enough to not strangle her. A great show of controlled strength. She tried to disentangle herself from his embrace, but that only made him encircle his legs around her torso now. Acting like a child again, wanting the adult to forgive him at all costs. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to! I swear I'll… I swear I'll… I swear I'll eat vegetables for a week, and I won't complain!"

His plea seemed sincere, but the idea that he was bargaining a thing that should be on his menu on a daily basis, instead of the huge chunks of meat he thinks is the only necessary thing to make him survive, baffled her. Then, it came in fits and bursts. One snort, then a second, the third was already mixed with laughter, and in the end, Nami was laughing at her heart's content.

He followed her, chuckling slowly and grinning warmly, then his candy-coated laugh that always melted her heart finally reached her ears. They laughed until their ribs hurt. Luffy's occasional child behavior would always provoke two reactions in her: complete anger or complete amusement. Sometimes both.

"Okay, okay. I'm fine, you silly goose. Thanks for apologizing." Nami patted his head, finally having the courage to look into his owlish eyes. His grin became bashful when their eyes met, but he stayed wrapped around her. She pinched his nose lightly and said in a loving voice, "C'mon, let me go. You must be feeling uncomfortable holding me like that, with the chair between us."

Luffy instantly released her, the characteristic sound of his arms and legs retracting echoing in her ears before grabbing another chair and sitting beside her. Her anger towards him long forgotten Nami decided to get back to work. Sometimes it was complicated to get things done when the captain was around but there were times where Luffy would seek her for silence.

The boy from two years ago wasn't like that. But the man he was now valued quiet and peaceful times as well. He was often watching the sunset, humming some song sitting on top of the Sunny's figurehead. Sometimes he was even lost in thought.

He rested his head on her shoulder, watching her pencil carefully slide across a new blank paper, firm and precise black lines appearing. Luffy's silence and steady breathing allowed Nami to enter her focused mode once again.

“Whaddya wanna do after you finish the map of the world?” Her captain spoke again after a while, voice a bit rough from disuse and a bit husky, something she hasn’t gotten used to yet and still has no idea how to deal with. It made her hand falter, the perfect line broken now, and a vein popped on her forehead. 

Nami took a deep breath, picking up the pencil and sharpening it before answering him, "I… Don't know?"

"Wanna go back to your village?" Luffy asked, apparently not paying attention to the way her concentration was interrupted. 

She looked down at his face resting on her shoulder, meeting his eyes and responding warily, "I still haven’t thought about it, Luffy. We still have a long way to go before all of our goals are achieved."

Nami heard his agreement in the form of an "Mm-hmm,” and they both fell silent again. It was completely dark outside now, and the lights of the library had turned on automatically. The navigator decided to call it a day and give some attention to her friend, waiting patiently for her. Waiting was not precisely the right word since she could hear soft snores, but he stayed there, by her side trying not to bother her, but wanting a bit of her presence.

She put away the new map with the others, organized her drawing supplies and putting them away in the drawer below her dedicated desk in the library. Nami rested her hand on her now empty desk, drumming her fingers following the rhythm of the happy-go-lucky songs coming to life through Brook’s violin and thinking about what she could do right now with the moron glued to her side. 

A stolen glance at his peaceful face was all she needed to make her forget any of her worries. The face of someone who's half  boy and half  man, who has kindness in every movement and was able to see right through people. A beautiful soul able to connect with anyone's soul. Her best friend and the boyish man she loves, a person who lived his life to its fullest. Always wanting people around to do the same.

Nami scooped him in her arms — he always became a bit lighter when sleeping — and nestled him to her chest when she settled them down on the couch next to the window. The motion woke him up, but he only curled more against her. The red head rested her chin on his head and mumbled softly, "And you? What do you wanna do after becoming the Pirate King, Luffy?"

"Keep traveling, I guess." He answered and shrugged, voice still hoarse, now from sleeping. 

Nami knew that was an answer that suited him. The freest man in the world would like to keep traveling, learning new things, and meeting new people. She just nodded as he started to play with a thread of her hair before asking, absentminded, "Do you think you'll finish the map of the world before I become Pirate King, Nami?"

"Honestly, I don't think so. The world is huge, and the sea is vast. It will take me a long while, I guess."

It was true. Nami would probably be one of the last to achieve her dream. Not that she minded, no. If the Pirate King wanted to keep traveling then she would continue being his navigator for however long he needed. Eventually she'd finish her map, and his promises to her would be fulfilled.

"Good. That means you'll stay," Luffy replied quietly.

She chuckled and watched him wrap a thread of her hair around his finger, "Are you still so dependent on your navigator, Captain? I can make you a copy of my maps."

"It's not that!" Luffy turned around fast, almost headbutting her, his face closer than before. She meant to scold him, she really did. But the way he was looking at her, with pleading eyes and some emotion behind it she couldn't quite put her finger on it forced her to shut up. Was he truly afraid of being left alone? Did he think they'd separate again?

But there it was once more, the fuzzy feeling every time she was the focus of his undivided attention. The mysterious warmth that enveloped her when he was that close, when she was caught off guard. Although she knew there was no mystery there, she knew the reason behind the phenomenon, definitely knew how to spell the word that explained it all. 

It had been easy falling for that mess of a man, there was no one in the word that was immune to Luffy's charm. The man had the whole world in his hands, always captivating people everywhere he went with his simplicity. But admitting that… Admitting that had been hard.

And there wasn't a time where Nami didn't have to fight the urge of finally reaching, of finally closing the gap. Maybe I can do it today?

"Then what is it, Captain?" she leaned in, her lips almost brushing against his and let herself hope he wouldn't push her away.

Luffy stared at her lips, her eyes, and then her lips again. 

She wondered if Luffy had ever kissed anyone. And if he did, how would he kiss? How would it feel— her lips on his? Would it be like kissing a rubber? That’d definitely be weird. Would she find out today? Why couldn’t she close the gap? 

Afraid. You’re afraid this would change everything.

And losing Luffy would be like a nightmare. It would be suffocating the same way she felt when working on her maps for Arlong in that lonely room.

But Luffy had another idea in mind. There was almost no one as straightforward as him and he made the decision for her. 

Oh.

It felt like rubber and she finally satiated her curiosity, but for some reason it wasn’t weird. It was a simple peck on her lips, gentle and chaste. Maybe that answered her question, maybe he hasn’t kissed anyone yet and her heart soared as she thought she might be the first one, feeling like a little girl again. 

He indeed had the world and her heart in his hands.

Luffy moved away a bit, his owlish eyes piercing hers, studying her reaction. It had been so quick, so fleeting, but her lips tingled. And that was so unfair because she wanted more but had no idea if she could ask for it. She was a greedy witch, but this was way more dangerous than money and bets. 

But then he dived in again, this time with a hand on her neck and the other on her hip, squeezing and making her open her mouth in protest. She felt the tip of his tongue and felt his hesitation. He was unsure of what to do despite his initiative. It was sweet and endearing, but she remembered how greedy she was. And Luffy was her treasure much like her gold and maps.

Hands tangling in the hair on the back of his neck, the growl he let out making her pull him closer, as much closer they could be. Her tongue brushed against his and it’s really all downhill from there. 

When she broke the kiss, who knows how much time later, she looked at him, trying to make him see that she wanted to know the answer to her question.

His big toothy smile told her he was about to assure her everything was okay, but he actually didn’t need to. Everything was always okay when he was around, even with his shenanigans, even after he almost destroyed two weeks’ worth of work.

""It's not about the maps! I just don't wanna sail without you, Nami!"

[boxoftheskyking]

Something Good, Part Eleven

Things I don’t know about include medicine and plants. Thanks Google.

Sorry to Lan Qiren’s reputation I guess I need him to be a dick.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten

---

After morning lessons, the children are taken to the infirmary. They file in, a little row kneeling and a row standing in a half-circle around the bench where Wen Qing stands, holding onto a mortar and pestle like her life depends on it. From his position in the corner, Wei Wuxian gives her a bright encouraging smile. Lan Wangji sweeps in and joins Wen Qing at the front, giving the children his typical not-smile—it strikes Wei Wuxian suddenly that this particular warmth in his face, a loosening of tension around his eyes, maybe, his mouth still neutral but not so set, is something that only comes out around the children. Lan Wangji, he’s starting to realize, exists in the space between things. Not warm, not really, but not entirely cold either. 

Wei Wuxian’s good mood is slightly spoiled by the arrival of Lan Qiren. After acknowledging the respectful bows of greeting he remains in the doorway and gestures to Wen Qing.

“Disciples,” Lan Wangi says, standing up a bit straighter, if that’s possible. “Lady Wen is a very accomplished doctor, and she is going to give you all a lesson today. Let us thank her.” 

“Thank you, Lady Wen,” the children chorus.

Wen Qing inclines her head. “Today I am going to show you a simple dressing, which helps to heal a cut or scrape. The first thing we do is to clean the wound with fresh water.”

She’s clearly uncomfortable with all of the attention focused on her, but she patiently talks the children through chopping herbs and measuring out oils, which type of cloth is best for binding. She lets them each come up to smell the ingredients separately and the concoction together, looking a bit thrown at their starry-eyed adoration with every question. The children are very well behaved—Wei Wuxian only has to tap the Trio of Terror on the shoulder a few times and raise his eyebrows before they stop fidgeting.

“Now I can show you how to apply the dressing,” Wen Qing says. She turns to Lan Wangji and blushes, looking between him and Lan Qiren awkwardly.

“Here, Lady Wen!” Wei Wuxian pipes up. “I volunteer to be your patient!” 

He winds his way around the kids and squeezes in between her and Lan Wangji, rolling up his sleeve. Wen Qing picks up a small knife and the smaller children gasp.

“Wei-qianbei!” Lan Sizhui cries out, covering his eyes.

“Don’t worry, friends! Lady Wen is a very talented doctor and will fix me right up.”

Wen Qing sets the knife against his forearm, but before she can break the skin another hand closes gently around Wei Wuxian’s wrist, pulling him away.

“That is not necessary,” Lan Wangji rumbles, fingers warm and firm and circling Wei Wuxian’s forearm completely.

“It’s alright, Lan Wangji,” he says quietly. “Lady Wen has healed worse than a little cut.”

“It is not necessary,” he says again. He keeps a hold of Wei Wuxian’s arm and picks up a brush, dipping it lightly in ink and drawing a thin line across his skin. “There. That will do.”

“I don’t think—”

“A-Yuan is frightened,” Lan Wangji says quietly, not looking up from the drying ink for a long moment.

When his wits have regathered, Wei Wuxian pulls gently out of his grasp and turns a smile on the children. Lan Qiren is glowering from the doorway.

“We can imagine that this is a little cut. Nothing to worry about! Lady Wen, will you show us how to apply the dressing?”

It’s a bit silly; Wen Qing dabs around the ink with a cloth and ties the fragrant bundle around his arm.

“It feels better already!” he says, striking a strong pose to make the children laugh.

“Yes,” Wen Qing says, fussing with her ingredients. “So that’s how the medicine works. You can add other ingredients as well, if there is swelling or infection.” 

The children look at her. She looks at Lan Qiren. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji look at each other.

“Thank you, Lady Wen,” Lan Wangji says, bowing graciously to her. The children mimic him.

Lan Qiren stays in the doorway, watching.

“Hanguang Jun!” Ouyan Zizhen calls out suddenly. “When are you and Lady Wen getting married?”

Little romantic. 

“Very soon,” Lan Qiren says from the doorway. 

The children buzz with excitement until Lan Qiren clears his throat, frightening them all back to attention. Wei Wuxian stands between the couple, very carefully looking at no one.

Unable to stand another second of silence, Wei Wuxian cries out, “Disciples! Should we show Lady Wen what we learned in the garden?”

There’s a great cheer, and when Lan Wangji gives a nod the children file out of the infirmary. 

“Everyone check on your favorite plants and make sure there are no weeds!” Wei Wuxian calls after them.

“Here, let me take this off,” Wen Qing says, reaching for the dressing, but Wei Wuxian pulls back.

“Oh no!” he pouts. “This was a gift from the great Lady Wen. Lan Wangji, don’t let her take it away from me. After all, I may need it one day!”

Wen Qing rolls her eyes and starts out of the room, only to be stopped by Lan Qiren. Wei Wuxian tries to overhear, but Lan Wangji catches his arm again, gently. He reaches out and rubs his thumb over the smear of ink that peeks out from beneath the cloth.

“It would have been fine, Lan Wangji,” Wei Wuxian says softly. “I’ve had worse than a little cut from a friend.”

“I know.”

There’s nothing else to say, and in the silence Wen Qing’s voice carries through the room.

“—I don’t understand, Teacher.”

“Don’t worry, it will become easier as they get to know you. They respect you, and that is what matters. Between you and Lan Wangji, the junior disciples will have everything they need.”

“Uncle,” Lan Wangji says, moving away from Wei Wuxian. “I don’t understand your meaning.”

Lan Qiren waves a dismissive hand. “Certainly you do. After the wedding, when Lady Wen moves to Cloud Recesses permanently, she will take over caring for the children.”

Wei Wuxian digs his thumbnail into the wood of the table. 

“Uncle,” Lan Wangji says again, stubbornly polite, “Lady Wen is an accomplished doctor. Surely her talents are more suited for the infirmary. There is no reason Wei Wuxian should not stay as caretaker.”

It looks very wrong for Lan Qiren’s glare to focus on Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian almost wants to dive between them, as if he could take the force of it like a lightning bolt to the chest. 

“Wangji, we will be in a stronger negotiating position after the marriage. The Gusu Lan Sect has borne this shame long enough.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply. Wei Wuxian might almost think he’s been forgotten, but Lan Qiren casts him a brief disdainful glance on his way out the door. He digs his nail deeper into the table, then yanks his hand back as a splinter starts to draw blood.

“Come on, Master and Lady,” he says, aiming for cheerful. “The kids are excited.”

They reach the garden just as Lan Yixian hits Su Meiling in the back of the head with a clump of dirt. Before she can start yelping about it, Wei Wuxian rushes over to brush off her hair, waving the others around him with one hand.

“Here, here, come on. Let’s show Lady Wen and Hanguang Jun what we learned about the garden. Do you remember?”

“Yes, Wei-qianbei!” they crow.

I’m going to miss that, he thinks.

 He lines them up in a scraggly, muddy row, silently wishing he could change them into their play clothes, and says, “You know the song, so sing when I direct you! Licorice first!”

He taps Wen Ning on the shoulder and sings quietly along with him.

“In a sandy bed in bright light Here is licorice, growing strong!” 

Wei Wuxian taps Yao Hauling on the head, and she sings, “Soothes your stomach with one small bite!”

“Everybody!”

“Sun and rain we sing our song!”

Wei Wuxian spins along behind them, tapping heads between each line.

“In the shade with lots of water—”

“Here is ginseng, growing strong!”

“Helps revive a sleepy daughter.”

“Sun and rain we sing our song!” 

“Winding up the poles in sunshine—”

“Lei gong teng is growing strong!”

“Fixes swelling—clever green vine!”

“Sun and rain we sing our song!”

“Here in shadow, where it’s soggy—”

“Pink rhodora growing strong!”

“Take when mountains make you groggy.”

“Sun and rain we sing our song!”

“Excellent, excellent!” Wei Wuxian shouts, tousling hair and pinching cheeks. Lan Wangji and Wen Qing clap, and Wen Qing leans over to give her brother a squeeze.

“I knew they couldn’t take your music away,” she murmurs to him, smiling over Wen Ning’s shoulder.

“I don’t get in trouble if someone else sings it,” he replies, tapping his nose.

“I am very impressed by your memorization,” Lan Wangji says. Lan Sizhui looks like he’s about to lift off the ground with pride. “And the medicine garden is very well-tended. You have all been very attentive to the plants and also to the rabbits on the back hill. The Lan sect and I thank you for your dedication.” He bows very formally, and the children bow in return, struggling to keep their grins under control.

“Now, my clever, muddy rascals,” Wei Wuxian says, “off to lunch! Go on, wash the dirt off your hands. It may be medicinal, but it tastes bad on rice. Go, go!”

“Dirt is not medicinal,” Wen Qing says as they run ahead of him. 

“It’s a medicine garden, Wen Qing.” He winks at her. “Walk! Don’t run! Walk! Come on—”

“Wei Wuxian,” Lan Wangji says. “A word.”

It’s not a question, but it’s not a command either. Somewhere in between. 

Wen Qing nods to them both and hurries off after the children.

“She’ll get the hang of it,” Wei Wuxian says. Stop. Shut up. “They’ll love her. So will you, of course. If you don’t already.” Shut. Up.

“Wei Wuxian,” Lan Wangji frowns, “about what Lan Qiren said.”

“Don’t worry about it. Never mind! Naturally, nothing lasts forever. Naturally!”

“Wei Wuxian—”

“Although I do agree with you, Wen Qing is wasted outside the infirmary. Not wasted, obviously! What do I know? Lan Qiren is so old fashioned. But! Above my pay grade, clearly. Actually, I don’t get paid—”

“Wei Wuxian—”

“Wei Ying. Please.” He swallows and looks down at his hands, picking at his bandage. “Once. Once more.”

“Wei Ying.”

He hates how it thrills him.

“You work hard. What you do—I can’t do what you do.”

“You sell yourself short, Second Master Lan.”

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian’s eyes snap up to meet his. He looks very much like he wants to break eye contact, but he doesn’t.

“Aiyah,” Wei Wuxian breathes. 

“Only when the children aren’t around.”

“Obviously.”

Lan Wangji nods, turns, hesitates, and leaves.

“Aiyah.” Somehow, haltingly, Wei Wuxian smiles.

Part Twelve

[secret-engima]

Nox verse. Nox's perspective of Nyx leading him away from the Hall of Arts during a Quiet Day and/or when she tries (and sometimes manages) to tug him away from the edge of a Quiet Day?

Hmmmm sure! Ficlet ramble time! Let’s say this takes place after they’re Galahdian Married but pre-Lucian fancy official wedding (and pre-Regis knowing about the whole oops-a-galahdian-just-married-your-son-without-telling-you).

...

“Oh, Nox.”

It’s the first thing to break through the haze, a soft voice he knows (has seen die has lived through the eyes of has known for years and loves-loves-loves), and he tilts his head toward it even though he can’t quiet get his eyes to focus (can’t look away from the tapestry before him and the lies-lies-lies-heartbreak-lies woven into the threads. A calloused hand gently takes his own, fingers twining with his own unresponsive ones, and he distantly thinks that he wants to grip her hand back, but he doesn’t have the energy and its already taking enough effort to remember which “her” this is (it’s not Somnus’s little Spitfire, it’s not Wanderer’s Twilight with her violet eyes and black and green tattoos winding up her cheek, it’s not Conquerer’s Flower or Wise’s patient Dawn or Mors light-love-heart Vita, it’s his, his love, his heart, and if he clings to that maybe he can finally wade out from the memories weighing down his bones).

She tugs on his hand, a practiced step and pull that finally forces him to turn away from the tapestry (not force, guide, because he wanted to stop, but stopping was too hard on his own, without someone to anchor him outside his head).

She’s beautiful, he thinks distantly. Not in the same ways Odessa-Vesper-Flora-Aurora-Vita-Aulea-so-many-others-names-faces were. She was beautiful in a rougher, wilder way. None of the past kings had ever wed a soldier, and it showed in her bearing. In the set of her shoulders and the callouses of the hand holding his.

It made her feel real. Somewhere past the fog.

“Come on,” she says, though he more reads her lips than makes out the individual sounds of her voice, “it’s late.”

Late.

Is it?

Oh. There’s moonlight on the floor. It is late.

Someone must have woken her up to come get him.

Sorry, he tries to say, but doesn’t manage more than an apologetic grunt. There are too many languages-phrases-pronunciations cluttered on his tongue to do more. If he says it, he isn’t sure which language it will come out in, or what era his accent will be from or-.

Better to just not try.

Her smile turns sad and he regrets. Today is ... bad. Very bad. But he can’t fix it.

It would be better if she just left him and went back to bed, but he isn’t sure how to tell her that, so she stays and moves to lean against his side, her arm looped between his and his side, her fingers still twined with his. The magic under her skin that is hers-but-not brushing against his without fear of drowning as she leads him slowly down the Hall. She talks as they go, little things. Meaningless things. Things that matter to Noctis-Nox-Noctis-Nox and not the unfeeling tide of ancient-kings-queens-lives trying to pull him down. He clings to the sound of her voice. To the little meaningless things she’s telling him (Libertus made banana bread today, Crowe almost set Captain’s eyebrows on fire with her new spell and had to scrub down his office as punishment, someone glued all of council room furniture to the ceiling and while no one has proof, Ardyn is looking awfully smug, tomorrow Sonitus is going to try talking to that girl he’s had his eye on for so long and we’re all going to come cheer him on- or tease him, depends on who it is).

A statue catches his gaze and he stops and stares. It’s Fierce, posing with that mace of his-mine-his that my-his-his Shield always teased him for because it was so big and fancy and silly, and Nox can feel it in his hands, feel the way it hummed and sang for the Tonitrus-him-Tonitrus like no other weapon in his training had-.

Fingers squeeze his hand, “Nox,” says the voice in his ear, soft and coaxing and familiar-loved-adored, “come on, babe. We’re almost out.”

Who is Nox? He’s Tonitrus.

No wait that isn’t right he’s Somnus-

No he’s-

He-

Noctis. He’s Noctis isn’t he? Or-

He used to be.

“Nox,” the voice (Nyx, his Nyx, his Night his Glaive his Love his Heart) says again, more firmly this time, and the combined tug-shove of her arm around his drags him past the statue of the man he isn’t-but-remembers-being. He manages to turn his head and drop his gaze to the floor, and some part of him is infinitely grateful that they never carried through on those renovations Mors wanted to make the floor one big mural of the history of Lucis because if they had done that he might actually drown-.

They clear the doors to the Hall of Arts, and it’s a bit like coming up for air after being underwater too long. He breathes and the air in his lungs trembles from relief. He’s still in water (still in a fog of memories that aren’t his and don’t belong) but he’s out, his head is above water. The world firms, reality becomes easier to touch, and he becomes aware of how late it is, aware that Nyx is wearing her Kingsglaive coat but underneath that her feet are in slip ons and her pajama pants have little malboros on them. He blinks a few times at her feet, then looks up slowly and meets her eyes.

She smiles at him, thin and sympathetic (she knows what it’s like to get lost in bad memories, even if hers aren’t nearly as deep as his, she knows what its like to drag other glaives out of the fog that weighs down their bones), “Hey,” she murmurs softly, “you back?”

He tests the words on his tongue before speaking them, and they taste like modern language, so he risks a hoarse, “Think ... think so.”

She tugs him closer and they start walking down the corridors back toward his suite together (genuinely together, not with her pulling and him shuffling along without conscious will of his own), “Good. Wanna talk about it?”

She asks that every time, just like she does for the other glaives, and every time he gives the same answer. “No.”

She lets it go, and the two glaives on duty outside his suite (there were two Crownsguard out there earlier he thinks, but they’ve been shooed away by a worried Libertus and a tired-eyed Tredd) let them through without comment. Nox blinks and isn’t sure when he went from the doorway of the suite to standing next to his bed, but he’s here now and Nyx has shrugged off her Kingsglaive coat and is gently tugging him down onto the mattress.

He lies down on his side and a moment later Nyx curls around his back, the big spoon to his little spoon, her arms anchored around his waist, ensuring he won’t get up and accidentally wander into the Hall of Arts again tonight.

She kisses the back of his neck as she whispers for him to sleep, and he carefully wraps his hands around hers, squeezing them in thanks. Tomorrow he’ll be better, more responsive. Tomorrow he’ll make up for the fact that she had to walk up from Little Galahd to the Citadel in her pajamas and coat to anchor him in place for the night. Tomorrow he’ll be ... Nox. Just Nox. And he’ll do something nice for her, like cook breakfast, or just take her out to the gardens and sing for her as they slow dance together. But for now... for now he’s tired, and the fog is dragging down his bones, and he’s not quite Nox enough to do any of those things.

So he relaxes into her hold and lets himself drift.

Nyx won’t let him drown in old memories tonight.

[theperditioncrasher]

My Pretty Carnival Girl (1/2)

Jaskier x Reader

 Hi guys, this is the first fanfic I’ve written in a long time, I just fell so in love with The Witcher and it’s characters, I couldn’t help myself. There will be a part two to this that will probably be smut. Hope you guys enjoy!

The Song used in this ‘Fakenham Fair’ by Bellowhead though I have changed a few of the lyrics to suit the characters.

Warnings: occasional swearing, suggestive themes, A LOT of fluff!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or the music involved.

word count: 3846

You can find part 2 here

Y/N winced as the raucous drunken roars of the Inn’s occupants hurt her ears as she squeezed through the crowds towards the table in the corner, juggling three large tankards. Celebratory ale spilled over onto the floor as tankards clunked together in toast to the Witcher; Geralt of Rivia. The Witcher and his companions had ridden into town in the early break of morning, where they were approached by the desperate townsfolk who offered all the money they had for Geralt to slay the Basilisk that had been terrorizing the town for many moons now. The Basilisk had been killing livestock for weeks and had recently moved on to the taste of human flesh. The townsfolk had begged their king to do something, but the drunken letch ignored them, leaving Geralt as their last hope. The Basilisk had been no match for the mighty Witcher, and by dusk they had returned to the entire town piling into the local Inn in celebration, offering free food, drink, and accommodation for their saviours in thanks. Jaskier had been so happy he could have cried at the idea of sleeping in a real bed after so many nights on the cold hard ground. They all bathed and ate until their bodies were warm and full; even Geralt seemed more at ease after a soak in a hot bath, washing away all the blood and grime, the tension in his broad shoulders slipping away.

The Witcher in question sat at a table in the corner of the Inn, cast in shadow; his damp silver hair curled at the ends, his eyes like glowing embers in the dark. He watched the rain outside patter against the window seemingly lost in thought, only broken when Y/N crashed into the table as she leapt out of the way of two burly men jostling each other in another raucous cheer of celebration. She set down the drinks and slid one towards Geralt who grunted in thanks before taking a large swig of ale.

She took her seat next to him and took a sip of her own drink, her eyes watered as the alcohol burning her throat. She placed the other at the edge of the table, ready for the third member of their small party. Its owner; Jaskier was stood on a chair, lute in hand and head thrown back in song as people danced around him. The dark curls stuck to the sweat on his forehead and his eyes shone as he revelled in the cheers and claps around him. His grin shone brightly like a flame, lighting up the room and settling in the pit of Y/N’s stomach with a curling warmth. She drank in every inch of his beautiful appearance. His long fingers gliding across the lute strings with gorgeous precision, causing the veins to protrude on his firm forearms, disappearing under the bunched up roll of his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, his skin slightly sun-kissed from their time in the afternoon sun during their travels. His jacket rested next to Y/N on the bench, discarded earlier in the evening. The shirt clung to the sweat on his skin and lay open at the neck, dark whispers of hair peeking out from beneath the seams. Y/n felt heat rush to her cheeks as her gaze became fixated on a single drop of sweat that slid down the bard’s sharp jaw, down his throat and slipped beneath the neck of his shirt. What sweet noise would he make, she wondered, if she caught that droplet with her tongue?

Her reverie was broken by a worn rag being pushed in her direction by the Witcher she had forgotten was sitting beside her. She picked up the rag and inspected it with confusion.

“What’s this for?” she asked turning to Geralt.

“To wipe up the drool off your chin,” he replied, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth his eyes alight with idle amusement.

Y/N’s face burned as she sputtered in mortification.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she grumbles as she throws the rag back in the Witcher’s face and slumps in her seat, gulping down her ale to hide her bright red cheeks as a low chuckle rumbled from her friend.

Y/N and Geralt had a strange friendship, stretching many years from when she was still a girl helping her father in his smithy. Her father had been the best blacksmith in Fakenham, creating weapon for knights, mages, and mutants from across the land, and had struck up an unlikely friendship with a young Geralt from his many visits to their shop. After her father died, she continued his work and Geralt continued his visits. He would sit while she worked and listen to her talk, supplying the occasional grunt or hum in reply. Over the years, her shop shrank into a small stall in the market as business became scarce; not many people trusted the skill of a female blacksmith. It was during the annual fair six months ago that Geralt came through for a job, only this time he travelled with a companion. A rather handsome companion, Y/N had noticed. Once Geralt had slain his monster, she begged him to take her with him. She had nothing left in Fakenham; no family, no shop, just a small stall and a dingy room above the tavern. Her heart soared when he agreed, she packed up her things and didn’t look back. She didn’t want to be a burden so she repaid Geralt by repairing his swords and his armour, and selling little metal trinkets and jewellery she crafted on the campfire. She needn’t have worried too much, Geralt seemed to care about her, and she hoped he considered her to be family as much as she did him.

The Bard had exceeded her first impression of him as they got to know each other. While it was his beauty that had struck her, it was his charming and flirtatious nature that gave him a place in her heart. Her pulse jumped in her throat and butterflies fluttered furiously in her stomach every time he was near her. He could turn her entire body to a raging inferno with nothing but a wink. She fell in love with him slowly and all at once, but it soon became apparent he did not feel the same way. The same flirtatious nature that had drawn her in was not reserved for just her, it would seem. Jaskier eyes would follow every beautiful maiden (and handsome man) they came across, serenading them with his smile and his songs then disappearing into their bedchambers until the next morning. While she had been heartbroken, she soon accepted things as they were. She never wanted to lose their friendship and so she would force herself to get over these feelings. She could never hate him for feelings he did not have; how could he have known how she felt when she kept her feelings hidden?

She dropped her empty tankard now that her face had returned to its natural colour and side-eyed Geralt, who still had a small mischievous twinkle in his eye as he drained his own. It seemed her feelings weren’t as hidden as she’d originally thought.

Y/N jumped as Jaskier dropped down beside her, his chest heaving. He rested an arm over her shoulder and gulped down his ale. He slammed the tankard onto the table and licked the remaining drops from his pink lips. Before she could help herself, her eyes dropped to watch the action, her breath stuttering. Thankfully Jaskier didn’t seem to notice as he looked out across the room.

“Isn’t it marvellous to finally be around people who truly appreciate musical artistry when they hear it,” he gleamed. Y/N raised an eyebrow.

“And what are we, chopped mutton?” she teased, biting her lip to hold back her grin.

Jaskier inclined his head toward Geralt “I mainly talking about Mr Misery over there. You, my lady, are of course my most appreciative audience, and my most cherished muse,”

He drops his face closer to hers and winks, causing her cheeks to flare up again and a giggle to slip past her lips. She chastised herself for her silly girlish reaction. She was supposed to be getting over these feelings, but every time he opened his mouth, a charming compliment and flirtatious wink would send her leaping heart whirling back to where it started. She removed herself from under Jaskier’s arm to save her poor chest before it burst open and picked up the empty tankards.

“Anyone for another round?” she asked, but before either man could reply she was on her feet and diving through the crowds.

Jaskier’s shoulders slumped in defeat as he watched her retreating figure disappear into the sea of faces.

“I told you Geralt, it’s hopeless” he moaned, “How could someone as perfect and radiant as Y/N, a literal walking goddess, ever look for more than a second at a lowly bard like me. Especially when this bard is stood next to the likes of you,”

He sunk lower into his seat, sending a scowl towards the Witcher. Geralt paused and frowned.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jaskier scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Oh come on, surely you’ve seen the way she looks at you, with those big, beautiful doe eyes. She’s in love with you!” he cried, “How could she not be, with your perfect jawline and bulging biceps,”

He huffed and sunk back into his seat, sulking. Geralt had to take a moment to gather his exasperated thoughts. How on earth could two people be so moronic that they were practically perfect for each other in their own stupidity? How could Jaskier not realise that when he thought Y/N was looking at Geralt, she was actually looking at the fucking idiot stood next to him! How could Y/N not see that whenever the young bard sang songs of love and heartache, his eyes never left her.

Y/N returned to the table, now with three refilled tankards. She placed them in front of the men before sitting down, this time in a chair opposite Geralt. The new seating position did not go unnoticed by Jaskier, causing him to sink even further into his seat and huff, turning away. Geralt watched as Y/N’s gaze flickered towards Jaskier before dropping to the cracked tankard in front of her once she saw that his focus was directed towards the crowd. He didn’t think he had ever come so close to smashing two peoples’ heads together as he had in that moment, looking between the brooding pair.

“fucking idiots,” he growled, his sudden outburst causing the two to look up at him in shock.

However, before either of them could question him, one of the girls from the town skipped over to Jaskier, her friends close behind her giggling.

“Excuse me, Bard?” she squeaked.

Jaskier jumped up, his grin returning as took the girl’s hand and placed a light kiss on it.

“What can I do for such a lovely maiden as yourself?” he purred.

The poor girl looked like she was about to combust. Her friends shrieked behind her, fanning their own blushing faces.

“We wondering if you could play us some more songs, we’d love to dance for you,”

Jaskier straightened his shirt and picked up his loot.

“How could I deny such a request when the heavens have sent angels to ask it?”

He turned to shrug at his companions before following the gaggle of giggling girls. Y/N swallowed back the bile that threatened to rise in her throat, attempting  to wash the foul taste away with another glug of her ale. But it did nothing.

“I think I’m going to go to bed,” she murmured, pushing her half full tankard towards Geralt and began to rise from her seat, but the Witcher grabbed her arm, making her freeze.

“Sit down,” he growled, his gloved hand still holding tightly on her wrist. Y/N cautiously sank back into her seat, looking at him with concern.

“Is everything okay Geralt?” she asked, nervously. Had she done something wrong?

“You’re an idiot, you both are,” he snarled, narrowing his eyes.

“Me? What did I do?” Y/N huffed, taken aback, and a little insulted at his harsh words.

“How can you not see that Jaskier as in love with you as you are with him,”

Now really taken aback, she began spluttering as that stupid blush that had plagued her all night rushed across her face, running up her neck and burning the tips of her ears.

“I’m not in love with him!” she pointlessly protested, “And even if I was there is no way in hell he’d feel the same way, look at him!”

She pointed over to the bard who had resumed his place on the chair, smiling widely at the girls that surrounded him dancing and giggling.

“That man can’t keep in his pants for more than two seconds, distracted by anyone that has a pulse and an empty bed. What makes you think he has the time to look twice at me?”

Tears began to burn behind her eyes, if this was the Witcher’s idea of a joke it was cruel and most definitely not funny. She liked to think Geralt wouldn’t be that mean, not to her at least.

“If you actually paid attention you would have noticed that he hasn’t been with anyone in months, it stopped not long after you joined us. That’s because of you Y/N. I’ve nearly strangled the bastard too many times because he won’t shut up about you,” Geralt leaned back in his seat and sighed,

“You both spend hours staring at each other and pining away, but you’re both too caught up in your own self pity to realise that you both feel the same way. Then I have to put up with your sad, sulking arses, do you have any idea how fucking annoying it is? So suck it up and knock it off, just tell each other for fuck sake,”

Y/N remained frozen, staring at him in shock. All these years of knowing each other and that was probably the most she’d ever heard Geralt speak in one conversation. She was so in shock that her brain had to take a few seconds to process the words he had actually said.

Geralt became impatient, not waiting for her to answer he rose to his feet and stormed over to Jaskier. He grabbed the bard by the collar and dragged him down to face level so he could say something in his ear. Whatever it was caused Jaskier to grow pale with fear and frantically shake his head. But Geralt ignored his pleading and growled at him. The bard gave him a resigned nod before returning to face his audience with a strained smile.

Y/N’s gaze followed Geralt as he returned to their table with a questioning look, but he said nothing. She turned her focus to Jaskier who seemed to be taking a few deep breaths before clearing his throat to gather the attention of his audience.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” he called, his voice wavering slightly, “I am afraid this magical night must finally come to an end,”

The crowd booed, but he ignored them, talking over their cries.

“So I will leave you with one last song. This song I have been composing for a few months and have never played in front of anyone before,”

His eyes flickered over to her, the raw feeling glinting in the candlelight made Y/N’s chest tighten, he looked so vulnerable, so afraid. She had never seen him like this.

“But for my wonderful listeners, I will play it for you tonight in farewell!”

The room slowed to quiet whispers as they waited in anticipation. Jaskier released a shaky breath and began to play. The tune was just as joyful and light as the rest of the night’s compilation, but it was slower in tempo. She didn’t recognise the tune and that made her frown. He always seemed to ask her opinion on his new songs so she thought she knew them all but this one was completely unfamiliar to her.

I never really fell in love ‘til I went out to Fakenham fair,

A chance for t’meet with a carnival girl

who was selling the fortunes there.

Try for a sword or a silver spear or a

Golden filigree.

But all the while her eyes were saying “Oh

Come, Take a chance on me!”

So swing around the merry-go-round,

Give the wheel of fortune a whirl,

The finest prize at Fakenham fair

Is the pretty carnival girl

Y/N’s breath caught in her chest, listening intently to the lyrics of his ballad. The song was about her home, and the fair where they had met. This was about her, about them meeting for the first time. It was a love song and it was about her. She turned to Geralt but he just pointed back towards the bard, a smug smirk on his face.

Her eyes were [E/C], her hair was [H/C],

And her lips they were soft and red

And I’ve never seen a shape like hers and

My eyes nearly popped from my head

For I was foolish and blind to love, oh, but still

Even I could see,

The way she smiled and winked my way said

“Come take a chance on me!”

A small tear slipped past the corner of her eye as she took in Jaskier’s words. Geralt had been right, she was stupid; they both were.

There was no wavering in Jaskier’s voice anymore as he held her gaze while the lyrics poured from his mouth, but his stomach felt like it was about to drop to the floor. He couldn’t bear the thought of seeing the look of betrayal and disgust in her eyes once she realised his love song was about her, but he couldn’t seem to pull his stare away from hers. Why had he listened to Geralt when he told him to play her song? Was it payback for all those nights begging for his council on the lyrics long after Y/N had gone to sleep? Or was Geralt so cruel that he would force Jaskier to humiliate himself in front of the woman he loved in order to steal her for himself. He flickered his focus to the Witcher in question sat next to her. He looked smug, but the moment he noticed the bard watching him he rolled his eyes and pointed to Y/N. It was then, when his focus returned to his muse that he finally saw it. It wasn’t disgust in her eyes, but hope. Hope that the meaning in his lyrics were real, that the love he sang of was true. His heart stuttered in his chest and he nearly missed a beat as his breath caught in his throat. He prayed to the gods and offered up his soul that the hope that shone in her gorgeous eyes meant that she felt the same way about him.

The old boys said “She’s too good for you, now

What will the old people think!”

But I took my chance and I won that girl

Just as quick as my eye could wink,

Feeling a sudden rise of bravery, Jaskier sent a wink her. The smile that bloomed on her face made his heart stop and burst completely. His cheeks ached with a smile that matched her own. Surely this had to be a dream, a beautiful, heavenly dream. Any moment now he would awake to the forest around him, the cold ground beneath his back and Y/N’s delicate snores  near him, none the wiser.

And the finest day in all my life whatever

May come to pass,

Was the day that I went to Fakenham fair

And won me the carnival lass.

So swing around the merry-go-round,

Give the wheel of fortune a whirl,

The finest prize at Fakenham fair

Is my pretty carnival girl.

The crowds cheered and clapped as the Bard closed his song and gave a bow. As he lifted his head, Jaskier looked back towards the table. He froze in panic when he caught no sight of her, her seat was empty. All that remained was an abandoned ale and a smug Witcher nodding towards the crowd. Jaskier followed his direction to see Y/N pushing through the crowd towards him. As though lightning had struck him, he jumped off the chair and rushed to meet her halfway, grabbing her outstretched hand and pulling her free from the sea. The force sent her crashing into his chest and he caught her, arms entwining around her waist. She was flush against him, the smell of his sweat filled her senses and made her giddy.

“Hi,” he stuttered, a nervous smile tagging at his lips.

“Hey there,” she replied, beaming up at him.

His arms tightened around her waist, pulling her even closer into him. Her warm body against his set his nerve endings ablaze. His nerves slowly dissipated and his smile spread wider to match her own. His gaze flickered to her full lips and his mouth watered. There were no barriers anymore, his feelings were out in the open. From her reaction to his song, not only did she seem to accept them but reciprocate them as well. Now there was nothing holding him back from giving in to every temptation that had crossed his mind. His face dropped nearer to hers, his breath fanned across her face, sending shivers down her spine. But she stopped him with a hand pressing against the bare skin of his chest.

Jaskier froze, still as a statue, sudden icy fear dripped down his spine. Had he made  mistake? But Y/N’s smile never faltered. She moved to entwine her fingers with his and squeezed them affectionately.

“Can we perhaps move this conversation to somewhere more private?” she whispered, eyeing the bustle around them.

A sudden laugh escaped her as Jaskier span around and raced up the stairs, pulled her with him before she had a chance to blink, leaping over a step to stop herself from falling flat on her face.

Geralt watched the couple race up the stairs and disappear into one of the rooms. No one could tell from his shadowed seclusion in the corner, but a small smile graced the Witcher’s lips. He’d never say it out loud but Y/N and Jaskier were his friends and he’d grown tired of watching them make themselves and each other miserable. He took another long sip of his ale and settled into his seat, looking out into the night through the rain as it streaked down the window and looked forward to finally have a night of peace.

 Hope you guys enjoyed! Please leave a like of a comment and tell me what you think. Part 2 will be out soon!

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 2: Ink

(from the My Girl Trilogy: Stay Mine)

…in which memories are like tattoos.

Word count: 7.5k

AU: actor!Harry, older!Harry, younger!Y/N, (4-year age gap).

Wattpad link

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“Y/N! Love!”

Eighteen-year-old Y/N rose from the dirty floor and rushed to the entrance. From the treehouse, she saw her boyfriend standing right by the fence with his hands in his pockets and a confused little grin on his face.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, but she had already reached for the ladder.

“I’ll-I’ll come down.”

Y/N was flustered, but not because she was embarrassed her boyfriend had found her in her neighbour’s treehouse. Blake didn’t know about Harry. Well, not her Harry — her childhood best friend, her first kiss, her first love. He only knew about Harry, the famous actor who used to live on her street. Everyone in that town had heard of him though not everyone knew him for the same reasons she did.

Y/N guessed that was why she kept coming back to his yard, to their place. Harry might be in London, but a part of him stayed in Holmes Chapel, in those leaves, in their house. Maybe she had somehow got over him in the last four years and didn’t feel as hurt when her parents brought him up by accident. But every time her parents got into a fight, she would just run back to this place to seek comfort.

“What were you doing up there?” Blake asked as he helped her get back on the ground.

“I was just…looking for a place to be alone.”

“So you snuck into your neighbour’s treehouse?” The boy scoffed, he wasn’t making fun of her, he was just trying to understand. And as much as she wanted to explain it to him, she honestly didn’t know where to begin.

“I used to hang out with the kid next door so this place holds a lot of my childhood memories,” she said after a quiet moment. “I’ll be leaving it soon so I was...reminiscing I guess.”

“Oh, you had a childhood best friend? You’ve never mentioned her.”

Him, said the voice inside her head, but she only gave her boyfriend a smile.

“Well, the person moved away a long time ago,” was all she could say, and Blake didn’t ask any other questions about her mysterious neighbour.

She hoped she wasn’t acting too weird, but then she realised there was also something not right about Blake that day. He seemed different. She’d known him for almost two years so she knew when his happiness was real and when it was not. Right now, he was trying too hard to look cheerful that it hurt.

“Sit down with me,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her down on the grass. She saw in his eyes the same look she’d seen in Harry’s on the night he left, and she felt a massive lump in her throat, knowing she wasn’t prepared for what was about to happen.

“I-I just got my acceptance letter this morning.”

That wasn’t the answer she’d expected, but it was exactly what she’d wanted to hear. She felt as if an invisible weight was lifted off her chest, and she squealed with elation before hugging him tightly.

“Congratulations, baby, you’re going to ULaw! Where are you gonna live next year? I’ll rent a flat nearby so we can--”

“I’m not going to ULaw. I got accepted into Yale.”

This answer, however, broke her into a million pieces.

She sat there, gawking at him for a moment until her brain could finally process what he’d just said.

“‘Yale’ Yale?” she asked.

“Yeah…” Blake pressed his lips into a nervous smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was so sure I wouldn’t get in and I didn’t want to hype you up and then let you down. But now that I’ve got in, it feels like...like I’ve betrayed you and--”

“No, no, don’t...don’t apologise for getting into Yale.”

“I’m not apologising for getting into Yale, silly.” He grabbed her shoulders, their eyes met. “I’m apologising for not being honest with you.”

She held his stare. His eyes were the perfect shade of winter grey, no wonder why they made her feel cold even when summer had not even begun.

She bit her lip, feeling her heart slowly sink and eventually hit the bottom of her chest as Blake let go of her shoulders to hold her hands.

“I know...I’ve promised a lot of things, that we’ll both move to London and...and be together everyday and always. But now, I--Look, you can be mad at me. If you hate me, I-I understand.”

“I can’t be mad at you, you know that,” she said, laughing. “If anything...I-I’m just...I’m just so proud of you...and I’m happy for you too. I mean, it’s ‘Yale’ Yale.”

But Yale was in the United States. And she would be in London. And despite all the things she’d just said, she almost begged him to please don’t go, please stay with her, please go to ULaw so they could be together everyday and always, like how he’d promised. But then she stopped herself just in time.

“I’ll fly back every once in a while to see you, I—We will figure this out together, we’ll make it work—”

“Blake.”

The way she said his name stopped him at once. He looked at her intently, and it seemed like he already knew what she was going to say.

“No, we won’t, Blake...You know we can’t…”

Y/N was now staring at a yellow petal resting on her shoe, but she could feel him loosen his grip and eventually let go of her hands.

Blake must have come here with the hope that she would say yes to a long-distance relationship as long as they got to stay together, as long as she wasn’t mad at him for leaving England, for leaving her. But she wasn’t mad at him for putting his future first, still, she knew better than to believe two eighteen-year-olds could make this whole thing work and live happily ever after.

She’d been hurt before. She’d seen how it’d gone with her parents. She didn’t want to risk another heartbreak.

She'd said what needed to be said, now she was waiting for him to disagree. He was always good at that, disagreeing. And for someone so opinionated like Blake to stay silent like this, it could only mean that he agreed with her entirely. He knew they could never work, and no matter what daydream he was in, it was time for him to wake up.

After a long moment of silence so each could think on their own, Blake said, “so this is goodbye then…”

When Blake was sad, he bit his lip a lot. Y/N had noticed that at the beginning of their relationship, and now she could not ignore it.

The only thing she could do for him then was to stop herself from crying as they shared one last kiss. If he thought she didn’t love him as much as he loved her, it’d be slightly easier for him to go. At least that was what she wanted to believe in.

But then she collapsed onto the ground right after he had left, holding her face and weeping like a child. She had never admitted that she needed someone, but she needed him. And she loved him. She loved him a lot. Sadly, those were the things Blake would never get to hear.

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“Y/N, it’s me, Blake!”

Y/N blinked twice and found herself still standing in that hallway. Blake was still there, gazing at her in concern and probably thinking she didn’t remember who he was. Oh, how she wished that had been the case. It would’ve been so much easier if he’d been so easy to forget.

“Blake, wow...” she breathed, faking a smile. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

“Is it a good thing?” He arched an eyebrow.

She let out a shaky laugh and gave a shrug. “It is, yeah. Well, you do look older but...still pretty much the same guy.”

“Thank you.” The corners of his lips turned up.

There it is, she thought, that infamous grin.

He was definitely real and she needed to stop pinching her arm and hoping she’d wake up in her bed and this was only a fever dream.

“Do you live here?” Blake asked, pointing to her door.

She opened her mouth to say yes, but all she could do was nod as her eyes fixated on the tattoo on the back of his hand, between his thumb and index finger. A little capital letter.

She remembered exactly where he’d got it and how he’d got it because she had written the first letter of her name and added the little heart beside it herself. She was there when he got it tattooed. And now, three years later, it was still on his skin.

“No way. I live right across!” Blake happily exclaimed as if it was a good thing to have an ex-girlfriend as his neighbour.

But maybe it was for him. Maybe she was looking at this from the wrong perspective. After all, they’d been friends before they were lovers, and this could just be a fun reunion of two friends. Maybe this feeling of awkwardness was only one-sided. Maybe he had put their breakup in the past, and he was never one of those petty boys who got their tattoos removed so they wouldn’t be reminded of their ex-girlfriend. Maybe she was overthinking. Maybe she should stop listening to the voice inside her head.

“Are you...moving back to England?” she asked, trying to sound as normal as she could and hoping he couldn’t see how she kept glancing back at his tattoo.

“Not really. I'm only back to visit my family and intern for this law firm, after that I'll go back to the States. Still have three more years to go. What about you?”

“Um...I’m in my final year.” She nodded, laughing a bit. “Look, I...It’s nice seeing you again and...well, since we’re neighbours, maybe we can...catch up another time? I just got back and I’m really exhausted...”

“Yeah, sure, it’s...it’s fine!” Blake rubbed the back of his neck, biting his lip. “I think I need some rest too. It’s been a long day...Oh wait, it’s already tomorrow!”

“From yesterday’s perspective, yes.”

"Okay. See you...after sunrise?”

“See you after sunrise,” she nodded and quickly turned away to unlock her door, wondering how she could get some sleep after that.

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Blake wasn’t kidding when he said he’d see her after sunrise. When she left her flat at eight-thirty that morning, he was also heading out to go to work.

He looked so different that she almost didn’t recognise him. Now that she thought of it, she suddenly realised she had never seen him dress up like this before. She must admit that he looked good in a suit. It was dark blue which complemented the light colour of his eyes, and it must be expensive for it wasn’t so different from those Harry would wear. He appeared so mature and successful now, not so much the same boy she used to know.

“Hey, neighbour!” he said when both of them reached the staircase at the same time. “Off to class?”

“Yeah,” she said, looking impressed. “You look like a real lawyer now.”

The way he arched an eyebrow and adjusted his tie made her giggle. Her sudden cheerfulness seemed to have lightened up the mood, making the conversation flow more easily and less awkward than before.

They both figured that it was better to take baby steps, so they started with small talk about the weather, their jobs, their families, nothing about relationships though; but they might be getting there.

Once they had passed two floors, Blake blew out his cheeks and said, “do you know when they’ll have the lift fixed?”

“Probably never, so you better get used to this.” She snorted, but he didn’t seem so disappointed with the answer.

“It’s okay. We’d say goodbye faster if there was a lift so I’m fine with this.”

For a smooth-talker like Blake, he knew exactly how to shut down a conversation. Y/N tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked down at her own feet so he couldn’t see her blushing.

Was he flirting with her? Impossible. Blake would never flirt with someone who had a boyfriend.

But did Blake know she had a boyfriend? She hadn’t had a chance to bring up Harry. But Harry was famous so Blake must have known.

But what if Blake was one of those people who didn’t care about celebrities? To be fair, she had never heard about Harry and Ruby’s cheating scandal until she discovered it.  

But why did she just assume Blake still had feelings for her? It’d been three years already. For all she knew, he might also be dating someone else.

Stop overthinking and start acting normal! she reminded herself, taking a deep breath as they walked out on the street together.

The morning light, gold and pale, painted Blake’s lips pink and hair ebony. His eyes were now an even lighter shade of grey. When they were still together, she had made him the protagonist in one of her stories and avoided using ‘grey’ to label the colour of his eyes. She thought ‘grey’ sounded so dull and lifeless, whereas Blake’s eyes were the opposite of those adjectives.

They were shiny like silver, cold like metal, but sometimes they were warm and reminded her of ashes and smoke blowing in the wind, coming from a fire that burned everything to the ground. And while looking into his eyes at the moment, she couldn’t help but think of that interesting comparison.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Y/N?” His voice, once again, pulled her out of her own head.

She immediately plastered a smile on her face. “Yes, I’m good. Maybe still a little sleepy.”

“Where are you parked?”

“Um...I’m-I’m actually taking the bus."

Tell him! Say, ‘my boyfriend usually gives me a ride but he’s busy today.’ Say it!

“I can give you a ride if you want,” Blake said before she could even open her mouth.

As she stood there, trying to figure out how to bring up her boyfriend at this point, a red Ferrari made a perfect turn onto their street like one of those movie scenes and pulled over right in front of them. She felt like Blake was going to say something about how flashy that was, but he didn’t get a chance as Harry stepped out of the vehicle, smiling when he saw her.

“Bambi!”

“H! Wha-What are you doing here?” she asked when he grabbed her face and pecked her lips twice.

“The meeting was pushed back an hour so I wanted to stop by to see you before I go,” he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. It was only then that he acknowledged Blake’s existence and the smile on his face slowly disappeared.

“Uh...This is my boyfriend, Harry,” Y/N quickly said before it got too awkward.

Blake gave an understanding nod, grinning from ear to ear as he said hello to the actor. Harry, on the other hand, only managed to hold a smile for two seconds before going back to looking like someone had stolen his Christmas presents.

“I’ve seen photos of you and Y/N everywhere. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

So Blake knows about Harry, she thought, still gawking at him, but then she snapped out of it once she realised her boyfriend still didn’t know who he was.

“This is...Blake,” was all she said, and it was enough to give Harry the same reaction she got when she first saw Blake in the hallway.

“I’m her new neighbour. I hope she’s also told you that we used to date.” Blake’s forwardness left Harry no choice but to break his silence.

“Yeah, she told me last year.” He nodded, lips pressed together forming an awkward straight line.

As Harry and Blake shook hands, Y/N hoped Harry didn’t see Blake’s tattoo and question about it later. But Harry’s eyes didn’t linger on their hands for longer than a second, so she thought he didn’t notice at all.

“I have to go now or I’ll miss the bus and be late,” she changed the subject to save all three of them from this mess, but it seemed like she was the only want who wanted out.

“I could give you a ride,” Blake quickly said. “The firm is pretty close to your campus so it won’t be a problem.”

“Oh, no, I don’t wanna bother you--”

“It’s okay, I’ll take her,” Harry spoke as he tugged slightly at her arm to get her attention. “I can just drive you there and go straight to the studio.”

“But won’t you be late?”

He opened his mouth to answer his girlfriend, but Blake was way faster this time. “It’s okay, mate. My car is right across the street.”

“Well, my car is right here.”

Y/N knew if she didn’t do something in the next five seconds, one of them would say something stupid, and at this point, she wasn’t sure which one. She pushed right past the guys, opened the door of Harry’s car and climbed into the passenger seat.

“Hurry up or we’ll all be late!” she said, crossing her arms.

Harry cracked a victorious grin as he politely said goodbye to the ex-boyfriend and rushed back to his Ferrari.

“I’ll see you later, Blake!” Y/N said, waving goodbye through the tinted window.

Blake stood on the pavement with a half-smile, one hand holding his suitcase, the other tucked inside his pocket. He stayed there to watch the Ferrari drive off until his reflection in the side-mirror was so small it could not be seen anymore.

.

.

.

Harry noticed that Y/N was quieter than usual. It made sense because she’d just found out her ex-boyfriend was her new neighbour, but she might also be mad at him for the way he had handled the encounter.

As Harry was finally calm enough to think, he realised it was a bit childish and selfish of him to have behaved like that. Hell, he was twenty-five years old. He should’ve known better. Now he couldn’t stop glancing back and forth between her and the road, trying to come up with something smart to say before he dropped her off.

“Don’t you just love this car?” he broke the silence and stole another glance at her. “I already told you, just take it. It’s old and I have other cars.”

“Harry.”

“No, I’m serious.”

“No, listen.” She sounded serious this time so he instantly shut his mouth before he fucked up again.

“I actually saw Blake at the club last night.”

When she blurted out those words, Harry was frozen in his seat. He blinked rapidly, confused and startled at the same time. He had so many questions, but Y/N didn’t give him a chance to ask.

“We didn’t speak though. I saw him and I followed him to see if it was him, then I bumped into Isaac and met that Emilia girl. I was going to tell you when I saw you, but then you apologised, and I freaked out so I spilt Isaac’s secret by accident. It was not until I returned to my flat later that I found out he was my new neighbour.”

“Oh, wow,” Harry breathed, resting his elbow on the window on his side as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He was looking at the road but he could feel her eyes on him, studying his expression.

“Are you mad at me?” she asked.

“No,” he said after a moment. “I know why you freaked out. I mean, I said a lot of crap when I came over last night.”

“So you’re okay with this?”

“Well, technically no, because I don’t like him.” His honesty made her snort. “But since we cannot get him evicted legally--”

“Harry, the guy’s a law student.”

“Shit.” Harry huffed as he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “I cannot run him over with this awesome car then.”

“Harry!” She swatted him on the arm, and he only gave a shrug, sticking out his bottom lip.

“What? He started it!”

“Oh please, and you were such an angel.”

“Thank you!”

She chuckled and playfully flipped him off.

“But jokes aside,” he went on, beaming. “I love you and trust you, so Blake, Isaac, whatever, no one will ever come between us again.”

“Speaking of Isaac…”

“No, no, we are not talking about this, Bambi.”

“We have to at some point!” She jolted right up, turning her whole upper body to the side. “Just please make up with Isaac. I feel terrible that you guys are not talking to each other because of me again.”

“This is not because of you.”

“Not directly!”

“Bambi,” Harry breathed out a laugh, shaking his head, “just calm down, kid. I promise I’ll talk to him...just...not now, all right?”

She looked at him and thought for a second before turning her eyes back to the road ahead.

“Don’t forget about the tattoo,” he said, making her flinch.

“Tattoo?!”

“Yeah,” he gave a nod, perplexed but also amused by her reaction. “I told you I was gonna get a new tattoo this afternoon and you said you wanted to tag along.”

“Oh, yeah, right…” She exhaled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her lips curved into a smile. “Sure, pick me up after your photoshoot.”

When they stopped at a red light and he turned to her, she was too distracted by a pedestrian and her funny-looking poodle to catch him looking. If she did, she would make fun of his stupid little ‘I’m so in love’ grin as always.

But what could he do? It wasn’t his fault that she looked so lovely every time she wasn’t paying attention.

“What’s so funny?”

Harry blinked fast. His cheeks turned red when she raised an eyebrow at him. “Hey, you’re doing that grin again.”

“You look lovely today,” he complimented and she stuck her nose up, putting her hands on her hips.

“Don’t I look lovely everyday?”

“Just say thank you.” He snorted and tapped her on the nose.

“Thank you,” Y/N said forcefully, giggling and turning back to the window on her side.

When the traffic light flicked to green, Harry drove ahead, but he was still wearing that same stupid grin.

.

.

.

"I'm gonna call you Bambi from now on."

Harry didn’t know what was funnier, the look on the little girl’s face when she heard the nickname, or the nickname itself. He’d only said it as a joke, but then he thought he should really start calling her that from now on.

To be honest, this little girl was quite lovely. He always hated kids who cried a lot, but apart from that, she was lovely.

"I have a name," she said with a pouty face, crossing her arms over her chest. "It's Y/N."

"I'm Harry. Harry Styles,” he said, smiling. “Nice to meet you, Bambi.”

Harry didn’t tell her and he assumed she didn’t know, but that little girl had shown up just in time to make him happy again, and therefore, he thought of her as his good luck charm. By the end of the night, Harry had forgotten the reason why he’d come to the treehouse in the first place.

It was around nine when the light on her back porch lit up and they heard her mother’s voice calling her home. Y/N got up, dusting off her clothes, but it seemed like she didn’t want to leave so soon.

“I have to go now,” she said from the entrance, and instead of leaving right away, she lingered there, waiting for something.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

That. She’d been waiting for that.

“Yes! I’ll see you tomorrow! Goodnight!” the little girl exclaimed before waving goodbye and reaching for the ladder to be on her way.

Under the moonlight, he saw her little figure dashing back toward the warm orange light on her back porch. She gave her mother a hug, said something and pointed to him. He smiled at them even though they probably couldn’t see him in the shadow, but then it occurred to him that he still had unfinished business at home, and he should probably get back.

The inside of his house was pitch dark so he assumed Gemma and his mum were already asleep. He quietly entered the house through the back door, tip-toeing from the kitchen to the stairs, but right before he could set foot on the first step, the light flicked on. He saw his sister standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room. She pressed her lips into a gentle smile, putting him back at ease.

Earlier that night, Harry had watched this TV show in which they helped people reunite with their loved ones who’d been separated from them, so during dinner, he’d brought it up, saying those people might be able to help bring his dad back home.

Though Anne had said nothing, Gemma had come into his room later and told him he’d made their mother cry. Harry didn't know what he’d done wrong, yet Gemma kept on accusing him of being ignorant. The siblings had got into a fight about it, and Harry had run to the treehouse to be alone.

But he wasn’t angry at Gemma. Not anymore. He’d spent some time on his own reflecting and thinking before the little girl showed up, and he’d realized where it’d gone wrong.

He supposed it was the same for his sister. She must have felt bad for yelling at him so she’d been waiting for him to come back to have another talk about tonight.

“Where were you?” Gemma asked. She didn’t sound angry, only concerned, and he appreciated that.

“I was in the treehouse.”

He wasn’t sure if his answer had made her upset, but even if it had, she still wouldn’t let it show.

“Look, Gem,” he trailed off, fidgeting with his own fingers and marching toward her. “I’m sorry about earlier...I’ll apologise to mum in the morning.”

“It’s okay. Mum’s not mad at you.” Gemma beamed, lifting her shoulder in a half-shrug. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“It’s okay. I deserved that.”

“No, you didn’t know.” She breathed and stepped forward to hold his shoulders, slightly bending her knees so their eyes were at the same level as they spoke. “I know you want him to come back, and you think him coming back would fix everything. But it won’t. It’ll only make things more complicated. And our family is good without him. We’re not broken. We don’t need fixing.”

Harry chewed on his lip, thinking for a moment. He wasn’t sure if he should tell her this, but he couldn’t keep it in any longer otherwise he might explode.

“Did he leave because of me?”

“What? No!” Gemma shook her head, shocked by the question. “What made you think so?”

“He seemed to love you and mum,” Harry murmured, his eyes shifted to their feet. “He’d built this house for mum, made the treehouse in our yard for you. Mum said, ‘men don’t go building houses for just anyone, it has to be someone they love’. So I must be the reason he didn’t want to stay with us anymore.”

Gemma was quiet for a few seconds, then she let her arms fall back to her sides and exhaled sharply. “God, Harry. Was that what you’d been thinking this whole time? You thought you were the reason he left us?”

Harry replied with a nod.

“Was that why you wanted to find him? Because you felt responsible for him leaving?”

He nodded again, this time, glancing back up to meet his sister’s eyes.

Gemma had already teared up. She wrapped both arms around him, pulling him closer for a tight hug as if she wanted to squeeze all the air out of him.

“He fell out of love with all of us, Harry,” she trembled. “All of us, not just you.”

When Gemma pulled away, Harry feared she was going to cry even harder. He never knew what to do when he saw a girl cry. Thank God, his sister decided to dry her tears with her own sleeves and stand up straight, her eyebrows furrowed.

“He met someone else. He’s probably living his best life with her now,” she said, her face twisted. “Maybe...Maybe he also has new children, those that he really loves, and he doesn’t miss us at all. Trust me, we’re better off without a father like that.”

Harry clenched his jaw, nodding once and reaching for his sister’s hands. “You’re right, we don’t need him. I’ll take care of you and mum, I promise.”

When the boy said that, Gemma laughed, but not because she thought he couldn’t do it. She obviously believed in him. He guessed she was just happy that her thirteen-year-old brother could say something their father had never and would never say.

“All right,” she whispered. “We’re counting on you.”

.

.

.

“Hi, Gem, it’s me, Harry.”

“I know it’s you, idiot. I have your number.”

Harry chuckled at his sister’s remark and fell back onto the couch. It must have been nice to be where she was now, lying on a sunny beach in Bali and drinking coconut juice. Meanwhile, he was at another studio, waiting in his dressing room to get ready for another photoshoot and interview.

“I’ve been given a fifteen-minute break so I decided to call and check on you,” he said, smiling as he heard her laugh.

“Oh, I’m very flattered. I’m having a blast.”

Gemma seemed too happy, which was good, and bad at the same time. He wanted her to be happy, but with the kind of news he was about to tell her, it would’ve been easier if she had been a little less joyous. That was why he decided to give her some time to rant about the wonderful vacation she was having with her rich boyfriend’s family. Once she was done, however, it occurred to her that he’d been suspiciously quiet.

“So what’s up with you?” she asked. “Any fun update?”

He began with a deep breath which had partially given away the fact that she wouldn’t love what she was about to hear.

“Isaac...he...he’s found Winton.”

Gemma was quiet for such a long moment that he thought they’d lost connection.

“Winton?” she spoke at last, her voice was trembling. “Our dad?”

“Yeah.” He shut his eyes and gave a nod. “Isaac met his...daughter in a cafe and they're friends now and he said they wanted to meet us.”

“They? As in that man and his daughter?”

“Yes.”

“Have you--”

“No, no, don’t worry. I’ve told Isaac to ask them to stay away from us. I just wanted you to know.”

Gemma didn’t make a sound. There was no response, not even a sigh of relief. If she was there in person, maybe he could read her mind based on her reaction, but they were on the phone. So right now, he was on the edge of his seat, second-guessing what his sister was about to say.

“I'll meet him.”

“What?” He shot himself out of the couch, standing up straight. “Are you seri--”

“You don’t remember the day he left but I did, okay?!” Her voice had turned from low and calm to high and troubled, which made him worried. But Harry wouldn’t dare to interrupt his sister unless she wanted him to.

Gemma frantically went on, “I came home from school and I saw him in the driveway and mum was crying at the door. I chased after his car even when I knew I couldn’t catch up. And he watched me...he watched his daughter chase after him and he just kept on driving…”

“Gem…”

“So I'll meet him again, just to tell him to his face what an awful person he’s been.” When Harry heard his sister sniffle, he could imagine her wipe away her tears and stop crying for she remembered Winton wasn’t worth her tears.

“He doesn’t deserve to think he’s a good person,” she went on, sounding more stern this time. “I want to make sure he knows and feels terrible for what he’s done. He doesn’t deserve to feel like a good father, not even to his new daughter.”

When that phone call ended, Harry spent the rest of his morning thinking about it.

.

.

.

The first time Y/N had been to a tattoo parlour was actually with Blake. They’d been dating for a year then, and while getting drunk on the roof one night, she’d come up with the craziest idea, which was getting matching tattoos for their anniversary. Blake’s brother was a tattoo artist and was kind enough to offer her one for free.

Her parents obviously didn’t know about that. Bradford had never liked Blake, so if he’d found out, he probably would have blown up Blake’s prized possession which was his motorbike and then maybe...also Blake.

But Blake was the only one getting a tattoo that day. Y/N got scared the second she’d entered the shop without having to sit in the chair, and afterwards, they both joked about how he might regret it one day and have it removed. In the last three years, she had randomly wondered if he’d done it already. Now that she’d got her answer, she couldn’t stop wondering why he hadn’t.

“You okay?” Harry asked, and she gave a nod, too distracted by the way the needle was sliding along his skin to think about her ex now.

Harry had been there so many times before so he probably didn’t think it was painful, but there was no way she would ever want to try having someone push various sizes of needles into her skin over and over again.

Ironically, she had a thing for men with tattoos. Isaac had fewer than the others, but most of the men she’d been with had had at least four. There wasn’t a specific reason behind it. She just liked how they looked on men. She would’ve gotten one a long time ago had she not been such a pussy. She just thought tattoos were interesting because every single one held a different story about its person.

Harry had gotten so many of them that it pissed off Anne and Gemma sometimes, but he didn’t really seem to care. He’d got some silly ones (‘the lovely mistakes’ was what he’d call them), some for Anne and Gemma, a triangle for his friendship with Isaac and Niall (each of them had one, and even though all three of them thought it was silly, they’d decided to keep it anyway), some for Ruby (which had either been covered up or removed), yet none for her.

After all, they’d only been together for three months. It’d be weird to ask him to get a tattoo of something that reminded him of her. From what she’d heard, it was more painful to get a tattoo removed than done, and she wouldn’t want that for him.

“I’m going to meet him.”

Y/N snapped out of it. The sound of the tattoo gun was so loud she thought she’d misheard some of the words, so she hurriedly asked, “who? Isaac?”

“Winton.”

This time, she’d read Harry's lips. There was no way the name wasn’t what she thought it was.

“W-Why? What made you change your mind?”

Harry kneaded his temple with his other hand, his eyebrows knitted together as he let go of a sigh. “I’m meeting him so Gemma won’t have to. She wants to see him.”

“I thought Gemma hated him.”

“Yeah, it’s...complicated. I’ll tell you when we get home.”

“But are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he said, petting her hair. “It’ll be better if I go instead of Gem. I barely remember anything about him, so it won’t be as hard. I’ll just say what she wants me to say and then I’ll go.”

“Can’t you just talk her out of this?” she insisted, even using her puppy dog eyes to persuade him but it didn’t seem to work as he still looked unfazed.

He brought his hand from her hair down to her cheek and stroked her bottom lip with his thumb, smiling softly at her. “I thought about it, but then I realised she could be right.”

“How?”

“Well, it’s like…it’s like getting a tattoo.”

“Uh-huh.” She smirked and rested her chin on her knuckles, surely interested in finding out where he was going with this.

“Every moment in your life is like a tattoo. Some are bad, some are good and they’ll stay with you forever unless you want to get rid of them. But it’s usually the bad events, the bad memories that you don’t want to keep, and the only way to get rid of them is to face them. Some people don’t want to do that because, yes, just like removing a tattoo, it could hurt. Gemma knows it could hurt, but she also knows the only way for her to actually let Winton go, is to see him in person and say what she’s always wanted to say to his face. And I respect that. And I’m gonna do that for her.”

“I see.” Y/N slowly nodded her head, her face screwed up as she thought harder about what he’d just said. “That was very well-put.”

“Hey, maybe I can also become a writer!”

She giggled as he booped her nose and quickly took his hand with both of hers to press it against her cheek.

“When are we going?” she asked, to his surprise.

“We?” A delightful grin tugged at his lips. He must have thought she was joking.

“You think I’m gonna let you go alone?”

In her head, she had prepared something to say in case he told her he didn’t want to drag her into his mess. But then she watched his eyes lit up with a smile twice as big.

“C’mere.” He puckered up his lips. Immediately, she got up and pressed their mouths together.

“Thank you, love,” he sighed. “You’re always there for me. What have I done to deserve you?”

Y/N was just about to reply with something witty when all of a sudden the tattoo artist interrupted their little moment by telling Harry his tattoo was finished.

“A little house! Aww, cute,” Y/N said, peering at the new piece of art on his forearm. When she looked up to see his reaction, she caught him biting his lip and smiling at her. “What?”

Harry laughed without saying anything. But he didn’t have to because she understood immediately what he meant.

“Is that…” Her mouth fell open. “Is that our treehouse?”

“Our treehouse. Our future house. Whatever you want it to be,” he said and sat up straight to hold her face between his palms. “It’s how you look in my eyes.”

“I look like...a house?”

“Why do you have to ruin such a romantic moment?” He rolled his eyes and they both chuckled. “Home. I look at you and I see home. And my mum once said, ‘men don’t go building houses for just anyone.’ I love you, and as cheesy as this might sound, I want to build houses with you. Literally and metaphorically.”

“Awww, you two are adorable!” the tattoo artist said, but this time, Y/N didn’t even pay attention to him. Her eyes already glistened as she wrapped both arms around Harry’s neck, squeezing him so tightly she nearly suffocated him.

“You gotta calm down, babe. You could’ve choked me,” he joked as they broke apart.

“But...you like being choked,” she said, smiling through her tears as Harry burst out laughing. He couldn’t help but pull his Bambi back into his arms.

.

.

.

When Blake opened the door in his bathrobe, he was soaking wet, probably had just got out of the shower and was utterly confused by this unexpected visit. A big smile brightened up his handsome face, but before he could even say hello, Y/N covered his mouth with one hand.

“I need you to be quiet and only speak when I’m finished, okay?”

He nodded quickly as she gave him an apologetic smile before taking a deep breath.

“First of all, I’m really sorry,” she began. “The reason I’ve been acting so weird since I saw you in the club--yes, I saw you in the club last night, and I assumed you were a ghost...I wanted to believe that, because...because...it was easier to deal with a ghost than...you.”

Blake almost laughed but stopped himself when he saw how serious she was.

Y/N swallowed as she went on, “but you’re here now and...and I guess I’ve been kind of rude to you, but it’s not because I still blame you for us not working out. I was just scared of all the things that’s left unsaid between us. So I’m going to say them now. Please just...listen…”

He nodded again, his smile was gone when she removed her hand.

“I’m sorry I didn’t cry when we broke up. I did, but..that was after you’d left. I wanted you to think I didn’t love you as much as you loved me, so it’d be easier for you to go. And...and I’m sorry that I’ve never told you about Harry. Yes, I had a crush on him and he was my first kiss, my first love, but he didn’t like me then. It wasn’t until my mother’s funeral that Harry came back. I was completely in love with you when we were together. I had not thought of him during our relationship and I truly loved you. I was too scared to tell you any of this. But now, I should tell you everything in order to move forward.”

Blake was still quiet. They were just staring at each other in silence, so Y/N had to clear her throat loudly. “You can talk now,” she said, smiling awkwardly at the ex-boyfriend.

"Wow." Blake combed his fingers through his dark locks and exhaled sharply. "Thank you. I...Well...I appreciate you telling me all this and...um just so you know, I’ve never doubted your feelings for me. I knew you forced yourself not to cry so it’d be easier for me to leave.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, silly. I loved you too much to let you fool me like that,” he said, making both of them chuckle. “And I don’t care who you had loved before me or who you’re with right now. The only thing that mattered was that we were in love once and we were happy and honest with each other.”

“Not really honest...I didn’t tell you about Harry so…”

“Just shut up and let me forgive you.”

“Hey!” She scoffed and smacked him on the arm. If she’d known this conversation would be a great icebreaker, she would’ve done it earlier. Overthinking had been exhausting.

“So...friends?” He put out his hand, showing a dimple as he pressed his lips into a half-smile.

“Friends.” Y/N nodded and gave her neighbour/ex-boyfriend an extra-firm handshake. “Quick question,” she trailed off, pointing to the tattoo which she’d almost forgotten about. “Did you not get it removed because it was painful or--”

“Why would I want to get it removed?” Blake tilted his head and looked at her like she’d just asked the dumbest question in the world. “You weren’t a mistake, Y/N. You were actually a great part of my life and...tattoos were supposed to tell stories, right? So why would I want to get you removed?”

“Right…” She bit her lip, taking a step backwards to keep a further distance from him. “I guess...goodnight then.”

“Goodnight,” Blake said as his eyes lit up with another smile. “See you tomorrow, neighbour.”

[queentargary3n]

unfaithful

Summary: Sakura is surprised to see Sasuke is the senior associate of the firm she is supposed to start working for. All of her feelings start to come back 10 years after he abandoned her. Sasuke finds out somethings are truly never behind you, and when he starts falling back in love with her, his past comes to hunt him. Her biggest issue? He is already married

Sasusaku Fanfic AU Lawyers. M

Chapter 4

Sakura knew she shouldn’t have done that. She had punched the lights off the senior attorney of the firm she’d just being hired at. She drove herself home in a trance, completely absorbed in her thoughts. In retrospective, there were many things that she should have maybe done differently, starting with maybe listing Sasuke as a conflict of interest on the NDA human resources made her sign. That could possibly bring her some problems, but it seemed like he was pretending not to know her, and she knew exactly the kind of ex she didn’t want to be.

Damn... and I was so lucky to get hired too. Naruto probably had to pull some strings to get me here. My god! Naruto! What if he tells him! How can I face him now… and what if Sasuke files an assault suit against me!? I could probably hit him back a harassment suit, whatever I’m probably fired, but I mean! The things he said. She thought.

Her mind was going over and over all the possible scenarios her momentary lapse of judgment might have caused. She didn’t even notice, until she got home, that her hand hurt like a mother. It had been such a long time since she had to punch someone, and this was definably going to leave a bruise on her knuckles.

Her phone buzzed in her purse with a text message that read:

Sakura-chan family dinner tomorrow 8pm u in? – Naruto

And she probably shouldn’t. She had already been accused of inappropriate behavior by Sasuke. But she wasn’t about to change how she was with her friend because of some evil-minded jerk. So, before she could give it much thought, she replied:

Sure, I’m in. Can’t wait to meet the baby.

♦

Naruto went into the firm the next day, slightly earlier than normal, and spotted Sasuke laying on the couch of his unusually dark office.

“Hey Teme! Good job on the case! I hear the prosecution is asking for a settlement now… eh? The fuck happened to your face?” he noticed Sasuke’s incredibly swollen cheek with a dark bruise starting to settle under his left eye.  “Mmm… you’re not getting involved with those people again… are you?” he asked while turning on the light switch to seem him better.

“Tch headache! Turn it off!” Sasuke said.

“Did you sleep here? What happened?”

“Why did you hire her?” Sasuke asked, ignoring the previous question. He moved to a seated position still resting his head on the back of the couch.

“Hire who? Sakura-chan? We were best friends in college! She is awesome, isn’t she? I heard she kicked ass in yesterday’s trial!”

“You never mentioned her…”

“Yeah, bit of a sore subject” Said the blond, moving his arm to scratch the back of his head. “I was young and sort of in love with her, she rejected me. She was the one that got me and Hinata together ya know? So, it worked out for the best, but we lost touch after graduation”

“Hn… I thought she just graduated this year, so then you rekindled your relationship behind your wife’s back, asshole”

“What the fuck!” Naruto seriously wanted to punch him for saying things like that, but he controlled himself, noticing the already injured man.

“Are you not? Why did you assign her to my top case? And you’re always touching her and stuff…” Sasuke had to admit, his reasoning sounded weak and silly once he’d voiced it.

“Cuz she is my friend and a medical doctor you idiot! I thought her medical knowledge would be helpful in such a public case like this”

“She’s a doctor?” Sasuke asked in a more relaxed tone. He brought his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, trying to ease the headache that was worsening by the second.

“Yeah, graduated early and everything, I don’t know why but a few years ago she went back to grad school to study law, but the knowledge is there ya know?”

“And you’re not sleeping together…” the raven-haired man muttered weakly.

“No!” Naruto yelled. “You know I love my wife! Wait… you didn’t tell Sakura-chan that did ya?!” Naruto asked, completely amazed at his friend’s stupidity.

“Ah.” Sasuke answered in confirmation.

“Well that explains the damage” Naruto had the nerve to laugh at him. “Sakura-chan can be really scary as I remember” he shook his head, then rested his hands behind his head. “Ne Teme, you owe Sakura-chan an apology” He completed in a serious tone.

“Ah” and Sasuke knew he did, whatever the case was, he knew he had no right calling her out like that, but in the field of apologizing Sasuke was truly lost. “I’ll figure something out”

“Yeah maybe you can figure something out before family dinner tonight! She’s coming, you guys should too” Naruto said, back to his cheerful self, and gave him a small nudge of encouragement. “Go home for now, I’m sure Sakura-chan can handle the rest of the negotiations”

And for once Sasuke did as he was told. He went back to his apartment, since his headache did not seem to be going away anytime soon. He unlocked the door and walked in, expecting to find the apartment empty.

Karin walked out of the bedroom as soon as he opened the door. “Sasuke? What…” she said confused as to why he’d be home at such hours but noticed his face. “What happened?! Are you okay? Oh my god Sasuke does it hurt!?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it” He answered, it was for this same reason he didn’t come home before, Karin tended to make a bigger deal of things than they required, it hadn’t occur to him that the bruise might look worse the next day.

“Tell me what happened! Did Orochimaru…” Karin said, trying to hold back her accumulating tears.

“No” Sasuke replied then sighed. “I… walked into a door” he offered.

Karin gave him an unconvinced looked, and said “Sasuke…”

“I’m fine, really” He said patting her head gently. “I’m just going to rest for a while”

His affectionate actions made her smile. She couldn’t really remember the last time they had contact, and it moved her causing a small flush to spread on her cheeks, before her expression changed into something Sasuke couldn’t make out, confusion, concern, guilt maybe, but he couldn’t dwell on it, since his headache was killing him by that point.

Whatever she seemed to have remembered, made her shake her head to compose herself, she readjusted her glasses and said “I gotta go to the office Sasuke, but I do really…”

“I know you do” He answered before she could finish her sentence. Because whatever was happening between the two, Sasuke knew she cared for him, as he did to her.

Sasuke waited for her to leave and close the door, before walking into the bedroom, his ailment did warrant the use of a bed, so he laid face down into the large bed at the center of the bedroom, he touched the familiar soft sheets they had chosen months before, then wrapped his hand under a pillow to get comfortable.

There, he felt something underneath, then pulled it out to inspect it, and saw a small plastic square turn up.

A condom wrapper.

♦

Family dinner was a regular even at the Uzumaki household. A tradition Naruto kept even after his parents passed. For some time, family dinners consisted only of himself and his godfather, but as an adult, Naruto came to consider a myriad of people family members, and so Friday nights were usually spent, drinking and dinning in the rotating company of whoever was available at that time. This particular dinner’s guest list included Shikamaru and his wife, Sasuke and his wife, if she wanted to show up which she usually didn’t, and Sakura.

“I’m worried about Sakura” said his wife, as she was preparing the food for her soon to be incoming guests, while her husband held their baby. “I don’t want her to feel like the odd one out between a bunch of married couples”

“Don’t worry! She won’t” said Naruto. “It’s not like we’re all going to be talking to our spouses, ignoring the rest of ‘em”

“Still, maybe we should’ve invited someone else. I might be able to talk Neji-niisan into coming last minute, maybe set them up!” Hinata chirped.

“You know Neji doesn’t like you meddling into his ‘love’ life like that” He responded, placing a gently hand on the small of his wife’s back.

“I know, but wouldn’t they look cute together?”  

“Nah I don’t know about that…” Naruto answered, even if his romantic feelings for Sakura were long gone, she always held a soft spot in his heart, and he would always feel protective about her.

“I think someone is here, can you get the door? I’m pretty much done here” Hinata said, a few seconds before there was an actual know on their door.

“Really Hina, I don’t know how you do that…”

Naruto opened the door, to find Sasuke standing outside, his black eye even more prominent than the last time he saw him.

“Tss teme she got you good!” the blond mentioned, as he motioned for his friend to come in. He had been the victim of a few punches by Sakura himself, but he never spotted a black eye like that. “What did you say to her? She must have been pretty angry if she hit you right in the face.”

Sasuke sighed, he almost didn’t show up. He hadn’t figured out what he would say to her. “I sort of… called her a whore…” he muttered, looking down to avoid looking embarrassed.

“Bastard… you really had it coming, you’re lucky I’m holding the baby, or I’d make the other eye match” Naruto threaten.

“How’s he doing by the way” Sasuke said, grabbing the baby’s hand and toying with it, partially trying to change the subject.

“Oh, he’s great, he sleeps through the night now and everything” Naruto answered.

They sat down at the dinner table, with Naruto going on and on about baby Boruto, and how he smiled all the time, and was pretty smart for a 6-month-old baby, and how the transition to food was going smoothly. It wasn’t until 15 minutes into the conversation he noticed Sasuke came alone. “Your wife’s not here?” He asked.

“No, she had to go out or something” Sasuke replied, briefly considering telling Naruto about the condom wrapper he found in their bed. But he decided not to, Naruto’s family dinner was hardly the place to talk about something like that.

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Shikamaru and his wife. Temari, whose name Sasuke always manage to forget for some reason, announced her newly found pregnancy, which engrossed the group in a conversation of parenthood, pregnancy cravings, baby must haves, while Sasuke mostly stayed silent. He held his arms out to borrow baby Boruto from his very talkative father and bounced him up and down from his lap much to the infant’s amusement.

“And you, Sasuke? Have you and Karin thought about having one of your own?” Temari asked him.

Sasuke always imagined himself having a big family of his own, he liked children. But the concept of family seemed to be getting further and further away from him the older he got.  The subject had not even come out with the woman who was now his wife. He always imagined someone else as the mother of his children, it was a goal he had set on his mind: do what he had to do about Orochimaru, his brother, leaving the outlaw world,  then go back to the girl who hunted his dreams since he was a teenager. But that was years ago and leaving left consequences he couldn’t have predicted. So, he buried that thought, underneath responsibilities and duties he had to uphold, and continued to live for years without thinking about the hypothetical cute children with dark hair and green eyes.

“I don’t think Karin w…” he almost responded to the group, interrupted by a knock on the door and the entrance of none other than Sakura, wide eyed and blushing, she seemed surprised he was even there, as she held a bottle of wine and brown gift bag close to her chest.

“Sorry no one answered the door, so I just came in, hope that’s okay” She said, addressing everyone in the dining room, but avoiding Sasuke’s eyes.

“Sure thing! Sakura-chan I’m glad you made it!” Naruto said, standing up and hugging the pinkette.

“Sakura-chan! It’s so good to see you, how long has it been!?” Hinata chirped in higher voice than any of her guest had ever made her do, and wrapped her arms around Sakura and her husband, the three of them locked in an awkward three person embrace.

“Hinata! Too long! You look lovely, motherhood suits you!” Sakura answered, disentangling herself from the hug. “Now where is that cute baby of yours!?”

Naruto scratched his face and turn to look at Sasuke, who was still holding the baby. The sight was endearing for her she had to admit. Sasuke looked down and held the baby in front of his face in offering, still unable to meet her eyes.

Naruto grabbed his son instead and brought him to Sakura’s arms. “This is Boruto” he introduced.

“Naruto! Aw he looks just like you! He is so adorable!” She pressed the baby’s face to her own. “Who knew you had it in you to make something so cute!!”

“Nah, he has my eyes and hair, but the rest is all Hinata ya know?”

“I’m so happy for you two!” Sakura said, wiping a small tear from her eye.

“I’m going to put him down to sleep” Said Hinata, taking her baby back into her arms. “It’s a little late for this little guy, we were waiting so you could meet”

“Sorry I was late, bye Boruto”

“I’m so proud of you, you know? You always wanted a family, and now you have one, it’s just so…” She was unable to continue, if she did, there would have been no stop to her crying, so she composed herself.

“I know Sakura-chan” Naruto answered.

Sasuke thought he couldn’t have been more wrong, after witnessing the whole interaction. It was obvious that they all had some very deep connection, but it was so far from what he had suspected he couldn’t help to feel embarrassed again. Why his mind went for the most impure explanation, he didn’t know.

And so, after introductions, dinner continued without his interference. Old friends catching up, and new acquaintances presented. They continued with drinks after the meal, and after a few glasses, Sasuke stood up and walked to the door.

“Are you leaving Sasuke, you haven’t said anything all night!” Naruto complained.

“No, I’m just going out for a smoke” He responded. He needed some air to clear his thoughts. So many things needed to be fix happened in only a few days, but the only thing he could seem to think of was Sakura. It’s so fucked up. He thought.

His train of thought was interrupted by the appearance of said girl behind him. “Smoking kills you know?” She said to him.

“Ah” he answered in confirmation and took another drag from his cigarette, before putting it down and stepping on it. Sasuke moved to face Sakura, he tried to organize a coherent sentence to word his apology, but she was too distracting. Her red crop top, and high wasted jeans showed a small portion of her waist he couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel under his touch. He ran his hand through his inky locks in exasperation.

“Listen Sasuke… I’m sorry” She said unexpectedly.

“YOU’RE sorry?” he asked. He looked at her, eyebrows raised in confusion.

“Yeah… I shouldn’t have punch you like that; it looks bad. I’m terribly sorry” she bowed a little as she continued. He didn’t even know what to say.

Sakura pulled a small container from a brown bag she was carrying and asked, “May I?”

He questioned her with his eyes. “It’s a pomade I made, it good against bruising, and it has a cooling effect to help with the pain”

He nodded his head yes, so she moved to coat her finger in the ointment and apply it gently to his face. He was, for once, glad because of the bruising, since the heat he felt on his face could only mean he was blushing madly. His heart threatening to beat out of his chest.

“Thank you.” The black-haired man said when she was finished. It felt so good to have her hands on him, he almost complained when she removed her touch. “You don’t have to apologize, it was my fault, I had no right calling you that”

“You’re right” She conceded. “But I’m sorry anyway, it was no excuse to hit you, violence is never the answer”

“Never?” He laughed at that. He could of at several situations where violence is the only answer, and he was sure Naruto would agree. But he didn’t voice his thoughts.

“I still deserved it though”

“Damn right you did” she agreed.  

“I’m sorry” He said. “and I shouldn’t have acted like I didn’t know you either, I just… didn’t know… what to say”

“It’s okay Sasuke-kun… it was a long time ago” The endearing suffix, made him smile, and brought his scrambling thoughts back together. It reminded him of simpler times, when he could act on his feelings.

And right then, he finally figured out, why he’d been so angry at Naruto’s displays of affection towards the pink haired girl. Sasuke knew he was jealous.

______________

Thank you so much for reading this if you still are, smut and infidelity are coming soon I promise. Tell me what you think, constructive criticism is always appreciated.