#the asks are closed at the moment of writing this so uh- *places a snotty plushie on the counter*

[ynscrazylife]

Hey !! i love ur writing style <3 i wanted to ask you if you could write a loki x reader where the reader and loki have been best friends for a long time now and after he faked his death in tdw he knocks on their door and the reader and loki have an argument and then they kiss?? maybe like the scene in crimson peak “you lied to me” “i did” “you told me you loved me” “i do” smth similar? :)

The Greatest Deception | loki angst fluff fic

Summary: After Loki reveals himself to be alive, Y/N has some choice words to say. Loki has a question.

Authors Note: Thanks for requesting! Also, I want to say that I fully support and acknowledge that Loki is genderfluid. Seeing as this fic was requested with Loki having he/him pronouns, I will use those pronouns. (Also, I didn’t know which pronouns you wanted me to write since you mentioned they for the reader but typically I use she/her, so lemme know if you want that edited)

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

MCU Masterlist #1 | MCU Masterlist #2 |  Main Masterlist 

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/someiconsx

“Lady Y/N?”

The voice was muffled through the door and the one in question rolled from her side and onto her stomach as she laid in her bed. A low groan emitted from the creature whose limbs were tangled in the blanket and sheets.

. . .

“Lady Y/N?”

A short knock-knock accompanied the repeating words, and Y/N had a feeling of that the lovely woman who she’d love to talk to at any other time wouldn’t stop until she replied.

She pulled herself into a sitting position, smoothed over her unruly hair, and finally pulled the covers up so her pajamas wouldn’t be seen and called out, “Come in!”

The woman opened the door and sent her a sheepish smile. “The All-Father has requested your present, ma’am,” she informed her.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Do you know the reason as to why?” She quizzed.

The woman spared a quick, darting glance at Y/N’s window. “Well, the All-Father has requested all of the palace’s royals and higher-ups to gather in the courtyard. He is gathering local citizens for a, ah, play, and more would like, in this words, his ‘most esteemed confidants to enjoy,’,” she answered, subtly bouncing her weight from one foot to the other.

Y/N thought for a moment. This was the first time she was hearing that the King was holding a play — not to mention, the fact that the last play (if you could even call it that, because by Heimdall’s recounting it was horrific) was held before any of the children of Odin were born.

Just thinking about that caused a twinge to hit her stomach and for it to twist up. Loki. Odin’s youngest child and the one that had most recently left her, as he sacrificed herself to save his vaillant brother, Prince Thor. It had been weeks, maybe even a month, since Y/N had heard the news and had been resorted to a lonely, saddened version of herself. Loki was her best friend, the person she trusted more than anything and—no, no, who was she kidding? He’s more than that, and he deserves to be remembered as more than that by her.

He’s also the one that she loves, and has loved for at least the past year when she realized it.

Nonetheless, she had taken many steps to get through the grief of Loki’s dead — as had his father — and she wasn’t going to let all her hard work crumble down on one, singular thought.

“Very well, then. Please inform the All-Father that I will be there shortly, thank you,” she said.

The woman nodded and bowed her head before exiting.

Once the door had been fully shut and she could hear footsteps no more, Y/N crossed over to her window and drew back the curtains, not having missed the look at said window.

The sunlight poured into her room but the stage was indeed sent. Rows of fine chairs sat with rows of fine people in them. In front, Odin stood with a red curtain drawn closed behind him. His arms were gesturing wildly and he had a big grin on his face as he gave his speech.

Despite the curiosity that itched into Y/N’s face, she pushed it aside. She had never seen the King conduct himself in such ways, but alas, everyone grieved differently. So, she closed the curtains and got dressed for the day ahead.

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

The moment Y/N stepped outside, she could’ve sworn that there was already long beads of sweat trailing down her skin. She let out a huff but journeyed on towards the courtyard, as this formal royal wear was necessary and she had no intention of pissing off Sir Snotty-Dickhead — as she called him (he had some fancy and long name she couldn’t remember, in her defense) — who was Odin’s right hand man.

By the time she got there, Odin was still rambling on with his speech, but his sudden notice of Y/N saved the guests from boredom.

“Aha, the guest of honor! Lady Y/N, herself,” Odin announced, bringing his hands together in a clap and gesturing for her to come toward him.

She betrayed herself and her cheeks involuntarily reddened as all eyes laid on her. She approached Odin and curtsied out of respect, but her mind was full of wonderings of why she, of all, would be singled out.

“I’m sure you all know who Lady Y/N is, yes?” He began, briefly pausing before continuing. “If you sadly do not, let me tell you. Lady Y/N had been a friend of the royal family, specifically my child, Loki’s—” the name caused her to suck in a sharp breath, “—and she was granted the title of Lady to uphold the image of the palace and to complete very important Asgardian duties.”

Once he stopped talking and the crowd clapped politely, Y/N took the opportunity she was presented before it’s door could close and quickly went and sat in her seat, the only seat not occupied yet, in the front row.

Odin then began speaking against whilst he walked to the side, “Speaking of my dear child Loki, this play that has been put together is one designed to honor him and his heroic sacrifice. Without further ado . . . ” He let his words trail off, and the red curtain pulled open.

Y/N’s face contorted into surprise at the words, not expecting this to take place. Again, she reminded herself, everyone grieved differently, so she decided to give it a chance. However, as the play went on, she was quick to realize that honoring Loki wasn’t the intention here. The horrid acting could be excused but Odin himself allowing this mockery of how Loki died? Of how he sacrificed himself? Well, with every second that passed, her face heated more and more — and not due to the sweat — and she grit her teeth, just barely refraining from yelling.

The worst part for her came though when the actor who played Loki did a dramatic reenactment of his sacrificed and the actor who played Thor did the worst fake crying ever. Y/N turned to the others, expecting them to be just as enraged as she was, but was floored to find that no—they were laughing. And not just that, but Odin was having himself a chuckle as well!

Her fingers tightly gripped the edges of her chair and she forced herself to look straight ahead, just about able to hold in her tears until the play was over and the actors bowed.

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

Afterwards, while everyone was standing and giving Odin rounds and rounds of praises, Y/N stayed rooted in her seat. She couldn’t just let this go by as if it were nothing, but she was struggling to compose herself to confront him.

After a couple minutes of going back-and-forth, she decided, screw composure. She didn’t have to be composed. She was allowed to be angry.

So, she stood up and marched straight for him.

“All-Father,” Y/N said through grit teeth, forcing herself to curtesy, “I request your company in private, if I may.”

It took Odin a moment to tear himself away from accepting his latest comment, but the way he quickly glanced over at Y/N, she knew that he had not noticed — or perhaps he did not care — the state she was in.

“My apologies, Lady Y/N, but should I depart now, I fear I shall upset my comrades!” Odin said, ending his comment in a boastful joy, which resulted in laughter and cheers.

He didn’t wait for her response before engaging in another conversation, and Y/N’s lips remained tightly shut until she decided to just go forth and let her stuffed-up emotions out.

“Fine. I will say it in front of everyone, then!” She said, firmly and loudly, gaining everyone’s attention. “That was a pathetic excuse to remember Loki . . . It was an insult! You mocked him, your own child! How could you even— I . . . I just don’t understand . . . He sacrificed himself for your son and for Asgard and this is how you repay him? God. I expected much, much more from you for him because I . . . Let’s just say that we both love Loki, in our own ways, and I-I . . . I am very disappointed.”

Wanting to flee from the tears that were now streaming down her face and from the silence that was pounding, she turned around and she walked away, the realization that she had just confessed her love in front of everyone hitting her.

“Lady Y/N!”

Odin’s words stopped her in her tracks, but she did not turn around. Just stood. Waited.

“He told Thor, before he passed, that he, uh . . . He loved you, too.”

Y/N stared straight ahead, her hand jutting out to grab the pillar next to her to steady herself.

Loki loved her?

She didn’t stop the tears from coming this time. She let them, and the sobs, overwhelm her.

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

“Lady Y/N?”

The voice and the knock were much more stiff than they were this morning.

“Come in.”

Her response was devoid of emotion, much more curt than it was this morning.

The same woman turned the door’s knob and opened it, sending Y/N, who was curled up on her bed, head nestled into her knees, a wary look. “The All-Father has requested your presence at his quarters,” she said.

Y/N let out a small huff, in no mood to talk to the King after what had happened. She forced her head up and gazed boredom at the woman. “Is it an emergency?” She deadpanned.

The woman looked around the room and by her lack of response, Y/N knew that either she didn’t know or didn’t want to say.

She sighed. “I will be there shortly,” she said.

The woman nodded and wordlessly left.

After she did, Y/N stood up and went in front of her mirror, taking in her appearance. Her once brushed hair was now frizzy and in knots and her eyes were puffy and red. Angrily, she practically tore the hairbrush through her hair and dabbed at her eyes with makeup until the red could be seen no more. She had no intention of letting him see her this way.

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

Screw formalities, Y/N thought, as she walked straight into Odin’s quarters which composed of a small living room, a bedroom down the hall, an office, and a bathroom. She didn’t bother to curtsy or announce her presence.

When he finally and gradually turned around from whatever he was doing, a slight look of shock crossed his features, before he replaced it with a warm smile. “Y/N!” He said, but quickly corrected himself, “Lady Y/N.”

Y/N frowned and crossed her arms. “I hope that you have called me here to apologize,” she said, an icy edge to her voice.

Odin nonetheless looked at her kindly. “In a way, yes,” he vaguely said, before a magical transformation underwent before her.

His wrinkles disappeared, his beard disappeared, his grey hair turned jet black, and his clothes transformed into his usual wear.

No longer was the All-Father standing in front of her, but her best friend. The one she loved.

Taken by utter shock, Y/N instinctively stumbled back, her jaw dropping and her eyes widening. “What the hell is this?” She gasped out, not wanting to believe it at first. It was a cruel trick — it must be! There was no way.

“It’s me,” the mischievous deity said, a rare softness to his voice and in his eyes. He took a step forward, but then stopped himself. “I never died, I only impersonated my father.”

Y/N stared at him, angry tears coming to her eyes once more. “How?” She forced out, thinking that maybe she was dreaming. “Why?”

Loki looked around, slightly dumbfounded, as if he hadn’t expected anyone to question him. “I wanted the throne,” he answered, as if it were obvious and a perfectly acceptable reason.

Y/N stared at him as if he had grown two heads. To her, he might as well have.

“Oh, really? So you take over your father, trick everyone - me, your brother - into believing that you’re dead, you banish Sif . . . All because you wanted the goddamn throne?” She cried.

The cluelessness left his eyes and replaced itself with guilt, regret pooling inside him. He looked down, shoulders falling with a sigh.

“I’ve felt guilty tricking you ever since it had all went down. I wanted to tell you but, honestly, a part of me didn’t think you’d be that upset over my death. But you were really, so upset and I . . . I was lost. I didn’t know what to do. All I wanted to do was hug you and tell you that it was fine, that I was here, but I thought I’d screw up your emotions and hurt you even more,” he admitted.

Y/N just looked at him, her frown growing deeper. “That’s an awful excuse,” she hissed out, words laced with venom.

Loki immediately snapped his head up to look at her and his gaze held desperateness. “It’s not an excuse,” he said quickly. “It shouldn’t be. I’m . . . I’m so sorry. The last thing I ever wanted to was to trick you, and . . . I did. But today was the final straw. I couldn’t continue like that.”

Y/N took a step forward, having an inner battle in herself on whether or not to forgive him. “You lied to me,” she reiterated bluntly.

Loki nodded guiltily. “I did,” he agreed in a small voice.

She took a pause, taking in a deep breath. “You told me you loved me,” she added.

There was a brief moment of silence before Loki said, in the same small way but a little more firm now, “I do.”

Y/N kept walking, not even fully sure or convinced of what she was doing, but knowing that she needed to do it, until she was standing just inches away from him. They looked at each other for a couple moments, neither saying anything, until Y/N wrapped her arms around Loki. He returned the embrace.

“Never do that to me again!” She yelled through the tears that were now coming. God, was she tired of crying. Especially today.

Loki hugged her tighter, his own tears falling. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, and repeated that over, and over, and over again. “I’m an idiot.”

Y/N leaned back and cupped his face with her hands. The love she had for him overwhelmed her pain, and more than anything she needed him now. Besides, she could see his guilt. She could see the truth shining in his eyes. He wouldn’t do anything like this again, because he loved her. And she loved him.

“At least you’re self-aware,” she whispered through a sniff, taking a page out of his book with her joking remark. Before he could quip back (and she was sure he’d have an excellent one), she leaned forward and captured his lips in his a kiss. Loki smiled against her lips and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Permanent Taglist: @natasharomanoffismywife @hehehehannahthings @paulawand @blackbat2020 @cerberus-spectre @marrymemcgrath @celestialbarnes @kathryndimitrescu @snipyloulou @big-galaxy-chaos @cc13723things @ycfwmalise14 @unexpected-character  (could not tag)  @passionswift

MCU Taglist: @stephanieromanoff @summerlovingbaby @ineffablebean @okkulta @procrastinatingsapphictrash @prettysbliss @caseyfish @sarahp-stan @thewidowsghost @basiclesbianbitch @mycosmicparadise @kidswhofightmonsters @xtraordinaryfangrl @peggycarter-steverogers @username23345 @ima-gi--na-tion @yori-nakajima @hi-i-1 @mmmmokdok @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @mads-weasley @tenaciousperfectionunknown @afraid-to-be-me @lilclownx @acertainredhead @natromanoffxox @lilymurphy03 @thanossexual @avengersz-biotch @kozumekoi  @mjaudrey @un-name-d @leyannrae @buckyandstevesbitch @kuzomekou-blog​

[flouncingwiz-sevsnape]

Broom Closet Antics

Overview: The first time you ever saw Severus Snape was during your tour of the Slytherin dormitory and he was introduced as your head of house. However, today was the first time you ever saw Severus Snape in a different light, during the middle of your seventh year at Hogwarts. Once a dark intimidating figure never to be crossed, you gradually began to find other characteristics of him a bit more striking...

A/N: This is my first post and fanfic, so don’t set expectations too high. I thought I’d just write a quick one-shot. I am taking requests if people like this one. 

Snape X Reader (student)

Warnings: smut

As you and your fellow NEWT potions students huddled around your cauldrons, waiting for Professor Snape’s famous entrance, your thoughts began to wander to today’s Quidditch match. Hufflepuff against Ravenclaw. It had been all your fellow housemates had talked about, but frankly you couldn’t care less. Sure, Quidditch was an important part of Hogwarts, but if the match didn’t involve Slytherin, then it really didn’t matter. Just then you were roused from your thoughts as the dungeon door crashed open and Snape stormed in, his cloak billowing famously. It was breathtaking that he could command the whole room without even trying. Your pulse quickened as he brushed past your table and a faint scent of pine washed over you. 

Maybe it was because all you could think about was screwing your fuck buddy- Marcos- next period or maybe it was because of some other reason, but as Snape began divulging instructions, the only thing you could focus on was his slightly noticeable bulge, peeking out from below his cloak. Once again your pulse quickened as graphic thoughts flashed across your mind. Oh Merlin’s beard, stop! You shook your head and pushed those thoughts aside, though you couldn’t help but notice a slight beating between your legs.

You’d never been one for substantial relationships, at least not at this stage of your life. It went against your main principles, so you’d primarily kept all relationships throughout your time at Hogwarts strictly sexual. Most of the time, nobody complained. That’s all the guys wanted anyways, so you often found yourself engaged in sexual activities in your spare time. Some of your friends judged you a little bit, but you didn’t care at all- you were top of your class and a model student, so what if you enjoyed getting off with random wizards every now and then? 

As you worked through the instructions written in angry cursive on the board, your potion progressed marvellously. Naturally, you finished way before anybody else in your class, so you poured your brew into a vial and brought it up to Snape’s desk. He was writing on some kid’s test, furiously scribbling angry Xs all over. Clearing your throat and you tossed your hair back and said “here you go, sir.” He barely lifts his head to acknowledge you, so you set your potion down on his desk, eyes beginning to wander down to his dick. Snape’s previously unnoticeable bulge had now been accentuated by his pants tightening around it. Just by looking at it, your heartbeat quickened in your chest and aroused somewhere a bit lower. Pausing for a moment too long, Snape lifted his head fully, catching your line of sight. Narrowing his eyes, he quickly shifted his cloak over his dick and angrily asked “can I help you, Miss y/l/n?”  

Quickly averting your eyes, you felt your cheeks redden and you tried to mumble something before hurrying back to your table. What were you doing? You scold yourself. Grabbing a book and furiously trying to avoid eye contact with anybody, realising that you could not keep your thoughts straight. All you could think about was Snape’s bulge and what it would be like to have his dick inside of you. Getting a little wet, you force yourself to stop thinking about that and promise yourself some release next period with Marcos- although he’s not quite the person you’d prefer… 

Snape had been having a peculiarly annoying day. He was late for class because some insolent first year decided that today, of all days, he would become tragically homesick. It’s one thing being detained by some snotty kid for fifteen minutes, it’s made ten times worse by the fact that he had to… comfort the despicable creature. By the time he arrived in his NEWT class, he was not in a good mood. And on top of that, his pants had shrunk in the wash and were constantly riding up in the most uncomfortable manner. At least he had the reassurance that this class of advanced students would not be total dunderheads. Snape was grading some pathetic excuses of tests for a while when one of his most successful students, y/n, walked up to him. He had always thought of you as well rounded, but recently he’d been shocked by your beauty. You placed your potion down on his table, but didn’t walk away. Initially, paying you no mind, Snape casually glanced up and saw you looking down at his dick. Cursing his pants under his breath, he adjusted his cloak and snapped at you. Snape watched you hurry back to your seat and continued to watch as you shifted around in your seat the remainder of class… 

Every now and then your gaze flickered up to the front of the room where Professor Snape had been staring you down. His cold gaze and seductive smirk provided it very difficult for you to think of him not screwing you right here, right now. When class was finally dismissed, you were the first one out, heart racing. 

After you drop your books off in your room, you dash into the Slytherin common room, frantically looking for Marcos. Right now all you need is a good pounding and then your thoughts of Snape will disappear, you halfheartedly try to convince yourself. Finally when he strolls lazily through the door, you rush up to him. “Marcos, are you free? I really, really need to get laid. Now.” 

Lust flashes through his eyes briefly, but he shrugs his shoulders. “Sorry y/n, I can’t right now. We’re all headed to the Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw match. I’ll be around after, if you want.” 

“Ugh. No, Marcos. Go have fun, thanks for nothing.” You frustratedly shove past him and into the corridors. Suddenly such a sexual desire has taken hold of you that you have no idea how to calm it. Pacing aimlessly through the hallway, you suddenly had an idea. If everyone is going to be at the match, then you can just satisfy yourself. 

You hastily dash into the nearest broom cupboard and wait a few moments, till you're sure the coast is clear. After a few minutes of silence, you slide your skirt and panties down and close your eyes. The first image that pops into your head is Snape’s immaculate bulge, evidence of his huge dick. You start throbbing and instantly are wet. Biting your lip, you slide your hand down to your clit and start rubbing slowly and sensually, a soft moan escaping your lips. Your thoughts shift to you being bent over Snape’s desk by him. You imagine him ramming into you from behind as you slide two fingers into yourself. “Ahh,” you moan with pleasure. You start increasing your pace, thinking of Snape whispering your name into your ear. Just then you manage to stumble on a bucket and brooms and other appliances crash about. You freeze, holding your breath. Surely someone must have heard that…  

Snape was on his way to the Quidditch match when he heard a clatter from inside a broom closet he was passing. Merlin’s beard, I hate Peeves, he thought as he raised his wand, approaching the door. In one swift motion he jerked open the door, expecting to see a meddlesome poltergeist, but instead coming face to face with a half naked student. “Y/n. What on earth is going on?” His gaze flashed down to where your fingers were still inside yourself, before flicking back up.

You stood there, absolutely mortified, as Snape glared incredulously at you from the corridor. “Oh, hi Professor. I was… uh… well you see-”

“Get out here. Fully clothed. One hundred points from Slytherin- if you apologise. Five hundred if you don’t!” He was seething, but all you could notice was that a small tent had formed in his pants. The sight of you must have turned him on, at least a little. You couldn’t help but keep rubbing your clit as you opened your mouth to speak again. 

“Sir. That’s hardly fair when you're the reason I’m here.” Snape looked totally taken aback.

“I- What?” 

“Well you see, Sir, I saw your dick bulging out during potions today, and it turned me on so much that I just had to come here and get off.” He pressed his lips together for a second before harshly grabbing your arm and leaning in closely.

“What are you suggesting, Miss y/l/n?”

“Well, Sir, all I’m saying is that your company would be so much appreciated.” You paused to spread your legs apart, Snape’s eyes immediately flashed to where your hand lingered. He jerked himself away from you, a look of incredulity flashed across his face.

“Absolutely not, the audacity-” but you cut him off by reaching for his, now completely, tented pants. He clenched his jaw as a low moan escaped his throat. 

“Please, Sir? Nobody will ever find out.” He looked left and right before stepping into the broom closet with you and wrenching your hands off of him.

“Do you even realise how foolish your behaviour is?” His eyes glittered dangerously

“I don’t care. I just want you.” You lurch towards him again, but he grabs your hands and presses you up against the wall, face close to yours.

“I will comply with your wish solely because I cannot allow students to get off in broom closets, alone.” A sensual smirk tugged at the corner of his lips before he continued, “however, Miss y/l/n, you will do exactly as I say because this needs to be as efficient as possible in lieu of the Quidditch match.”

You nod your head slowly and bite your lip, hardly able to contain yourself. “Say it. Out. Loud,” he snapped.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” He flicked his wrist and your robes flew off of you, crumpling in the corner. In seconds his lips were pressed against yours, hot breath against your neck. You exhale a soft moan and grab frantically for his belt, the spot between your legs heating up. His hands start on your breasts, teasing your nipple between two fingers. You moan in response, grabbing his hard shaft instantly. A low rumble escapes his lips, his breath is hot on your neck. Snape slides his hands down your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. 

When he reaches the spot between your legs, he hesitates and kisses you, hard. You feel your body melt into him as he slides one finger in and pumps it. You tighten your grip on his dick in reply. He moans and slips in a second finger, pumping faster now. Your breathing quickens and you start to slide your hand back and forth in an almost frantic motion. He bites your lips and you contract around Snape’s fingers as he curls them ever so slightly and pushes in harder. His breathing is hoarse now and you’re calling out his name, already so close to your climax.

Suddenly he stops, fingers still buried deep in you. Your body quivers in anticipation, but you continue to rub him, slowly and sensually. “Mmmf… are you… ah… ready y/n?” His low voice drawls in between grunts of pleasure. You don’t reply, but instead spread your legs apart and pull his waist near. Hastily, Snape positions himself at your entrance. “The match is bound to be over. Make it quick or there will be severe consequences,” and with that he thrusts himself into you. Your eyelids flutter and your whole body is filled with warm pleasure.

He feels exactly as you’d fantasised, the way he fills you up perfectly. “You’re so big.” You say as he rolls his hips back and forth, every stroke bringing you pure satisfaction.

“And you’re so tight,” he groans, gripping your hips, “Such a tight little cunt…” He begins to rock into you faster and harder, grinding until his dick finds that spot deep inside of you and you scream in pleasure. He grabs your jaw and presses his mouth onto yours briefly before scolding you. “Silence.” 

You’re about to come and you feel yourself tighten around his big dick, his breath catching in reaction. “I’m close…” you manage in between ragged gasps of pleasure.

He groans and thrusts harder into you, rubbing your clit with one hand. “Mmm so am I.”

Your breath hitches as you reach your climax, feeling as though your whole body is spilling into pure bliss. “Ah… Severus… mmmf.” You’re panting in his ear now and he continues to pump for a few more seconds, each stroke bringing a deep moan.

Suddenly, Snape’s eyes snap open and he starts to pull out of you, his cock pulsing. “No, stay inside me.” You slide him back into you and start licking his strong jaw, his breath ragged now.

He begins to frantically pump into you, a low moan rumbling in his throat. “Oh fuucckk…  I’m coming,” he groans as you feel his hot load fill you up. 

You both pull back, panting heavily, and after a few moments Snape waves his wand to clean things up. 

“This was completely inappropriate and to be never spoken of again. Do I make myself clear?”

 Grinning you whisper “Crystal” into his ear and kiss him briefly before sauntering out of the broom cabinet.

[pixiegrl]

For the prompts, 29 and 15 with Lashton? Love your writing!

Hello anon! This was for a prompt on tumblr for Lashton, in a waiting room with “Is there anything I can do to help?” It ended up being goofier and fluffier than intended but @calumsclifford gave me the idea and I ran with it. Enjoy!

As always it is also on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26431231

Calum hiccups and immediately starts crying again, loud broken sobs. Luke tips his head, counting to 10 and willing himself to not just, get up and leave Calum. Regrettably, Luke is the only one with a car and he can’t just leave Michael at a hospital. He also can’t just abandon Calum here because then Michael will have to deal with an upset Calum on top of the injury and Luke will never hear the end of the whining.

Calum’s sprawled over Luke’s lap wailing at the top of his lungs. Everyone in the ER waiting room is shooting them concerned looks, but it’s 2am on a Monday so no one is actually coming over to check on them.

Luke’s counting to another set of 10 because Calum won’t stop whimpering about Michael’s “never going to recover” and “it’s all my fault,” when Luke hears someone clear their throat next to him. Luke glances over, immediately embarrassed that there’s an attractive guy with light brown curls, hazel eyes, and an old All Time Low shirt with his hands shoved into his pockets staring at the two of them. The one time Luke’s got a snotty Calum in his lap, his curls look flat and greasy, and he’s exhausted would be the time that a hot guy with good music taste comes over.

“I couldn’t help noticing that your friend seems very, uh, upset. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Michael is dying!” Calum wails, flinging himself further into Luke’s lap. The guy looks alarmed, taking a step back.

“He’s exaggerating! Michael is fine! He fell off a skateboard trying to do a “cool trick” and landed on his wrist funny. He thought it might be broken, but he’s going to be fine Cal! I’ve been trying to tell you that for the last 3 hours,” Luke huffs, trying to smack Calum upside the head. At any other time, Calum would have latched on to the fact that a hot guy is talking to Luke and tried to drop hints that Luke is very single and very bisexual and would love a boyfriend. Now, Calum’s too worried that Michael’s at death’s door over a small enough injury.

“He’ll never be able to play guitar again!”

“In 6 weeks, he’ll be perfectly able to play guitar Calum.”

The guy snorts and tries to hastily cover it up with a cough, when Luke looks over at him.

“What are you even doing in an ER at 2am on a Monday?”

“Oddly enough, something similar. My brother Harry tripped off his skateboard and landed on his face. Thinks he might have broken his nose, so here we are,” Ashton says, waving his hand around the waiting room. He pauses before sitting down a few seats away from Luke.

Luke feels a spike of heat in his chest. The cute guy is sitting near him! Calum is not scaring him away. Maybe he’s Luke’s soulmate. Wait, now Luke sounds like Michael and Calum and he refuses to be them.

“Is he going to be okay?”

“This isn’t even the worst thing that’s happened. Michael got burned once, totally got half his face and his eyebrows and Calum was inconsolable. I think Michael ended up having to hold him while the doctor was trying to bandage him up. Whenever Michael gets an injury, Calum acts like Michael’s on death’s door.”

“Because he is Luke! How can you say you’re his best friend and then just disrespect him like this?” Calum yells, muffled by the fact that his face is pressed into Luke’s jeans. Luke rolls his eyes. The guy smiles and Luke feels his heart skip a beat. Is he sharing a moment with a stranger in a waiting room? Is he in a rom-com?

“Ashton.”

“Hm?”

“My name. It’s Ashton. Since Calum here said your name, I figured it was only fair that you know mine too.”

“Well nice to meet you Ashton. What do you do when you’re not taking care of brothers with broken noses?”

“Taking care of little sisters who are just the right age where the wrong nail polish color is the end of the world, working at a coffee shop, playing drums.”

Luke perks up, “We’re a band. The three of us. Michael’s guitar, Cal’s bass, and I sing. Play guitar too, but not as good as Michael. We’re looking for a drummer.”

“You guys any good?”

“You could come see us practice for yourself.”

Ashton hums. He gives Luke a once over. Luke goes a little red, ducking his head to stare intensely at the back of Calum’s head. God, he needs Michael here to handle this Calum’s a terrible wingman. Next time, Luke’s going to break Calum’s wrist so he has Michael with him as a wingman.

“I don’t just give out my services for free you know. Drumming is alot of work and I deserve something in payment.”

“Oh? I mean, I work in a bookstore, Michael’s in a music shop, and Calum teaches football we don’t have like alot of money to go around. It’s why we don’t have a drummer yet.”

“You’re in luck because I’m a cheap drummer. All I ask for is a date with a very cute, blonde singer.”

Luke’s startled. Luke’s so startled he’s not sure he’s still breathing and he considers asking the nurse at reception if he’s still alive. There’s no way Ashton’s asking Luke out on a date. This is not happening at 2am on a Monday in an ER waiting room.

“Uhhhh, I would have to check my work schedule. I'm very busy selling books to bored teenagers and very excited children,” Luke says. He’s staring at a point over Ashton’s left shoulder, hoping that if he doesn’t make full eye contact with Ashton he won’t do or say something embarrassing.

“Well, I’m also busy selling coffee to angry businessmen and stressed college students. I think the best thing we could do is exchange our phone numbers so that way we could text each other about our schedules and set up a band practice day. Or a date. Whichever comes first. But just so you know, I know a really nice pizza place around here that I love to take a certain singer to.”

Luke’s too shocked to argue with Ashton. He simply nods, taking his phone out of his pocket and handing it over to Ashton, unlocked and everything. Ashton smiles, entering his information and texting his own phone before handing it back. Luke notices that he saved his name with a little drum next to it. As if Luke has more than one Ashton in his phone that he wants to text on the regular.

They chat for a bit about music, their jobs. Luke tells Ashton about Michael and Calum, that they’ve been friends for close to 5 years now, that Michael and Luke didn’t get along at first until music became involved. Luke shares that Michael and Calum have been dating for just as long, that Luke’s painful single (not for lack of Michael’s trying to find Luke someone). Ashton tells Luke about his siblings, his mother, that he’s just broken up with his boyfriend (he looks at Luke shyly when he says it and Luke grins at the idea that Ashton wants to go on a date with him already).

Luke loses track of time until the doors leading to the hospital wing swings open and Michael comes out, all pink hair and disheveled clothing, brace on his left wrist and a lollipop sticks out of his mouth, grinning around it. Calum lets out a cry that Luke can only imagine wives make when their husbands return from war and runs towards Michael flinging himself into Michael’s arms crying. Michael looks startled, but unsurprised, patting Calum on the shoulder, leading him back to Luke.

“The doctor said it’s just a sprain. I gotta keep it in the brace for a few weeks and come back for a check-up, but it’s nothing serious,” Michael says.

“But it could have been!” Calum wails again. Michael rolls his eyes, fond, pressing a kiss to Calum’s forehead.

“Considering the crying your boyfriends doing, I thought you were on death's door,” Ashton says. Michael looks over at Ashton confused.

“Who are you?”

“The man Luke abandoned me for in your time of need,” Calum says, glaring at Luke. Luke throws his hands up in mock surrender. Michael looks like he’s fighting back the urge to laugh.

“Ashton. Apparently, I’m Luke’s new boyfriend.”

“He’s our new drummer! We’re not dating! We haven’t even been on a date yet,” Luke rushes out, leaning over to smack Ashton. Ashton lets out a delighted laugh. Michael’s grinning maniacally now. Luke needs new friends.

“I would call this a first date.”

“You’re not allowed to call Michael’s trauma a date,” Calum protests.

“If it gets Luke a first boyfriend, it could be my funeral and they could call it a date,” Michael says. Calum lets out another wail and collapses onto Michael’s shoulder.

“I feel like you missed the part where I said he was our new drummer.”

“Oh I heard that but it’s not nearly as important as you getting a boyfriend.”

Luke jumps up starting to usher Michael and Calum out of the waiting room, “Well it’s 3am on a Monday and we have to go now because you are very injured and we should all sleep,”

“You should call Luke he’s very free all the time for dates!” Michael calls over his shoulder. Luke really needs new friends.

(Ashton still texts him at 5am, letting him know that Ashton’s brother is fine and that Ashton is also very free any time for both band practice and dates.

“You should send him a dick pic.”

“I’m not sending him a dick pic, Michael.”

“How else will he know you’re interested?”

“Are you breaking up with me for the waiting room guy Luke abandoned me for?”

“Not when I don’t know what his dick looks like and I’ve seen yours...on second thought, Luke send Ashton a pic of Calum’s dick instead.”

“I’m quitting this band,” Luke moans, flopping face first into the couch.

“Hey, if I hadn’t injured myself you wouldn’t have a boyfriend,” Michael protests.

His phone beeps. Ashton’s sent him a little heart emoji. Okay fine, maybe Michael and Calum aren’t terrible friends. It did get Luke a date with a cute guy.)

[bisexualterror]

Five crows Silver for Grace and Nova ^.^

Five Crows Silver: I’ll write our muses’ first meeting in the first person.

I probably shouldn’t be here, but I was bored and curious but mostly just really bored.

I walked on my tip toes as I explored the Salvatore boarding house, a giddy smile on my face. It was in the middle of a school and work day so hopefully whatever its current owner was doing, he wouldn’t be doing it here.

I should probably be in school, but third grade was so boring and Caroline was out with a cold that was going around school and that made it even more boring so here I was, a rebel at nine.

I twirled around the room, taking in the really high ceilings - or maybe I was just really small? - with wide eyes before dashing towards the infamous living room.

Maybe I could reenact some scenes?

Ugh but as good as I was at remembering specific moments and trivia, I was not good at remembering lines.

Still I grabbed a decanter with both hands and shakily began to pour whatever was in the thing - it was brown and it smelled weird, probably whiskey - into a nearby tumbler.

What? I wasn’t actually gonna drink any, it was just a prop I was going to use for the scene I had in mind.

I grabbed the tumbler from the tray, swirling the glass, and spun around over dramatically. “Hello, brother,” I said, a smirk on my face as I try and fail to mock a deep voice.

I made a face, tapping my finger on my chin in thought. “Hmm, no, something’s missing... maybe I’m in the wrong room?”

I distinctly remember someone falling off a balcony in that scene, it was definitely the wrong room. Maybe I could cry and throw the glass on the wall, one of them definitely did that at least once over Elena. Or was that Katherine?

“...What are you doing here?” Came a quiet voice, coming out thin air, startling me and making me drop the heavy glass from my hands.

I instinctively tried to stop it with my Magic, which, you know, probably was the worst idea I’ve had all day but, thankfully I was still inept at controlling my powers and the thing still obeyed the rules of gravity and dropped to the floor.

It hadn’t broke, thankfully, the rug softening to fall, but the rug now had a lovely brown stain to it... Shit what if Mr. Salvatore made me pay for that?

Uughhh, I wanna be able to go to college one day and that thing looked...pricey.

“Whoops?” I said, turning to look at the girl standing in the doorway as she looked at me.

Was Zach suddenly taking boarders again? Huh, that seemed like a risque move considering what happened the last time people had boarded here. Not to mention the dude was a total recluse and seemed to like talking to people less than I did.

“Who are you?” The girl spoke up again, this time more firmly.

I laughed, forcibly, and awkwardly as I tried to come up with an excuse that wouldn’t get the cops called on me. Liz would take me to Grams and Grams would give me the dressing down of a lifetime before assigning me yucky chores.

“Hi... names Nova, I uh, a...had to use a, uh, bathroom?” I was usually a better liar, this was honestly just embarrassing and the girl, whoever she was, seemed to think so too as she scrunched her eyebrows.

Before the tiny brunette could question me more, she sneezed, one, two, three times, and I blinked as I finally took in her appearance; a red nose running, hair a mess, thick zebra pajamas and wrapped in a blanket that was a little too much for this summer heat.

“Are you... ok?” I asked, tentatively stepping towards the girl when it looked like she was moments away from passing out.

“’M fine,” she obviously lied.

“Yeah... sure. Where are.. your parents?” I played with the straps of my backpack digging into my shoulder as I waited for an answer, nervously watching the swaying girl.

“My dad went to get syrup,” came the mumbled reply.

I assumed two things, first that syrup meant like not pancake syrup but like cough syrup. And two, that she didn’t have a mom or another dad or guardian present in her life since she didn’t mention any.

Having heard enough, I grabbed her hand and pulled her further into the room, ignoring the protests that came out of her mouth, I gently led her to sit down on the couch.

“You still haven’t told me what -” a sneeze here, this time way too close to my face for comfort. “- you were doing, playing with daddy’s adult drinks.”

Adult drinks? Oh! Yeah the liquor.

“I wasn’t gonna drink it, just wanted to play with it,” I mumbled, blushing as I placed another blanket over the girl. “What’s your name?”

The girl stared at the knitted blanket now wrapping her in like a burrito, hesitating before replying, “Grace.”

“Hi, Grace!” I said, a big smile on my face that was returned weakly. “I, uh, can I stay here with you, like, until your dad comes back?”

“...ok,” she eventually replied, already half asleep.

I hummed, before turning on my heel and running to the kitchen, dropping my bag somewhere along the way.

Orange juice. Orange juice. I searched the fridge for orange juice but came up empty. Who lives in a house with a snotty nosed kid and doesn’t have freaking orange juice?

I ended up finding three oranges in the back of the fridge and sighed heavily, but found a step stool and a citrus squeezer thing and got to work and tried to make some orange juice for my new friend.

By the time I was finished with everything, my tiny arms and legs were tired and I was ready to go to bed for the next thirty years. But I felt accomplished as I came back to the living room with a tray of canned chicken noodle soup, crackers and freshly squeezed orange juice - it was only like half a glass, but it was something.

I set the tray down on the couch next to Grace, who was fast asleep, and who I rudely poked in the cheek until she woke up. No way was all of my hard work going to waste.

I watched in amusement as she kind of just squinted her eyes up at me, but the sneeze that came kinda ruined what I think was supposed to be a glare.

I handed her a klennex that I had found in one the room’s upstairs - I think it was the Stefan Salvatore’s bathroom! - before forcing her to hold the precious glass of orange juice I had spent years making.

“What’s this?” She mumbled.

“Orange juice....” I said like it was obvious, and it was, painfully so.

“Where...did you get it?”

“I made it!”

Grace only hummed before reluctantly taking a sip of it when she let out a cough.

I sat down next to her, all but in her face as I awaited judgement. I sighed when she drank all of it without complaint.

“You know how to turn on the stove?” Grace asked when I began to spoon feed her soup.

Neither Grams or dad let me touch a stove but, what they didn’t know wouldn’t get me killed.

“Yeah! It’s super easy, I’ll teach you one day!”

Grace didn’t say anything, but I could see a smile!

Score!

[skiesoftwilight]

Need Over Want (Vergil)

I’m embarrassed for writing this. It’s like...really bad. I told you all that I can’t write anything remotely spicy, not even semi-spicy lmao. Vergil isn’t the character that I can personally see and write spicy things for, but the request I was given kinda hinted at that, at least that’s what I seen in my head. Anyways, Anon, sorry for it being so late, and I hope you somewhat enjoy! (If you don’t like it, I can always try again lol).

Requested by: Anon

Hi hii. Could you do 17 with Vergil (DMC 5)? I really love your writing thank you!

Prompt Inspiration (#17 -  “I know what I want, when I want it. So get over here.”)

Word Count: 1674

Warnings: none, I guess, (even for a semi-spicy piece lmao)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Kiss me.” You sighed, running a lazy hair through your already disheveled hair.

“What?” Vergil turned to look at you, his mercury gaze narrowed at your sudden demand.

“You heard me,” You raised your hands in front of you, clapping them together in a snotty way with your chin tilted upwards and your eyes closed; the small, goofy, grin that crawled onto your lips was hard to suppress. “Chop-chop.”

“No...you’re not in your right mind…” Vergil folded his arms across his chest, shaking his head in disapproval at what you were asking, or more like demanding, of him. “Tomorrow, when your - “

“I know what I want, when I want it. So...” You stared him down from across the room; your gaze was so intense, Vergil had almost looked away from your darkened (E/C) irises. A sly smile appeared on your lips while you let your relaxed body be supported by your arms planted on the bed behind you, “Get. Over. Here.”

Vergil remained silent while he observed you. Your whole behavior and body language had changed within the last five minutes and he couldn’t help but smirk at the little glint in your eye that made him obey your little command. 

He came to stand by the bed, looking down at you with a questioning gaze. Without speaking, you grabbed his wrist and tugged him down to sit on the bed. Sitting beside you, he turned his head to look at you with a confused stare.

“What are you staring at me for?” You questioned him. “I’m waiting.”

Vergil’s smirk grew, yet he didn’t move from his spot. He knew what you were trying to do, but he wouldn’t give in to your wants; he would only cater to your needs and what you needed at the moment were aspirin and a good night's rest. “Why can you listen? I said no.”

“You aren’t the only stubborn one in this relationship.” You insisted. Standing up from the bed, you came to stand in front of him. The little smirk on your lips talked for you as you placed both your hands on his shoulders before resting your knees on both sides of his hips, straddling him as he sat on the bed. Vergil remained silent as you brought your forehead against his and let your lips graze his all while staring into his blank, mercury gaze.

You paused, thinking that if you waited long enough, maybe...just maybe he would be the one to initiate the inevitable kiss, but you were wrong; the only reaction you got from him was a slight scoff and the slight upturn of the corners of his lips. You waited for a split second longer, but your need overpowered your want. You grazed his lips with your before pressed them firmly against his.

Vergil let his hands grip onto your hips to steady the both of you while you both fought to be the dominant one in expressing your need for one another. Your arms snaked around his neck to deepen the kiss. A light chuckle and a faint smile on your part came from you relishing in the fact that you were able to Vergil to something you wanted...even if you had to initiate it yourself...it was a start.

Vergil’s hands began to slowly slip under the hem of your blouse, letting his calloused fingertips drag over your soft skin. The small action pulled a small moan from your lips and you could feel his lips form his smirk in the middle of your kiss. Breaking away, you aggressively pushed him on his back, his upper body bounce slightly on the mattress. 

“I’m not backing down.” Vergil stated, looking up at you as you stared down at him with your mischievous smile. 

“I’m not either.” 

Your fingers gripped the hem of your blouse and pulled it over your head and flung it across the dimly lit room. Vergil’s void gaze remained enraptured with your mischievous one; he knew exactly what you were trying to do but he refused to let you win; his willpower was stronger than you knew and he was making his own plan.

Your hands wandered towards your back, fiddling with the clasp of your bra. Before you could unclasp one hook, Vergil’s hands suddenly reached upwards to grab your arms and pulled you down to lay on his chest; the sudden actions made you squeal in surprise and excitement as you placed both of your elbows on either side of his head to get another look at him.

Before you could say some snarky remark about his actions, he pulled your face towards him and caught your parted lips in a kiss. You melted into his kiss as hands roamed up and down your back; he dragged his calloused fingertips lazily up an down your spine, giving you goosebumps with every touch of his fingers on your warm skin. 

Vergil’s hands came to rest on your backside while you tried to take control of the situation. Your lips began to slowly stray from his, leaving a trail of kisses that trailed down his jaw. Not a sound was heard from Vergil, by your actions and it irked you, but with his fingers slipping into the edge of your pants, tugging on the fabric, it told you that you were doing something right. You pulled your face away from his, looking into his gaze with a smirk that matched his very own.

A small laugh fell from your lips as you thought that you finally got Vergil where you wanted him. You began to move off of Vergil to remove your pants, but he wrapped his arms around your body rolled over so your back was pressed firmly against the bed while he hovered over you. 

“I knew you would come around.” You stared up at him, a chuckle that left your lips broke the silence between you two. Vergil was surprising you with all of those sudden movements that you were beginning to think that maybe it was only you that could control him.

Vergil leaned down to press his lips against your once more, with a bit more aggressiveness. While you got drunk on his kisses, his hands were torturing you on how slow they moved across your warm skin; he slowly dragged up and down your sides, squeezing your hips as he pressed his own body against yours, pulling a lustful moan from your very lips. His hand came to rest on the front of your pants once again, this time fiddling with the button for a few moments before finally freeing it from its place.

A bubbly giggle left your lips as Vergil began to leave a trail of kisses down your own jaw. His kisses grew soft on your jaw, but once his lips met the skin on the nape of your neck, his aggressiveness returned, much more intense than before. His teeth grazed against the delicate skin before biting slightly and sucking softly; his very actions caused a bout of moans to tumble out of your mouth as you pressed your body against his.

You pushed him away to quickly take off your pants and with that he helped you, pulling them off your legs and tossing them to the side next to your discarded blouse. As you lay there before him, he would be lying if he said that he didn’t want you in the very moment, but he knew that although this was what you both wanted, it wasn’t what you both needed at the moment.

“How come I’m the only one losing clothes?” You pouted, propping yourself up on your elbows to give him a look that was filled with pure mirth. “Why don’t you at least lose the jacket?”

Vergil stared down at you from his position at the edge of the bed, still wearing his smirk that you could see perfectly through the dim lighting. He began to shrug off his jacket slowly, teasingly, as he backed away from the bed and turned towards the closet. Wearing his vest as he approached your disorganized closet, a cheap laugh fell from your tired lips.

“Really? You’re gonna hang up that thing?” You threw your head back on the pillow as a yawn slipped from between your lips. 

Vergil shook his head but said nothing as he picked up a shirt from the top of your dresser and turned towards you and whipped it at you. The sudden feeling of a cool cloth on your warm skin was surprisingly relaxing, but confusion crept up on your face when you saw Vergil stand in the middle of the room, his arms folded across his chest as he gave you his emotionless stare.

“What’s this?” You held up the shirt, looking at the wrinkled fabric, before looking over at him with raised eyebrows.

“Your shirt. Put it on.” He demanded, looking you dead in the eyes.

“Uh, weren’t we in the middle of something?” You asked, gesturing to the wrinkled bed sheets and your lack of clothing. “We were making progress.”

“Now we aren’t.” He stated, walking towards the bed to help you put the shirt on and push you to lay your head on the pillow. “You need to rest. Especially tomorrow.”

“What?” You shouted, tossing your hands in the air. “I’m perfectly fine. I don’t need rest, what I need is you. Right now.”

“I did what you asked the first time,” He mentioned, looking at you with a tired gaze, “I’m not kissing you again until that alcohol is gone from your lips; I can only tolerate that for so long.”

“This is just not fair…” You huffed, staring at Vergil with a hardened gaze.

“If we finish that job earlier than expected tomorrow, maybe we can continue where we are leaving off tonight?”

You shook your head as you turned your back towards him while he made his way towards the door.

“I hate you.”

“I...I will see you tomorrow.”

[missblissy]

Low Honor!Arthur Morgan X Reader Part 2

((Many people asked for this and I wanted to write a part two to this because it was such a good prompt. Thank you again to the anon who sent it in!! You can read Part One Here!!))

A warm and gentle breeze greeted his skin. He cleared his throat a few times, hating the constant onslaught of phlegm he had to fight just to breath. Arthur was eternally grateful for the warm mountain air that tempted him. It was easy to breathe, and he felt light, almost like he was floating on the wind the guided him through the tall mountain passes. 

The mighty stallion he road might have disagreed, but Arthur much enjoyed this long and quiet journey. It had given him time to think, reflect, and judge himself. There was a lot to think about, between now and then. He had spent the vast majority of his ride already trying to talk himself out of doing it. This was a stupid idea, he would tell himself. But then the next second he’d say, If I don’t do this, I will regret it.

Arthur’s eyes perked up when he noticed the trail began to descend, “We must be getting close, almost there, boyah,” The horse didn’t reply, but still, Arthur leaned down to give the beast a gentle pat.

He thought back on how nearly a week ago he had fainted in the streets of Saint-Denis. How the Pinkertons raided a camp in the swamps. How Dutch was abusing his power over the local Native Americans. He thought a lot about his talks with Rains Fall. He thought most about what Dutch told him in Gurama. He could still hear those words ring in his ears like a screaming bell that wouldn’t stop chiming.

“She was pregnant, Arthur! She would be useless to us anyway! It’s better she’s gone, we have fewer people to worry about!”

How? He knew, but he didn’t. Months had passed since then. Enough months that maybe, just maybe, that baby had been born. Arthur thought of a million reasons why you left. He narrowed them down but never would have guessed which one. Yet again, much to his surprise -but not really- he had fathered another child. 

Finding you was the hardest part. When Arthur learned he was dying, he wanted to try and become a better man. He started helping more, robbing less, and doing what he thought was right. Which including going behind Dutch’s back. Again. And Again, and again. Even now he was. Dutch forbid Arthur to go searching for you, and for whatever reason, Dutch didn’t give a reason why. Arthur, being Arthur, did what he so damn wanted, especially if with the fact that he had fewer and fewer days to spare. This was one of the last things he wanted to do. After this... He needed to do everything he could for John.

Arthur spent the first three days looking for you by bribing post office men, and mailmen of the sorts by looking for a Miss (Y/N) (L/N). On his last day, he finally found someone that knew your name. The mailman said the last he heard, she was sending letters from Lake Alma, a large logging town in a deep valley far beyond the Grizzles, north of Ambarino. Very north of Ambarino. It was about a four-day ride north. 

He could see further down the mountain trail, as he ventured further into the valley, a welcome sign that said We Welcome you to Lake Alma!

Arthur felt very nervous, he had an address, and he hoped it was right. He wasn’t sure if you lived in town, or outside of town. Awful thoughts ping-ponged around in his head. He started getting confused and flustered about what to say to you. Arthur’s stomach twisted in knots and his breath grew thicker and heavier as he started to wheeze. He took a scrap of paper out and looked at it again, reading the street and address number. 

This couldn’t be right... No. Arthur found himself staring at a very large house. He’d go as far to say a mansion. Arthur was very confused, but this was the only lead he had. Perhaps you stayed here at one point? There was no way on earth you could afford to live in a place like this. Maybe you worked here? 

He got off his horse, slow and steady, and took his time walking up to the front porch of this big white house in the middle town. The neighbors had homes just as big and pretty and white. God, this was uncomfortable. Arthur found himself at the front door faster than he expects. He took a breath, shaky and weak, then knocked on the door three times. 

A second passed, then another, a few more then suddenly the large glass door was opened. A man stood there, tall stern. He wasn’t much taller than Arthur, but he had dark black hair that matched a small fuzzy beard. He peered over his half-moon glasses with old tired eyes. Arthur noticed he wore the kind of clothes you’d see a doctor in, “Can I help you?”

Startled and stunned, Arthur froze before clearing his throat, “Uh-”

The man cut him off, “I only see patients at my office,” He studied Arthur’s poor health, “Which is closed today.”

“N-no... Sorry, Mister,” Arthur tipped his head, trying to hide his face under his hat, “I was looking for a Miss (Y/N) (L/N)... Um.. she was a friend of mine-”

This bastard sure was rude. He cut Arthur off again while raising he brow and asked, “You’re... Arthur... Aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?” How did this man know his name? Who was he? Did he know you?

“Just a second,” The strange man closed the door quickly and Arthur could see past the distorted glass as he went deep inside the house. Moments passed and Arthur felt a flashback to when he visited Mary. His heart picked up, he felt nervous and self-conscious. 

Suddenly there was movement behind the door and the nob clicked open. 

“Arthur?” There you were. He couldn’t believe his eyes. You... You looked like a princess, dressed in an all-white dress, with your hair done up pretty, with earing and jewels. Like... God, he thought you were so much different than the cowgirl he knew. Always covered in mud, grime and dried blood. Wearing pants and hats with guns to the teeth.

“(Y-Y/N)... I...” He noticed how thin you were, “You look different,” Was all he could get out of his mouth.

You opened the door a little more, step out and onto the porch, “So do you,” You said grimly. It had almost been a year since you last saw him. Almost. Maybe a month or two shy. He looked... he looked downright awful, “What happened to you?” Funny, that was the only thing you could also say. How did he find you? What... What did he want?

Arthur gave you a small smile while reaching in his pocket and pulling out a cigarette. He let out a low hum while lighting it, “Lots of things,” He clicked his tongue, “But mostly... mostly just here and there.” You could see how hard it was for him to smoke that thing. He coughed a few times, bad, and he fought to catch his breath.

You’ve seen this all before, and you were damn familiar with it, “Arthur... you’re sick aren't you?”

He chuckled to your surprise, “You guessed it,” He sounded so bitter, angry even, “I’m dying, (Y/N).” He sounded like he was done talking, but he took a deep breath and brought his gaze to meet yours. You forgot just how blue and sad his eyes were, “I know about the baby, (Y/N). Dutch told me,”

You blinked several times, your mouth hung open slightly. You took in a sharp breath and shook your head slightly, “I-...Wh-what? Is that why you came here?”

Arthur was about to speak again but the stranger showed up again. He was really getting on Arthur’s nerves. Instead, Arthur got angry and little snotty, “Who is this guy?” He asked you as you waved a hand at the stranger.

The man didn’t seem fazed, he didn’t even react to Arthur’s immature tone. In fact, he just looked down at you, giving you the chance to explain. Arthur stared at you, waiting for an answer while you knitted your brows and frowned slightly, “My husband,” you said, “Arthur, this is Nick,”

“Nicolas Garcon, Dr. Nicolas Garcon,” The man’s voice was suddenly thick with a heavy French accent. Arthur very much suddenly hated this Nicolas.

You turned to your husband, a smile on your face, “It’s fine dear, go collect the rest of those books for me, please? Leave them in my gazebo and I’ll meet you there later?”

Nicolas didn’t say anything. He apparently wasn’t much of a man for words. He simply went on his way, back into the house and thankfully away from Arthur. On the other hand, Arthur was very... surprised. You married this guy? Of all the people? You either really loved him, or something he had, and Arthur wasn’t sure which.

After a few seconds, you looked back to Arthur, “Would you like to come in?”

His face was still hanging in disbelief, “Sure,” He didn’t sound too sure. Arthur followed you inside. The house was very nice. Smaller and cuter than Angelo Bronte’s house, but just as white and gold and glistening as Henri Lemieux’s large home. Regardless, he couldn’t deny it was beautiful. He had been in many mansion this past year, but yours was by far his favorite. He could tell you made this place your home.

There were books everywhere, you were an avid reader and enjoyed learning. He could see the painting you must have to choose, they were all of flowers or landscapes. Arthur faintly remembered a time when you were younger, bugging him to draw you pictures to hang in your tent. He even saw photographs hanging on the wall.

“That’s me-” Arthur caught you by surprise, you stopped and looked back at him. He was staring at a photo of himself, Dutch, Hosea, and you, “That’s... us. You kept this thing?”

You had nearly forgotten that picture you put up. It was one of the only things you had left to remind you of your old life. You missed it every now and then, “Yeah,” It hurt a little, “You guys are the only family I know,” Arthur kept looking at it, you could see him processing forbidden emotions. 

A woman unknown to Arthur came rushing down the large staircase you were already making your way towards, “Madam!” She called lightly, “Madam, the little one had woken up,” She was a short chubby woman, who looked twice as old as Arthur.

Both you and Arthur perked at her announcement, “Thank you, Laura,” You smiled at her, thankful she was around and here to help, “Can you hold on a moment, I’ve got a guest. We’ll be up shortly,” The maid nodded her head, give Arthur a smile as well before heading back upstairs.

Arthur looked back at you. You were a faint hollow shadow of your formal self, the real you. This? This... rich man’s wife? This wasn’t you, it couldn’t be, “How?” He simply asked, “How... Did you-”

You knew what he was asking, so you swallowed the lump in your throat, “Luck I guess. After I left the camp,” You paused, remembering things you didn’t want to remember, “I... I fled into the mountains. I knew I had to get out of the area, go somewhere I knew Dutch wouldn’t want to go. I made it here after two weeks of getting lost in the snow.”

“Then you met him?” He gestured to what Arthur assumed was your wedding photo, “And married him?”

Your laugh startled him and made his heartache. You giggled behind your hand, “Oh no- Nick and I only just got married, about a week ago.”

Something about that made Arthur irrational angry. His dumb man brain told him he had a chance to come up here earlier and he should have come up earlier. He cursed himself for prolonging this for so long.

“But- yes, Nick was the first person I met when I got here. I was already two months pregnant, starving and nearly frozen to death. He found me and took me into his home. This home. He’s been nothing more than helpful, and we are very similar people,” 

Arthur found that extremely hard to believe, you could tell by the way his face twisted up. He gave you that look often when you were younger. It made a small part of your heart flicker awake, that you thought was long since dead. It just didn’t make sense, so he asked it, “Why did you marry him?”

“He asked... And,” Your voice went a little soft, “This.. this was the best option for my daughter.”

A daughter? He had a daughter? Arthur’s face lit up, then went pale as a sheet. In his weak and sick state, he didn’t try to hide his emotions anymore. He was like reading an open book. You couldn’t imagine what he was feeling. And he was feeling a lot.

Arthur lowered his head eventually, he took on a grim tone, “I’m sorry,” He said slowly, “This- I... I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did, the last time we spoke. You were right, (Y/N). About everything. You opened my eyes up to that, and so did the threat of death that constantly hangs over my head.”

You forgave Arthur a long time ago. You thought you would never see him again, or anyone for that matter. To his surprise, and your own a little bit, you had turned into someone completely different from your formal self. You became a wife and a mother, something Arthur never saw in you. You became domesticated, in a way.

A somber look grew on both your faces. You swore that you’d keep your daughter miles and miles away from your former life. You devoted every second of your time to her, which was a surprise to you. It was a lot easier than you first thought, maybe that’s why you helplessly fell in love with Nicolas. For the first time in what felt like years, you found someone who wanted nothing more than to help you and make a better person out of you. He showered you in the attention you so craved from Arthur, or from any on-again-off-again lover. 

The fact that Arthur came all this way to find you, to find your daughter and confront you about it. It made you confused and honestly sad. If it was not for the fact that Arthur was quite literally dying, you’d probably turn him away.

“Do you want to see her?” You finally asked the question that Arthur couldn’t quite ask himself.

He stood there, silent, still and sad. His hat covered the vast majority of his face. Though it was barely noticeable, you saw the quick little nod and heard the tiny little, “Yes.” 

You went upstairs, Arthur following close behind. The tink tink tink of his spurs along the hardwood floors reminded you of the days long in the past. Seeing Arthur here? It hurt you honestly. It opened up wounds you thought healed, but really you only covered them up. You stopped at a white door that had a little pink sign on it that said, Meadow. 

Arthur could put two and two together, “How old is she?” He asked before you could open the door. He was so nervous. It was just a baby, it wasn’t like she’d know who he was. It’s not like you’d let her know who he was either. She’d grow with Nicolas as a father, not Arthur, and that's all she needed.

“Only a month,” You turned the door nob, “She was born a few weeks premature, so she’s small,” The crisp white room nearly blinded Arthur when he looked inside.

The nursery was cute, small and neat. He eyes immediately locked on a small crib where the maid Laura was standing. She smiled at them then excused herself. You walked over to your daughter without hesitation, unlike Arthur was seemed physically scared of a baby, “Come on,” You quipped, “She only bite a little.”

Arthur slowly tip-toed his way closer and closer to the crib. There inside he found possibly the smallest most helpless baby he’s ever seen. LIttle baby Meadow had large blue eyes that stared up at the world, and thin curly blonde hair growing in every direction. Arthur’s brows knitted together as he gazed down at this little girl. His face hardened, and you could see how much this hurt him.

“She looks like you,” You said quietly. She really did, she looked nothing like you in your opinion. She had Arthur’s eyes and his light hair. Her face was soft and round with little defining features yet.

“I’m...I...” He was at a loss for words, “Meadow,” He said the name, tasting it on his tongue. It was a fitting name, he thought, she was as beautiful as a wild meadow filled with flowers swaying with the waves of wind that passed over it, “Hello, Meadow.” Arthur bit at his upper lip, he was fighting emotions he thought he’d never feel again. But this time it was far more worse, and these emotions were very unwanted, “I’m sorry I can’t be your daddy, little girl, sometimes I wish I could,” He reached down slowly into the crib, holding a finger out for her. She grabbed it fast and held on tight, “You got a really smart, brave, and pretty mama. You got a rich daddy, a big house, and a life I could never give you,” He smiled when Meadow looked up at him and giggled, smiling her own toothless cheeky baby smile.

Hearing Arthur say those things touched your heart and soul. You could feel his pain, fear, and regret waving off him like a violent storm. For some reason, you had regret too. What if you stayed there, in camp? Would Arthur have changed? Would you have had a chance with him? But then you remember the newspaper article your husband gave you just a few days ago, about how awful and terrible the Dutch Van der Linde gang was, and all the gang members that have been killed, and all the people the gang killed. You knew in your mind that you made the right choice, but your heart was screaming for a different one.

Arthur kept looking down at his daughter, loving her for the few seconds he’d allow himself too. Eventually, he pulled his hand away and she began to cry. She let out small whimpers like she was begging for him to come back. It was hard, but he did his best to back away from the crib. When you looked away from Meadow, and back to Arthur, you caught a glimpsof him rubbing his eyes with his index finger and thumb. He shed little tears, but he still shed them.

“You made the right choice,” Arthur said after a few moments, “I’m glad you left, there wouldn’t be much of a life for her if you stayed. I wish it was different, I wish I was different,” Arthur paused, and you felt no need to cut into his words. He sounded like he was just rambling off his thoughts, not really thinking about what he said, but more so feeling what he needed to feel, “I’m glad I got to meet her though,” He ne he’d regret if he didn’t, and even though it killed him, he was still glad he did this before his time finally ran out, “I should get going, I don’t want to over stay my welcom-”

“Are you sure, Arthur?” You couldn’t stop the words from blurting out. You became nervous and quickly added, “It’s such along ride back. At-.. At least stay a little longer. Let Nick give you some medicine. He specializes in... in your area of illness. He runs a hospital ward just outside town.”

The offer was tempting, but he really shouldn’t. Yet despite this thought, he found himself say, “Alright.” 

You called for Laura, asking her to watch Meadow for a few moments while you walked Arthur down stairs once more and towards the back of the house. You called out for your husband and asked him to do a simple task, then left Arthur alone with the man he just really didn’t like.

“She says you’re sick,” Nicolas waved a hand for Arthur to step inside what looked like to be a science lab. He was a doctor after all. There was a chair for him to sit in so Arthur made his way towards it.

“Sure, something like that,” He really didn’t want to talk much, though he did look around a lot. He was impressed, “Are you some kind of scientist?”

“Something like that,” If that was his attempted at a joke, it was very unfunny. What did you see in this guy? Clearly something Arthur didn’t see, “I spend a lot of time studying medicine and diseases. I do a little embalming work as well.” Nicolas walked over to a cabnit and pulled out two little bottle, then a syringe. He filled it half way with both then returned to Arthur, “This will hurt.” he said in a monotone voice.

Arthur winced as the needle dug into his skin, and he let out a quick breath when he felt the liquid force it’s way into his blood stream. It burned and felt like he was dying there for a second. Thank god it was over as quickly as it started. 

He was about to thank him, but Noclas started speaking much to his surprise, “She cares about you, I hope you know that,” He was talking about you, “She talks about you often, as much as she’d never admit that. My opinon of you is very small, probably as small as your opinon of me, but I’d do anything to make her happy, also just like you,” What was he trying to get at? Arthur wasn’t sure but he kept listening, “When (Y/N) first came her, all she did was cry about you, how she missed you and how much it hurt to leave on such a bad note. I couldn’t believe such a man existed to be so... selfish,” Rude, huh? Arthur rolled his eyes, but he knew Nicolas was right, “I did everything in my power to try and make her happy, to make her smile. I bought her books, I drew her pictures, I filled this house with paintings and flowers, and anything she liked. When she gave birth to Meadow, she wished you were there. She doesn’t really love me, Mr. Morgan. Maybe she says she does, but you are the one, and have been the only one on her mind for so long,”

It felt odd, yet there was now sense of similartiy between himself and this stoic doctor. Perhaps they were two side of the same coin. Arthur could remember how mard and how important it use to be to him to make you happy and see you smile. Just somewhere along the line he lost his honor, his way of thinking, and morals. It took the threat of death to bring him back up.

Arthur nodded his head slowly, “You’re better for her, better than me at least. For the both of them,”

“I know,” Nicolas deadpanned, “And I love them, even Meadow. I love her as if she was my own.”

At least he was honest. Arthur could respect that. He sat up, getting out of the chiar, “Thank you,” he said, “For this-” He raised his shoulder were he got the shot, “And... And for doing something I couldn’t. And can’t.” Both of them shared a silent look, then a nod. Nicolas lead Arthur out of his little lab and back into the center of the house. You were waiting by the door with a small bag in your hands.

When Arthur approched, you held out the bag for him, “Please, there’s some medicine in here, and some food for the trip back. I can’t imagine Dutch being keen on you being gone for so long,” You tried to smile but it didn’t meet your eyes.

“No, you’re right on that,” There was a poor attempt of a smile on his face, “Thank you. Both of you,” Arthur looked at you and your husband then gave a nod of his head, “Take care of her for me,” He was looking at you now, “I don’t know if we’ll ever cross paths again, (Y/N), but... thank you, and... Be well. I hope only good things happen to you.”

He gave a little tip of his hat, kept his eyes looking at the ground and excused himself out your front door. When the heavy glass door clicked shut, you let out a breath, a heavy and sad one. How terribly tragic this was. You wished, just for a second, maybe a second more, that your life could have been a little different, and have a little more of Arthur in it for just a little longer.

[sufferthesea]

Hi again! Could you please do another scenario with Genma with a shy reader that's not a ninja and it's there first date but she ends up getting sick and he surprises her by coming to take care of her?

This was perfectly timed because I always get sick in October-November. Now if only I had a cute ninja boy coming to take care of me while I sat on the couch and watched movies all day. /sigh/ 

Thank you for the request!! I had a lot of fun writing this!! Please let me know if you think my scenarios/headcanons are too long! Also I literally just figured out how to write Genma, idk how he’d text 😂 I did my best. 

Words: 3.144Rating: General Pairing: Genma x Reader

Thiswasn’t how it was supposed to go. When Genma asked you out twoweeks ago you had been so excited that you were near to crying - butyou were also incredibly nervous. Genma was one of the mostinteresting guys you’d ever met, and you felt as if you were theequivalent of a talking potato sack. Not to mention you weren’teven a ninja so why onearth he’d even bother with a civilian was beyond you. Someone ofhis caliber should really be looking for a girl just as strong andknowledgeable and brave and outgoing ashim. (You’d barely managed to squeak out a “yes” when he askedyou to dinner, and it took every ounce of strength just to look himin the eyes when he spoke to you.) He must’ve read the confusion onyour face because almost immediately after asking you out, he said:

“You know, you’rereally cute when you act shy. And I figured if I didn’t ask youout, we’d never get anywhere.”

You’dthought about that for the last fortnight, your face bright red and ashy giggle falling from your lips whenever his face appeared in yourmind. But among the excitement was a bit of fear and the typicalinsecurity you often faced. You’d never really gone on a datebefore and certainly had never been asked out by someone like Genma.He’d suggested something simple - just a small dinner at a curryshop outside of the village. He said it was a cute little place andhe was sure you’d like it because it was out of the way and fewpeople went all the way out there to eat. It was nice of him to thinkof you like that, but there was still so much pressure. Would youlike the food there? What if it was too spicy? What if he thought youate too much? Or not enough? The thought of someone watching you eatwas a little overwhelming. And what if - did you dare to evenentertain this thought so early in the relationship? - what if at theend of the night he tried to kiss you? What if he kissedyou and you had curry breath? You’dabsolutely die on the spot.

Unfortunately,stressing out for the last fourteen days had done the exact oppositeof helping your health and you woke up the day of the date with asore throat, runny nose, and pounding headache. You had somehowstressed yourself into a cold,and now you were even more miserable than before. (Of course itsurely had nothing todo with the fact that you’d left open the bedroom window the nightbefore and had kicked off your blanket in the middle of the night…)

“I can’t go on adate l-like this,” you shuddered, pulling a thick woolen blanketover your shoulders and sneezing into a tissue. “I can’t l-lethim see me like this.”

Forlornly,you looked towards the clock hanging on the wall and your heartdropped. It was already noon; six hours until you were supposed tomeet Genma at the gates so he could walk you to the restaurant. Thiswasn’t good. It’s not like you could take some magic pill to getbetter immediately, and you were certain that if you decided to go onthe date then something mortifying would happen - you’d sneeze onhim, or go into a coughing fit while eating, or you’d get himsick. You couldn’t risk it - not when you’d somehow managed tograb his attention in the first place. You weren’t going to ruin itby being grossly sick all over him in a restaurant. There was onlyone option, and it killed you to even think of it.

You’d have tocancel the date.

It’d be a lie tosay you didn’t cry for a few moments as you convinced yourself thatit’s what was best. Did you want to cancel the date or did you wantto show up and gross him out?

Gathering whateverremaining strength you had, you dug your phone out of your sweatpantspocket and went through your list of contacts before you foundGenma’s number. He’d given it to you when he asked you out, butyou hadn’t texted him before. Would your first text to him reallybe canceling the date? Sometimes the universe sucked.

Steadying your handsenough to text out a legible message, you pressed send and waitedwith bated breath, the pressure behind your eyes and in the bridgeof your nose growing.

Genma - can’tmake it. im sick. rain check?

Itwasn’t good to sit there and wait so you placed your phone on thefarthest part of the coffee table and curled up on the couch, feelingawful. Everything was starting to ache and you weren’t sure whatyou should do to feel better. Going to the hospital was out of thequestion - you weren’t dying,you just had a cold. And you didn’t want to be a burden on anybodyelse by asking them to come over and take care of you. So you werestuck with the only solution - suffer alone until you were better.

Your heart jumped atthe sudden buzzing of your phone vibrating on the table and you leaptup to grab it, hands shaking as you eagerly read the message fromGenma.

That sucks. We’llreschedule. Hope u feel better soon

He hoped you feltbetter soon?! That was so nice of him! Before you could finishgushing over the simple text, a second one came through.

Let me know ifthere’s anything I can do to help

Yourfingers moved quickly to type that he didn’t have to do anything,but then you stopped. He was asking - offering - to help you throughthis dreadful time. Would it be ruder to accept his invitation andpossibly get him sick, or to decline it and spare him the vision ofyou stuffed up and snotty? It really didn’t matter if you were at arestaurant or at home, you didn’t wanthim to witness you blowing your nose or hacking or just looking likeyou’d crawled out some Pit Of Disgusting. You hated to admit it,but you got kind of whiny whenever you were ill and it was prettyembarrassing. With a little bit of heartache, you finished the textand sent it.

No, that’s okay- thx tho. I appreciate it

Almost immediately,another response sent your phone buzzing in your hands.

Anything for you;)

Youvaulted the phone away quickly, your body instantly burning hot, asurprised laugh escaping your mouth. “Wh-What? What was that?”you wheezed, pulling the blanket up to your face and staring inelation at the phone now lying on the floor across the room. “He -He put a - a winking face! What does th-that mean? Does he … oh mygosh.” Hiding under the blanket, you allowed yourself to gigglechildishly and closed your eyes tight. Genma’s perfect face wasthere - a smile gracing his features. He put a winkingface! That was good, right? Andhe’d said “anything for you”. Anythingfor you. Anything for you.How did he mean it? Would he really do anything for you? Your stomachgrowled and you grimaced; maybe you should have asked him to bringyou something to eat …

The phone buzzedagain and you practically threw yourself across the room to grab it,scrambling to clutch it close your face and read the message.

U allergic toanything?

Confused, you rereadthe message and checked to see who it was from. Genma had sent it,that was certain but … Did he think you’d called off the datebecause you had had an allergic reaction or something? Or - did hethink you’d canceled the date because you were allergic to curry?You were legitimately sick and this boy thought you were skipping outbecause you didn’t like his taste in food?

No - im good. Notcurry!! hahaha I was looking forward to eating there /:

Thatwas good enough, right? Assure him that you weren’t avoiding himbecause of that little restaurant, and that you actually didwant to go with him.

Same. Oh well.Maybe next week.

Then, a secondlater:

What r ursymptoms? Like are u coughing and sneezing? Sore throat? Or somethingelse?

Was he concernedthat your illness would still be there by next week when you actuallywent on your date? You shifted on the ground, resting on your elbowsas you thought over what to say. The point of canceling the date wasto keep him from knowing what you were going through at the moment.

Youtyped slowly, regretting every letter of your text: headache,sore throat, runny nose, congestion, sinus, everything hurts!!! ))):I feel like death tbh

Five minutes passedof absolute silence and your chest twisted in embarrassment. Had yousaid too much? You knew it - you’d messed this up. No good. Genmawould surely ditch you and go for some girl with a perfect immunesystem who looked absolutely glamorous even when she was suffering,and certainly didn’t complain about it. When another five minutespassed without a response, you pulled yourself back onto the couchand cuddled under your blanket and sighed heavily. Why did it have tohappen now?! Today of all days.

The phone buzzedagainst your chest and you yelped, jolting upwards and dropping it tothe ground. Fumbling around for it, you grabbed another tissue fromthe nearly empty box on the table and dabbed at your sore nose.

Grape or orange?

Nowthis was getting weird. Your response was only: what?

Genmaswiftly replied: Do you prefer grape or orange? Or cherry??

Uh… I don’t …care????? What is this for?

Insteadof answering, he simply asked: did u still want to go tothe curry place next week? I’ll pick u up next time. What’s uraddress?

Stumped, you staredat the glaring screen in your hands. What was going on? He was actingstrange. But your cold-infested brain wasn’t willing to work withyou to figure out what he was doing so you merely texted back youraddress. He stopped responding and you wondered if it was a mistaketo tell him where you lived. It was almost one o’clock and youreyes were feeling the weight of your illness. Sniffling into yourhandful of tissues, you curled up on your side and let yourself fallasleep.

An hour later youwere woken up by heavy knocks at your front door. It startled youawake and you rolled off of the couch, dazed and utterly lost as towhat was happening. Scrambling to your feet, you wiped drool off ofyour face and ambled over to the door, your voice croaking in pain asyou muttered, “Coming …”

Groggily, you pulledopen the door and looked blearily out into the bright world. Youshaded your eyes and squinted at the shadowed figure filling yourdoorway.

“You look as badas you said you feel,” came a voice.

Your eyes widenedand you dropped your hand, finally realizing that it was none otherthan Genma standing at your door.

“Wh-What are youd-doing here?!” you shouted, throwing your hands up to coveryourself although there was nothing to be covered. You were alreadydressed in a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants, and although your hair waswild and uncombed and your nose was as red as the swirl on Genma’sjonin jacket, you weren’t indecent. Still it was almost shameful tobe standing before such a beautiful man looking like you’d climbedout of a dumpster recently.

“Aren’t yougoing to invite me in?” Genma asked, a small smirk playing on hislips.

Youglanced back at your small apartment and you could almost feelyour cold lingering on the air. He didn’t want to go in there. “Uh… you’ll … you’re gonna get sick -!”

“Don’t worry, Igot it covered.” Genma reached into one of the half dozen bags hewas carrying and pulled out a white surgical mask, using one hand tomaneuver it onto his face. You’d only just now noticed his senbon was nowhere to be seen. “See? Now I won’t catch whatever youhave. Heh, do I look like Kakashi now?” 

“What?”

“He… you’re not a ninja. Right. You’ve probably seen him around.Kind of weird … got hair out to herethat’s silver, always has a mask on, always reading that orangebook.”

“No, I - I knowwho you’re talking about. I m-mean … What is all that?” Youmotioned to the different bags Genma was carrying and he grinned fromear to ear (not that you could see it).

“Well I figuredsince you weren’t up to going out tonight, we could have a nightin. Is that alright?”

“What? Really?”

“Sure.” He heldup a few bags with a local market’s logo across it. “This is somemedicine - I got three different kinds, since none of them coveredall of your symptoms. I also got you some tissues - it sounded likeyou’d need them.”

You looked away andblushed, trying to stealthily dab at your running nose with acrumpled tissue. “Th-Thanks.”

“Noproblem. I also got us dinner - or lunch, I guess.” He held up two paper bags from arestaurant you’d passed by before. “I wasn’t entirely sure whatyou eat, so I got a few different things.” He then shook a fewother bags strung along his arm, “And then I grabbed us somedrinks. Nothing alcoholic, though. Didn’t think you needed to betipsy and sick. Iwouldn’t make you wake up tomorrow hungover with a cold.” 

You stared inabsolute awe at the man, a happy smile spreading across your face. “W… Wow! That’s so n-nice of you! I d-didn’t think … I thoughtyou’d …”

Hecocked an eyebrow and showed you the bags again. “Listen, Iappreciate the thanks but canI come in? I’ve walked all over the village with these.”

“Oh! R-Right.Sorry.” You stepped aside to let him in and he glanced around yourapartment.  

“This is cute. Youlive alone?”

“Y-Yes …”

“Good. I don’twant anyone disturbing our date.” He dropped the bags onto thecoffee table and looked back at you. “Actually, I just don’t wantto share my food with anyone but you.”

A dry, croakygiggle jumped out of your throat before you could stop it and youcovered your face in shame. Genma gave a soft laugh himself and wavedyou over to the couch.

“Don’t beembarrassed; you’re sick. Come on. I also bought tea leaves to makeyou something hot to drink, since I’m sure you could use it. Whydon’t you put a movie in and I’ll get started on making the tea?”

Defeated, youcrumpled to the floor in front of the small media cabinet that yourtelevision was sitting on. You only had a few DVDs and you’dwatched them all to death, but if picking a movie meant you’d getyour date after all then you’d bite your tongue and suck it up. Youchose one of the more exciting films - something you’d seen once inthe village’s theater and had liked enough to purchase - and pushedthe disc into the DVD player. By the time you made it back to yourseat on the couch, Genma was arriving with two mugs full of hot tea.He handed you one and your entire body warmed with the heat of thecup. He pushed the edge of your blanket out of the way and sat downnext to you, setting aside his cup and digging through the plasticbags on the table.

“Here’s themedicine,” he said as he deposited one bag into your lap and pulledanother bag closer.

Whenyou looked through it you found three different flavors of cold syrup - orange, grape, and cherry. So that’swhat he was talking about.

“And here’s thetissues.” He then opened the two paper bags and pulled out steamingtake-out cartons. “Just tell me what you want and you can have it.”

Silently, youadmired the man beside you as he shuffled around the cartons and setup a line of bottled drinks. He caught your eye and raised aneyebrow, and you could sense the questioning smile hiding behind thesurgical mask.

“What?”

“Noth-Nothing!”You held your cup tighter and brought it to your face, breathing inthe earthy scent of tea. “I just … really appreciate this.Th-Thank you.”

“No problem. Iwasn’t going to pass on an opportunity to go on a date with you.Even if it’s …” He motioned around the apartment and shrugged.“I didn’t really feel like walking all the way out to that curryplace tonight anyway.”

Feeling a bit bold,you gave him a serious look (which was made fairly intimidating withthe deep bags under your eyes and the raw skin around your nose) andsaid, “Well don’t think - uhm - that you’ll get out of t-takingme there one day … You promised me a-a date there … and I expectt-to go there.”

Genma pulled downthe mask to reveal his broad grin, his eyes locked on yours. “We’llgo when you feel better. Promise.”

You smiled back andpressed the rim of the hot cup to your lips. “You know - you didn’thave to go through all of this for me.”

“I said anything,didn’t I?”

“Huh?”

Genma pulled out apair of disposable chopsticks and broke them apart, handing you oneof the take-out containers. “I said I’d do anything for you,right? I meant it. Mostly. Some things I wouldn’t - … Anythingwithin reason, I guess. This was no bother. This the movie you wantto watch?”

He changed thesubject so quickly your foggy brain had a hard time keeping up. “Yeah… uhm, thank - thank you.”

Genma gave you asideways glance and a small smile pulled at his mouth. “You’dbetter stop talking before you lose your voice. We won’t be able totalk when we go out next week. Then what’ll we do?”

Shrinking into thewarmth of the blanket, you nodded. “Uh - oh, well … What if I’mnot feeling better by next week?”

“Oh, you will,”Genma said as he relaxed into the couch, kicking his legs up onto thecoffee table. “I’m gonna take care of you until you feel better,so you’ll have no excuse for canceling our next date.”

Blushing hotly, younodded and smiled down into your tea. You were starting to think thatmaybe being sick wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[cas-backwards-tie]

Jim Gordon’s Adopted Daughter

Summary: Jim takes you- his newly adopted daughter- to Wayne Manor on business only for you to make a new friend named Bruce Wayne.

Warnings: None... Does Reader talking crap about Bruce count?

Word Count: 2,380

Author’s Note: This is my first writing of anything Gotham related, so I hope you enjoy and if you’d like to request anything please feel free! I think this is going to be a series, as I’ve already written a bit of the 2nd chapter.

“Get in the car,” I look over at the car driving slowly next to me on the road.

“Why?”

“Wha-? Y/N, come on! I need you to get in the car”

“Fine,” I open the passengers door cooperatively and slide in with the car still moving slowly, sliding my backpack off easily and putting it down at my feet. “Why couldn’t I just walk home?”

“Let’s just say I’d prefer to pick you up from school from now on. Not because of you, if that’s what you’re thinking- it’s because of work. I also need to visit a friend to disclose some new evidence we’ve found on a case so I hope you don't mind tagging along.”

“It’s not the Penguin, is it?”

“What? No! We’re not friends Y/N. Not by any means” my father’s grip on the steering wheel hardens, almost turning his knuckles white.

“Well, alright... I didn’t mean to offend you or anything, I was just asking” I turn a little to look out at the city, watching as it turns into a more suburb-like scene.

“How was school?” I can tell he feels a little awkward as we still haven’t gotten the whole father-daughter thing down yet.

“It was alright. I don’t really like the kids though...”

“Why not?”

“They’re either stuck up, rich and snotty, quiet or druggies and thieves. Maybe that’s just my perception, but still”

“I have a feeling you’d be a good detective” he says probably trying to compliment me in some way, but I try to just shrug it off.

“Alright, Jim, alright... Where are we going again?” I say.

“To Wayne Manor” he says.

“Oh, okay” more and more greenery pops up the further we make our way out of the city. I watch the little flowers outside, seeing groups of them pop up in bunches and then disappear as we drive on- how cute and quaint.

I turn on my phone having turned it off during school hours and start to play my farming game to pass the time; I don’t really like the game, but I play it when I’m bored just to give me something to do. It doesn’t help that I feel like I can’t really talk to my Dad about his work yet, as when I bring up certain things he seems to get ticked off, closed off or silent; he doesn’t enjoy talking about work like I don’t enjoy talking about school.

When I look up we’re approaching a huge mansion that spreads over what I would say is at least ten acres from my line of sight, “Damn,”

“Yeah, that’s how I felt the first time I came here too”

“Once we park and get out I walk towards the house but get stopped by a hand on my chest- “Y/N, hold on. I want you to be on your best behavior when we go in there, alright? Can you do that for me?”

“Sure, Jim” I give him a small smile of complacency as I’m eager to go inside, curious what lies beyond the doors, yet also wanting to get this over with so I can go back home and nap, tired from school today.

I stand behind Jim as he knocks on the big door of the house; an older man, average height, blondish grey hair answers the door. “Detective Gordon? Why do come in” the man steps aside and lets Jim through. Is that a English or Australian accent I hear?

“It’s nice to see you again Alfred. Is Bru-”

“Do beg my pardon sir, but who’s this?” Alfred looks me over as he stands still, blocking the doorway as he waits for Jim’s answer.

“Oh, sorry Alfred. This is Y/N, she’s my daughter” Alfred’s face looks surprised as he steps back.

“My apologizes Miss, Y/N? Is that right?” I nod my head in acknowledgement as I step through the doorway, “I didn’t know you had a daughter Detective, it’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Y/N” Alfred sticks out his hand, I shake it delicately, replying to his pleasantries as I’m distracted and glancing around the huge house in curiosity.

“Mr. Bruce is in his study, I’ll go get him- he’ll be glad to see you Detective” I stand a few feet away from my father, taking in all the details of the intricately decorated house.

“Best behavior”

I roll my eyes, “I know, I know...”

“Your friend has a huge house”

“This isn’t who we came to see, no. He’s not the friend I was referring to earlier, though Alfred’s a good man” a few moments later Alfred comes back empty-handed. Didn’t he say he was going to go get someone?

“If you’ll follow me Sir and Madam, I’d be happy to escort you to Master Wayne. He’s currently finishing up a project.”

Master Wayne? Who’re we here to see? Only a narcissistic person would have another person call them ‘Master’- that’s just wrong. I wonder who this guy is gonna be- how could this be a good friend of my Dad’s if he’s filthy rich and entitled? He’s probably some fat, bald, annoying citer-smoking old man... I groan, anticipating this to be a long afternoon. It doesn’t help that I’m already tired too...

I follow my Dad through the long hallways that Alfred guides us through, glancing at the portraits and artwork lined along the walls. We eventually get to a door slightly cracked as Alfred pushes it open to show us in.

“Detective Gordon! How kind of you to stop by” I stop near the doorway and cock an eyebrow at the crackling fire in the fireplace to the left. IT’s the beginning of summer, why would he have a fire gong? What the heck?

I get pulled back into the conversation when someone brings up my name, “Y/N?” I look to my Dad and the young boy standing next to him.

“Yeah?” I say dumbfounded having not been paying attention. Who’s this? Probably the guy’s son.

“This is Bruce Wayne, Bruce this is my daughter, Y/N” I walk towards them both and hold out my hand to the young boy: he’s taller than me, but looks younger, he has dark wavy hair and deep chocolatey eyes.

“Nice to meet you,” I give him a polite smile and a firm handshake, a business shake returned. Is this the person we came to see? Master Wayne? No...

“You have a very beautiful name Y/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you” Bruce focuses on me, forgetting my father as he starts to ask me questions. “So, Jim Gordon is your father? I didn’t know he had a daughter, forgive me, how old are you?”

“Uh- I’m- we’re not related by blood.”

“Oh, so you’re adopted? How wonderful”

“Uh... Yes. Yes! I’m adopted” I say with a clear, firm decisions. I mean, I was pretty much adopted, at least of you don’t count the legalities. “I’m sixteen, but my birthday is in a few weeks.” Bruce smiles at me and I feel it’s genuine, though I also don’t really trust people I don’t know- maybe he’s just trying to be polite.

My father steps toward Bruce and places his hand lightly on his shoulder. “Sorry Bruce, but I came here because new evidence has been brought to my attention regarding your case. The Commissioner has been taking a look at all the unclosed cases we have on file and he thinks he’s found something in yours.”

“Oh, alright. If- uh, you don’t mind giving us a moment Y/N, I’d like to discuss this alone with your father.” He says it so kind and eloquently I feel like I can’t say no, despite not wanting to be bored waiting in the hallway.

“Yeah, sure”

“Alfred if you wouldn’t mind, please take Y/N to the kitchen- if you’re thirsty Alfred can help you get something” I raise an eyebrow in concern and at the small words which describe incapability to me. I can get it myself.... If I knew where the kitchen was.

“Right away Master Wayne. If you’ll follow me, Miss” Alfred leads the way and I follow, stopping by the door and looking back at my father for a sign. So this boy is Master Wayne? This house is his? It’s huge! Surely Alfred might call him ‘Master’, but it’s probably his Dad’s house.

“Don’t worry, I’ll come get you when we finish, alright?” 

I nod and close the door behind me, wondering what’s so secretive that I can’t hear... Or maybe it’s just personal and Bruce doesn’t want it disclosed in front of me since we’ve only just met... That makes sense. Yeah, it makes sense, I mean I wouldn’t go around parading my life to him, so why would he do the same?

After about an hour, a lemonade and twenty questions with Alfred- not too much disclosure or give- my father finally comes to get me.

“Ready to go?” he pats me on the back, his hand resting on my shoulder.

“Ready when you are” I half-smile and turn to leave, thanking Alfred for the lemonade.

“You’re welcome” Alfred replies as Bruce approaches me, sitting on a high chair at the island next to me.

“Y/N?” Bruce speaks up as I hop off the high chair I had been sitting on, ready to leave.

“Yeah?” I reply.

“Please do come back, I’d like to get to know you better” I try not to take his words in a flirtatious way, but I can’t help blushing a little.

“Yeah, me too. Do you have a phone? Maybe I could text you to figure out times” I offer quickly, knowing my Dad is waiting in the next hallway.

“I’ll give you my number” he types his number into my contacts and hands the phone back to me, “it was nice to meet you, I’ll talk to you soon”

“Talk to you soon” I genuinely smile, seeing that he seems to be authentic and nice, despite being what I can only presume is incredibly rich considering this mansion. I wave to him, Alfred following me to probably let my father and I out.

Soon enough I’m sat in the passengers seat of the undercover cop car, watching the scenery fade from rural to city. “Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah Kiddo?”

“Bruce-  he’s the friend you wanted to see?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I don’t know, it just seemed weird that you told him the information but not his Dad”

“What do you mean? Alfred?” he looks over at me, intent on my reaction.

“I kind of guessed that Alfred wasn’t his Dad, but I mean- even if his Dad wasn’t home why didn’t you just wait?”

“Sweetie, Bruce’s parents died almost six years ago- Alfred’s his butler. That’s the case I was referring to.”

My Dad sighs as he focuses back on the road.

“Oh....” I look down, then out the window, putting the pieces together... No wonder he didn’t want me to hear about the new evidence. “I- I”

“Didn’t know... I know you didn’t, it’s okay. It’s sad, and I’m not gonna lie- there are things that make it even more sad, but you know what?”

“Wait, things like what?”

“It doesn’t matter, I shouldn’t have said anything, it’s not my place to say. All I’m saying is that, if you want a good friend Y/N, one who’s not druggy, snotty or a thief- Bruce is a good guy. If you don’t like the kids at school, at least promise me you’ll interact with Bruce. Hang out with someone who’s your age for once Y/N.”

“Okay.... Sure” I say half sarcastically and half genuinely feeling bad for Bruce.

“Good” I look over at my Dad upstairs and to the apartment, unlocking it and walking through, straight to my bed not forgetting to take off my shoes at the doorway. “Hey, Honey- how was school today?”

“It was boring, but Jim took me to some rich guy’s house, so that was interesting. Goodnight Leslie” 

“Are you going to bed? Already?” she says exasperated.

“Yeah, I’m tired”

“At least eat something”

“I’m really fine Leslie. I’m not hungry, but thank you” I come off a little more stern and annoyed than I’d intended, but I don’t want to apologize. I try to be nice, but sometimes I just hate how caring and solicitous both Leslie and Jim are.

I walk into my room, slip my backpack down to the edge of my bed and jump back onto my bed flopping on my back and lying down; I sigh out of relief. I just want to sleep- I’m tired and it’s been a long day, I’m still not used to school and I hate it. Homework? Ew. School lunches? Disgusting. Working with Dad? Solving Cases? Looking at evidence? Interesting.

I hear a knock at my door and groan, looking at the windows on the left side of my room, not wanting to meet the eyes of the knocker. “Remember to do your homework before bed okay? I know it’s been a long day and you’re tired, but homework is important Y/N/N”

“Okay, Jim” I grimace as he opens the door probably at my hopeless sounding response.

“What’s going on with you? Why’re you so tired?”

“It was just a long day, okay?”

“Alright,” he puts his hand sup in a defensive position “if you need to talk, I’m here- okay?” Leslie’s here too you know.”

“I know”

“Sleep well. Goodnight” he smile and closes the door, retreating most likely to have dinner with his fiance. 

I do half my homework, bored and unmotivated to finish the rest as I close my Algebra 2 textbook and put it sloppily back into my backpack, changing into pajamas and going to sleep. I think over the day as I try and fall asleep, wondering what’ll be in store tomorrow.

[egoiistas]

Attached

ITS NOT FMA. But I do love Legend of Zelda and I am having the time of my life with BOTW so I couldn’t help but write this omg. 

Spoilers about game mechanics and quirks, No story spoilers. We’ll see how far this goes. A traveler is a thread away from meeting her fate while travelling along Hyrule’s dangerous roads when Bokoblins ambush her. A blonde hero comes to her rescue, but she doesn’t want to part with just food Word Count: 839 Rating: K?  Humor - No pairings

Pain throbbed from her ankle to her shin. Kyasarin looked to the rock that jutted upwards, and she could swear that it was mocking her. She tried to stand on her feet, but the intensity of the injury made her knee buckle, collapsing her to the ground. Behind her, the Bokoblins that had chased her into the woods sounded nearer and nearer and she was in a small opening with no cover. Oh, Hylia. This is it.

Arms extended forward and with her good foot, she tried to crawl towards a bush as the screeches and yells of the Bokoblins resonated a few horse gallops away. Her heart thumped and the adrenaline that coursed through her wasn’t sufficient to push back the pain.

Bushes rustled and Kyasarin heard one of the Bokoblins alert the others. She thought of her mom and her little brother waiting for her in Hateno and the despair they’d experience if she died like her father.

She’d fight, by the Goddess, she’d fight until she couldn’t.

One of them took hold of her bad foot and she shrieked in surprise and pain. And for all that resolve, she wrapped her arms around her head and assumed the fetal position, hoping for swift death and mercy.

She waited and after a moment, she opened an eye she didn’t realize were shut. The Bokoblins were gone. Off to her left, the clanks and  rattles of weapons clashing sounded off. Kyasarin sat up to get a better view, but her current height only allowed her to see the tops of spears and swords above the bushes.

There were grunts and “Aaaya!”’s not typical of Bokoblins. Shards of blue light suddenly illuminated the shade of the trees, followed by expletives in Hylian that made her blush. Her heart leapt nonetheless, she was being rescued!

The final Bokoblin cried with its defeat with the telltale signs of a small “poof” and a purple cloud.

Again, Kyasarin waited, nails digging into the dirt in apprehension. Footfalls drew closer still, but they were more careful.

Through the foliage, a swordsman around the same age as her stepped towards her. Her jaw unwillingly dropped. He had deep golden hair pulled back into a ponytail, broad shoulders, and marbles for eyes as blue as the ocean from Hateno Beach. And pretty. Boy, was he pretty.

He extended a hand out to her. He was chivalrous to boot. “Are you okay? Can you stand?” When he noticed she just stared, he crouched down next to her to examine her injuries.

With his proximity, she smelled on him the wild. Not in a stenchy way, but the way the trees smelled in a summer breeze, or a fresh, dew-covered pasture on a spring morning. Her stupor shattered with his prodding finger on her ankle.

“Does that hurt?” He said slowly, probably assuming she hit her head. Out of all the things she saw in her few months of adventure, he topped them all.

Kyasarin hissed with exaggeration. “Oh! Ow! Yep, that’s going to swell.” It wasn’t.

He “tsk”ed, placing balled up hands to his hips. “That’s no good. Kakariko isn’t too far away. Do you need help getting there?”

If he dropped her at the nearest town, he’d go away. If he went away, she wouldn’t be able to reel him in. If she couldn’t reel him in, she’d come home single and her mother would force her to marry the snotty neighbor who caught crickets for a living. Kysarin pushed her panic to the back of her head. “I can’t go there.”

“Why not?”

“Because… uh of a cucco.”

“A cucco?”

“Farmer. Cucco Farmer. Swindled my family. Big name.”

“Cado?”

Her lips opened and closed, fearing he’d seen through her. “No, the other one.”

“There are two cucco farmers?”

“Yeah, the other one is on the other sides of the village past the humfrumferm.”  Kyasarin mumbled the last bit and hoped that he wouldn’t ask more question.

He thought for a second, bringing a pensive look to his face. He offered quickly.“I can take you to a stable?”

“I’m allergic to horses.” She blurted out.

“What?”

“It’s their…” Her head dipped and his eyes followed hers as she mustered an answer. “Saliva.”

His blue eyes narrowed suspiciously and she gulped; she blew it. He stood up from his crouch and took a step back. “You...aren’t part of a … certain clan, are you?”

“What?” Her brow furrowed in confusion. Where did that come from? “No?” Her tone curved with the inflection on the word.

“Oh,” He shrugged, showing a side of truthfulness she didn’t often see in strangers. As a matter of fact, most passersby would have let the Bokoblins get to her. He waved, “Okay. See you later then.”

“What! No, wait!” She called out, reaching out for him. “You can’t leave me here! Oh! I have food for you.”

He about-faced swiftly as soon as she said “food.”

“Let me cook it for you.” She said as a smile crept across her face.

[itsjugheadjones]

The Little Things || Veronica Lodge x Jughead Jones

word count : 1,525

pairing : Jughead Jones x Veronica Lodge

warnings : angst

summary : What started out as mutual respect turns into something much more than that. But Jughead realizes he had no chance with her with she stars on Archie.

a/n : i don’t want anyone attacking anyone else for this. i know how the shipping community is in riverdale but please...it’s not that big of a deal. people will like what they like. it’s not like this will become canon! c:

     Jughead never really thought much of Veronica Lodge. She was just a new girl in his mind, a new girl that came from a rich background(or once rich) with an attitude to match that. He didn’t have the time for such snotty people. The New York really wasn’t his type and so he had no real time for her. 

     He did have to admit that he was surprised to see her hanging around with Betty Cooper. The black haired girl and blonde seemed rather different. Having grown up around Betty, he’d known her as a teacher’s pets: someone way to nice to say one rude thing to anyone else. Of course he could totally see her hanging out with Archie Andrews, his ex best friend. They seemed like they would just gravitate towards each other without even Betty being a meeting point. But lucky for him, he was no longer friends with Archie so he didn’t have to deal with such a brat.

     Coming to terms with the fact he had to make up with Archie was a little hard for him. He felt so wronged by the red-head. He felt he didn’t deserve anything that he’d received from that guy. Jughead felt he had every right to hate his guts but the only thing he wanted was a simple ‘sorry’, that he never got. When he found out Archie was sleeping with Grundy, he had felt so disgusted. He never saw Archie as being weak, but watching Miss. Grundy prey on him made him want to vomit. Jughead also couldn’t believe Archie would defend her when Jughead confronted her. 

     It didn’t matter though, things would happen as they did and there was nothing Jughead would or could do. He could only be there for Archie and their mending friendship. That night at the diner had been the first time he really say and talked to Veronica Lodge. The girl he’d been so quick to write off. She wasn’t as bad as he thought. She was a strong women looking to change, of course he didn’t think Riverdale would be a good place to really change. It was a small town after all; all those places were usually stuck in their own ways. 

     After that night, Jughead found himself around the other girl a lot more often than he ever would have thought. He began to curse his preconceived idea about the river vixen, she was nothing like he originally thought. The more time he spent with the girl the more he realized they were kind of the same? Okay, not really but close. They both had such a strong personality, attitudes that were a force to be reckoned with, a sharp tongue that could cut deeper than any knife.  They were different but the same. 

     “Hey Jughead. I think you live here.” He heard Veronica say as she slid into the booth seat a-cross from him. He gave her a fake smile, continuing to type on his computer. “Very funny. It’s the only place i can focus to write, just so you know.”Jughead huffed out. If he hadn’t gotten so close to the other girl the last couple of weeks he wouldn’t have known she shrugged her shoulders before popping a fry into her mouth. “Hey! those are mine you know.” Jughead huffed. There was really only one rule he about Jughead: Never eat his food. Veronica rolled her eyes as she dusted the salt from her fingers. “Too salty for me anyways.” she huffed before leaned on the table towards Jughead. “I’m throwing a party and you need to be there, Jug.” She said with a large grin on her face.

     Jughead raised his eyebrows and slowly closed his laptop. “You do know who you are talking to? The pariah of the town, i carry the meanest plague. You want people to show up to that party of yours? Don’t invite me.” Jughead huffed. Veronica shook her head. “It’s a small thing with just the four of us. Things have been really stressed and I just want to have fun. As the newest member of our group; I took it upon myself to throw a..sleep over of sorts.” Veronica grinned and he knew he was hooked.  He couldn’t place why but that smile just made him melt. “Fine, I might-” “No! you will be there Jughead Jones. No ‘ands, ifs, or buts’ about it!” Veronica cut off before jumping up. “I’ll see you are my house in an hour.”

     An hour later he found himself in front of the Lodge house. He had half the mind to turn and walk away. But he felt he couldn’t let Veronica down...and it was a party for the four of them. When he knocked, Betty was the one to answer; the large innocent smile on her lips. “Hey Juggie. Everyone is in the living room. We were just about to put on a movie.” she said, motioning him to follow. “Oh great, what movie?” He asked but completely zoned out when he saw Archie and Veronica basically curled into each other on the couch. He didn’t exactly know why, but he could feel the strain on his heart and he had to force himself to look away. 

     “Isn’t that a good movie, Jug?” Betty said as she plopped down on the couch. “Huh? oh right. Yeah; it’s a good movie.” He said, going to sit on the chair. Jughead was confused, he didn’t have feeling for Veronica. He never had feelings for anyone.  It wasn’t like he to like other like that but then why did he care so much that Veronica was so close to Archie? He should have guessed it, pretty people just gravitate towards each other. 

     All through the movie, Jughead had to make sure he kept focus on the movie and not on the two cuddling on the couch. At the end credits, Jughead was out of that seat and claiming he had to go the bathroom. Everyone else in the room was rather confused by his actions, he was generally so relaxed about things; seeing Jughead so strung out was crazy.

     In twenty minutes, he had come up with a reason for him not being able to stay: his parents needed him. He just couldn’t sit in the same room having these feelings and act okay with everything. Jughead wouldn’t do that to himself. Coming back into the room and picking up his bag. “I’m sorry to cut this short. It’s been uh...real fun. But my parents need me so I gotta go..” He say, throwing his thumb over his shoulder as he backed away from the group. 

     Jughead glanced over at Veronica, who looked a bit sad at his sudden departure. “Oh, okay Juggie. We’ll see you later than!” Betty said happily, not even really catching on the feeling in the air. Jughead nodded, wringing his hands before turning an walking out the door. He wasn’t even down the steps when he heard his name being called. “Jughead, wait; what’s wrong.” It was Veronica and he didn’t know what to even say to her. On one hand telling her how he felt would get things off his chest but saying his feelings might ruin things again. 

     Jughead just shook his head. “Nothing, my parents really do need me.” He dismissed, looking almost anywhere but her. It was so different, he didn’t like this feeling. He didn’t feel like himself. “That’s a lie. Tell me right now what’s wrong. Is it cause Archie and you aren’t really better yet? Did Betty or I do something?” She asked, obviously worried something was terribly wrong. There was something wrong, but nothing with her. Never with her. “No, it’s not that. Uhm..IkindofreallylikeyourVeronica.” Jughead rushed, cheeks red as a tomato.

     Veronica looked confused, “What did you say, Jug?” She asked, her head tilting in the most adorable way. Oh, she would be the death of him. It was all the little things that made him feel this way. The way she stuck up for the underdogs, her ability to be so nice but so snarky, when she wrinkled her nose a little when she smiled a little to big..it was everything. At that moment he knew he just had to tell her or he should be living in regret of not telling her. “Okay, I really like you, Veronica. It’s all really new to me cause I’ve never liked anyone. But I saw you and Archie together on the couch so I know I don’t stand a chance but I guess-” He was cut off by warm lips pressed to his only for them to be removed moments later. “Relax Jug! Archie and I aren’t together and never will be. We were just cold and I didn’t put to pull out blankets” She said, smiling at him. “If that was the only thing wrong, We can figure this out. You’re an awesome guy and I want things to work out. For now, let’s just get back in there and watch the next movie.” Veronica said, smiling softly as she led Jughead back into her house.   

[bbwoulfc]

Play Fake, Kwami

Figured I have some fun and post it here.

Summary:  Sitting and enjoying the picnic with everyone, Marinette gets up to throw away her trash when she trips over Ivan's shoe. Falling to the grassy ground, Tikki falls out of her purse into the center of the grass for all to see. All look in shock and curiosity while Marinette internally freaks out.

"Uh, Marinette? What is that?"

'Oh shit.'

When identities are on the verge of being revealed, a bug did not expect the eagerness of a black cat.

You can read the rest here. 

http://archiveofourown.org/works/7784341/chapters/17756707

Chapter One: The Truth Be Told

It started off as the same old routine morning.  Marinette woke up in a panic realizing that she was running late for school.  Not that this was new for her, but the worse part about this was that today was the first day of school.  Of all days, it was the first day of lycée.

You would have thought that this girl would have learned her lessons by now to waking up early, but who could blame her when she’s Paris’s heroine, Ladybug, dealing with late night akuma battles.  Certainly not her.

Floating around Marinette, Tikki speaks up with urgency.  “Hurry, Marinette!  You’ll be late!”

“I’m trying, Tikki.  Of all people you know I’m not that big of a morning person.”  Marinette rushed back.

“Marinette, I’m not a person, I’m a god.”  Tikki giggled out.

Marinette gives her kwami a deadpan look before rushing back to getting ready.

Throwing off her pajamas, Marinette grabbed a pair of blue jean capris, a red t-shirt, and a thin black jacket.  Quickly, Marinette threw her clothes on for the day and sprinted to her bathroom.  Looking at the time, she didn’t have the chance to put her hair in her usual pigtails, and settled with placing her hair into a quick bun.

Satisfied enough, she placed a pair of black sneakers on her feet and rushed out of her room, down the stairs through her home and down to the bakery.  Grabbing a muffin to eat on the way to school, she shouts her goodbyes to her parents.

“Bye, Mama, bye, Papa!”

Waving to her parents, she speeds out of the front bakery’s door and rushes across the street towards the school.

*****

In the classroom, everyone was either in their seats or standing in their own little groups, all in their own conversations with one another.

In the front row, Nino was in his seat leaning against the back of the desk chair listening to his music.  Behind him, Alya was busy focused on her phone updating or editing her Ladyblog.

Sitting beside Nino, Adrien was leaning back against the desk chair, arms bent behind him as he rests his head against his arms.  Taking a breather, Adrien spends the moment in his own thoughts.

‘A whole year.  It’s been a year and Ladybug still refuses to wanting to know each other’s identities.  Does she really not trust me?’

Adrien takes a deep breath, chest extending out as he releases the built up air.  Feeling the tension of stress relieving as it exits his body.

‘Just once I wish I had luck on my side instead of this damn bad luck.  I wish I knew who my lady was.’

He gets startled from his thoughts when the school’s warning bell rings out.  Sighing, Adrien leans forward, resting his elbows on the top of his desk, his head resting in his palms when the classroom door slams open to see Marinette rushing inside.

Pausing, Marinette rested her hands on her knees as she takes the moment to catch her breath and recapture the much needed air that her lungs were currently screaming for.

“Girl, there you are!  I was worried you were going to be late.  Again.”  Greeted Alya.  

Marinette looks up at her baring a smile.  “Who, me?  Never!  It’s the first day of school, Alya.  Can’t be late for that, now can I?”

Chuckling, Alya shakes her head and looks back at her phone and types.  Leaning back up, Marinette composes herself and walks towards her seat.  Noticing Marinette walking forward, Nino removes his headphones and greets her, Adrien following right behind.

“What up, dude?”  Nino says with a smile.

“Morning, Mari.”  Adrien greets with his model smile.

Looking at the two boys, Marinette greets them in return.

“Morning, Nino.”  She looks at Adrien, a light blush crossing her face.  “Morning, Adrien.”

Turning her head forward, Marinette ascends the stairs to her seat and slides in and begins chatting with Alya, talking about their summer and what they did when they weren’t hanging out with the other or the boys.

In the front, a smile still adorns on Adrien’s face after Marinette left to sit in her seat.  He occasionally eavesdropping on their summer and missing everyone.

Remembering his time so far with his friends since he’s started school, he’s grateful to have close friends like Nino, Alya, and Marinette.  Those three were the best and closest friends he has and will ever have, well, other than Ladybug, but no one needs to know that fact.  He wouldn’t trade them for anything.

His days even got better when Marinette and him got closer over the past eight months.  Her stuttering had finally disappeared and both were able to have a full and complete conversation together.  It was the best.  The better moments being the days that he and Marinette got to spend together while Alya and Nino became busy with each other, doing who knows what.  Not that whatever certain activities they do together is a bad thing.  He’s just grateful those two lovebirds gave him an excuse to hang out with Marinette.

Ah, Marinette.

An amazing, talented, and overall incredible girl.  He wouldn’t lie, he’s always had a little crush on Marinette the day he met her.  The more he got to know her, that little crush grew into something more.  Adrien only wishes he didn’t have Ladybug in his life at the same time.  It’s difficult having two amazing girls that are important to him and he can only choose one.  It’s a conflict he deals with on a regular basis.

When the final bell rings, Ms. Bustier walks into the classroom, placing her belongings on the desk, and begins writing on the chalkboard.  As the day’s lesson commence, everyone quiets down and turns their focus towards the board as they wait for their teacher to begin.

*****

With the morning part of classes over, the bell rings signaling lunch as students stand up and begin packing their belongings.

“Hey, what’s everyone doing for lunch today?”  Rose asked everyone with sweetest tone to her voice.

All the students looked up, a few giving a shrug of the shoulder unsure of any plans.

Beaming, Rose continued, “Well, how about we all go to the park by Marinette’s place and have a welcome back picnic?”

“That sounds fun!”  Alya was the first to speak up.  “It’ll be nice to catch up with everyone now that summer is over.”

Liking the idea, everyone nods in agreement except for Chloe.

“Seriously?  Who wants to sit on the grass?  I am not going outside to stain these expensive styled clothes.  I’m going to go to restaurant with the most exquisite food and comfortable seating.”

“No one said you had to go miss spoiled brat.”  Alix said flatly.

Chloe scoffed.  “You all are just jealous.”  She looks at Adrien.  “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to get dirty right, Adrikins?”  She gives him a smug smile.

Over the years, Adrien has finally realized the person Chloe has become.  He will never understand or know what caused her to be this way.  In all honestly, he can’t stand the girl and her snotty rich girl behavior.

As calm and nicely he can muster, “Sorry, Chlo, but I’m not going.  I’d rather hang out outside with friends than the stuffy indoors of restaurants.”

Disgusted and annoyed, Chloe marches off, calling Sabrina to follow as both girls exit the classroom.

With the two girls gone, everyone else finally exit the classroom and head to a nearby café and order lunch to go for the picnic.

Once everyone ordered and received their meals, all walked together towards the park by Marinette’s home.  Arriving, they walk through the gates and begin searching for a location large enough for their group.  Finding a nice area on the grass, everyone sits down, forming a circle so all could see one another and begin eating their lunches.

It doesn’t take long before the large group of friends start up on conversations.

While eating, the group decide to play a small game to help time pass.

“Alright.”  Kim spoke.  “How about we play Would You Rather.”

Everyone gives a nod for the game and Kim picks the topic.  With a smile, Kim asks the question.

“Let’s begin.  Would you rather date Ladybug or Chat Noir?”

“Why do topics always fall on Ladybug and Chat Noir?” Asked Max.

“Because they’re the most popular thing out of Paris.  Now just accept it and answer the question.”  Kim shot back.  “I’ll start.  I’d date Ladybug.”

For Marinette and Adrien, they weren’t sure how to handle the question.  They weren’t even sure if they wanted to know who would want to date them.  Yet, at the same time it could be interesting.  All they had to do was not blush at the thought of hearing their alter ego’s name.

“Chat Noir.  He would seem fun to compete with.”  Said Alix.

“Ladybug.  She seems sweet enough to talk to and get to know.”  Nathanael added his choice.

“I would also choose Ladybug.  She would be resourceful when danger arose.”  Max added.

“Oh!  I would choose Chat Noir.  He just looks so sweet and adorable!”  Rose said excitingly.

“Ladybug.”  Ivan and Mylene said in unison.

“Ladybug.  She just seems cool.”  Juleka answered.

“Totally got to go with Ladybug.  She’s pretty looking.”  Responded Nino.

“Excuse me?”  Alya asked, looking at her boyfriend.

“Whoa babe, it’s cool.  I said she’s pretty, but you’re hotter.  Like totally hotter than her.”  Nino shot back to ease his girlfriend.

“That’s what I thought.”  Alya said in return.  “But, you’re right.  I would choose Ladybug as well, she’s bad ass.”  Alya gave Nino a smirk.

Now it was Adrien’s turn, but he knew it wasn’t much of a debate.  “Ladybug, hands down.  She’s just amazing and incredible.”

Marinette cautiously turns her head away, hiding the blush that surfaced on her cheeks.  If only Adrien knew that Ladybug was sitting right next to him.

After hearing Adrien’s answer, it was Marinette’s turn.

“I would have to go with Chat Noir.  He’s incredibly loyal, humble, and amazing.”

“Sounds like you have a thing for him, Mari.  With those words and all.”  Said Alix.

Beside Marinette, Adrien couldn’t help with the dark blush that crossed along his features.  He couldn’t help but feel giddy at hearing those words.  It’s not often he hears someone say good things about him.  Thankfully nobody noticed his red cheeks.

‘Does Marinette really think that about me?’

“What can I say?”  Responded Marinette.  “It’s not hard to imagine what lies under that leather suit of his.  One can have use their imagination.”

Everyone cracks a smile and start laughing and agree with her statement.

If only Marinette could she what she was doing to Adrien right now.  His warm face, the blush growing darker, could possibly match the red color of Ladybug’s suit.

Moving away from the game, they all get lost in more conversations, soon everyone realizing how much they need to do these outings with the entire group more.

While Kim was telling a story, Marinette opened her purse to place a cookie she bought from the café for Tikki to eat.

Grabbing her trash beside her in one of her hands, she stands up, moving forward and ready to shut her purse when she trips over one of Ivan’s shoes, falling forward.  Landing flat on the ground with a thud, all watch Marinette’s tumble and witness a little red and black dotted bug like creature tumble along the grass, halting to the center where all can see.

Shooting up on her knees and hands, Marinette looks at her kwami in shock, eyes wide and fearing the worse.  Looking around, all her friends stare at the little creature.  As Marinette looks back at Tikki, she can see her kwami on her back, eyes open with a toothy smile, arms out, completely motionless like a small toy.

“Uh, Marinette.  What is that?”

‘Oh god!  Please let them think this is a toy!’ Marinette internally screams to herself.

Alix is the first to move and picks up Tikki, rotating Tikki around to look at the craftsmanship.  Marinette stiffens at the sight of her kwami being picked up and held.

“Wow.  Marinette, were did you get this toy?  It’s totally cool looking.”  Alix says in amazement.

All the others start gathering around to look closer at Tikki, admiring the toy and detail.  Each taking turns holding the creature and smiling.

When Marinette doesn’t answer, they all look up to her.

“Marinette?” asked Alix.

“U-uh…I…uh.”  Marinette didn’t know what to say honestly.  She had to think quickly for the sake of her identity.  “I…I got it from my uncle!  Yea that right!”  Marinette almost shouted out.  “M-my uncle from China.  It’s a new toy that just started being prototyped two months or so ago.  He thought I would like it so he sent it to me.”

‘Please!  Please for the love of god believe this story!’

“That’s so cool!” Rose shouted.

“What are they called?”

‘Shit!’

“Uh…they’re…”

She couldn’t honestly believe her luck.  How the hell is she going to survive this?  There is no way she can get away with saying it’s a kwami.  ‘Oh you know, they’re called kwami and shockingly she’s real and helps me turn into Ladybug.  No big deal.’  Well, it’s not like her luck is getting any better.

Taking a deep breath, Marinette exhales as she replies, “Th-they’re called Kwamis.”

Marinette internally screams at herself.  She can only pray that Tikki won’t get mad at her later today when they’re alone.  She will personally make a dozen cookies for her for simply managing holding still for this long period of time.

As some look at Marinette or Tikki, their expressions are full of excitement and completely intrigued.  Everyone, except Adrien.  Marinette couldn’t see Adrien beside her, but his expression was full on shock and completely dumbstruck.  Eyes completely wide and pupils shrunken and mouth agape.

His mind had literally crashed and malfunctioned when he heard Marinette say ‘kwami’.

‘What?! WHAT?!  Did she just say what I think she said?!  Did she seriously just say that creature was a kwami?!’

Snapping out of his internal shock; the others go back to looking at Tikki when Adrien moves his gaze to look at Marinette.  He takes in all her features and begins comparing them to his lady.

Adrien sees that she had the same Bluish raven colored hair, the freckles he absolutely adores running along her cheeks, the adorable face, and finally, those bluebell eyes that he could get lost into and not care if he ever returned.  His mind combusted from the entire revelation.

‘Holy Shit she’s My Lady!’

As the facts come crashing down into place, Adrien literally begins having another malfunction.

As his face goes back to shock, everything begins to make sense to him.  Marinette is his lady.  Marinette is Ladybug!  If their friends weren’t around he would no doubtingly jump up with the biggest grin on his face and shout to the heavens that his beloved lady, the love of his life, is his amazing friend, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  How could he have been so blind?  And lucky!  He was definitely lucky today.

With the overall shock slowly coming to a low, he comes back to the voices as he hears another question be said to Marinette.

“What other designs do they have, Mari?”

Marinette freezes as she as slowly come to halt and at a loss of what to say.  Lucky for her, an out had just arrived.

Taking that as his opportunity, Adrien gives the biggest grin as he speaks up, to overwhelmed with joy and excitement to care about hiding his identity anymore, especially with his lady right there.

“Maybe I can help with that.”

Everyone turns their attention to Adrien, Marinette responding as well as her head snaps back to him.  All looking at Adrien, they see him with the brightest grin on his face. “As a matter of fact, I have a kwami of my own.”  Said Adrien.

Reaching into his bag, Adrien can feel Plagg trying to dodge his hand but Adrien quickly grabs Plagg and pulls him out of the bag.  Before Plagg was officially taken out, he froze himself into a sitting position like an actual cat would, only to have an angry expression on his face.  His green eye bright and pupils partially slit.

Reaching into his bag, Adrien pulls out Plagg, his kwami going completely stiff in his hands.  Before Plagg was taken out, he froze into a sitting position like an actual cat would, only to have an angry feature on his face.

Everyone looks at Adrien’s and start complementing on how cool and awesome his looked.  All amazed with the detail on his kwami just like Marinette’s.

“Whoa.  Yours is so cool.”

“Thanks.”  Said Adrien.  “He’s such a grump cat.”  Only smirking due to this whole situation.

While the others continue talking, Marinette stares at Adrien with complete shock hovering over her features and unsure how to process what had just occurred.  Adrien has a kwami!  What the hell is going on?!

Marinette’s gaze turned to his kwami, seeing the features of the creature looking very much resembling that of a cat, only to look back at Adrien.  Adrien’s gaze turned to Marinette’s, his grin growing wider, his emerald green eyes sparkling with excitement, and gives her a wink.

‘That smile.  That smile is only seen on Chat Noir.’  Marinette’s eyes bug out and her jaw drops as realization hits her.  ‘HOLY SHIT! Adrien is Chat Noir.  Chat Noir is Adrien.  Holy flipping shit!!  This cat is so dead!’

“How did you get yours, Adrien?”

Easily, Adrien just smiles and responds confidently.  “My father got it for me when he was in China for a business trip.  He thought it would make a good gift.”

“Damn.  You two are so lucky.  If I had a way of getting one, I totally would.”  Said Kim.

All the others nod their head in agreement.

Checking the time; lunch is coming to an end as everyone picks up their trash to toss away and start heading back towards the school.

As everyone leaves, Marinette receives Tikki back and holds her close.  With everyone facing forward, Tikki moves and takes a breather.

“That was astounding.  I can’t believe they all bought that.”  Tikki spoke as she looks at Marinette, only to see her chosen still completely speechless.

“Well, I found it rather enlightening.”

Marinette turns her head to see Adrien standing beside her with the biggest and most exciting grin to ever cross his face, his kwami, Plagg floating on the side.

Her eyes narrow, brows furrowing as she stares at Adrien with a frustrated look.

“You’re in so much trouble, chaton.”

“As long as you’re the one doing the punishment, I purr-sonally don’t give a damn, my lady.”  A playful shit eating grin playing on his face.

Lips thinning, she continues to stare at him, “You’re unbelievable.”

“You know you love me, bugaboo!”  Adrien said jokingly, even though he truly meant it.

Unfortunately, Adrien was right, thought Marinette, but two can play this game.

Swiftly, Marinette grabs Adrien by his shirt, gripping hard as she pulls him face to face, a small yelp emitting from Adrien.  A smirk takes place on Marinette’s lips as Adrien’s features becoming startled, gulping with the intense stare she was giving him.

“You’re right.  I do love you, mon minou.  You are my paws-tively adorkable, handsome kitty cat.”

Before Adrien could process her voice and her making a pun, he feels Marinette place her lips against his, sealing both in a kiss.

Before he could respond back, Marinette breaks the kiss and releases Adrien.  She takes pride as a smile forms on her face seeing the dumbstruck expression contorting on Adrien’s face.  She chuckles as it seems Adrien as stopped functioning, completely motionless as he stares out to nowhere in particular.

Marinette finds the reaction adorable.

“Come, chaton.  Class awaits us.”

With that, Marinette starts heading towards her friends in the distance towards the school.

Blinking, Adrien snaps out of his trance and turns over to look at Marinette.  She stops, feeling his gaze on her, and glances back, her head slightly looking behind her shoulder.  She gives him a smile, Adrien knowing all too well that look is the confidence of Ladybug, only such a smile like that to be seen on his lady’s face, and one that he finds mesmerizing.  She turns her head and continues walking.

Letting everything re-sink in, Adrien breaks out in a Chat Noir grin and chases after Marinette.

How could he not?  It’s only the beginning of more fun to come.

[thdorkmagnet]

Flags

Okay so this is my little one-shot for the Star vs episode, “Game of Flags”. An alternate universe take on what I originally thought was going to happen in the episode, just maybe a bit more “Disney-fied”. It was a good way to introduce my writing to the Stardom and so I thought this was a really good one to start with on here too. Hope you enjoy!

“Let's just go back down the hill,” Marco said to his bestie, Star. Star looked on at the destruction and carnage her fellow family members were inflicting on each other. Star looked down, pondered what Marco had said. Was she really changing because of a game? Was she becoming ruthless and cruel to those she was closest to just so she could plant her flag at the top of the hill first?

Star looked back to Marco, his face hopeful, his eyes pleading with her to please listen to him, just this once. For a moment Star was tempted to go with her bestie, to apologize for her behavior and accept defeat just this once. Star felt her grip tighten on the flag, feeling the pressure to conform to a side. But no matter how she tried she couldn't bring herself to do it. All her life she had wanted to prove herself in flags, as she had watched her family do for year after year. Even as a little girl Star had wanted the chance to prove herself, to show her mother and everyone else that she was just as good as them. And she had even hoped that maybe if she could earn their respect she could finally get her mother to lay off of her for once and to give her some room to grow on her own. Now, after all those years she was finally given a chance. And her desire to win was the strongest it had ever been. This was more then winning some game, it was proving she was a grown up, that she was capable of doing things on her own. There was no option, she reasoned. She had to win, no matter what.

For a second Marco saw Star pulling toward him, as if wanting to go with him and his smile widened. “Sorry Marco, but I have to win this game,” she replied, her voice uncharacteristically hard. Before Marco could even react she turned around and ran away, up the hill with the rest of her family, leaving Marco alone. Marco felt tears rise up in his eyes. Star just left him, all because of a stupid game. “Star?” he murmured, though he knew she was gone. He just couldn't comprehend the idea of her abandoning him like that.

Marco watched as she ran off out of sight and then, depressed, turned to go back. But Marco couldn't bring himself to leave. Something was stopping his feet from moving, freezing him in place.  What if something happened to her? His thoughts asked. Marco had seen what this game did to people. This game was dangerous and even as strong as Star was, she wasn't invincible. He realized that if he were to walk back down that hill he would never be able to forgive himself.

And yet there was still that little voice at the back of his mind, telling him to run, telling him it would be safer to just leave and go back down that hill. His old safety habits that he despised were desperately trying to get him to obey their whim, practically screaming their frantic messages. Marco felt torn between his feelings for Star and his old “Safe Kid” habits that refused to die out. But Marco knew which he would choose. After all, he had always hated his safe ways and had already chosen to rebuke them in favor of his self-proclaimed “bad boy” image. Besides, Star was his bestie, he had to be there for her, he needed to protect her. She may not want a hero, but that wasn't gonna stop him from trying to be one. The choice was simple, there was only one way Marco could go. Marco, ignoring his safety instincts, turned to where Star had run off to and quickly followed after her.

…

Star was so close to winning. She could feel it. As she got farther and farther away from Marco, Star was finally able to get her train of thought back in it's proper place. Flags wasn't changing her. Marco didn't know what he was talking about. In fact, she wasn't even sure what Marco's point had ever been. Flags, dangerous? Ha, as if. Flags was a great game, yeah you tried to hurt each other but that was just how you played. In flags, treachery was just part of the game. Besides, no one ever got really hurt in flags. Sure, Uncle Lump had lost his body, but he was happy with his new one... for some reason. Marco was just overreacting. His old safe habits shining though once again. It was sweet but Star had already told him she could take care of herself. And now was her chance to prove it to him. She was gonna show Marco and her mom that Star Butterfly was a grown up.

Star's thoughts were interrupted as she reached the top of the hill, surrounded by the playful carnage of her relatives, as they tried to prove who was the best. As of right now, Star had gone unnoticed by her family, who were too distracted by their own battles to notice her. Star realized her opportunity and swore not to waste it. She quickened her pace, ready to plant her flag in its proper place, when her snotty Uncle Heartrude stepped in her way. Welll, stepped in the way was a strong word. More like crawled in the way, his legs still prohibited by the bear-trap.

Star managed to bring herself to a stop without falling on top of her relative. To her surprise, her uncle produced a bow and arrow from... um, behind him.

“Ah, mine niece, prepare to face thine end... at thine end...,” her uncle chuckled cruelly. An awkward silence followed for a second, before he added hesitantly, “For it is the game's end-”

“Uh, yeah I got it,” Star interrupted.

“Oh. Well then...”

“Uhh, where did you even keep that?” Star asked, pointing to the large bow and arrow.

“That is for thine to know and you to never find thy out!” Heartrude answered in a mocking tone, sticking his tongue out at Star.

“Whatever,” Star said with a roll of her eyes. “Now move so I can plant my flag at the top of the hill.”

“Oh, you won't be planting anything anywhere, dear niece,” Heartrude replied, with a cruel hardness to his voice, as he drew the string back on his bow. Star got into a defensive stance and prepared for the arrow to be released.

Marco spotted Star ahead, as he weaved his way through the crazed royals, and saw that jerkface Heartrude with an arrow pointing right at Star. Marco moved, he didn't think, he didn't react, he just moved. Nothing was more important now then getting to Star before that arrow was sent hurtling. Nothing.

Just as the arrow was released, Star swerved to the side, the arrow missing her by mere inches, coming so close, in fact, that Star could feel the air whoosh past her as it hissed past at breakneck speeds. Star easily recovered getting back in her defensive position with a cocky grin on her face. But what she failed to see was that the arrow was now on a collision course with Marco as, in his desperate attempt to reach Star, he stepped right into the projectiles target range.

Marco didn't even have time to react as the arrow stuck itself deep into his shoulder, making him yelp and fall to his knees. He reached up and clutched tightly onto his arm as warm blood soaked his hand and dripped onto the grass below, blending in with his hoodie and shading it darker.

Star was surprised to see the look of horror on her Uncle Heartrude's face, as she heard a small yell behind her. Not one of anger or malice like the rest of her family, but one of surprise and pain. Time seemed to slow as she turned in the direction of the yell, only to see her bestie Marco, hunched over in pain, blood slowly dripping down from the arrow that remained planted in Marco's shoulder. The world around Star froze and fell apart. Star felt a million emotions wash over her at once. Sickness, guilt, grief, anger, pain, fear, all flowed through her like fire, burning her insides and giving her a hurt feeling all over. She ran to her friend, as hot tears streamed down her eyes, the game forgotten, Star's flag hitting the grass with a clank.

Marco was breathing heavily when she reached him, pools of sweat dripping down his face, as it grew paler and paler. Star hesitated, reaching out to touch him, but afraid to hurt him. Marco looked up at her and Star saw tears of pain in his eyes as he managed to squeak out one word, “Star!”

It was a plea, begging for her to do something to make the pain stop. Star felt the hearts on her cheeks crack and break apart, much like her own heart was doing. But the plea managed to get Star's hands in motion as they managed to wrap around him and draw him closer to her, pulling him into a hug.

“It's okay, Marco. I'm here,” Star said in the most calming voice she could manage, but the quivering edge to her voice was unmistakable. Marco only coughed in response, shuddering against Star's body in a way that had nothing to do with it being cold. Star ran her hands up and down his back as she tried to make sense of this sudden situation she had found herself in. How had this happened? How had this simple game turned so deadly, so suddenly? What had changed so drastically, that Marco had been so badly hurt over?

Star felt a cold realization sweep through her as the truth finally found it's way into Star's brain. Nothing had changed. From the vary beginning, this game had been dangerous, it had been a way for her family to hurt one another, a way to enjoy the thrill of getting revenge. It wasn't a game of pride or victory, it was a game of malice and hate. Memories flowed through Star as all the previous warning signs showed themselves to her. She had seen how horrible it was and yet... and yet she had played anyways, dragging her best friend into her mess. She should have known better then to let Marco play. Marco wasn't a Mewmain, they could get stuck in a beartrap and be fine, they could lose their body and just get it replaced no problem, but when Marco got hurt, he bled. Every hit he took left a scar.

Star felt the tears falling down her cheeks as she said in a shaky voice, “I'm so sorry Marco. This-This is all my fault. I-I never should have played this stupid game.”

Marco said nothing, as she pulled away from him, letting his body rest in her arms. His face was scrunched up with pain and he looked like he was on the verge of losing consciousness, as blood continued to pour out of his wound, soaking Star's dress. Star knew very little about humans, but she was positive they weren't supposed to lose so much blood.

“Here, I-I'm gonna try to-” Star, as gently as she could, grabbed a hold of the arrow and gave it a small pull. Marco's reaction was instant, as he grunted in pain, his body immediately tensing up, causing Star to pull her hand away from the arrow. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. It's okay, your gonna be okay,” she said, her voice shaky and unsure. Star had never experienced anything like this before. Usually she knew what she was doing. Usually she could laugh her way through her troubles and all would be fine, but right now everything was frightening and real and Star had no idea of how to fix it. There was no waiting for the problem to go away. And as Marco lay in her arms, slowly losing the precious red liquid he required to live, Star had never felt so alone.

But then, Star remembered where she was, she was surrounded by her relatives. Surely they would have noticed something was amiss. By this point, someone would have announced Marco's injury and help would be on the way. Everything was going to be fine. The smile returned to Star's face once again as she turned to the rest of her family, expecting to see worried, sympathetic faces surrounding her and her hurt bestie.

But the smile vanished as she saw only the same scene as before, her family trapped in an endless game of violence and hurt. Not one person had noticed Marco's injury, not one person had seen Star's frantic actions to try to mend her broken friend, no one had noticed anything. Even Heartrude had joined back in the fight, quickly losing in a rather one-sided brawl with a muscled up Johannsen barbarian. The shock Star felt was groundbreaking, her face the picture of disbelief. Star's breath was hollow and ragged, as anger coursed through her body, making her blood boil. How? How could they be so caught up in some stupid game, that they hadn't even noticed the dire situation unfolding around them? How could they not see one of their own suffering as the most precious thing in the universe to her, died in her arms?! How could they be so blind?!

Star's fury exploded, all her stress and anger releasing itself from her body all at once, as she screamed at the top of her lungs, “STOP!!”

Star slowly opened her eyes, panting, shocked at the total silence that now filled the area. Star nearly jumped as she saw every single member of her family standing stock still as if frozen in time, a dark blue energy surrounding them. Star felt worry and guilt, frightened that, in her moment of anger, she may have turned her magic on her own flesh and blood. Star looked frantically around for her wand, careful not to jolt around Marco's now unconscious body too much.

“Oh, no,” She said, her voice a broken whimper, as her hand felt the blood soaked grass for any sign of her wand. “Please tell me I didn't just do that.”

“You didn't,” a voice said above her, soft yet full of authority. Star looked up and saw her mother, in full Mewberty form, floating above her, her skin a bright blue, her massive butterfly wings spread to their full glory. Star felt relief and comfort wash over her at the sight of her mother, despite knowing how angry she probably was with Star for disobeying her. “I did,” her mother finished landing gently on the ground in front of Star, her skin returning to its normal color and her wings folding up and out of sight once more.

“Mom,” Star cried, her voice a squeak as fear still held tight to her throat. Moon's face was impassive as her eyes drifted from Star's to the unconscious Latino still held in her daughters arms. Star's gaze followed her mothers and she felt guilt wash over her as she saw Marco's pain ridden face, his body incased in the blue magic as well, preventing any more blood from seeping out of the wound. The tears streamed down her face anew, her whole body wrenching as sobs escaped from her lips, all the stress and worry she felt releasing itself in painful waves.

“I-I'm so sorry,” Star sobbed, her voice choked and raw from crying. “I-I-I should have listened to you. You were right. Flag's is dangerous and stupid. You tried to warn me a-and Marco tried to stop me but I didn't listen and now-” Star sobbed, unable to complete her words, unable to imagine a life without her Marco, her bestie, her crush, by her side.

Moon's face softened at the sight of her daughter's distress and she gently placed a hand on Star, who jumped at her touch. Star locked eyes with her mom, confusion and guilt evident in her glassy eyes. But Moon gave her a sympathetic smile before softly whispering, “It's all right sweetie. I know you didn't mean for this to happen. You just wanted to feel included. And I should have understood that. But now I need you to believe me when I say that everything will be fine.”

“B-b-but Marco-”

“Will be fine,” Moon interrupted, before waving a hand over Star's bestie. Instantly, the wound in Marco's shoulder began to mend, as time reversed itself on his arm alone, the blood seeping back into the wound. As the wound began to close in on itself, Moon reached down and plucked the arrow out of Marco's shoulder, allowing his skin to reform fully, leaving no trace of the cut whatsoever, only a tear in his hoodie where the hole had been.

Star held her breath, as Marco's unconscious body lay in her arms, unmoving. Then, after what felt like a lifetime, Marco's body shifted in Star's grasp as his eyes slowly opened. Star felt tears in her eyes once more, but unlike before these were tears of joy and relief. Star smiled at Marco as he slowly awakened, his eyes narrowing, finding difficulty in focusing in the harsh sunlight that attacked his unguarded pupils. Finally, Marco seemed to be able to see clearly once again, his brown eyes finding her blue. “Star,” Marco whispered his voice still tight and constricted.

“Marco!” Star screamed bringing him close, and holding him in the tightest hug she had ever given, feeling her twin hearts reforming once again. Marco weakly brought an arm around her, trying to return the hug despite the overwhelming exhaustion he still felt. Star sobbed into Marco's shoulder, feeling both guilt and relief in a strange mixture. “I'm so sorry,” Star sobbed, clinging tightly to her best friend, seeking comfort in his touch. “I never should have brought you along. It's because of me you got hurt. It's because of me you almost...” Star sobbed unable to even voice the fear that had consumed her for the last terrifying couple of minutes.

“Don't say that Star,” Marco croaked, his arm finally managing to wrap itself around her small frame. “I-I know you didn't mean to. You had no way of knowing.”

“B-but I-”

“No. No more beating yourself up over it.” Despite how exhausted he sounded, the comforting edge to his tone soothed Star in a way that only her Marco could. And as his hand ran up and down her back, Star's sobs slowly dyed down under Marco's gentle touch.

“Besides it was my fault too.” Star's eyes widened, unable to believe after everything that had happened Marco was blaming himself for Star's mistake. “I didn't mean to make you feel like you had to prove yourself to me. And if I had just trusted you to do things on your own in the first place this never-”

Marco's voice was cut off, as Star gently put her lips against his own. Marco's eyes widened unable to believe that Star was, in fact, kissing him. For a moment Marco lost all functionality of his brain, though he wasn't sure if it was due to his still tired state or the fact that Star's lips were so ridiculously soft against his own that they were completely consuming his every thought. To be honest he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. This was his first kiss after all. Wait! This was his first kiss! But he had always dreamed of his first kiss, even practicing it in the mirror sometimes without anyone’s knowledge, and it had never, ever involved Star. It was always Jackie that had been on the receiving end of the kiss. So why, despite the fact that this was completely destroying his 23-Step plan to win Jackie's heart, did this feel so... right? Finally, Marco gave in to the kiss, allowing it to deepen, losing himself to the taste that could only be described as Star. And he slowly began to realize that he liked this. He liked this kiss. He liked Star. Who would have thought that it would take almost dying to realize he had a feelings for his bestie?

Star kissed Marco tenderly, pouring all of her emotions and feelings into this one single act. She knew it was a risk, that there was a chance Marco would never return her feelings. And she was afraid of how much this would change her and Marco's relationship, that this could very well not only bend their friendship but break it altogether. And that thought alone had been enough to silence the feelings that were slowly growing inside her over the last couple of months. But now, after coming so close to losing Marco she realized she couldn't waste another second without showing him how she felt. So she enjoyed the kiss, making it last as long as she could, knowing that this could very well be her last. She had no idea how Marco would react when it was over.

Moon wiped a tear from her eye glad to see her daughter experiencing happiness that she had been denied in the name of her family's legacy. She knew she had been very restrictive to Star growing up, trying to turn her into the queen she had thought she needed to be, but now she saw that Star was turning into the queen that she needed to be, one she was becoming all on her own.

Without even knowing it, her magic released on the surrounding family members, all of them falling hard to the floor, groaning in pain and exhaustion. River slowly rose up beside his wife, his whole body covered in bruises and bumps. “It seems, she is turning into a true queen after all, River,” Moon happily whispered unable to look away from the scene the two teenagers were displaying.

“It would seem so, my love,” River replied with a smile, putting an arm around his queen. “And she did it all on her own.”

“Yes, she did,” Moon replied, her voice getting choked up in sweetness of the moment.

“But I do have one question, my dear.”

“Yes, River?”

“Which one of them is our daughter again?” River asked squinting, unable to tell the two colorful blobs from each other, his voice slurred and unfocused. Moon's eyes narrowed, the moment shattering into a million pieces as her husband swayed back and forth on his feet, barely conscious. “And why are they giving each other mouth to mouth?” Moon put a hand to her face, feeling exasperated at her clearly delirious husband. “Because River, one of them almost died,” she said, barely held frustration evident in her voice. “Oh. Well if you ask me, my daughter is too young to be giving mouth to mouth to anyone...” River muttered before collapsing on the ground once again. Moon gave an exasperated sigh, before her Aunt came up behind her saying, “You know it's never too late to-”

“Yes, Aunt Etheria I know.”

Meanwhile the other royals began to recover as well, rising unsteadily to their feet, their battered bodies exhausted and sore, but rather than jumping into another round of combat with each other, their attention was solely focused on the two young ones sharing their first kiss together. The two clans were mesmerized by the sight, unable to believe that this hill could hold something more than hate and violence, as below the announcer's voice boomed out to the watching crowd of onlookers, still waiting for a winner to be declared. “And now it seems Princess Butterfly seems to be, uhm, making out with her best frienddd... oh goodness what's his name, umm, Karate Boy. Who seems to be very much enjoying the kiss. And it seems their kiss is so good that both the Butterfly's and Johannsen's have stopped fighting and are just... watching the two of them. Will anyone attempt to claim victory of the hill?”

Uncle Heartrude slowly rose to his feet, having been caught up in Moon's magic as well. But luckily, at some point during his beating, I mean fight, his legs had become free from the uncomfortable trap and he was now ready to continue the game. He turned, but instead of seeing the usual clashing of the clans, he saw only a silent gathering of two kingdoms, no one fighting or attacking, no screams of hate or hurt, no treachery of any kind, just silence. Heartrude was confused at first until he saw the source of everyone's attention, his niece. She and that boy she was always with, Mango or something, were kissing, a long drawn out kiss that had drawn everyone's attention on the two. Heartrude felt his envy grow. Of course his perfect little niece would resort to such things, kissing a common boy from Earth of all places just to get all the attention for herself. Typical Star so in need of affection she was willing to throw herself at the first boy she got her hands on, it was absolutely disgusting. If anyone deserved attention around here, it was him. At least he acted like a proper Butterfly unlike his destined-to-be-queen niece. Heartrude rolled his eyes, wishing he could be given the chance to show everyone who really deserved the throne. Then, he realized he was surrounded by chances! Chances that, as of now, were all but forgotten by the Mewnian monarchs. Heartrude chuckled darkly to himself, slowly sneaking closer to his target, a discarded flag, victory finally within his grasp.

Star finally pulled away from Marco, watching him intently, mentally bracing herself for the rejection that was surely coming. But Marco, in fact, had no reaction at all, just staring at her blankly, with wide, emotionless eyes. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Marco blinked and gave Star a lovesick, puppy dog smile that turned Star into a giggling mess over how goofy he looked.

“W-what was that?!” he finally asked, his voice a stutter, his whole face flushed bright red. Star was silent, afraid of the change, afraid to face a world without her bestie at her side. Finally, Star took a deep breath and let the words she had kept concealed for so long flow out of her, bringing her a strange sense of relief, her mouth moving a mile a minute.

“I-I have a crush on you Marco. I always have, well not always. At first, we were just friends and I was glad you were my bestie. But then, after the Blood Moon Ball and Toffee and all the other stuff I started to realize that I liked you as more than just my best friend. But you still like Jackie and I didn't want to get in the way and I was afraid if I told you would turn me down and things would become awkward and I would have to leave Earth and-”

Star stopped as Marco gave her the softest kiss on the lips, the feeling of his lips brushing against hers sending shivers down her spine. He pulled away looking deep into her sky blue eyes a smile on his face. “I have a crush on you too.”

Star said nothing, just staring at him, her cheek marks glowing a bright red until she started to laugh pulling him into a hug, which he happily returned. The two enjoyed the feeling of each others warmth, sharing their first hug as a couple. As they did, every relative gave a deep “Ahhhh,” to which both Star and Marco froze mid-hug, remembering where exactly they were and who all was watching. They looked around at all the expecting, watching eyes of Star's family, their faces equal shades of red, as they gave each other nervous, yet heartfelt, grins, suddenly feeling awkward in each others arms.

The royals quickly gathered around the two, forming a tight knit circle, as they began cooing and ahhing at their young heir and her new boyfriend, who were very uncomfortable being the center of attention, slowly pulling away from each other but not quite breaking their hug. They all began talking at once to the young couple, all thoughts of violence and hate forgotten, as young love consumed the minds of the battered families.

“They are so cute together.”

“My, my Star when is the wedding.”

“Forget the wedding! When is the honeymoon?”

“Ahhh, look now they're blushing!!”

“What?! Blushing is not the Johannsen way!”

“Yeah we'll have to test out his battle skills. If he's gonna be one of us he's got to fit the part. And that means being manly and tough!”

“Well he is gonna be a Butterfly, too. Which means he also needs to be refined and graceful.”

“Well being prissy and stuck-up is all well and good, but can he wrestle an eight-armed alligator with nothing but his bare hands?”

“Why would he want to?”

Moon looked around at the royals, her family, all getting along and talking to one another for the first time since the two families had been merged. Though there was still an argument fast breaking, unlike all other this one was not filled with venom or hate, just an understandable difference of opinions. She was shell-shocked to say the least, unable to believe that her family was even capable of getting along, or at the very least disagree without starting a war. It wasn't perfect, but it was a start, one Moon was grateful for.

She turned to the one she owed this gratitude to, her daughter, looking awkward in her friend's arms, her eyes on the ground, her face bright red and Moon couldn't help but smile at her. Star really was the perfect balance of both sides of the family and at even such a young age Star had already managed to do what even she couldn't, bring together two completely different groups of people and help them to grow into one family, even if it wasn't on purpose. Moon could really see that beneath all that energy and youth there was a true queen waiting to awaken, one that, when the time came, would no doubt outshine all the others, including herself. And so as Moon was surrounded by the playful chatter of her families, a pleasant, happy atmosphere replacing the hate-filled one from before, she was pleasantly surprised to find she couldn't think of a time when she had ever been more proud of her daughter. And though she was still in a whole lot of trouble, Moon thought that, for now, she wouldn't ruin her happy moment, after all, it could always wait until later.

As the royals continued their argument/agreement, Star helped her bestie to his feet, his legs still wobbly and unstable. She held onto him tight to keep him from falling and he happily held onto her right back.

“You okay?” Star asked and Marco nodded. The two smiled at each other, a smile of pure bliss that could never be broken.

“I am now,” Marco replied softly, his cheeks still bright pink from the focused gaze of the watching crowd, and Star couldn't think of anything more adorable than a blushing Marco.

“AH HA!” Heartrude yelled breaking the sweet moment, drawing everyone's attention away from Star and Marco and onto him. He smiled, grateful for the attention he so desperately craved, before sticking his flag at the top of the hill, glaring down at the others in satisfaction. “I have claimed thy hill! I am thine winner! How do thou like that, dear niece! And now you shall all-”

Heartrude was cut off as Star, unhappy at having to look away from her Marco, aimed her wand at her annoying uncle shooting him with magic. He fell over as the rainbow made contact with him and he fell directly onto the waiting beartrap he had just been freed from moments before.

His screams were vastly ignored even as the announcer revealed him as the winner, the two monarchies rolling their eyes at their failing family member, the idea of anyone being so obsessed with winning flags just being dumb. Star turned back to her Marco, her smile the biggest he had ever seen, taking his hand into her own once again, no longer caring who was watching. For a moment the two just looked into each others eyes, brown and blue shining in equal mixture, both knowing that somehow, someway they had finally found they're other half. And as they slowly drew into another hug, the warmth and love they shared filling both of them with a contentment neither had ever known, they found that they couldn't imagine a life without the other and they both silently vowed to never part again. “Come on, Marco,” Star said, finally pulling away from Marco, giving him a quick peck on the cheek, before squeezing his hands tight. “Let's go back down the hill.”

[anklelocker-blog1]

Extremely rough draft -had an idea and ran with it-

I can vaguely remember my early childhood. All the fuzzy stuff like high chairs and our ceiling color and the long nights are there, a big mush of stuff that everyone remembers. The only absolute moment I can remember, my earliest memory, was learning numbers. I remember them so clearly, probably because on that same day, my mother was beaten and shot as I sat in the other room. I can remember the gunshot, because it was the loudest thing I'd ever heard. I can remember my father screaming and yelling as he left my crib side. I remember the blue of my blankets, and the softness of my pillows. I was wailing as the second and third gunshot were fired, this time from my father's hands, as i would later find out and comprehend that he had broken the intruders arm and shot him in the chest two, three, four times as my mother lay on the floor, bleeding out. I can remember slam of the car door and the soft, gray room where my father and I apparently sat for fourteen hours during my mothers operation. My father tells me that I sat, awake and silent, for those hours, waiting with him for the results that came with joyful tears and breathless laughter as it was declared that although my mother's arm and shoulder were now nerve dead, she would live. Live. We had all lived. Even as that man had kicked in the flimsy apartment door and torn up our home and life. Even as the bullet entered my mother's body and went out the other side. Even as the man whirled around to late to stop the brutal efficiency with which my father, a trained marine, had snapped his arm and taken the gun that had dropped from his now limp arm. I cannot remember arriving back to our home, to the crime scene, in the early hours of the morning. I can't remember my father shushing me and changing my diaper as he repeated over and over "It's okay, it's okay bud. We're just picking up mommy's stuff." I can't even remember the police and red lights and static and yellow tape around my room. The one thing, the only thing and the only reason I still lay awake at night is for that single moment when my father lifted my basket and gave me a perfect view of the kitchen. The man's head was facing the stove, which I only saw because the black plastic bag had not been fully zipped up. This moment, right here, was when I first saw it. When I first understood numbers. About two inches above the man's head floated a very faint gray number 6. It was the same figure I had been seeing in my books, hearing about from my mother as she held up fingers and placed blocks into my hands. Little old me had no idea why this shape that Elmo had told me about was there in our kitchen, by the weird man. It wouldn't be until months later, as I walked around our new little carpeted living room that I would even think about that number again. On one warm and sweaty day, I fell down and cut open my knee on the edge of the fireplace. My father had scooped my crying form up from the ground and sat me down on the edge of the kitchen sink. Through my tears, I saw a number 7 floating above his stooped head as he bent to wash off my oozing leg. I remember pausing my cries for a moment as I swiped my snotty arm under my nose again. Why did my daddy have that number above his head too? "Daddy?" I said "Yeah?" He said as he finished dabbing the now tiny cut with a washcloth. I sniffled again before saying "Why do you have that?" as I pointed above his head at the little blue Seven not an inch from my finger. "Can I touch it?" Daddy glanced up from my knee for a moment. "What do you mean? I don't have anything, Andrew." He felt the top of his head, patting his hair. "Did you put something up there?" "No, silly! I'm saying the seven." My five year old Vocabulary restrained me. "That thingy! It's glowing!" Now my fathers eyebrows knitted in confusion as he turned to the microwave to look at his reflection. The number was obviously right there. Why didn't he see it? "Bud, there's not anything there, really." He turned back and started pushing hair out of my face and feeling my skull. "Did you hit your head? Just now?" Now a hint of worry pushed through his voice. He was being silly. I pulled back from his hands and sat up straighter as I shrugged my shoulders in stubborn anger. "No I didn't! You're just messing with me daddy. I don't like it." He stared at me for a moment before his face turned sympathetic and he reached out to feel my head again, saying "Bud..." "No! I'm real! Right there. Right there!" I said, pointing right at the number. I got so close my finger went through it, but I felt nothing. As I drew my hand away, the number simply reappeared within half a second. I didn't understand. "Jillian! Can you come here for a sec?" My father called. His voice was low and soft, even when he raised it. My mother appeared from the bathroom after a few moments. She walked a little slower as she clutched the bump in her stomach. I remember her bright pink bath robe that she always wore around the house. She pulled it around her now, coming over to me, already examining the situation with her eyes. "Ooh baby. What happened to you, huh?" My father showed her the dried and minuscule cut on my knee, no bigger then the small bandaid he still held in his hand, forgotten. "He says he sees a number..a number seven, right?" He looked over to me as I nodded "And, uh, he says it's glowing and blue." My mother now looked at my face, her's squished up in confusion. "I think he may of hit his head or something cause I don't see glowing number around here. My mother was already bobbing her head in agreement as she reached towards my hair. I shoved away from her hand. I was not happy that they did not believe me. It was so clear! Now that I looked for it, I could a little violet 3 above my moms head. I set my mouth in a frown as I said loudly "You guys don't believe me! It's real! I saw one a long time ago! When mommy got hit!" Both my parents looked at each other very quickly and turned back to me. "What did you say? What do you mean when mommy got hit?" I huffed. "Like, a long time ago! At the other place! I remember the man who hurt mommy was in black and he had a seven above his head! I saw it! I did!" "Okay, alright," my mother said quickly as she reached out and stroked my arm. " I believe you sweety. I do. We just--" My mother shook her head as my father huffed out a little laugh,"we just didn't think you even knew about that, being a baby and all. That was years ago sweety. I believe you though." She leaned towards a little more. "What exactly do you, um, remember from that..that day?" I crossed my arms and looked up to think. "Well, there was a really loud thing-noise. And then you were hurt, and daddy saved you. And then there was gray for a long time. And then you were good!" I thought for a moment and scooched up onto the counter some more. "But then. But then me and daddy came to the other place, with my old stuff. And I saw the bad man. He was laying down, and his eyes were open. But he wasn't movin. He just looked up. And I saw a number six. Gray. Just like daddy's, and yours." "That is..." my mother stopped speaking, and reads out for me with both arms. "Here sweety let's get down and go talk on the couch." "Yeah come on bud I wanna hear more about this. Come on." He said as he led me from the cold kitchen floor to the comfy brown couch we all shared on movie night. I didn't understand why this was new to them. They had been there. They must have seen the guy. Over the next twenty minutes, I recounted my memories, still crystal clear, to my parents as they stared incredulously at me. I told them that that was the first time I had seen the numbers, and that they had numbers too. As time wore on they started asking questions and became a little calmer as they were answered. Daddy got up after a minute and got the coats and the metal thingys. He helped my mother up as she let out a little puff and held her stomach some more. "Lets go talk to a special woman, okay bud? I think she'll be able to tell us about the numbers. And you." I agreed, although I was still a little confused. A few hours later, I met with this nice lady who I learned to call "Doctor Harry" over the next few weeks of lots of talking and writing and answering questions. She gave me candy. My parents were very curious about what I saw. Now that I was looking out for them, I saw numbers over almost everyone's heads. The tall people, though, they were too tall. Doctor Harry had a 4 above her head. I told her that. I told her about the bad man and mommy getting hurt and everything else I could remember. She didn't seem to ever get tired of listening to me. Over the years, we never found out why I had this ability, or curse, or whatever you wanna call it. It was just..there. Nothing else about me was different, in a good way. I played sports and ran around and learned just as fast as everyone else. It wasn't until my eleventh birthday that it all clicked into place. I absolutely loved our president, for no reason at all. He was just a cool guy to me. I didn't know politics or any fancy words for opinion or fighting, but for some reason, that guy was awesome to me. So, I had asked my parents one day if I could meet him, to which I got a chuckle and a "Maybe, bud." to. My little sister had clapped her chubby baby fingers together in agreement, although she didn't understand anything besides "mee-mee" for mom. Lo and behold, five months later, we had a ticket to go to this fancy place far away and see the president. I was so excited. I would get to shake hands with him! As my birthday approached, my excitement grew and grew until I could almost explode. As I watched him step out of his car, I glanced at the two big scary people beside him. One woman and one man, dressed in dark blue, with guns strapped across their backs. They had floating little 7's above their heads. As the president buttoned up his jacket, I saw the little faint 8 above his head. And I understood.