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jadedxrealityw · 4 years

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-Amortentia- Blaise Zabini x Female Reader

☼-☪-☼

Kody: BLAISEEEEEEE DADDY- im sorry. yeah yeah i’m changing the canonical storyline- cry about it. I’m also fully aware Amortentia does not work like this lmao.

Request: you can make the summary short and less revealing for more fun hehe. Also it's totally up to you, dear! Only if you feel comfortable with it and no pressure! I hope you had a great weekend and drink more water ily <3 - 💐

House: Hufflepuff

Possible Triggers / Warnings: Slight slut shaming in the beginning, Draco being a little shit,

☼-☪-☼

you had been alone most of your life with your parents being on constant business trips from the ministry that would last for months on end. You were practically raised by your nanny, but she couldn’t teach you everything. You became socially awkward.

you never had any friends back at home which meant you had no experience communicating with people your age. You were walking awkwardness basically. It came at no surprise when you were sorted into Hufflepuff, even though both your parents were Slytherins- they weren’t disappointed in you though.

you had just managed to scramble by through your first four years of school. Four long years without any friends, but you didn’t mind. You could get by just by yourself. You were a strong independent woman and knew how to get yourself out of sticky situations.

unless it was stuck up Hufflepuff’s- then you were screwed

one fine day in your fourth year you were heading to the quidditch field so you could go watch the game. Slytherin against Hufflepuff. They were both tied at two wins against each other so you were eager to see who would win. You wore a brown buttoned sweater with a nice pear of tan overalls.

the fallen leaves under your foot made a satisfying crack noise as you walked along the field. The cheers and other various sounds of students were definitely drawing nearer. You popped another flavour bean into your mouth when a harsh push came to your shoulder, causing the box of flavour beans to fall.

you watched as they spilled out onto the grass with a look of solemn in your eyes “Dang- that was my last box” you mumble before a couple of snickers were heard in front of you. You look up to see three students wearing their regular Hufflepuff robes with there own casual clothes underneath.

“Drop something?” one asked. A girl with light brown bobbed hair and green eyes spoke. You nod once “Uh yeah, just my flavour beans. I- uh i can just buy new ones” you spoke, already starting to clam up “Your a hufflepuff aren’t you? Why aren’t you wearing yellow?” the girl asked somewhat accusingly.

alert alert. Confrontation detected. Activate escape protocol 17B

you didn’t answer and went to walk past them when another one of the three, a blond boy with blue eyes pushed you back to where you were standing. Shit. You fold your arms over your chest, looking at the ground “Your one of those Slytherin groupies are you, a house traitor?” the brown haired girl accused.

you opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. This made the two Hufflepuffs more annoyed “What? Cant speak? Let me guess, your like those Draco fangirls. Sweetie. Your def not pretty enough for him” she adds, making the boy aside her laugh.

did she just say def? Have you ever even talked to Draco Malfoy? Not the time to be thinking about that. “I uh-” before you could speak anymore the girl held up her hand “Don’t even try to defend yourself, Slut” you went wide eyed. No one has ever been so nasty to you.

“I’ve never seen two Hufflepuffs go at one of their own, before” a girls laugh came from behind you. She had black shoulder length hair and bangs with brown eyes. Pansy Parkinson. In front of her was two boys dressed in Slytherin Quidditch uniforms.

You quickly identify the platinum blond boy with pale skin as Draco Malfoy. The hair was always a dead give away and the other boy was slightly taller then him with dark skin. He was very handsome for a boy your age. What was his name again? Oh! Blaise- Blaise Zabini.

“For Hufflepuff’s you two are quite nasty” Draco spoke, a grin playing on his lips. The boy Hufflepuff rolled his eyes “Yeah whatever Malfoy, what’re you going to do. Tell your father?” that struck a nerve in the young Malfoy as he went to lunge at them until Blaise put a arm out, blocking Draco.

“Now, Now. Let’s not get physical. You see, me and my fellow housemates overheard your very deplorable conversation with this what seems like sweet girl. Honestly, how can you bully someone who can’t even get a word in?” Blaise spoke in such a proper way that you almost couldn’t tell he was insulting them.

the girl and boy were silent as he spoke for a while until the girl spoke up once more “Oh so she’s one of your play things, Zabini?” she questions with a smug look. Blaise’s neutral expression switched into a disgusted one “I don’t have play things. I actually have respect for other woman”

Blaise didn’t let them get another word in before he stepped in front of you “Are you alright? They didn’t hurt you did they?” he asked, using his hand to lift your chin and inspect your face. Touching- “No” you say in a meek voice. He nods once with a small smile “Good, now let’s go”

you tilt your head sto side. Go? “Um- go where?” you ask. Blaise gestures towards the quidditch field “The game of course. Me and Malfoy here have to get ready and you and Pansy will meet Theo in the Slytherin bleachers to watch the game of course.” as he spoke, Pansy skipped to your side, linking arms.

“Yeah! We can watch them make fools of themselves. Now lets go new friend!” Pansy said excitedly before practically dragged you towards the bleachers, leaving Draco and Blaise alone. The young Malfoy turned towards Blaise with a puzzled look “Since when did you involve yourself with Hufflepuffs?”

Blaise rolled his eyes before walking off, not answering his housemate

☼-☪-☼

7th year

after that day you became part of Blaise’s friend group. He’d talk to you as much as he talked to Theo, Pans, or Draco. Ask you how your day was, invite you to sit with him at lunch and even sneak you into the Slytherin house at times.

some people found it strange. A slytherin spending so much time with a Hufflepuff, but as stated Blaise didn’t care much of opinions hat didn’t come from his friends, but all his friends adored you. Case closed. It was around the end of sixth year is when your feelings changed from platonic to romantic.

you no longer saw him as your best friend that saved you from a bunch of nasty Hufflepuff’s all those years ago. You now saw him as someone you wanted to be with, all the time. To hold his hand, have him hold you, for him to just call you his. You fell hard.

but there was this fear, this fear that it would ruin everything you had with him. It was too great a risk, so like any normal person. You kept quiet as mouse and refused to let anyone know your feelings. Except for Pansy of course, but she found out on her own. Then told Draco, who told Theo.

everyone knew except Blaise actually

it was lunch and the Slytherins were waiting for you to arrive, Draco cleared his throat, getting the attention of the rest of them “I have a terribly good idea” he says, making Blaise look at him curiously “And that is?” he asked, leaning in to here what his housemate had to say.

Draco reaches into robe and pulls out a pink heart shaped bottle. “What in the hell? Why do you have a love potion?” Pansy asked with a amused chuckle. “Well- Y/n confessed to me that she had a crush on someone, but was too afraid to tell them. So i’m going to slip this into her drink to move her along”

Pansy and Theo both look at each other knowingly. They know full well that little ferret was lying. Y/n told Pansy first. What was he playing at? “That is so wrong on so many levels, Malfoy” Blaise spoke up first, looking at him in distaste.

“Hey! She told me that she wished she was more confident so she could tell this person there feelings. I’m being a good friend!” Draco retorted, another lie. Blaise face drops a little “Who even is this person she’s confessing to. It better not be some low life Gryffindor” Blaise grumbles.

Pansy’s eyebrow wiggles “Is that jealousy i here, Zabini?” she teases. Blaise rolls his eyes before looking back at his plate “Y/n can like whoever she want’s” he grumbles. “Really? ‘Cause your stabbing your steak” Pansy asked, leaning over across the table.

Blaise was indeed repeating jabbing at his food with his fork “I will use the slug-vomiting charm on you” he spoke, gritting his teeth. Pansy just smiled innocently “Cursing Pan’s i see” a voice came from behind him. Blaise turned his head around to see you, holding a textbook “Sorry i was late, got caught up”

you take a seat next to Blaise, seeing a full plate and water put out for you “Thanks for saving me some food?” you say with a small smile. “I did actually, because i’m your favorite” Draco gives you a sweet smile, one that you laugh nervously at “Uh- sure?” you reply.

☼-☪-☼

once finished your food, you reached for the cup of water and took a sip. As you go and place it down you notice that they were all staring at you? “What?” you ask and Theo gives you a smile “Feel any different?” he asked. You purse your lips together and slowly shake your head “No, i feel alright”

Draco huffs and places his head in his hand. You look over at Blaise who had went back to eating his food. You notice something on the corner of his mouth and grab the napkin on your table. Reaching up you wipe away the food on the corner of his mouth.

Blaise flinches and grabs your hand “What’re you doing?” he asked, gazing down at you. You snicker a bit at his reaction and gently tug your arm out of his grip “You had something on your mouth, didn’t want it to mess up your handsome face” you reply.

Pansy chokes on her water, which turns into a coughing fit. Blaise stared at you blankly, just blinking mindlessly while Draco punched the air.

☼-☪-☼

now, mind you. A typical love potion last up to 24 hours, but Draco being the idiot he was accidently poured half the bottle into your drink. So it was safe to say it was going to last more than a day. “Your a bloody fool, Malfoy!” Blaise exclaims.

“I didn’t mean to pour half of it! Someone bumped into me!” Draco retorts while both Theo and Pansy eat a box of flavour beans they were sharing, just casually watching the chaos unfold. “That my be true, but you still served it to her! You took advantage of her vulnerability!” Blaise shouts back.

Draco’s face fell, yeah could be a little prick sometimes, but he also cared about you deeply. He couldn’t tell Blaise he was your crush, but he could try to make it right. “I’ll make the antidote, but it will be a couple days” Blaise nods “Sorry for shouting” he says. Draco nods once before leaving the hallway.

“Hey guys” jeez- you just snuck up on people. Blaise steps towards you “Shouldn’t you be heading to charms class?” he asked, crossing his arms “What? Do you have her schedule memorized?” Pansy questions with a small laugh.

Blaise exhales deeply “I have a copy of it actually. Anyway-” he says and turns his attention back to you. “What do you need?” he asks, his tone changing to a more calm one. “Can you walk me to class?” you ask. Blaise raises a brow “Why?” he asked, not that he would have a problem.

“I want to spend more time with you” you spoke very nonchalantly. You almost wondered how you even spoke those words yourself. Blaise looks stunned for a moment, before a smile made a way to his face. This was just the potion talking, you were spewing nonsense he thought “As do i? Let’s get going shall we”

you smile brightly and grab his a=hand, interlocking your fingers. Blaise gives you a small nod before covering his mouth with his hands. Both Pansy and Theo watch them walk away “5 galleons Blaise confesses to Y/n by the end of this whole ordeal” Pansy points, chewing on a flavour bean.

Theo watched along her and nods “Your on, 10 galleons they both end up being friends again”

☼-☪-☼

it has been TWO days and Draco still hasn’t made the antidote. He claimed it was because he had to gather all the supplies without Snape around, which was probably true. Blaise had started to kind of- sort of- maybe- like the attention you were giving him.

oh yeah- surprise! Blaise had had a crush on you even longer then you did, he just knew how to keep his composure around you. It was easy for him, but it didn’t make him any less terrified of what would happen if those feelings were revealed.

currently, you were both sitting in the courtyard, studying on a bench, your choice. “I think that’s enough for the day. I’m surprised you asked me for my help. You usually never ask me for any academic advice” Blaise spoke, knowing full well why she asked him. The love potion.

you look up at him, closing the textbook in your hands “Well, you and Draco are the smartest people i know, but i prefer your company more” you smile lightly as you begin to cram the textbook into your bag. Blaise feels his heartbeat pick up once again.

It’s just the love potion. It’s just the love potion. It’s just the love potion. Think rationally Zabini! “I’m glad to hear that” he nods once. You both stand up from the bench and the curiosity gets the better of him. “So, what people have you’ve been talking too the past couple days?”

he wanted to know if you had actually been talking to your crush. So he could murder them talk to them man to man/woman. You shrug your shoulders “Just you guys, who else would i be talking to?” you spoke “Oh! i have an exam to take in potions! i’ll see you at dinner!”

you spoke with haste before leaning up to kiss his cheek “Bye Blaise!” and with that you ran off towards the entrance. Blaise held up his hand for a moment before exhaling “She’s- been only- talking to us? Who the hell is her crush then?” he thought aloud before picking up his things and walking away.

both Pansy and Theo pop up from behind the bushes “For a genius student, he sure is a idiot” Pansy spoke, eating the last bit of her cauldron cake. Theo nods “I thought Draco would be done with the antidote already?” he says. Pansy grinned evilly.

“Yeah...he should, but i keep hiding the ingredients. Blaise needs more time to realize she’s into him” she spoke, wiping her mouth off. Theo gasps and wacks her shoulder “That’s cheating! and you ate my last cauldron cake!” he sighs, crossing his arms.

“Yeah? Cry about it Nott”

☼-☪-☼

“It’s done!” a loud shout came from the dorm hallways of the Slytherin house towards the common room. Draco came running towards them, panting like a dog. “What’s done?” Pansy asked, sitting next to Theo eating a bowl of popcorn. No- they don’t know where she got it either.

“The antidote for Y/n’s love potion. It took so long because i kept misplacing everything. All we need to do is sneak it into her drink at dinner tonight” he explains. Blaise shot up from the loveseat he was sat on reading a book and snatched the vile from Draco. “Hey! What the hell?!”

“I’m not lying to Y/n anymore then i have to. I’ll catch up with you guys later” Blaise said before walking out the portrait door. “Alright that’s our cue!” Pansy and Theo stood up “What’re you guys doing?” Draco asked with a confused expression on his face.

“Spying on Blaise and Y/n to make sure they confess to each other” Theo explains, walking away with Pansy. Draco blinked a couple times before shaking his head “Guys that is such an invasion of there privacy and trust, they are our friends and we should be respectful......i’m coming with you”

bestie things i guess

☼-☪-☼

Blaise had just made it out the dungeons when he bumped into someone “Watch where your- oh Y/n. Why are you down here?” he asked. You chuckle and push away from him “I was going to see if Pansy wanted to have another sleepover, why are you out here? Dinner hasn’t started yet”

Blaise thinks of his next words before holding up the vile “I need you to drink this Y/n”

“What why?”

“Just do it”

“But-”

“If you trust me you will. I would never harm you”

“...Okay”

you grab the vile from his hand and pop the cork off. You look at the vile then Blaise who nods once. Exhaling, you pour the strange liquid down your throat, twinging at the unfamiliar taste. You feel almost a swirl around your chest before you look at Blaise again “What was that?”

Blaise places his hands on your shoulders, your face heating up slightly. Once again you were back being unnerved by this guy, but you didn’t notice “How do you feel about me Y/n?” he asked, making your E/c eyes widen a bit. “I’m sorry- come again?”

he sighs deeply and looks you in the eye. Ooo eye contact, scary. “the same i did yesterday?” you say vaguely. because who the hell asks that kind of question. Blaise lets go of your shoulders and rubs his face with his his hands. He was frustrated. “Y/n, how do you feel about me?”

you shrink at his gaze. The first thought that ran through your mind was that Pansy had snitched to him that you were in love with him “I’m so sorry- i didn’t want to tell you because i thought you would think i was weird!” you spurt out, confusing Blaise just a tad more.

“What are you talking about!?”

“Pansy told you about my crush on you didn’t she!?”

“Your what!?”

oh if the world could swallow you whole now “Oh merlin- i thought that’s what she told you!” you shout before trying to activate escape protocol 17B again and walk away. Blaise almost thought about letting you leave but you liked him! he was terrified you didn’t! but you do! So, why would he let you leave!?

he reaches back and grabs your arm, stopping you from walking any further “I get it. You don’t want to be friends anymore” you spoke sadly. Blaise stepped towards you, but you looked down at your feet instead of him “Your right, i don’t want to be friends anymore Y/n”

you felt your heart shatter. That was until one of his long arms wrapped around your waist and other pointed your chin up to look at him “I want you to be mine and i, yours” he spoke, a slight grin on his lips. Say what now? did Blaise Zabini just confess to you?

“Oh...”

“Is that all you have to say to that? I just spilled my heart out to you”

“What- what should i say?”

“Yes?...No?”

“Oh! yes- yes. Definitely yes! ”

“That’s a relief. I thought i had just made a full of myself”

“You are no fool Blaise Zabini”

Blaise gave you a small smile before leaning down. Oh shit. He stops midway, lips centimeters from yours “It is okay if i kiss you, correct?” he asks. We love a consent king. You nod slowly, making his smile grow wide before he presses his lips to yours.

“5 galleons you little shit, hand it over!” you both pull apart as three idiots come falling out a nearby broom closet. Pansy spilled her popcorn all over the hallway floor in the process. “Screw you Pansy, you cheated you pig!” Theo snaps back, Pansy hitting the back of his head “I am no pig!”

Draco was just lying face first on the floor, hoping no one would notice his presence. “Oh right pug-face!” Theo smirks. Pansy gasps before pulling out her wand “You are dead you queer!” she shouts. Theo pulled out his wand as well “You have a girlfriend, homo!” he shouts.

Pansy sputters for a moment “That’s besides the point!” they both circle each other as Draco picks himself off the floor “I shouldn’t have come” he mumbles, dusting off his robes. Both you and Blaise look at each other before bursting into laughter.

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Taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @sonbelleame @dracosathenaeum @pxroxide-prinxcesss

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Kody- I have no words for this other then- what the fuck did i just write? Anyways, peace!

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peachy-inserts · 4 years

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𝕙𝕢 𝕓𝕠𝕪𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕗𝕒𝕝𝕝

✉︎ request: n/a

✰warnings: none. fluff!

✎a/n: please i made myself cry over asahi during this i love him so much

➳ᴅᴀɪᴄʜɪ, ᴀꜱᴀʜɪ, ɪᴡᴀɪᴢᴜᴍɪ, ᴏɪᴋᴀᴡᴀ, ᴛᴀɴᴀᴋᴀ, ᴛꜱᴜᴋɪꜱʜɪᴍᴀ, ꜱᴜɢᴀᴡᴀʀᴀ, ʙᴏᴋᴜᴛᴏ, ᴋᴜʀᴏᴏ, ɴɪꜱʜɪɴᴏʏᴀ, ᴜꜱʜɪᴊɪᴍᴀ

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✰Daichi loves to bake with you. He hopes on the pumpkin spice wagon just because it means there’s an excuse for the two of you to make something together in the kitchen, but there are times when he just wants you to feed him. He’s an absolute glutton this time of year, both for sweets and for you. Also, coffee dates! Loves taking strolls with you in the crisp fall weather and warming up with a hot drink, though one time he spilled his latte all over his lap because he was so focused on the way your nose scrunched in delight and fingers tapped against your styrofoam cup at the sweetness of the beverage that he completely missed his mouth. Of course, this only ended with you spitting your drink out all over his front and the table

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✰Asahi always makes sure you’re warm. The sudden and drastic change in weather makes his bones ache, maybe it’s because of his old soul, or maybe (as you tease him) his body just can’t keep up with its own size. When you leave the house together, he takes his time to wrap the scarf his mother knit for you around your neck with care, tucking it gently into the folds of your jacket so the scratchy yarn doesn’t irritate your skin, already dry and chapped from the cold. He’s a human radiator, though, and often goes out with as little as a sweatshirt with nothing underneath, to which you call him a hypocrite for. You know, though, that you’ll end up clinging to him against the wind while he laughs and comments on how he isn’t at all cold while you shiver under his hold

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✰Iwaizumi takes you to pick out pumpkins. He drapes his heavy tan coat over your shoulders as you stand idly with your arms crossed and tucked under each other for warmth, him taking far too long and being far too picky in his selection process. He looks like a dad with the way he insects every pumpkin, knocking on it a few times before shaking his head and moving on. You can’t help but admire the way his biceps flex as he struggles to carry the numerous pumpkins you had chosen, despite your efforts to help him. You only carve a few of them, though, and the rest are placed around them. When they rot, you break them apart to discard and jokingly mention that he should chuck the pieces at Oikawa, but he takes you a little too seriously

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✰Tanaka takes you to a corn maze. On the way there, you take a tractor ride and he lays his coat down before you sit so that the hay doesn’t poke through your jeans, although he looks panicked in doing so, and practically rips his entire outfit off in his eagerness to be a gentleman for you. The ride is faster than anticipated, though, and now missing his outermost layer, he clings to you for warmth. You get lost in the maze and end up being yelled at by an old woman for cutting through the crops, so he hoists you onto his shoulders to scout for an exit. The two of you end up speedrunning the whole maze, and you laugh hysterically while teetering back and forth and clutching the top of his head for support, stealing his beanie for yourself.

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✰Oikawa takes you on a shopping spree. You both indulge in the latest fall fashions, and although he intended to choose a few pieces for himself can’t help but search frantically for items that you’d enjoy, and that he’d certainly enjoy to see on you. He doesn’t let you leave the shopping mall without a new waist coat, one that matches his but doesn’t clash with your shoes and compliments your eyes, two pairs of boots, and a comfortable hat that you look absolutely adorable in, the cinch of it’s fabric material drawing your hair down flat beside your cheeks and accenting your nose, which he can’t go a day without peppering soft kisses onto; usually in the morning when the sun has just hit your face. He loves to see you glow like rudolph, and it’s one of his favorite features

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✰Tsukishima invites you to his family’s thanksgiving. It’s a big deal for him, who usually separates his interpersonal relationships from his home life, and although he’s flustered, does the best he can to make you feel welcomed in his house. Despite his typical cold attitude, something that you are not spared from, it’s better to be kind to you than be publicly lectured by his mother for not being courteous to you, especially when most of his family is meeting you for the first time. Not that he doesn’t mind being kind to you in the first place, but he’ll save the teasing for another day; right now, this is a test for him. When he walks you home after you’ve stuffed yourself full, he’s extremely relieved, and thanks you for coming along. You know this is a big step for him, and that it can only mean you hold a special place in his heart

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✰Sugawara learns to crochet, just for you. He stays up late watching youtube videos, and although the awkward positions he twists his hands into just to finally get a yarn over on the hook make his joints ache and cramp, he works vigilantly at making you a matching set consisting of a scarf, headband, and pair of mittens. The stitching is loose and uneven, and you can’t really tell if he actually used a pattern or not, but it’s so heartwarming and thoughtful that you simply can’t get by without wearing it at least once. The same night he presents you with this set, you go out to a haunted maze, and you’re wearing each piece proudly. He spends the whole time creeping behind you trying to get you to scream, though, with a phone in hand, and you’re reminded of his pesky duality and the tendency to wreak havoc and stroll away carelessly

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✰Bokuto takes you on a ghost trail. He takes you here with the intention of being your knight in shining armor, but you swear he’s going to break your hand with how hard he squeeze it every time there’s a particularly loud gust of wind, the kind that whispers behind your ears and rustles the trees. He’s caught off guard by its low hissing, and when a crisp red leaf falls on top of his head he yelps, hoisting you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and breaking into a run before you lower yourself and stop him in his tracks. You decide to leave, after that, and stop by the vendor at the entrance for candied apples. Hey, at least he took you with him instead of using you as a shield, right?

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✰Ushijima arranges a ride through the countryside. You clamber into the back of an old, rusted pickup truck with him, and he lets you use his hand as leverage to hop into the bed, which has been covered in hay. You pass by fields of corn, and excitedly point out every horse you see to him, and although his only response is a low hum, you can see the way he smiles softly, genuinely, at you out of the corner of your eye. You lean over the wheels a few times to get a better look at the scene, and he instinctively reaches out to steady your legs so you don’t fall over

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✰Nishinoya goes trick or treating with you. He’s planned out several routes in case someone calls him out for being so old and asking for candy, so you always have another place to go and start over. When he’s rejected too many times, he has the ingenious idea to drag Hinata along with you two and tell people that he’s your son. It doesn’t work out exactly that way, though, and you find yourself being asked if you’re really just babysitting the two. Hey, at least he got what he came for though, right?

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✰Kuroo goes apple picking with you. When you mention how they would make a good pie, he somehow ends up rambling on about the chemical properties in the pie crust you find on pinterest, and how it’s more likely to burn, how you shouldn’t add that much brown sugar, and on and on and on until you finally find something to distract him. He pulls the branches down for you, but only after you’ve hopped up towards it a few times. He pulls a twig off and uses it to smack your head, teasing you for being so short compared to him

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huihuiheart · 4 years

Text

Spiked - Minho

Part of @clandestine-lixie ‘s Smutmas Collab and a great excuse to get some more Minho on my page!

Summary: It’s pretty much tradition at this point that Changbin spikes the eggnog at the annual Christmas party. What happens though when secrets slip through drunk lips and aren’t forgotten the next morning? At least not forgotten by the very person you confessed to.

Pairing: Minho x F! Reader

Warnings: Drinking (not drunk when having sex), drunken confessions?, cursing, some angst in the beginning, smut, lovemaking, unprotected sex (stay safe kids), oral (f! receiving), lots of petnames, moments where Minho is kinda smug, lots of praise, it’s sugary sweet, mild sir kink for a moment, fingering, some playful teasing.

I sincerely apologize but I haven’t had time to edit this yet, so...please excuse any errors and stuff I’ll be getting to those when I have some time. I wrote over half of this today with a migraine so we’re working on fumes here. Also if something seems off I apologize, I’ve never celebrated the holidays before so I honestly don’t know what Christmas is like....sorry.

Word Count: 4,992

“Awe don’t tell me you’re already finished taking bets? I haven’t even got mine in on how long before Changbin tries to get us all drunk.” You tease the rambunctious group in the living room as you remove your shoes by the door. Christopher joining you a moment later to help you with your coat, hanging it up for you as he often did.

“Hey, don’t look so glum. Felix was just getting to the interesting wagers now anyways. Bets of any kind are in Minho’s care this evening. Gifts for tomorrow morning under the tree as always.” Chris caught you up with where the ever excitable boys had already impatiently gotten up to, before stepping away with your coat so you could join the others.

“So what did I just miss then? You know the topic that had you all in a giggle fit?” You raise a brow as you claim a spot in their circle, between Minho and Hyunjin.

“Oh we were just discussing the last bet. Not that you’d be able to participate anyways seeing how it was about you.” Jisung smirks wickedly until you match his gaze with your own that was just as devious, making him fold in an instant, or so you think, “Just betting on whether we thought you’d stay the night or not this year.”

“That’s not interesting though, I stay practically every year cause I’m too drunk to go home alone and none of you will take me.” You chuckle shaking you head, “ A better bet would be who will get drunk the fastest, my money’s on Hyunjin.”

Minho took your bet money counting it out before the other boys made their wagers too, writing them all down as more and more bets danced through your group. Both those typical for the Christmas party and those unique to this year for whatever reason. Debates starting up over a few of them as they always did.

“No I’m telling you Y/N will be the first one to admit it. She always gets loose lipped when she drinks.” Jisung teases despite the validity of his statement, something you’ve proven true to them at more than just the previous Christmas parties.

“Still who she likes is the secret she guards more than anything else, she’d have to be so shitfaced for that to come out it would be ridiculous!” Changbin counters, “ My money is on Felix, he was practically giving it away unprompted last year. It wouldn’t be too hard to get it out of him if we really tried.”

“Maybe that’s just cause Y/N doesn’t trust some of you to keep your mouths shut.” Christopher shrugs as he takes a seat, though all eyes are on him not because of the motion, but because of his words. Giving away that you had already confessed your crush to at least one person in the room.

“Wait. So you told him, but you didn’t tell me? What do we even gossip for? Let I’m lowkey offended right now.” Hyunjin whines used to being your partner in crime when it came to exchanging secrets about your group, even the things you’d never tell anyone else. Trusting the other to lock it down tighter than even their own secrets, even if you exploited that information at times. Like when Hyunjin conveniently ended up paired with his crush for every game of the spring break party.

“In my defense I was distraught and looking for you when it slipped. Chris was just the only one around, so he’s the one who got that information.” You counter knowing there wasn’t any taking it back at this point anyways, Hyunjin barely accepting your answer with a grumble. You were somewhat glad that it was the case though, he’d surely exploit the information tonight if he had it. In this case you should be safe, or so you thought before you noticed the subtle smirk on Christopher’s face before he glanced between you and the very crush you’d revealed to him....Minho.

“Hey, the boys sent me to see if you needed any help.” Minho steps into the kitchen watching as you moved to pull something out of the oven. Most of the food had already been prepped before you arrived so you offered to be the one to actually cook it. This being the fourth time in an hour and a half that Minho had been sent to check on you, each time he showed up besides you though he announced himself with those same words....the boys sent me. Them digging a little deeper into your heart whenever you’d hear them again. It implying that that he never actually chose to come to you of his own will, only coming to you since the boys told him to.

“I’m fine Minho. You can go back to the others.” Your words were sharper than you intended and it nearly made you wince, even if he didn’t return your feelings he was still your friend and you shouldn’t be so harsh to him. Sometimes your feelings managed to rear their ugly head before you could stop them though, something you’d feel regret for later

“Rose....your thorns are showing again.” Minho’s gentle voice says the familiar phrase as he moves to stand at your side. His nickname for you with a subtle announcement of the fact that your emotions were slipping out quicker than you often registered, something he always managed to stay calm through no matter how snappy you sometimes got, “I don’t know what riled you up, and I don’t have to. You should go take a minute to calm down though. I’ll watch the food.”

The way he spoke to you was enough to calm you down enough to regain your composure, but not wanting to be so close to him and unintentionally get worked up again you conceded. Slipping outside into the frigid air for a few moments to collect yourself before finding the others in the living room again, sitting besides Christopher now.

“The eggnog spiked yet?” You question with a soft sigh as you lean against his shoulder, causing him to chuckle and nod, “Good, cause I’m going to need a drink to make it through the night.”

“You drunk yet Y/N?” Changbin teases as he pours you another glass. Internally cursing him out, he knew damn well he put something stronger in the eggnog this year without any warning. Knowing that you and Felix at least would try to keep up with everyone else despite being two of the light weights of the group. The others in that category smart enough to stop before they could make a fool out of themselves, even accidentally.

“Not drunk enough to lose to Felix or spill any secrets yet, if that’s what you’re asking.” You call him out, brow quirking as if to challenge him to tease you again. The alcohol buzzing through your system making you more confident in challenging them, even if it slowed your wit slightly.

“Nah just wondering if you’re drunk enough to at least confess you’re spending the night? Well officially anyways. We thought of a way to determine who you’re going to stay with tonight.” Changbin brings his own glass to his lips, hiding his smirk knowing that Christopher had come to him and Hyunjin with a plan to rig it so that you’d end up with Minho.

“Fine, I’ll confess to that.” You chuckle not catching onto their schemes, “So how are we figuring it out then? What’s your big, genius plan?”

The sarcastic way you’re carrying yourself makes Hyunjin snicker, leaning towards Christopher, “Oh if only she knew...” He shakes his head slightly before shaping up, to hide any suspicious acts from you, “Simple, you’re just drawing the name out of a hat. You know the deal though, you only get to pick once and that’s who you’re stuck with.”

“Yeah, I know the deal.” You sit up further waiting for them to bring the hat over, the liquid courage running through you making you feel really good about your odds. It was only a 1 in 8 chance that you’d end up picking Minho, you were most likely safe from your crush. Well the possibility of embarrassing yourself while alone with him anyways. Or so you thought until you managed to pull his name out of the hat.

“Well.....I guess I’m rooming with Minho tonight....”

"Alright I think that's enough for one night." Minho takes the glass from you before you can get it refilled yet again. You'd lost count three drinks ago, hoping you'd get passed out drunk instead of having to face him. Luck wasn't on your side this evening though as Minho still had his wits about him and he refused to let you do something dangerous to your health.

"But Minho, if I'm not drinking what am I going to do?" Your whine is only added to by the small subconscious pout adorning your drunk face.

"We've both had enough and are going to bed now. It's 4 fucking 37 in the morning and you know someone's gonna be waking is up too goddamn early hangover or not. So if you wanna drink something it'll be water on the way to bed." Minho insists moving to help your inebriated form up from your seat on the floor and towards his upstairs bedroom.

"You can use the bathroom, I put some clothes in their for you so you can sleep comfortably." Minho sits on th edge of his bed, pulling out his phone to scroll through seeming almost entirely disinterested as you wobble off to the bathroom. Not getting far though before you have to pull the door open with a blush, your shirt wedged half on with only one arm successfully out.

"M-Minho I got stuck, c-can you help me?" Your words held no room for any hidden implications, especially not when panicked tears started to well in your eyes.

"Hey, it'll be okay. I'm gonna help you and you'll be just fine." Minho coos trying to reassure you, not knowing your panic was partly due to having to face him like this. His warm hands gently in the way they helped untangle you from the shirt you'd somehow managed to get trapped in.

"There you go, all better. Now go get those warm clothes on and get in bed before the cold settles in too much." He insists gently wiping away the last of your tears before you returned to the bathroom.

Silence filled the space when you returned, saying nothing as you switched places with Minho. Sliding into the bed while he was in the bathroom. It wasn't like you'd never slept there before, staying with the boys frequently meant that you'd slept in all their beds at some point but never since your feelings for Minho had developed so much had you stayed in his. Never after you'd felt like you'd embarrassed yourself beyond repair in one evening either. Not realizing you were sniffling with a fresh batch of tears until Minho returned.

"Hey what's wrong rose? You've been upset all day. Please talk to me, we don't like when you're upset." Minho's brow furrows as he uses the paw of his sweater to gently wipe away the tears again.

"I-It's just so hard Minho. I don't know if I keep doing this." You feel exhausted from the alcohol, the excitement throughout the evening, and now an emotional breakdown too and yet you needed to get this off your chest or even that might not be enough to let you get rest tonight.

"What is? What's hard? What can't you do?" Minho asks feeling his heart bleed at your distress even if he was able to stay as calm as he was.

"L-Loving you...."

You had passed out nearly the moment those words had left your lips, but Minho couldn’t, not after your confession. It had been the last thing he’d seen coming after trying not to look desperate to you all day. Yet you’d confessed to him of all people and it weighed too heavily on his mind for the next two hours to even consider getting any sleep. Only getting maybe two hours in before an excited Jeongin bound in to try and wake you both up so everyone could come downstairs for Christmas. Though Minho ensured he never got to you before he shoved him out with hushing sound. Slipping down behind him to grab some water, coffee, and pain meds for when you’d wake up. Telling the boys you’d had a rough night, probably drank too much, and should be left alone to sleep as long as you needed. Not expecting you to already be shifting awake when he returned to the room.

“Hey, you can sleep more if you want. It’s alright.” Minho gently brushes the hair out of your face as your eyes slowly blink open, leaning into the warmth of his touch without realizing, “I brought you meds and coffee if you’re felling hungover.”

You accept his help to sit up and take the meds, willing your fuzzy mind to clear enough to recall what happened the night before, “Minho...d-did I do anything last night? I-I can’t remember.”

Minho froze debating how he should answer that, he wanted to be honest with you, but after seeing how upset you were the night before he didn’t want to embarrass you at all, “W-Well, umm....”

“I-I said something didn’t I?” You could read his face for once, the calm demeanor gone and it telling you something had happened. The way his eyes widened at your question was enough to confirm what you thought as panic bubbled up and made your throat feel tight, “W-Whatever I said I didn’t-”

Minho cut you off by pressing his lips to yours quickly, feeling his own panic, “P-Please don’t say that you didn’t mean it. I think I would die if I lost the hope that you actually loved me back.”

The panic stopped almost instantly, feeling it dissipate as you processed his words, “L-Love you back?....Y-You mean you love me too? B-But you were acting like I was such a bother yesterday.”

Minho sits on the bed, pulling you into his arms before you could cry again, “I didn’t mean for it to come off that way. I-I just didn’t want to look desperate when I couldn’t think of a reason for you to love me too.”

“You’re an idiot, I was literally like so obvious.” You whine softly and he chuckles though his focus seems to shift as his gaze falls to your lips, “You can kiss me again you know....a-after all we both just confessed so it would make sense to...”

Minho’s eyes flick back up to yours as a smirk forms on his face, but he makes no smart comment as he gives in to what both of you are wanting. Leaning in to kiss you again, less panicked this time as his lips softly meld with yours. Though the both of you were pouring too much emotion into it for it to become anything less than desperate. Now that you had each other you needed that more than air itself, it remaining sweet despite the way you both chased after each other as if afraid this would all disappear if you separated for any real stretch of time. You feel the faintest trail as Minho’s hands move from holding you against his chest to cradling your head as he lays you back onto the bed.

“If you want to take things slower then just say so. I-I just don’t want to let you go.” Minho’s voice comes out so light you wonder how you hear it over the beating of your own heart, especially with how it races when his lips press a fleeting trail down your jaw between his words.

“Y-You don’t ever have to slow down Minho, I’ve wanted this.....wanted you for too long to do that now.” You insist with a low moan as his lips press a little firmer against a sweet spot on your neck.

Minho hums against your skin too caught up in you to care about words when he could show you how he felt better anyways. His hands gripping at your sides, thumbs rubbing soft circles as if he’s afraid he’ll break you by being too firm. So you decide to make a larger move, reaching to grip the hem of his sweater and pull it off him, letting your hands and eyes roam his newly exposed skin. The feel of his warm skin beneath your fingertips heating you up inside, the flame of desire flaring up faster than you would have thought possible if the person before you had been anyone other than Minho. Minho’s hands gripping yours before looking up at you for permission, hesitating even as you nod.

“You sure you won’t be too cold?” Minho’s fingers peak under the hem to rub gently at your skin beneath it.

“Well if I am then I guess you’ll just have to warm me up.” Your words seem to light the same fire in Minho as he doesn’t hesitate a second longer to his sweater off you. Hands running over your stomach to squeeze your breasts through the bra, leaning down to kiss you again.

“Guess I will.” Minho speaks against your lips, tone deepening as he lowers again moving to rid you of your bra as his lips trail towards your chest. You nipples pebbling slightly from the frigid air and his advances, but noticing the unpleasant chill that runs through you he presses against you more, letting his warmth radiate onto you. His warm mouth closing around your one nipple as his hand toys with and warms the other, switching between them with a new path of kisses to make sure they get equal attention. Until he gets impatient to show his affections elsewhere and his mouth lowers while adding soft nips between kisses to reach the hem of the sweatpants he gave you to wear. His fingers nimble as they work on the tie, though he doesn’t do more than that until he has permission from you to pull them down and leave you in only your panties.

“Oh the thoughts I had while helping you get untangled from your shirt last night my flower, and to think now a few of them are becoming reality.” Minho places a kiss to your hip, as his hands gently spread your legs, loving the way he’s able to fluster you so easily, “I’ve been dying for a taste and you’re not making it any easier for me. May I?”

The way he drags his thumb over the wet patch of your panties makes it hard to respond when you’re moaning and focused on that surge of pleasure, but the thought of getting something more urges you to form words, “Y-Yes please, I’ve been wanting to feel your mouth.”

“All you had to do was ask precious.” Minho gently blows against the wet patch making you squirm before kissing your thigh and slipping off your panties and lowering himself between your legs, placing the gentlest of kisses to your clit. The way you whine impatiently makes him chuckle against your core only making you squirm, his thumbs rubbing softly against your plush thighs as he grips them firmly to keep them open instead of impeding his work. He has no intent on tormenting you with teasing, not this morning anyways, but he still wants to savor the moment. The way he licks through your folds slow yet firm enough to spark delicious waves of pleasure through you, enough so that you can’t complain too much about his pace. Minho’s tongue and lips working everywhere to get every last drop of you that he can, while also focusing on your reactions to find what makes you feel the best. Knowing that his own patience will wear thin soon enough and he wants to know how to throw you over that sweet edge with more intensity than you thought possible, wanting to make all of you feel as amazing as his heart did upon hearing your confession.

“M-Minho please, I want to feel all of you.” Desperation bleeds into your words and actions as you squirm against his grip, hips trying to roll against his mouth and it has his eyes darkening with a new surge of lust. Nearly giving into you pleas, but you’re his first priority and it has him pulling away slightly making you whimper.

“Shh pretty girl, shh.” Minho coos softly, grip loosening as he runs his hands over your thighs and hips trying to get you to relax some, “Calm down, don’t get so worked up. I’ll give you what you want, I promise. You just need to calm down so that I can get you ready for me. We’ve waited a long time I know, but you can be good and wait just a little longer can’t you?”

This time a simple nod isn’t enough for him as he’s a little firmer with you in this moment, pinching your thigh lightly as he demands your words, “Y-Yes sir, I can be good for you.”

Minho has to take a deep, shuttering breath when he hears the word sir fall from your lips so perfectly, now was not the time to lose control, not when he wanted to show you every emotion he’d had trapped inside for so long. Not when he knew there’d be plenty of time for that later. Yet, it does have him snap a little as he dives between your legs again with more purpose. Lips suckling and kissing your clit like his survival depended on it, eyes locked on your face as he feels your fingers weave into his hair. The soft tug you give has him moaning against your clit, only adding to that pleasure as he eases a finger in, though it’s not long before he’s able to add another. Curling them with each thrust in search of the spot that would have you trembling against him, thriving off the pleasure he’d able to feed you right now, nothing else in the world mattering more than your cries for him and the way you lose yourself to the sensations. He knows he’s found that spot, when you’re clenching around him, practically sucking his fingers in, thighs shaking as your edge hovers so close and yet just barely out of reach.

“Minho, please I’m close. Please make me cum or give me your cock, I-I don’t know how much longer I can wait.” Your pleas sound magical to Minho, it being enough for him to give you what you want, speeding up his fingers as his tongue flicks against your clit as he brings it between his lips again. Willing to throw your over the edge for the first time, so that he can have you losing his own patience as your nails drag lightly over his shoulders. The was you fall apart beneath him is like a work of art, the most beautiful Minho has ever seen as he slips his fingers from your spasming core to gently lick over you and ride you through the pleasure until you come back to him. Kissing you briefly before licking his fingers clean while keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“You’re sweeter than I ever could have imagined my flower.” Minho hums in approval, his smirk almost showing more in his eyes than on his lips. You’re quick to respond though not wanting him to drag it out any longer.

“I bet we’d taste sweeter together, but there’s only one way to find that out now isn’t there?” You purr back as your fingers work to untie his sweatpants, gripping both them and his undergarments to impatiently push both down at once. Freeing his beautiful, hardened length to you finally. Not giving him to to ask for your permission before you rub his tip through your folds, leg locking around his waist to urge his hips closer. Your actions seem to be enough as he places his hands on either side of you, slowly pushing in and leaning in as he gives you a moment to adjust to him.

“You were awfully loud earlier flower, if you don’t quiet down then all the boys will know what we’ve been up to. Do you want that?” Minho’s question is somewhat serious, but it also holds a teasing to it as he’s proud of the fact that he can make you feel good enough to be so loud. You getting him back by rolling your hips against him and earning a groan from him. Hands slipping around his neck to tug him down and tease his lips with your own.

“Why don’t you shut me up then?” Your words are almost daring and they have him crashing his lips messily against yours as his own hips start to move against you. The patience between you both is gone as he finds a quick pace and yet he’s not manhandling or overly rough in his treatment, the erotic scene still one of passionate lovers. Baring their emotions to each other in the most desperate of ways despite not being able to handle a slow pace any longer. It being everything you could have asked for and more, right now you didn’t need the soft, slow lovemaking. You need this the desperate lovemaking, the kind that showed that Minho had been longing for you just as much as you’d been longing for him. The kind that showed that you were his now and that he would show you that in every way possible for as long as you would ask it of him. Where every move he made was to find what made you feel best, because you were what he most cared for in this world and where it was so much better than he could have imagined that he wasn’t sure if he could hold off. Though he was intent on your pleasure coming first as he angled himself to perfectly hit the spots he found brought you the most pleasure with each drag of his cock, thumb rubbing quick circles into your clit as his other hand tangled into your hair to keep your lips pressed against his. Taking in all of your moans as your pleasure explodes once more, the feeling of you cumming on his cock enough to send him spiraling into his own high as he moans into your mouth in response. Slowing his thrusts as he rides you both through your highs. Hands gently tracing shapes over your heated flesh, finding you glowing in the aftermath of your climax.

“Come on my flower, I’ll help you shower before we join the others.” Minho kisses your forehead softly before scooping you up to take you to the bathroom. Getting you in the steaming shower as quickly as he can so that you won’t have to face the cold while bare for too long and so that you two can be quick enough to be able to get some food in before the others ate everything. Not that he wouldn’t cook you up a good breakfast if it came down to it. Willing to shower you in all affections imaginable after what you both had just done. Though before long Minho had you both cleaned up and in warm fresh clothes, going down the stairs to join the others.

“Weren’t you wearing something different this morning?” Jisung questions Minho slyly as if they hadn’t all heard what you two had been up to earlier. Minho knew what he meant, but still didn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Yeah well I took a shower, so I put on something else.” Minho shrugs pulling out a seat for you, before taking his own so you two could eat breakfast as well.

“Oh did Y/N shower too? Her hair is all damp still.” Jisung innocently inquires taking a bite of his pancake trying to hide his smug expression. Minho gently moving your damp hair away from your bare skin so that it wouldn’t get too chilled.

“Well then you obviously know the answer.” Minho rolls his eyes adding his portion of whipped cream and other sweet toppings to your plate instead of his own.

“Hm I just find that interesting considering we only heard one shower running.” Jisung smirks at you both as the others snicker and chuckle, teasing you all through breakfast while exchanging knowing looks.

The teasing had died down some later as you all gathered around to exchange gifts. Feeling your heart stutter as you hold Minho’s in your hands, the man seeming flustered as you go to open it. Finding a small necklace inside one that looked like a lifeline with a heart at the end, flipping it over to find his initials on the back besides yours.

“So if things had been different this would have been when I confessed.” He admits in a soft whisper into your ear, a blush adorning his cheeks so beautifully as you laugh softly.

“It’s alright I liked the way things turned out much better anyways.” Minho admits before the guys pretend to gag and whine at all the pda they were witnessing.

“Alright enough of the mushy stuff, you have to open mine next.” Hyunjin dramatically insists shoving his gift in front of you, a pretty envelope sitting on top and beckoning you to open the card first. Your attention immediately drawn to a special little note at the bottom...

PS. Minho’s name was the only one in that hat.

“Well guess I ruined your little plan huh?” You tease, flustering along with him as he presses a soft kiss to your cheek in front of everyone.

#stray kids #stray kids smut #minho #minho smut #lee know #lee know smut #lee minho #lee minho smut #smutmas

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a-simple-imagine · 4 years

Text

Run Away With Me

Synopsis: Every moment shared with Charlie Weasley is an adventure all it’s own. How you wish to spend every moment together and all it takes is to run away.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x fem!reader

Words: 6.3k+

A/N - Every year I post a story on my birthday and today’s the day I turn a year older. Usually these stories are pretty sad but this year I wrote something a little softer so here is my birthday present for you guys, I hope you enjoy it.

1. A Stolen Kiss

A bright-eyed and clueless young student, excited to be attending a school of magic. Nobody else in your family had magic so it was a big surprise when you received a letter alongside a weird lady who looked like she just stepped out of the early 1920s. Sat between your parents, the older woman explained the entire situation much to your excitement and your parents' confusion.

Diagon alley had been your first experience of all things magical; it had been like stepping into another world instead of just any old street in London. There were book shops lined with all kinds of books, some were bigger than your head while others were tiny. A shop that sold weird and kinda gross jars full of who knows what. There was a place that only sold brooms but according to the list you had read like a hundred times, first years weren't allowed their own brooms. You spent what felt like a lifetime at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions getting fitted for robes. Your parents were utterly fascinated by all the different styles and kept asking questions that made the experience so much longer than it really needed to be. You'd never had a pet before, but after a lot of begging they let you pick out a cat; he was a small Persian cat. Not quite a kitten but not quite fully grown. Checking off each item as you went along, you were exhausted by the end of it. There was even enough time for a trip to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour where you had enjoyed a cone of strawberries and cream with sprinkles on top. All that was left on your list was a wand. Peeling gold letters rested over the door of a shop that read: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. Stepping inside it was a tiny little store with no costumers. Thousands of narrow boxes lined the walls all the way up to the ceiling. It didn't take long for the weird old man to give you a wand that felt warm in your hand. Unlike the other disasters that came at the result of you waving various wands, a stream of red and gold sparks shoot out the end of this one like a mini firework. The wand chooses the wizard whatever the hell that meant. All ready and packed for Hogwarts, you were really giddy to go. Your mother cried as she waved you off to boarding school but you couldn't sit still. The train ride took hours and it was a little lonely considering you didn't know anyone but as soon as you entered the castle you knew it was exactly where you were meant to be. The building was massive and practically oozed magic and mystery through each brick. The pictures, much to your surprise, were moving on their own. Hogwarts had four houses and each student had to sit on a tall stool, put on a funny talking hat which would decide ultimately where they belong.

The very first friend you made was Nymphadora Tonks but only because she was in all of your classes and by some twist of fate you always ended up seated together. She was a sweet girl with pink hair and a talent for mischief. There was never a dull moment with you two. Then there was Charlie Weasley. Ever since that brisk day in October when he had ridden in clumsily on his white horse to save the day, the two of you had been the best of friends. You were still getting used to all your different classes. Potions class, however, was proving the most difficult. Too many ingredients and types to get used to. Not to mention Snape was just... mean. The task had been to prepare a simple Wiggenweld Potion; a powerful healing potion that can be used to heal injuries, or reverse the effects of a Sleeping Draught. The book was open on the desk as you carefully followed the instructions until.... poof. All the confidence you'd gained since arriving disappeared as Snape scolded you in front of everyone for messing up. Charlie had swooped in to take the blame landing himself in late-night detention. On the other hand, you got to leave with your tail between your legs and a few house points shaved off the total. And yet even his small act of kindness wasn't enough to capture your affection at least not at first. For the little version of yourself was infatuated with another Weasley. An older Weasley.

The nerves of a handful of students could be felt by anyone sat in the great hall for breakfast. Tonks is sat beside you running butter over a piece of toast. Stifling a yawn, Charlie takes a seat across from the two of you sporting a jumper of Gryffindor red and gold.

"Good morning," You flash your cheeriest, half-asleep smile bringing your spoon of Cheeri Owls to your lips. "Nervous?"

"A little," He was looking especially pale today suggesting he was more than just a little.

"You should be," Tonks perks up. "It's only the last game of the season and all hope rides on the seeker,"

"No pressure then," Charlie huffs out a dull laugh. The boy excelled in his position as the Gryffindor seeker but there was no way to determine how he'd play today when he was carrying the hopes and dreams of his teammates and entire house.

"You should eat something," You suggest, pushing a bowl of assorted fruit forward. There was little you could to make him feel better except take his spot but that wasn't allowed. You also probably wouldn't be that good. "Might make you feel better?"

"I'm too nervous to eat," He insisted but he still took an apple; rolling the red fruit between his palms.

"Win or lose you're still number one in our heart, right Tonks?" Elbowing her gently, you shovel another spoonful of 'O' shapes into your mouth.

"Sure," she shrugs. "If you want we can jinx the other team's seeker? I've been practising."

"Or... how much time do we have? I can get one of the older students to brew some Felix Felicis." You play along. "Nothing like a little liquid luck to win a game."

"You both know that's not allowed," Charlie took a large bite of his apple.

"When has Tonks ever cared about rules," Sometimes you wish she did care, you probably wouldn't have ended up in detention so many times alongside her.

"Thanks but no," he took another bite. "We have to win fair and square."

The conversation drifted from nerves to lost spells and planned practical jokes. Charlie seemed to relax a little the more he spoke. Maybe all he needed was a distraction to cheer him up.

"We need to take a trip to Hogsmeade" Tonk announces. "I'm out of dungbombs."

"Urgh- you and that silly joke shop." You can't help but roll your eyes but it was all good-natured. Despite hardly ever buying anything yourself, you spent an awful lot of time at Zonko's infamous little joke shop. "I could do with a trip outside the castle though. You should come too Charlie and maybe... you could ask Bill if he wants to come?"

"You're still gushing over Bill," Now it was Tonks turn to elbow you playfully, her lips curling up into a tantalising smirk.

"I do not gush over him," you state firmly, brows knitting together in a frown. You didn't appreciate being made fun. Bill was older, wiser and always made time to show you kindness. He made your little heart flutter whenever you saw him and Tonks took every opportunity to tease you about it. "I just thought It'd be nice is all. Wouldn't you agree, Charlie?"

"If you want him to come, ask him yourself." He responds, taking a large gulp of his juice.

"She won't because she has a crush."

"I don't have a crush Nymphadora- stop it," It was infinitely more embarrassing talking about this with Charlie sat at the table. "Don't ask him then, I don't care."

"Yes you do," Placing her arm around your shoulder, she pulls you into her side. "Because you're in love-"

"I am not!" You snap, pushing out of her grip.

"I'll see you guys later." The two of you share a look as Charlie disappears without another word. It was probably just pregame nerves.

"You know what? I think I'll get some frogspawn soap too and put it in the prefects' bathroom." Typical Tonks.

You'd come to learn through your time at Hogwarts that Quidditch was the most popular sport among wizards. And each house had their own team who compete for a trophy and bragging rights. Today was the final game thankfully. Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. Apparently, it came down to these two a lot. As the Gryffindor team filter out of the changing rooms, you slip inside to find Charlie sitting on a little bench.

"Guess who?" You sing-song, slapping your hands over his eyes but only briefly. He turns to look at you with an almost sour expression.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to support you," you reply soft, offering a smile he couldn't even see as he turned away.

"You're not supposed to be in here," Had you done something to upset him? Surely not. This was the first time you were seeing him since breakfast so there hadn't been a moment for you to mess things up and yet, his voice held an icy chill.

"Guess Tonks is rubbing off on me?" You jest, looking around the room. It was empty apart from you two. Bags and clothes scattered across benches or half shoved into lockers. A chalkboard stood in the corner with drawings you couldn't understand. "I just wanted to see how you were doing before the big game, is all. We were worried about you."

"You were worried about me," He repeats slowly, looking up at you. "I thought you hated quidditch."

"I still do," Your shoulders rise in a little shrug. "It's silly. Doesn't matter how hard the team works or how many goals it's pretty much all decided by how good the seeker is so why even have goals?"

"Score enough goals before the snitch is caught and anyone could win," He perks up. "You just don't understand how good and exciting it is."

Your lips curl up in appreciation for Charlie Weasley and his love for quidditch. It didn't possess the sparkle that came along when he talks about dragons but it was still nice to see him liven up. "Then go out there and show me how exciting it is,"

You stand under the spotlight of his gaze as he seemingly takes in your choice of attire; wearing the Gryffindor colours with pride to show your support. You even let Tonks paint your face after she promised not to draw genitalia. "Do you really think we're gonna win? What if I mess up and everyone hates me?"

"Then you mess up and everyone hates you," You shrug a little. "But that's not gonna happen and you know why?" His head shakes slowly. "It's because you're the best seeker at this school Charles Weasley." You place your hands on either side of his shoulders. "And I believe in you."

"How does that help me?" With your index finger under his chin, you force him to meet your eyes.

"Because I'm never wrong."

"That doesn't sound right." He tries to look away but you stop him.

"But it is," You offer a reassuring smile; one full of determination. "You've got this Charlie. So come on before you miss the game entirely."

The cheers outside were seemingly growing louder by the second. With a deep breath, Charlie stands up, grabbing his broom. "You're staying to watch, right?"

"Of course. Tonks is up in the stands too." Taking his hand, you lead the way out of the tent. "Consider us your good luck charms." Charlie brings the both of you to an abrupt stop before you even reach the opening of the tent, pulling you back to him. "What's up?"

The peppering of freckles that covered Charlie's face was even more vibrant against the rose pink blush. You squeeze his hand a little hoping it makes him feel better. And then it happens. The crowd grows silent in your ear but only for a moment as Charlie's surprisingly soft lips crash clumsily against yours. "For good luck," his whispers; his hand slipping from yours as he leaves you dumbfounded.

"He okay?" Tonks asks as you return from your trip.

"Yeah... still nervous," You reply, sitting down beside her. "It's his first big game after all."

"Are you okay?" The crowd erupts into cheers as the Gryffindor team flys in first. You're almost too embarrassed to look for Charlie; worried about what you might find so you keep your head down. "You look like you've just seen a troll or something?"

"Mhmm," you hum, forcing yourself to watch the Slytherin team as they enter. Why had Charlie kissed you? Did it mean he liked you or was he just messing around? Your head swirled with possibilities.

"You want a sweet?" Your friend offers as the game finally starts. It takes you a second to register but you smile, reaching into the little bag she was holding only to come to a stop.

"They're not gonna burn my tongue off or something are they?"

"No," Her chuckle sounded a little too innocent but you trust her for some reason. Taking a piece of confectionery out of the paper bag.

"Charlie... kissed me." You announce, throwing the sweet into you mouth; face scrunching up when they turn out to be sour. Ten points to Slytherin as they take the lead.

"He what?"

"He... kissed me."

2. Together

Who was Bill Weasley but a distant playground crush after that day. And your time of classrooms and magic lessons came swiftly to an end; how bittersweet it felt to leave a place you loved dearly. A once naive little girl stepping into the unknown now called the Wizarding World Home. Now you would go on to be a healer which was simply a magical doctor although your parents strongly disagreed with the comparison. However proud they were of you there would always be some part of them that wished you had chosen to become a lawyer or 'real' doctor.

Bathed in the warm embrace of the setting sun, you ponder the tranquility in a bed of green grass. The youngest Weasley lay beside you, struggling to keep still as often children do. She was similar to her brother in that way who now paced back and forth a mere few steps away. The invitation had been for dinner but you arrived a little early. The burrow was always such a welcoming place like stepping into a home you used to live in many moons ago; it was cosy and warm and there was no doubt that many lived there. You found your house to be almost the opposite, it always looked like nobody lived there. Immaculate. Polished. Cold.

"Will you stop pacing, you're making me nervous." You call out to your boyfriend, opening your eyes only to squint at the bright light. "What's wrong with you?"

Charlie comes to a stop as you sit up; Ginny mimics you in sitting up but the boy's eyes stay on you. The longer he stared, the more the pit in your stomach grew; what exactly hid behind his blank expression. He normally possessed such a playful warmth but it seemed to have vanished as of late. Plucking a stray purple flower, you enclose it in the palm of your hands. "You know I love dragons right?"

"Of course," Since meeting him, he had probably managed to slip dragons into every conversation you had ever had. It was at a point where you knew far more about dragons than you ever really cared to know. Many found his obsession annoying because that's what he so obviously was, obsessed but you found it enticing. Charming, even. Opening up your hand, a small butterfly with deep plum-purple wings flutters into the air and onto a giggly Ginny's nose. The innocent glee of a child; how those days were gone for you. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Promise you won't be mad?" It would be foolish to make such a promise when there was no way to guarantee your reaction. Whatever it was must be bad, if he was this worried. Your shoulders rise a little then fall.

"I make no such promises- just tell me."

Charlie took a breath that travelled on the wind to your ears before he blurted out. "I'm moving to Romania."

"Okay," Is your first reaction while your brain tries to make sense of something it didn't want to hear. "Wait- what?"

"Charlie is moving away to work with big scary dragons," Ginny announces playfully, baring her little hands like claws.

The once small pit grew into a mighty black hole of uncertainty and sadness that threatened to swallow you whole. There had been conversations shared between friends of Charlie wanting to move away to a foreign land, just to finally see a dragon but you had never taken it at face value. Always so convinced it was but a dream rather like those of when you were little and you wished to be a vampire. Technically back then you didn't know they actually existed but still, even now it was never going to come true. Eyes cast upon the second eldest Weasley, he kicks up the grass with his hands buried in the pockets of his pants. "It's the nearest Dragon reserve."

That was something you already knew but it didn't make the decision, at least in your eyes, any less confusing. Instead, it prompted water to well up in your eyes for this was something that affected not only him and his family but your life too. "I... I don't know what to say,"

"Hey Ginny, can you go check if dinner's ready yet?"

"No- why can't you do it?" The bark behind her words was very in character for the fiesty young Weasley. Blinking away the tears, you plaster on the best smile you can muster.

"If you go check on dinner I promise we can play a game later, okay? Exploding snap maybe?"

"Really?" She eyes you suspicious probably because it was a promise you had broken before. Not always for the right reasons but this time it was genuine. Charlie clearly wanted this to be a private conversation or perhaps he was just saving you for the inevitable moment where she asks why you're crying. Ginny scrambles to feet when you nod and skips off towards the gravity-defying house. It still amazed you that the building hadn't fallen yet. Rising to your feet you brush yourself off.

"You know I want nothing more than to work with Dragons and this is the only way I can do that," There was no mistaking the serious tone that came along with his words. It didn't matter what you said there was no changing his mind but you wouldn't do that anyway. It seemed cruel to even try to get him to give up on something so precious and you would never want to do that to him. "I have an opportunity to do something I love and I won't waste it to get some boring job at the ministry."

"I don't expect you too..." You wanted nothing more than to tell him to stay; beg him even. You were fighting against the selfish little devil that was stabbing you in the heart. It was a dull, deep pain in your chest. You wanted Charlie to follow his dreams, you just never expected them to not include you. "It's just a lot to take in."

"I know," The red-headed boy walks ever so slowly over to you, taking both hands in his. His hands had always felt a little rough ever since Hogwarts. You used to complain back then and insist he needed to moisturise but over time you had grown fond of the familiarity. How you wished this tender moment could last forever because it very well might be your last. You're caught off guard when he yanks you forward. You stumble into his chest where he wraps his arms around you like the big teddy bear he was. You breathe in every inch of him like it was the last time. The intoxicating aroma of an early walk in the woods; that fresh earthy smell that really makes you appreciate where you are. You could almost picture the pine trees.

"I feel like I'm losing you," Your words but a whisper, lost on the breeze.

"You're not," His grip around you tightens and suddenly your in the air, spinning around. "You could never get rid of me that easily.

"Charlie," You fight back a smile as you return to the ground; burying your face in the nook of his neck. "What's gonna happen to us?"

"About that-"

"Because I don't know if I can do the whole long-distance thing? So do we break up?" The tears threaten to fall once again as you pull back to get a good look at him. You never wanted to forget the emerald of his eyes or each and every freckle that called his body home. The unusual scare that adorned his eyebrow that was always amusing to look at. If that was his true purpose to break up with you then there would be no stopping the tears when they finally burst through the damn.

"No, I-"

"Because that's a little mean Charlie, you could have at least waited until after dinner. Should have done it first actua-"

You words become mumbled by the palm of his hand which he's placed over your mouth like a seal of protection. "Shush for a minute."

It's hard to resist so you simply don't; sticking your tongue you deliberately lick the palm of his hand but it seems to not phase him whatsoever.

"I'm not breaking up with you, silly," You meet his gaze. "I was kind of thinking you could come with me?"

Reaching up, you yank his hand away. "To Romania? You've got to be joking."

"Why not?"

Did you even know how to answer that? There were so many reasons why one should not just up and leave to go live in a completely different country with the boy they dated through high school. "I can't just up and leave my family- my mum will be devastated."

"I'll talk to her about it," Charlie hums softly, placing a delicate kiss upon your forehead. "Your mum loves me and she wants you to be happy."

"Dinner's Ready," For such a small girl, Ginny had one big mouth. There was no mistaking her call. However, this whole situation now felt a little... off. Could you even sit through dinner without it all becoming weird?

"We're coming," Charlie yells back; offering up his hand which you reluctantly take and he leads the way back to the house. "You want to be a healer right? You could do that in Romania."

"I guess," You weren't exactly worried about not finding a job.

"You don't have to decide right now," He tells you before you have a chance to speak up again. "Just think about it. I mean the invitation is there and for what it's worth, I'd really like you to come."

3. Creeping doubts

It took a lot of convincing but despite everything you decided to follow Charlie into the Unknown. Your parents weren't thrilled with the decision but they respected it; they were just worried about what would happen if something went wrong. And as their only child, they would obviously miss you. A lot of time was spent at the burrow that summer before moving to Romania; you were beginning to feel like an honorary Weasley only with the experience of having been a muggle for the first eleven years of your life. It was but a three-hour flight to Romania and your mother had sobbed at the airport. It made you think back to your first time stepping onto the Hogwarts express, leaving your parents behind to go to a magical boarding school in Scotland. It was a peculiar thought but a nice one. One you wished to cherish. Now in a foreign land with no support system behind you other than a boy you had been dating for years, you were ready for a new adventure. And there was officially no doubt in your mind that you would do just about anything for Charlie Weasley.

"It's not much," Charlie sets his suitcase down on the table. "Best I could do, for now, I'm afraid."

"It's fine," It was an old apartment in a building full of what you assumed were muggles. There was a small living room area with an ugly pea-coloured couch nestled against one wall. Beside it was a small coffee table and on the other side of the room was a TV, you weren't convinced actually worked. Then there was the kitchen which was attached to the living room. It had a fridge, a cooker and some cupboards. The only other room was a bedroom that literally only housed a bed in at the moment, then there was a door that leads on to the bathroom. It definitely wasn't much but a crappy apartment was just part of the experience, right? At least that's what you were telling yourself. "it'll feel like home soon enough," You had everything you needed to make this place feel like home right in your suitcase; oh the joys of magic. Patting yourself down, you search for the key to easy unpacking. "Uh... have you seen my wand?"

His head shakes and wears an amused grin. "You remembered to bring it right?"

"Yes," you huff. "I was gonna unpack," Falling back against the wall, you slide down onto the floor which you imagine hasn't been cleaned in a while considering the dust. "It's gonna take so long without my wand- which may actually be in the suitcase now that I think about it."

"Did you forget I'm a wizard too?"

"You do it then," You drop your head back against the wall. "I'm starving."

"actually have you seen my wand?"

You giggle to yourself "You're an idiot,"

"Hey- you lost your wand too." His shadow lingers over you as he comes to join you against the wall. Taking up a seat beside you, your head falls to rest against his shoulder.

"Can we get pizza? I saw some of those leaflets when we came in so we could order some?"

"Whatever you want, my love."

As time ticks on the pizza box is left discarded in the kitchen as the two of you retire for the night. Who knew not actually unpacking but simply thinking about it while eating pizza on the dirty ground could be so much work. You struggle to hold back a yawn as you snuggle up to him trying to absorb as much of his body heat as you can. All that lay across the two of you were a blanket and this building was next exactly the warmest. "Do you think we'll be okay? "You ponder aloud; it was a question that had been on your mind since agreeing to follow him to Romania. For not many people stay together with their high school loves. What if things fall apart now that you're in the 'real' world? What if this was all just a huge mistake?

"What do you mean?" Always such a simple boy; you wonder how he deals with his anxieties. Did he actually not know what you meant or was he merely putting on a brave face? A once proud Gryffindor suggested that he always looked to be brave above anything else.

"Do you think we'll be okay?" You repeat as if that somehow answers his question but it must have done something because even in the darkness you can just tell he's smiling.

"You worry way too much." Charlie laughs.

"You don't worry enough,"

He lays a kiss upon the top of your head, his hand moving up and down your arm. "It used to be the other way around."

"I was young and reckless back then. "How you missed the days where you ran around the halls of Hogwarts with reckless abandon. Well, not entirely reckless that was more Tonks but things had definitely felt simpler back then.

"You're still young and reckless now, I just have to hear you stress about it afterwards." Charlie taunts, pinching your arm. You recoil at the sharp pain.

"Shush."

"Being in Romania doesn't change anything," He expresses; his voice sounding louder in the quiet darkness. "I loved you back home and I still love you now. I'm really glad you decided to come with me."

Hoping to distract yourself from every worrying thought that clouded your brain you decide it's time to change the subject. "Are you nervous about tomorrow?"

"Getting to work with Dragons all day every day? that's like dream come true."

"A dangerous one," Dragons were perhaps the most vicious creatures around other than humans. As captivating as they were and as much as charlie adored them, you couldn't help but worry about his safety. It seemed no matter the topic this evening you'd find a way to stress yourself out.

"I'll be fine, I'll have you there to patch me up," That he will for you had taken on the role as a healer willing to help out with all the injuries that inevitably come from dealing with dragons. You wouldn't admit it but you weren't quite convinced you were up to the task; you had never actually dealt with dragon-related injuries so this was like diving headfirst into the ocean when you only just learned how to swim in a training pool. "and if not- well, we had a good run."

"Don't joke about that," Nuzzling against his chest, you finally let your eyes close. Today was the start of forever with the one and only Charles Weasley and here he was joking about his ultimate demise.

4. The perfect day

It's peculiar how life can just fall into place. Your odd little world of dragons and leaky apartment buildings just became the norm. You had come to love your work at the reserve, Dragons were actually incredibly cool up close. Not to mention getting to see Charlie work with them after years of never shutting up about them was truly a sight to behold. Every day, it was like taking an excited little boy to his first day of school. His eyes simply lit up whenever he was at work although it was hard explaining his injuries to the neighbours when they were being nosey. You also had to be careful when using magic since you were basically living with muggles and it would be a headache if they ever found out.

With your site blocked by a thin piece of fabric, Charlie guides you carefully forward with his hands skillfully placed upon your arms to steer. This was the first day off the two of you have shared in a long time. Little information was given about your destination other than it being a surprise. With Charlie that could mean just about anything which wasn't always a good thing but you trusted him enough to believe he wasn't leading you into a dragon's den or something. A gentle breeze nipped at the skin of your neck and the ground felt soft under your feet. The gentle singing of a symphony of birds filled the air and the sun beamed down with remarkable easy. All this suggested you were somewhere withdrawn in nature. Charlie had always been one for the great outdoors. There were countless times you had found him sneaking in or out of the forbidden forest back at school.

"Am I going to like this surprise?" You inquire; your anxiety building with each step. You would much prefer to simply know what was going on rather than experience some dramatic reveal especially today of all days. Every year the boy seems to forget that he agreed not to make a big deal.

"I sure hope so," You practically slam into him as she comes to an unexpected standstill. "Because I don't think I can return it."

"Return what? Oh god- can I take my blindfold off?"

As the flimsy fabric skims the length of your face to settle loosely around your neck, your eyes take a minute to adapt. You don't know quite what you were expecting but this was not it. Before you stands a small cottage surrounded by nothing but a wide-open field full of a rainbow of wildflowers. It was a beautiful little house with as much charm and beauty you'd expect from a place out in what seems like the middle of nowhere. It could be described as the perfect place to settle down.

"Surprise!" He was redder than a cherry tomato when he stepped into view. Both arms in the air as a sign of celebration but you were just rather... confused? Whose house was this and why had he brought you all the way out here?

"I don't get it?"

"We've been here for a while now so I thought we should get our own place or like, a better place. One where we don't have to worry about anyone else." His confidence appeared to develop with each word but his face was still powdered in a deep shade of pink. S this was your house? He'd decided to up and move without even consulting you? "So I got us a little cottage in the middle of nowhere. It kinda reminds me of the burrow only, y'know, smaller."

"It's ours?" His excitement is clear on his face and he quickly takes your hand. Pulling you along with him. "And that's not all."

"There's more?" Surely a whole house was enough. You were quite proud of Charlie for picking such a beautiful little place. Come summertime, you could already see yourself sitting among the flowers painting little pictures. You also wouldn't have to worry about muggles. Coming up on the front door, your boyfriend delivers you a little golden key. And with just a tiny degree of fear about what could be on the other side you unlock it. Much to your astonishment and disappointment, nothing is behind the door except the hallway leading inside. Charlie enters first and even as you follow, you half expect someone to jump out.

"I know I agreed not to make a big deal but how could I not?" He opens a door at the end of the hallway that leads to the kitchen. It's not a massive space but it's assuredly not small either, the whole place was already furnished but you recognise the surprise was truly what sat on the table. It was a two-tier cake covered in blue frosting including the words Happy Birthday scrawled across the top followed by your name.

"You... baked?"

"Mum sent it actually," Charlie chortled lightly as he wanders up behind you. Tossing a package of red with multicoloured polka-dots onto the table. "Sent this along too. Reckon it's a jumper or something."

"That was nice of her," You weren't sure of how to react to it all. Birthdays had never really been your thing but you appreciated that Mrs. Weasley had gone out of her way to make you something special.

"And from me..." He trails off and the sound of tiny tracks echo off the walls attended by an adorable yelp. Up to your feet slides an ash grey puppy who was more legs than anything else. It had bright blue eyes and floppy ears.

"You got me a dog?"

"I got us a dog- thought we needed a pet around here. I debated getting a crup but that'd be a disaster if your parents ever decide to visit." Crups were notorious for their dislike of muggles. You never understood why but he was right in his decision. The gesture was sweet but rather odd all things considered but still you smile. It was hard to be mad at something so cute and you weren't just talking about the dog. The puppy sits at your feet, wagging its little tail a mile a minute. There was no denying how adorable it was and at least it wasn't a dragon. Or a murtlap for that matter, those things were ugly. "You don't seem happy... do you not like him? I can take him back?" Kneeling, your hand drifts over the soft fur of the puppy's head. In response, the dog jumps up in an attempt to lick at your face. Your smile grows as you try to get away. "I think he likes you."

"What's his name?"

"Whatever you want? He's a Great Dane by the way." The puppy had calmed down a little and you stare as you ponder the perfect name for an ash grey Great Dane. "How about... Arlo?"

"Arlo?"

"Mhmm," You hum standing up straight. "And I'm plenty happy if not a little overwhelmed. You know how I feel when it comes to my birthday."

"I do," He nods casually. His palms snake around your waist drawing you flush against him "But I never want you to forget that someone cares about you- that I care about you so bloody much."

"I know you do," You give him a quick peck on the lips. "And I'm thankful for that and for all of this."

"Arlo is the perfect name, Happy Birthday" Your lips connect in a beautifully slow embrace that fills your body with warmth and as he pulls away, his forehead comes to rest against yours. The dog barking as it explores the kitchen. "I'm just so grateful that you decided to run away with me."

#Charlie Weasley x reader #Charlie Weasley #charlie weasley imagine #hogwarts mystery #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction

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julemmaes · 4 years

Note

One of the kids getting lost in a crowd.

Find Her

A/N: Have I ever told you how much I love angst? Oof, too much. This is set in the same au as this fic here, but there’s no need to read it to understand this. You only need to know that Nessian have five children: Ezra (15 - he’s 14 in the other part), Cal (10), Nora (7), Celia (6) and Andra (4). Ezra is my bby boy and I think we can all agree he’s the best;)

Enjoy!

Word count: 5,175

Cassian couldn't get over how hot a human being could get before collapsing or dying. He could feel the sweat dripping down his back as if he were under the shower jet, and Andra's sticky little hands pulling on his left arm every four seconds didn't help. His mind was somewhere else as he led his family toward the market parking lot.

They were spending their summer vacation in Adriata and although the last ten days had been great, today Nesta had had the great idea of taking the whole family to one of those traditional street markets and it hadn't even taken two hours before the whole Navarro team started complaining that they wanted to be at the beach instead of at that place of "old men with three minutes left of life" - as Celia had described it.

Nesta had tried to convince them that they could have fun there too, watching the locals as they created traditional items from the region and cocked typical local street food, but when she had turned around to see the reaction of the clique, even Cassian had a bored grimace on his face and had sighed, she had decided she stood no chance against them.

After all, though she would never admit it out loud, she didn't even mind all that much spending another day on the sand soaking up the sun while her kids played in the water and didn't bother her.

"Dad are you okay?" asked Ezra suddenly. Cassian turned to his son with a furrowed brow and maybe he had moved too fast because he saw black for a second.

He nodded bringing a hand up to his face to cover himself from the sun, "It's this goddamn heat that's making me sick, but I'm fine don't worry."

Nesta gave him a wary look, ready to snap forward in case her husband decided to pass out, but Cassian smiled lovingly at her and she sighed again, lowering her hat over her face.

"When we get to the beach can we go swimming right away?" asked Andra mumbling half the words as she ate a cookie.

"No, you have to wait until I've put sunscreen on you and everyone else," Nesta answered her flatly - they had that talk every day now. "No one goes in the water until you're all ready, remember?" her mom asked her.

Andra nodded, a little disappointed that she wouldn't be able to jump into the water the second they arrived. They'd made that rule after the fourth time the first two to be ready and “sunscreened” had run into the sea and left the others alone and it had been a ruckus of crying and fits of abandonment.

"I'm hungry." said Celia hopping in front of them and starting to walk backwards so she could look them in the face. Cassian was about to tell her to watch out for the road when the little girl stopped and frowned, making everyone else stop as well.

Nesta extended a hand towards her to cross the street, "We'll figure it out when we get to the car, now give me your hand come on."

"Mom," Cal said with a hint of agitation in his voice. Cassian turned to him feeling his uneasiness. His son's dark eyes locked into his, "Where's Nora?"

Ezra jerked his head up, taking his eyes off his phone, "She was next to me ten seconds ago." he said.

Cassian let go of Andra's hand, moving between them to see if she was hiding behind someone. "Nora!" he called agitatedly. He cast a quick glance at Nesta before starting to walk briskly in the direction they had just come from, motioning the people walking towards him. Ezra brought a hand to his hair and cursed.

Nesta counted her children and gave a choked noise, closing her eyes, "Let's be calm."

"Nora!" they heard Cassian yell again as the reality of what was happening was spread over them like a giant, suffocating black veil.

Ezra stepped closer to her, eyes wide, "I'm going with dad."

"No." said Nesta immediately, her hands beginning to shake. She felt her legs bounce with the need to run after Cassian and find their daughter. Her eyes darted from spot to spot in the garden, behind the bench, through the trees, next to the playground. Nora seemed to be nowhere to be found.

She heard a ringing in her ears and the faint sound of Cassian's voice shouting in the distance.

"Mom." called Ezra to her again, with more urgency.

Nesta snapped out of her trance and grabbed Andra's hand, taking her in her arms and giving her to Ezra, who took his sister without hesitation, "You hold them, I'll go with dad." then she pushed Celia and Cal closer to their older brother, "Please, please don't wander away from here." her voice broke mid-sentence and Ezra winced. He had never seen his mother so upset in his life. None of them had.

Andra began to whimper, probably only just realizing in that moment that Nesta was about to leave. Ezra put a hand on the back of her head and pushed her against his shoulder, "I got this, go find Nora."

Nesta looked into his eyes and blinked a few times, then counted again. One, Ezra, two, Cal, three- three, Celia, four, Andra. Only Nora was missing.

She turned and without another word began to run through the crowd, letting her eyes run over every figure shorter than her hips.

Her stomach was twisting so hard she was afraid she might throw up at any moment.

"Nora."

She saw Cassian freeze suddenly across the garden. Leaning forward as he brought his hands to his mouth in a daze and then resumed running through the crowd shouting his daughter's name.

Nesta stopped in turn, starting to spin around.

This place was too big.

Too big.

She began to breathe heavily, resuming to dart through people, asking anyone if they had seen a little girl with black hair and dark eyes.

No one answered her, but the reaction of the others was always the same. Their faces scrunched up in grimaces of pity and sadness.

Where is my daughter?

The second those words formed in her head a sob came desperately from her throat, scratching its way out of her.

A couple beside her had stopped and were about to approach her, but Nesta had no time.

She started running again, "Nora!"

She felt the dread of any possible option make its way inside her. The idea that she had only strayed from the family and was safe a hope too great for her to wish for.

The image of someone drawing Nora's attention away from the family and kidnapping her was as vivid as a picture in her mind.

How had this happened?

They had all been together until seconds before.

How had it-

Nesta's breath suddenly caught as her vision blurred and she leaned forward, bringing a hand to her throat. She closed her eyes, trying to breathe in enough air to keep looking for Nora.

How many minutes had passed?

How long had she been looking for her?

She felt a hand settle on her back and she snapped forward, pulling herself up and turning around to see who it was.

How long had she been gone?

Nesta sobbed as her face turned into a mask of pain. She had never seen that fear, that terror, in Cassian. She thought at that moment that no parent should ever be forced to feel such utter horror.

Cassian brought his hands to her shoulders, "Nes, I know," his voice as hoarse as hers, but his eyes were so serious, so focused, "I can't find her either, but she can't be too far away." he tried to reason with her.

"What if-" she took a shuddering breath, "what if she hasn't gone far?"

His eyes darkened as he squeezed her shoulders.

"What if someone took her?" she breathed.

Cassian shook his head, looking around, "Don't talk shit, kids get lost all the time," then turned around eyeing all the kids running through the crowd, "She'll be around here for sure."

Her children never strayed.

"Listen to me," Nesta demanded, "it happens. Children get kidnapped and- and taken to the other side of the world to be sold." another sob escaped her.

Cassian closed his eyes, breathing through his nostrils, "Can you please not talk about child trafficking right now?" he begged her. Then she looked over his shoulder and behind him immediately after, "Where are the others?" the panic clear in his voice.

Nesta put a hand on his chest, "They're with Ezra at the entrance of the park." she reassured him, "So if Nora comes through there, they'll see her."

Cassian nodded, then gave her a quick kiss on the lips, bringing her hands to her face, "We find her, okay?"

Nesta nodded.

"And we're not leaving until we do," he murmured.

Then they parted again.

Every time she heard a child crying, laughing, screaming, Nesta felt hope bloom in her chest and her heart break when she realized it wasn't Nora.

A lady had flanked her after ten minutes and they had been looking together for half an hour. She had returned to the entrance after a few minutes to leave Ezra some money and the car keys in case they needed anything, but she had begged them again not to move from where she had left them.

"What was she wearing?" the woman asked. Nesta turned to her with wide eyes and it was as if he couldn't see her. She was looking at her but had no face, no name.

She shook her head, bringing her hands to her temples and closing her eyes, trying to remember what she had taken out of the suitcase that morning, but billions of memories and images were repeating in her head.

The first outfit they had given her when she was still pregnant and had found out she was expecting a girl. The way she had realized just then that she was going to have a little girl.

All the pairs of white and pink and purple booties they had bought her. All the toys she had been submerged in and all the things her aunts and uncles had spoiled her with by being the first of the girls to enter the family.

"I don't remember," she whispered, "I don't remember. My husband dressed her this morning."

Oh god, Cassian.

She hadn't seen him in half an hour, but she knew that he too had gone to make sure the others were okay and had stayed put at the entrance. Cal had made sure to let her know.

The lady put a hand on her shoulder, "It's okay, it's not important." then she stepped closer and Nesta looked up, "If you don't want to involve the authorities that's fine, but there's one of the park rangers there, I think it would be wise to go talk to them, spread the word. Maybe Nora could hear someone talk about it too and get help."

Upon hearing her daughter's name, Nesta felt the tears build up behind her eyelids again. She nodded slightly and then the woman pushed her towards the ranger.

***

Cassian was going crazy.

Never in his life had he felt such extreme fear as he was feeling right now.

He could hear Nora's voice calling to him from every direction and none.

He could hear her laughter like an echo in the distance. He could see her dark, ever-cheerful eyes and-

"Nora!" he shrieked with all the voice he had left. He had lost track of time, but he knew it had been too many minutes, too many seconds, since his daughter had walked away. Too much time for her not to be crying in despair because she couldn't find her parents, her brothers or sisters, any person with a familiar face. He didn't want to picture her thinking they had abandoned her.

A group of people turned toward him, shocked by that sudden burst of hopelessness and anger. He brought a hand to his mouth and choked on a sob.

Nesta had planted the seed of doubt in his head and now he couldn't think of anything else but Nora being dragged away by strangers.

He tried to take a deep breath, to no avail.

Where are you? Where are you-

"Nora where are you?" he said in a broken voice, spinning around.

Two girls in the group stood up, approaching cautiously.

"Sir," one of them asked. Under other circumstances, Cassian would have laughed in outrage at that word. "Have you lost someone?"

"My daughter, Nora," he answered immediately, continuing to look around. How was it possible that there were so many people and no one had found her yet? Surely, a little girl crying in need would have found help right away. "She has dark hair and today she had two braids with fuchsia scrunchies and light blue pants and a green t-shirt."

"We heard one of the guards talking to your wife, I think," said the other. Cassian looked at them, they both had serious and worried expressions on their faces. "If you want we can help look for her."

"Please." he murmured, nodding. The words left his mouth before he could think them out.

One of the two girls turned to the group, "Guys come here."

It didn't take Cassian more than a minute to explain where they had last seen her and how she was dressed, how tall she was. And although he knew these people's intentions were good, he couldn't block out the concern. He was providing a clear picture of his daughter to a group of strangers that could have been as dangerous as they were helpful.

The feeling of panic and dread only intensified as they all scattered, beginning to shout his daughter's name.

He couldn't help but wonder if this would only make the situation worse.

Nora was smart and would never leave of her own will. But she was also very reserved, probably the shyest of their large family, if she heard someone call out her name, Cassian wasn't sure she would come forward. In fact, it would probably get the opposite reaction in her and make her look for a way to hide.

After all, he and Nesta had taught her not to trust strangers.

He ran his hands through his hair, taking a deep breath.

How was he going to explain to Nesta that he couldn't find her anywhere?

How was he supposed to get out of that place if he wasn't holding his daughter?

***

Nesta had fainted.

The lady had been just in time to put an arm around her waist when her legs had given out under her weight. She had closed her eyes for a second and then found herself lying on a bench, while someone pulled her legs up to get the blood flowing to her head, surrounded by curious and worried people.

"Nora..." she murmured, trying to find out something about the situation.

She wasn't crying, but she could feel the tears sliding down her temples.

Fuck the heat, fuck the low blood pressure.

She needed to find her daughter.

She had pulled herself up to her seat, despite the protests of the people around her, and resumed wandering around the park, screaming Nora's name as loudly as she could. It was as if the whole world was looking for her now. She could also hear the voices of others saying the name again and again and again.

She felt her legs weak and her knees wobble beneath her, ready to buckle from exhaustion, ready to give way one more time when she heard it.

"Mom!"

Nesta's head snapped in the direction of the sound, perhaps too quickly as she couldn't focus on anything, but she had already begun to cry when her daughter's small, puny body collided against her legs, leaping into the air to be picked up. Nesta let herself fall to the ground, taking Nora's face in her hands and laughing through her tears, looking into her eyes, making sure she was okay and unharmed. She was crying too, but she didn't seem to be hurt.

She wrapped her arms around the little girl as she too cried and hid her face in her mother's neck. Nesta breathed heavily when a sob broke the crying, one hand went to caress the girl's head.

"Nora." she whispered, "Nora, Nora, Nora-" she repeated over and over.

Her daughter's hands tightened around Nesta's shirt and she didn't care about anything else but the fact that Nora was okay. She was safe.

"Oh thank god." she heard someone say and then a loud thud, before arms wrapped around both of them and Cassian's sobs of relief and exhaustion from the dread they had shared so far joined theirs.

Nesta pulled away just enough so her husband could see that Nora was intact and when the little girl saw her father, a sound that Nesta wished she never heard again in her life made its way between them, produced by her daughter, "Dad!"

A huge smile spread across his face and Nesta laughed amidst tears, "Potato," he called before Nora launched herself onto him and wrapped her little arms around his neck. Cassian's hands left their place on Nesta's back and tightened on Nora.

"It's okay honey," she whispered, resting her forehead against Nora's back, "you found us." she continued when she heard her daughter sobbing louder.

She met Cassian's gaze over Nora's shoulder and smiled at him, letting go a sigh of relief and closing her eyes.

They stayed cuddled on that lawn until Nora stopped sobbing so hard that it seemed impossible to speak and each sob was like a stab to the heart. Nesta and Cassian had spent an hour looking for her, terrified that someone had kidnapped her, but Nora must have thought they had abandoned her, left her behind.

At the mere thought that she was the cause of the heartbreaking cry that was shaking her daughter, Nesta pulled Nora's arms away from Cassian's body and brought her to her chest, cradling her as she told her how much she loved her and how worried she had been. Then, to play it down a bit, she added chuckling, "Mom even fainted at one point, you know?" Nora's eyes had looked up at her at that point, "I fell straight down on the floor and some gentlemen had to lift my legs-"

She was interrupted by Cassian, "You what?"

She looked up at him, smiling wearily, and he seemed to realize how white she actually was just then. Cassian dropped his head forward, bringing a hand over his eyes, "Sorry I didn't notice, I was thinking about Nora-"

Nesta put a hand on his shoulder, "I'm fine." she told him, then looked at Nora again, "I'm fine." she repeated more slowly, moving a strand of hair from the little girl's forehead and smiling at her.

She felt Cassian's gaze on her, trying to figure out if she was actually okay, if she was going to pass out at any moment, but she didn't care. Nora was in her arms and breathing and intact and she didn't care about anything else.

The lady who had helped her had brought them a small bottle of water and now Nesta was sitting Nora down so she could drink.

"Easy there." Cassian had told her seeing how she had stuck to the bottle. It had hurt them both to see how quickly she had finished half the water.

That wasn't thirst, that was fear.

Nora hadn't said anything yet, but they knew it was only because she was in shock.

They had thanked everyone who had helped look for her and then turned back toward the exit, Nora in Cassian's arms, her head resting on her father's shoulder and her arms dangling at her sides as she slept worn out with emotion.

When Celia saw them coming she broke away from the group, starting to run towards them and shouting Nora's name, but Nesta brought a finger to her mouth and she froze dead in her tracks, but she was smiling. As were the other three for that matter.

Cassian could see the remnants of a cry on Andra's face and felt guilty for leaving them alone in the sun for so long without returning to them from time to time. He saw Ezra close his eyes and sigh with relief more than once and put Andra down, who along with Cal ran to their parents. Ezra sat down on a bench, bringing his hands to his face.

"Nora's resting now, okay?" pointed out Nesta to her three children. They all nodded frantically. "So let's not make too much noise."

"Mom and I thought we'd go back to the hotel, at least for a few hours," Cassian continued, keeping his gaze fixed on his oldest son, who still kept his elbows on his knees and his face hidden in his hands, "Then when she wakes up, after we've all eaten, we''ll see if we can go to the beach for a few hours, sounds like the plan?" Andra let out an excited squeal and Celia shushed her, Cal simply nodded, but he still looked worried about Nora.

Nesta smiled at him and lowered herself to their height. As if she had been a magnet, the three children immediately reached out, touching her in some way: one hand on her shoulder, one on her knee, one on her hand. Cassian stepped back.

"Nora's fine, I mean it," she squeezed Cal's tiny hand. "Sorry we were gone so long, but we couldn't find her," she explained to them, "We went all over the park, made new friends, talked to the park guards. I even fainted from the heat, ouch." she brought a hand to her forehead, imitating the fainting gesture, to make them laugh. It only worked with Andra. "But we're all fine, we're all here."

Nesta smiled, "One, Ezra." she said, "Two?"

"Cal." said the person directly concerned.

"Three?"

"Nora." said the girls.

"Four?" asked Andra.

"Celia." replied her sister, "And five?"

"Me!" squealed the youngest.

"That's right, you're five and you're all here," said Nesta, "You do know we didn't want to leave you alone here?" she asked, hesitant to introduce the subject. Three little heads nodded in confusion. "Dad and I would have reacted exactly the same way for all of you," she continued, "And we're sorry if we scared you acting like that, but we were scared too," she explained, stiffening her back and watching each of her children's reaction carefully, "If you feel that you're scared or stressed or want to cry because it seems like too much, you can do that. Mom and Dad cried, too." Celia opened her eyes wide, mouthing a dad and shifting her gaze to her father.

Cassian was much more emotional than Nesta, actually, but he tried never to do it in front of his kids because he knew it made them restless and sad. It had only happened a few times and Cassian still hadn't forgiven himself for making his kids worry like that, but that didn't mean they didn't teach them to express their feelings openly.

"These are stressful situations for everyone, so we understand if you need to release some frustration." Nesta smiled at them. Then an idea occurred to her, "How about when we get back to the beach tonight or tomorrow morning, we scream under the water so loud that we scare the little fish?"

Celia and Cal nodded again with excitement. Andra frowned, "I don't want to scare them."

Nesta stroked her face, "Then you'll sing to them and scream just a little bit loud. So we can let go of some of the stress of this horrible day, hmm?"

They all seemed to agree.

"Can we get pizza when we get to the hotel?" asked Celia with a strange glint in her eye. The little girl knew perfectly well when to ask for certain things. She knew full well when Nesta wouldn't be able to resist giving her kids everything they wanted without batting an eye.

Nesta nodded.

The children suddenly rejoiced and began to do a little dance that had been a tradition for more than seven years now. Something little Cal and the still child Ezra had invented when theirs sisters weren't even an idea.

Smiling, Nesta pulled herself up to her feet again, "Come on let's go to Dada."

***

"Ezra." murmured Cassian.

His son's head snapped toward him and he frowned. Cassian contracted his jaw.

"How is she?" asked Ezra in a raspy voice. Realizing this, he cleared his throat and pulled himself up to sit with his back straight, looking away from the approaching duo.

Cassian watched him closely, "She's fine, she got really scared and her mom found her crying, but she's fine." then he sat down next to him, being careful not to bend Nora's legs. Ezra bent down to his little sister, stroking her forehead, as Nesta had done only a few minutes before. "How are you?"

"Fine," his son replied too quickly, "why? How am I supposed to be?" he asked, snickering nervously.

Cassian was tired. So tired that if it wasn't for the fact that he had to take everyone to the hotel, he would have fallen asleep on the first free bench and slept for days, but he had to make sure his son was okay.

"Because we left you alone with the other three and it's not a small thing. Thank you for doing this." said Cassian to him, looking at the wedding band on his finger and playing with the ring, trying not to make the other uncomfortable.

Ezra shrugged, "I do it all the time, it's no big deal."

"That doesn't make the task any easier," his father murmured. "In fact, the fact that you do it every day is admirable and I'm sure without you, Mom and I wouldn't survive half a day," he chuckled. Ezra smiled wearily.

"How are you?" he tried again.

The boy seemed to really think about it, "I was afraid something bad had happened to her, but I couldn't do anything about it and I couldn't talk to the others about it because they're still too young and I'm sure a riot would have erupted if I said even half the stuff I was thinking," Ezra confessed in one breath. Cassian was about to respond, but his son continued, "And then Andra started crying and Celia was hungry and I didn't know what to do because she didn't like the stuff at the food trucks, but I couldn't get out of the park because if Nora came by, I'd lose her and-" he took a deep breath and looked toward Cassian, "You know?"

Cassian wished he didn't know. He wished his son didn't have to take those things into account. He wished he and Nesta didn't have to lean on him so much.

"Yes, I know," he murmured. Then he looked into his eyes, "I know your mom has been telling you this since you were born, Ezra, but if you want to cry because it all gets to be too much, no one is going to make fun of you or tell you to man up. You know it's all bullshit." said Cassian, turning slightly towards him, "Andra and Celia don't know how to talk about their emotions yet because they're too little, same with Cal and Nora and they cry to make us understand they're feeling too much. Just because you can release some of the tension by talking about it, doesn't mean it has to be just that way."

"I know," Ezra nodded, "I know," he said more softly. Then he ran a hand over his face, "Although I'd rather you didn't give me these heart-to-hearts in the middle of so many people."

Cassian chuckled, already feeling lighter upon hearing that Ezra had started joking again. He just had to make sure his son knew one last thing.

"Maybe not in situations like this, because we really needed you today," he said sincerely, "But when we're home and Mom and I want to take a night off and ask you to babysit, if you're not up for it or even just don't feel like it for one night, tell us and we'll figure something else out or we'll go out another time." Cassian watched as his other children danced in front of Nesta and smiled, "We would never want you to feel forced to parent."

"Yeah yeah, I know," Ezra chuckled, "all that talk about me being a son too and not having the same responsibilities as you as a sibling." he turned a relieved look to his father, "Mom reminds me enough that I know her speech better than happy birthday."

Cassian burst out laughing at Ezra's exasperated tone and when Nesta and the others stopped in front of them they were all smiling. Nesta leaned forward over her oldest son kissed his forehead, "Thank you, love."

Ezra nodded just once, a tight smile on his lips.

"Can we please go now?" sighed Cal. Celia nodded beside him, ever the one to agree with her brother.

Cassian pulled himself up with a grunt and then Ezra, who took Andra's hand and held it tightly as if afraid she might disappear at any moment.

"Are you going to sing or yell at the fish?" asked the little girl as they crossed the street.

"What?" asked her brother laughing.

"Do you sing like me or yell with mom?" she demanded without giving any context yet again.

Ezra shifted his gaze to his father and Cassian looked as confused as he was, so he looked at his mom, who was laughing under her breath.

"Mom?"

"I may have promised them that we would scream underwater to release some of the extra steam," she explained.

Cassian chuckled, shaking his head, "Sure, all normal."

Ezra shifted his attention to Andra, "I think I'll sing with you." he replied, smiling.

Eyes as light as his locked on his face and then a lighthearted laugh made its way between the two and Ezra couldn't help but laugh along with his sister, picking her up and spinning her around in the air.

Nesta counted her children one last time before getting into the car and when she got inside, she leaned her head back against the seat, sighing. Cassian mimicked her and then leaned toward her, Nesta turning just in time for their lips to collide.

A roar of disgust and embarrassed giggles erupted from the backseat, and Nesta thought she'd never heard such a beautiful sound while still smiling at her husband.

acotar tag list (if you wanna be added or removed just dm me or send an ask)

@sjm-things @kris10maas @awesomelena555 @sannelovesreading @queenamydien29 @ireallyshouldsleeprn @messyhairday-me @ncssian @observationanxioustheorist @my-fan-side @booksstorm @maastrash @sayosdreams @thedarkdemigod @courtofjurdan @thewayshedreamed @ladywitchling @nahthanks @archeron-queen @sleeping-and-books @bri-loves-sunflowers @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @queenestarcheron @oop-theregoesgravity @perseusannabeth

#nessian #nessian fic #acotar fic #acosf #nessian children #acotar next gen #nesta archeron #cassian #nestaxcassian #cassianxnesta #nesta #acomaf #acowar #acofas #a court of silver flames #nessian ff #TSOU #the seven of us

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chiafett-moved · 3 years

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Using all the clones from ur high school au, what kind of civ clothing do you think they'd wear?

Okay okay okay I took some time and went to TOWN on this one so clone clothes below the cut

Fox:

First and foremost, Fox has his own pinterest board. There’s not much in the way of clothes there, but yeah.

Lots of red and black

Hoodies and jeans. Jeans and hoodies. Hoodies and Jeans

If you saw the shape of my body No You Didn’t 😁

Someone help him

Always dressed as though it’s approximately 20C. Sort of like a comic character who wears variations of the same outfit.

For someone who hates being perceived, he does wear some tight clothes

Overall, sort of unintentionally punk/emo and tired

Lip, tongue, and ear piercings

Hunter:

Also has two pinterest boards (butch AU and normal)

Cottagecore farmer. Lots of neutral tones and loose, soft fabrics

Loves knit things

Very picky about texture and fit. If it’s tight, it gets donated

Wears things until they fall apart. This does not take long

Soft, waterproof, ankle-high hiking boots that he wears everywhere

L a y e r s

Constantly putting his hair up or taking it down

Very concerned with taking care of his curls (and for good reason; they’re gorgeous)

Farmer’s tan n freckles

Tech:

Business casual some days, absolute trash others. There is no rhyme or reason.

If Hunter’s all about consistency, Tech is the opposite (autism vs ADHD in a nutshell lmfao)

Pockets are a must

He has a messenger bag a la Spencer Reid

Big ol’ glasses with a thick enough lens that you can see behind him if you look at the right angle

Converse

Has these awful graphic tees from the time he went to Goodwill with Hunter

Wrecker:

Big comfy sweaters like those ones they sell at Old Navy

Walking hug with steel-toed boots

He has trouble finding XXL Tall clothes that aren’t Barbecue Dad™ so he takes what he can get

Rips the knees of pants first

Rips the tags out of everything

Cannot match colors to save his life and hasn’t yet figured out the Hunter tactic of just owning neutral things

He has a lot of fun hats

Carhartt short sleeve shirts and jeans with sharpie and paint on them

If he can’t move in it, he doesn’t want it

Big fan of open short-sleeve button downs over tees

Constantly asking Tech to hold things for him (they get lost in the Bottomless Messenger Bag)

Crosshair:

Typical teenage boy with a side of edgy

You know those joggers with the puffy knees or the cargo pockets? Big wearer of those

Sneaker Snob

Once he dressed up for a school event and he looked so good but pretended not to notice

Big City Gay energy

Constantly has a pack of cigarettes on him, so he’s got to have a pocket for them. He’s got to have a pocket, right? I just can’t see it from here. There must be a pocket because otherwise where is he getting those he’s pulling them out of nowhere send reinforcements—

Steals Hunter’s worn-out, oversized flannels but he’s a tall bitch so they’re pretty normal on him. How is he making them look so edgy?

Dogma:

Wears the same outfit a concerning amount. Like, you don’t notice anything and then all the sudden he’s been wearing the same thing for two weeks. Doesn’t smell bad or anything, though, so ?????

Always put together, but in that way that’s kind of fraying around the edges

I don’t really know how to describe his clothes beyond a sort of vibe? Idk

He’s a really skinny guy and he loves clothes with angular shapes and hard edges, so he kind of looks like a stick figure with really cool geometric designs

He tries to look sort of formal and aloof, but it doesn’t work

His Manic Art Kid vibe is visible from space, though

He looks cute but in a freshman kind of way. Like, “aww, look at him!”

But also radiates the kind of energy that makes people highly concerned

Many ear piercings and one eyebrow piercing

Tall gangly and intimidating

Always carrying his backpack

Tup:

Basically Dogma but with softer edges and rounder shapes

The Ridiculously Well-Adjusted Art Kid

Always has paint somewhere

Looks like a mess but makes it work

Messy buns

Big fan of overalls and colorful shirts

Likes long sleeves

Converse out the ass, but in a ton of different colors

Big sweaters

People forget he’s tall and Stronk because the way he dresses makes him look small (oversized things do that)

Got his ears pierced when Dogma got his third helix, but let them close

Stacked bracelets

Echo:

Somehow soft punk meets varsity kid? He makes it work

Khaki pants but cool

Open zip-up hoodies and comfy, well-fitting tee shirts

Sneakers only, unless he has to be fancy

Sometimes wears fingerless gloves and refuses to explain why

Undercut

No I lied sometimes he wears stompy boots just because they’re at odds with the rest of his aesthetic

Basically big calm comfy vibes without looking sloppy or informal

Will wear button downs as normal shirts with jeans

Likes to do the graphic tee over thermal shirt thing

Joggers

SKATER BOY. That’s the word I was thinking of. Soft skater boy (he and Fives both skate)

Fives:

Band tees and jeans

Not a fan of shorts. Has anyone ever seen his legs?

Constantly has this big-ass set of headphones around his neck

Beanies

Also a graphic tee and thermal shirt layerer

Rarely not wearing jeans

Sometimes wears pajamas to school specifically to piss off teachers

Snapbacks

Paints his nails a variety of colors, but mostly black. Somehow the polish is always chipped

Big wearer of Vans, actually is a skater

Tears through the elbows of his jeans jackets falling

Cody:

Gay smart kid. Debate team captain. Soccer captain. Looks better than you. Looks better than the teachers. Could kill you.

He wears a lot of half-zips and khakis, but makes it look less nerdy than usual

Sports paraphernalia helps. Hard to look nerdy when the zip-up you’re wearing is from wrestling Nationals

When he wears tee-shirts, they’re always tight? Does he buy them a size small on purpose? (yes, yes he does)

Collector of those really nice zip-up hoodies with the geometric designs that make them look really nice and neat

Actually wears sunglasses when it’s sunny

Has never been seen in a hat

Neyo:

Oh god oh fuck DIY punk? He’s oh god he’s

Neyo my dear that sweatshirt is falling apart

Neyo is. Troubled and in a Bad home. His clothing choices reflect this.

He does not want to touch or be touched and he wants to look cool doing it

Stoner kid but Spiky

And also he doesn’t actually smoke

Wears combat boots that look like they’ve seen blood

Skinny jeans bc he’s edgy and cool

Patch pants/vest

Also has a pinterest board

Bacara:

Bland depressed kid. Jeans and dark hoodies

Seriously he’s just trying to vibe. He wants to be comfy and he doesn’t want to draw a ton of attention

Black converse

Constantly has a farmer’s tan

Not a fan of short sleeves

Thinks Neyo looks ridiculous

Has never been dress coded in his life

Seriously Bacara’s idea of spicing up an outfit is wearing like. A polo.

#anon #ask tag #bacara #neyo #tech #wrecker #echo #fives #hunter #crosshair #cody #dogma #tup #fox #star wars #my headcanons #mikey's headcanons #high school au

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uwua3 · 4 years

Note

Hello! Sunflowers hold a really special meaning for me so when i read the "sunflower dreams" My heart was so happy!! I havent felt this happy in a long time since quarantine started so thank you for taking the time to write it! It really made my day. If i could request a kazunari x reader where they're both artists that would be amazing. Maybe the reader can be a famous anonymous art influencer? Its up to you! Again thank you so much for writing "sunflower dreams" 💜

i’m so happy i could make you smile ‧⁺◟( ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ ·̫ ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥̀ ) it’s messages like these that absolutely make my day! thank you so much for taking your time to even read it, i’m glad to know it touched your heart ♡ i hope you have a good rest of your day—please know all of a3! love you vvv much!!! ｀･ω･)9 i hope this makes your heart happy just like before! thank you, anon, for everything

summary: every time you fell in love, you made a new art piece

author’s note: please smile from this absolutely soft and endearing kazunari fluff! in times like these where negativity is all around us, it’s good to take a break and purposely give yourself happiness. i hope this is a light in your day and makes you experience all the goodness of love! ♡ — concept based on “to all the boys i’ve loved before”

word count: 3,389

music: i like me better – lauv

to everyone i’ve loved before.

🌻🎨 miyoshi kazunari

you created art every time you had a crush so intense, you didn’t know what else to do

no matter how big or small it was, or how long or short it lasted, love is love. even if it was a random stranger you’d never see again or someone you knew for a lifetime, love is love

therefore, there was no exact total. because even if you didn’t remember every single person you’ve made art for, you clearly remembered what it was like experiencing the euphoria of love. the phenomenon of your heart selflessly beating for someone else. the attack of getting hit by cupid’s arrow out of no where. the rush of emotions unlike any other

love was everywhere and you made sure to create something that was a memory of it. that was when you decided to practice art after being unable to recall a person’s face a moment too long

it was your form of a love letter. a picture spoke a thousand words you couldn’t write, and art was the perfect way to convey that. online for everyone to see were your love letters in art form: portraits of everyone you’ve loved

you fell in love again and again, a new art piece posted soon over the years of your life. under the username, to-everyone-ive-loved, a lifelong project was in the works for all of social media to see

unknown to the rest of the world, you were the artist behind the blog “to-everyone-ive-loved” who created portraits from memory

but, you didn’t mean to fall in love with another artist as well

all it took was one comment and you were theirs

it was one of your most recent posts, a finished piece on a stranger you saw. you found yourself in veludo way, the ideal street to find people you’d never forget. after witnessing a sudden street act, only one actor caught your eye that day

you didn’t know his name, but you didn’t need to. you were in love

you immediately rushed home without a second thought, the inspiration and creativity infectious after watching him perform. something about his energy was wildly entertaining and bizarre, like a modern pop song as a person. he was effortlessly trendy, popular, and charismatic just from the few minutes you saw him

the moment he stood up on that street corner like it was a stage, all eyes were on him and he knew it. as you sketched into the day, you remembered the small details clearly. dirty blonde hair with no dark roots in sight, glittering green eyes, wide welcoming smile. he had the face of an actor, that’s for sure

when you posted it right after finishing, you didn’t expect any major attention. on average, your posts got 100 likes or so. while it was an impressive feat, nothing could’ve prepared you for that one comment

kaz-PIKO: i’m in love with your art ♡

as your popularity and fame grew before your very eyes, you clicked on his profile and realized it was him. the actor you had seen earlier at veludo way

you didn’t know what happened, but all you knew was you couldn’t forget this one person, miyoshi kazunari, no matter how hard you tried

no matter where you went, you couldn’t draw anyone else except that boy named kazunari. after scrolling through his entire instablam account, you found out he was an actor for mankai company’s summer troupe. he was a star in his own right, with a stage presence like the spotlight was constantly on him and a heart of gold

this was the first time you ever got so caught up on someone that they didn’t leave your mind. hours became days, and days began becoming a week before you let yourself follow him back

everyone you had ever drawn had never recognized themselves before. it was all because a follower connected the visual similarities between your art and kazunari’s unique traits that kazunari knew you had seen him before

if only he wasn’t a social media influencer with followers reaching the hundreds of thousands. at least, his popularity attracted attention to your profile...

this was a problem, however. because if you couldn’t draw anyone else, what could you do? once again, you stalked kazunari’s blog once again like it was a habit

it was never really a rule to make one love letter per person, but you never had wanted to make another for the same person. until, now

video after video. picture after picture. story after story. you could see kazunari’s face even when you closed your eyes. what about him made you daydream about him constantly? was it his charming voice that could make anyone stop and stare? his intricate piercings that were different every day? his ability to make you feel at home? whatever it was (or maybe it was an accumulation of everything and more), you had to draw kazunari again

when you posted it, you typically didn’t add more to the caption than the date and time. except this time, you felt like all your rules were being broken over someone who had no idea who you were

to-everyone-ive-loved-before: XX/XX/20 (3:33 A.M.) — social butterfly

you watched it upload. it was a piece you had never done before. glowing butterflies of all colors surrounded the center of the masterpiece, a smiling kazunari

hopefully, this would solve whatever feelings you were having and the world would go back to normal. you’d move on, fall in love with someone else, and repeat

it didn’t work, because some time later, you woke up to a comment that made you feel the butterflies in your stomach

kaz-PIKO: like a butterfly, i’ll fly to you, wherever you are~ ☆

and for some reason, you wanted kazunari to find you

you had never felt so motivated to draw before. however, your muse was the same. a beautiful boy named miyoshi kazunari who was slowly capturing your heart without even knowing it. you watched the pages in your sketchbook lessen and lessen. the corners of assignments and napkins and anything in between was covered in doodles. if there was a writing instrument in your hand, something related to kazunari would come out of it

it was a fascination. a fixiation, even. you had only seen one performance before falling in love. was it because kazunari responded that it made you feel like you had a chance?

you wouldn’t admit it, but it was becoming embarrassing with how much you were staring at the few unread messages from kazunari in your dm box. they came in right after you had followed him back, and more arrived when you posted the “social butterfly” piece

what was stopping you from talking to your muse? you knew the answer without thinking: what if these feelings were real?

obsessions and crushes come and go, but... love, love stayed. there wasn’t any possibility you could love someone from afar without knowing anything about them, right?

but, then again... you did know some things about kazunari. you knew kazunari was the best actor of all time, with expressions and gestures the equivalent of art. kazunari was art—in every single way possible. everything about him made you want to draw and draw and draw

you only drew kazunari for a certain time, no matter which stranger crossed your path. people you knew you would’ve sketched simply became passer-bys, and it was all because of kazunari’s sunny smile that you were in love. or, what you thought was love

the more you thought about kazunari’s unread dms, the more you wondered what this was. why did kazunari make you so happy? was this truly the first time you were experiencing... a crush?!

for the first time since that street act, you found yourself in veludo way. while half of you was hoping you’d randomly bump into summer troupe’s moodmaker, the other half was petrified about how kazunari was a real person. a very much popular, recognizable person

it was the weekend, and the burden of university projects was telling you to go back and focus. yet, with a sketchbook in one hand and a pencil tucked behind your ear, you were very much prepared to draw to your heart’s content

as you tried to flip to a clean page, you heard something that made your heart flutter. despite the noise and busy atmosphere of veludo, a distinct laugh was audible above the crowd. when you looked up, your eyes barely registered a deep blue jacket before walking straight into the person

you nearly tumbled to the ground before two hands steadied you, a surprised “whoa!” leaving their mouth before being followed by a gentle laugh. the usual embarrassment didn’t set in until you went to go thank the person, only to stop

oh my god. you had just bumped into miyoshi kazunari, your muse for the past month or so

kazunari grinned, even though it faltered slightly at your wide-eyed expression and awkward silence. he didn’t seem to mind as he adjusted his black top hat, pocketing his phone and confidently meeting your gaze

“i’m so sorry~! i hope you’re okay, i’m kazunari!” kazunari introduced and you realized he didn’t know you were behind to-everyone-ive-loved-before. you quickly adjusted yourself, pretending as if this wasn’t the highlight of your entire week

when you introduced yourself, kazunari’s eyes sparkled with interest as he easily led you into conversation. despite being a bit of a socially awkward artist who preferred being alone over anything else, kazunari was... comfortable. you didn’t feel self-conscious of how you acted, because he readily accepted how you were with a smile

was he like this was everyone or... did he find you to be a work of art, too?

standing off to the side, you finally noticed several members of mankai were advertising their latest play. bright, aesthetically pleasing flyers were being handed out to everyone walking by, and you seemed to look a moment too long before kazunari followed your gaze and suddenly snapped his fingers

“oh! are you interested in theatre?” you really weren’t, but you nodded anyways just to see kazunari’s excitement. he pardoned himself for a moment just to snatch a flyer, returning to show it off with a proud smile

“please come to mankai company’s summer performance!” kazunari’s smile sparkled and before he looked around to see if anyone was watching, he winked. kazunari covered the side of his face that was facing his troupe members, pretending as if you two were sharing some big secret

“plus, i’ll be there. if you come, i’ll make sure to do my very best~” kazunari bargained, even though you already knew he was already planning on wowing the audience with his charisma. you took in his genuine want to impress you and the butterflies came back

“i’ll come.” you agreed without even checking the date or reading anything. now all of you just wanted more & more opportunities as the person kazunari was surprisingly interested in, not as the artist who was basically in love with him

agreeing right away was worth it when kazunari shot you a grateful, blinding smile in return. you stumbled over your words with how taken back you were, but asked anyways, “do you like flowers?”

kazunari’s eyes softened for a moment, his usual energy suddenly gone before returning. he seemed genuinely moved by your question, and you wondered how many flowers it’d take to see him smile again like that

“i do, especially if they’re from you.”

“what kind?”

someone called kazunari’s name, insisting they were going to be late for practice. kazunari shouted back an agreement by telling them to go ahead first, before putting all his attention on you once again

“hibiscus.” meaning delicate beauty

before kazunari could ask for your socials, with his hand already reaching for his phone, you cut him off, hoping your voice wasn’t off

“next week. 7 P.M., mankai theatre. i’ll be there, front row.” you promised and took off, rushing off with a wave as kazunari stared after you for a second before waving back enthusiastically

as you left, kazunari was about to leave before he noticed something on the ground. it was a plain sketchbook, unassuming at first but it was nearly bursting at the binding with how many pages there were

when kazunari picked it up, he was about to flip to the first page before mankai called his name again, impatient this time. kazunari held onto the book and sent one last glance towards your direction before disappearing, hurrying to make sure the director wouldn’t penalize him for being the reason everyone was late

when you arrived home, you instinctually reached for the pencil behind your ear. at the same time, you put your hand in your bag, attempting to feel the familiar edges of your sketchbook

then, after turning your bag inside out and finding nothing, you collapsed onto your desk chair with shock and disbelief

you lost your sketchbook in veludo way the moment you met kazunari. what if he had it?

you drew another piece and stared at your screen, wondering if you should post it. it was kazunari once again with a yellow hibiscus flower behind his ear, the same gentle smile you couldn’t perfectly capture gracing his lips

you typed the caption and backspaced before settling on something that only you and him would know

to-everyone-ive-loved-before: XX/XX/20 (8:01 P.M.) — delicate beauty

you hesitated before deleting the post a second after. maybe, you’d keep some artwork to yourself

kazunari had the sketchbook open next to his bedside, his phone in his hands and your profile open. he could recognize your art style a mile away, and the moment he saw the first sketch after practice, he couldn’t believe it

did this explain why he felt such a natural attraction to you? when you bumped into him, kazunari swore he could see the sparks flying. you made him feel like he was falling in love and you only proved him right when you two talked earlier. he wanted to know everything about you, he wanted to see you again

was this what love at first sight felt like? kazunari giddily typed a message over and over again, the unread messages of his filling his screen

kaz-PIKO: heya!! ★>d(,,･ε´-,,)⌒☆ just wanted to say i LOVE your art fr!!! we should totes collab, you know???

kaz-PIKO: thanks for drawing me btw :0 does this mean you live near veludo? let’s meet up!!!

kaz-PIKO: ,,, i don’t usually say this but, that social butterfly piece was breathtaking. you must really like me, huh? (･ω<)☆ jk haha

kaz-PIKO: no but really, it’s beautiful. thank you, honestly. it made my day, you make me happy ♡

kaz-PIKO: you must be really beautiful, too. i would want to draw you as well. lmk if ur up for that haha

kazunari read back his previous messages, all of them delivered but unopened. he realized how... how open he already was with the anonymous faceless artist, despite never interacting with them

now that he knew what you looked like, it only reassured his intuition that he was rightfully head over heels for you

kazunari typed something before deleting it, closing out of instablam and throwing his phone somewhere on his bed

kaz-PIKO: i was right, you are beautiful. i may have fallen in love, too

some things were better left unsaid. after all, you two had until next week to figure everything out

for the rest of the week, all you and kazunari did were think about the other person. a small part of you was afraid kazunari wasn’t the dream boy you imagined, but he was much more. you noticed he started posting more often and turned his notifications, wanting to be one of the first to see his practice videos and university selfies

you didn’t post any of the art you made of kazunari, making it the longest you hadn’t posted ever. kazunari couldn’t help but refresh your account every now and then, hoping he’d see his face again, as selfish as it was. kazunari wouldn’t know how’d he feel if he saw someone else had your heart

the longer time went on, the more you were certain. every fascination you had with someone was temporary, and you remembered the feeling rather than the person. but, with kazunari, you liked him for who he was. everything kazunari made you feel was new and exciting, but even when that went away, you still liked him

kazunari was your first crush, for real

kazunari liked making people like him. so, your online confession through art wasn’t exactly a surprise. but, yours was different. it was earnest, honest, and everything he didn’t know he was needing

kazunari looked through your sketchbook again and again, tracing over the notes you wrote in the margins and admiring your skill

kazunari liked you, and he was certain he would’ve still liked you even if you weren’t to-everyone-ive-loved-before

when showtime arrived, kazunari was oddly nervous. peeking from behind the red curtain, kazunari could already see you were one of the first sitting front row, just like you said. he had practiced his lines a thousand times and summer was fully prepared, why was he nervous?

before he went on, kazunari ignored the urgency of the mankai staff and quickly texted a message to your profile, hoping you’d at least see the notification this time

kaz-PIKO: i like you, too

(when you felt your phone buzz, you quickly silenced it)

the show moved you to a standing ovation, just like everyone else in the audience. as summer walked out to bow and express their gratitude, you watched kazunari’s eyes search for yours as he tilted his head towards backstage. you nodded, knowing you’d do anything to see this kazunari. actor kazunari, who was on cloud 9 with his performance and glowing from praise

you wanted to see, to experience, to draw, all versions of kazunari

after the applause, you looked around backstage before feeling a hand on your arm, the feeling reminiscent of the first time you bumped into kazunari

“you came.” kazunari breathlessly stated, as if he was surprised. before he could say anything else, you presented him with a bouquet of hibiscus flowers. the same shade of yellow you drew him with

“of course, i wanted to see you again.” you honestly admitted, knowing it made you flustered. kazunari carefully took the flowers before grinning, gently placing then beneath his chin. he looked like a vision, you wish you could’ve asked him to stand still so you could capture this moment forever

“i wanted to see you, too.” kazunari softly said, all the energy of being on stage gone. it was tranquil and peaceful, like you two were the only people in the entire theatre

kazunari took a moment to admire you before realizing something, taking something from behind him and presenting it to you. it was your sketchbook on the bottom, but a smaller version was on top of it, signed in silver sharpie. kazunari’s signature was glittering like his eyes as you took it

“next time, let’s draw together.”

kazunari’s sketchbook was filled with you. anything from small doodles to encouraging messages was found inside, with tens of post-it notes of just thoughts about you. kazunari’s art was colorful and extremely out of the box compared to his usual traditional style. it made you smile

kazunari watched you flip through it, already knowing this was the greatest act of love he could’ve declared this early on. he anticipated for you to reach the end

when you landed on the last page, you saw a note

do you want go on a date with me?

“next time, respond to my dms! that way i don’t have to write everything~!” kazunari teased and you two shared a laugh, knowing everything was going to be okay

“yes.”

“yes...?”

“yes, i’ll respond to your dms. and yes, i’ll go on a date with you.”

eventually, you ended up closing your blog for good. your last post was a picture of you and kazunari, with one caption

to-everyone-ive-loved-before: XX/XX/20 (3:33 P.M.) — to the one boy i love now, i love you

kaz-PIKO: i love you, too ♡

#miyoshi kazunari #kazunari miyoshi #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#act! addict! actors!#a3! actor training game #a3! headcanons #act! addict! actors! headcanons #mankai a3!#mankai company #a3! x reader #a3 x reader #kazunari x reader #a3! kazunari #a3 kazunari

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egcdeath · 4 years

Text

secret santa

pairing: ransom drysdale x f!reader

a/n: this is so self indulgent. SO SELF INDULGENT. more self indulgent than anyone will ever be able to comprehend. before u all read this, i want u to know it was originally supposed to be about training ransom at a job, but then i realized that i nothing about 1. working at a coffee shop and 2. training an employee. also, i am the worst at writing dialogue. so i didn’t write a lot of dialogue LMAO enjoy :)

also, half of this was written at 1 am. just a warning

warnings: coffee shop au, enemies (kinda) to lovers, a lil fluff, not really angst but bitter feelings, kinda slow burn and then all the sudden a fast burn i’m sorry 😭

word count: 2.6k

You woke up to the sound of your alarm rumbling your bedside table sometime around the asscrack of dawn, and rubbed your eyes with a groan. Sometimes, you really couldn’t stand your job, but bills didn’t really pay themselves, did they? You rolled out of bed, and began your dreaded morning routine before heading out to start your opening shift at your local café.

Somewhere between warming up the espresso machine and taking out last night’s trash (which you shouldn’t have had to do in the first place), an older, yet expensive looking car pulled up to the front of the parking lot. You were a bit confused, as you’d never seen this vehicle, and it was quite clear that you weren’t exactly open yet. You watched as a tall man hopped out of the car, wearing a large peacoat and very unnecessary sunglasses. He approached the door, gave it a knock, then waited for you to come open it for him. Reluctantly, you made your way over, and in order to keep yourself safe, began to speak through the glass.

“Can I help you?” You asked in an annoyed tone, then gestured towards the piece of paper that labeled your hours on the door. There was no reason for any customer to be here this early. You looked up at the mystery man and made a rather intense eye contact with him. If this was any indicator of your crowd today, work was going to be far from pleasant.

“Yeah, I was told that I’m starting today?” He had a wicked smirk on his face, like he knew he was getting under your skin already. You hated people like him, and couldn’t believe that he could possibly be your coworker. On the bright side, he probably wouldn’t last long in the first place.

“Well, are you sure you’re here on time? I can’t see any situation where Melissa would schedule to open for your very first shift.” You commented with a furrowed brow.

“Eh, I kinda just figured I’d come in whenever. The girl in my bed was an early riser, so I thought to myself ‘Why not just come in now?’” He said casually.

“Your name?” You inquired, trying to keep your annoyance to yourself, and put on a customer service smile.

“Hugh, or Ransom,” he responded. You turned around, allowed yourself a huff and eye roll, then walked through the kitchen, and into the break room to check if he truly was a new employee, or just some random creep. Sure enough, a bright pink post-it note in very neat handwriting confirmed this man’s existence. You made your way back to the door, unlocked it, and let him in.

“Since you’re here, you should… set down the chairs,” you told him, less than entertained by his presence. You could just tell he was bad news. This Ransom guy was like the textbook definition of a red flag. He talked your ear off while you tried to get through your opening routine, some casual remarks about his last hookup, complaints about how he only got this job because his mother was a regular and good friends with your manager, and how he was threatened to get cut out of his grandfather’s will if he didn’t get employed soon, and what better way to spite your family than to mess up their daily coffees.

Eventually, a few more of your coworkers, along with your manager, Melissa, made it to the café before the morning rush began. You were sitting down at your typical barstool spot, and sipping an iced Americano when Melissa broke the news to you that you would be training the new employee. Upon hearing the news, you audibly groaned, and rubbed your forehead. There was no way that you could handle this man.

-------

During his first week, Ransom not only managed to offer (and successfully give) six customers his phone number, break two mugs, mess up more orders than even Euclid could comprehend, and spill straws a multitude of times all over the floor, but he began to flirt with you relentlessly. You had no idea why you’d become his new target of choice, when it was clear that he could have literally anyone he wanted. Maybe he liked that you were playing hard to get.

If you were being honest, you had to accept that he was handsome. And rich. And the definition of a fuckboy. And since you were being frank with yourself, you had to acknowledge that you were attracted to that ‘toxic and will treat you like shit’ kind of guy. You had a roster of ex boyfriends to prove that for you.

---

It was a pretty slow Tuesday afternoon, which meant you were sitting on your phone until a customer placed an order. Eventually, the little bell above the door chimed, and an older man came through, ordering a dark and bitter drink, then standing by the counter to wait. You began to restock lids while Ransom took care of making the drink, and once it was ready, you passed it over to the man. The man in question took a rather large sip, then promptly spat it out.

“What the fuck is this!” He roared, barely giving you time to react before he proceeded to toss the drink at you, spilling most of the hot content on your apron.

You gasped, gawking down at your scorched and ruined clothing, then up at the customer, who’d turned around with a huff and left, leaving a stream of strong language on his way out. You bit back tears at the whole fiasco, and cringed as both the steamy drink, and your salty tears stung different parts of your body. You turned to look at the barista, who had passed you along the drink, and were met with no other than the white devil himself. It seemed that all the blood had drained from his already otherwise pale face.

“Oh my god, this is all my fault,” he began remorsefully. “Let me make it up to you somehow.”

“Whatever,” you huffed, running a hand through your hair, and shoving Ransom angrily while you more or less stomped into the staff bathroom.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and frowned before bringing up your bundled apron to your face and screaming into it. Stupid fucking customers. Stupid fucking job. Stupid fucking Ransom. It’s like he came to your job just to make it hell. You were tired of cleaning up all these messes for him, and honestly, you wish he’d just quit already. The longer you worked with him, the more tempted you were to pour sugar in his gas tank, then take a club and break all the windows in the Beemer.

------

For the next month, your brain was completely elsewhere at work. Your brain was constantly going back and forth with you between finding Ransom hot and horrendous. While the pair of you finished up closing one night, you heard your coworker begin to speak to you as you placed your hand on the keys in your pocket.

“I know you hate me, Y/N. I get it. What that guy did to you was awful, and yes it was my fault, but what else have I done to hurt you?” He asked, seemingly out of the blue. You weren’t even sure how to respond. Ignoring the man and demonizing him in your head had become almost a second nature. “I mean, I think we could’ve been good friends. Even though you seem to think I’m devil incarnate, I think you’re a pretty cool chick-“ he continued before being cut off by you.

“Why do you even care?” you burst out, “Ransom, you just don’t get it do you? You’re just.. a douchebag. I get it, you have your moments where you’re candid and open with people, but half of the time you’re talking, you’re objectifying someone. Or bragging about something you own. Don’t get me wrong, I could get past what you did to me on accident, but you seriously have to work on yourself,” the words just seemed to pour out without your control. “Goodnight, Ransom,” you said simply before leaving the café for the night.

——

Since that day, the tension between you and Ransom had evidently become more thick. Since he was finally finished training with you, you made sure to only speak to him if you absolutely needed to, and even then, you only communicated with him in brief and straightforward answers. Sure, it seemed like a small thing to be upset about, and sure, he’d apologized, but something told you that any excuse to stay away from Ransom was a good excuse.

Though he appeared to be an immoral and selfish man, he seemed genuinely sorry for all that he’d put you through. Occasionally, you’d be sitting in the break room and look up from your phone to see him watching you. When you’d make eye contact, he would look like he wanted to say something to you, but your petty ass would leave, or look back at your phone. He was bad news anyway.

Your boss quickly caught onto what was going on between the two of you, and usually, Melissa didn’t like to participate in petty drama, but your new sour mood was such a stark contrast from before, and it seemed to shift the whole mood of the café.

That afternoon, Melissa called for a team meeting a bit before closing, and suggested a family dinner along with a Secret Santa. She’d said something along the lines of ‘It’s been way too long since we’ve done a team bonding activity, and a gift exchange is perfectly fitting for the Holiday season.’ This did make you perk up, as Melissa had a great taste in restaurants, and you were always down for a good gift exchange.

Melissa then told everyone to write their names down, then put them in a decorative Santa hat. You and your coworkers obliged, then began to pass around the hat once again in order to draw a name. You really hoped to get Xavier. You had the perfect idea of something he’d love. As you drew a piece of paper from the hat, you imagined the matching pair of fluffy socks for a human and dog that you’d passed by during your last trip to Target. You began to unfold it, thinking of what color he might like the most, when you looked down and saw ‘Ransom’ drawn out in chicken scratch.

You tried your best to mask your annoyance at who you received, but on the inside, you were seething. You mentally cursed the universe out while you pulled on your coat, and grimaced to yourself once you got out to your car. How were you supposed to get this asshole a gift?

—-

The week leading up to the exchange went fairly well for you, although it was getting a bit exhausting to be so mad at Ransom all the time. You tried to be less harsh with him, considering you needed to learn more about him in order to get him a somewhat decent gift for your exchange.

He’d seem to have taken your conversation with him to heart, and began to talk less and less about other girls when he was working with you. He didn’t comment on how well your jeans fit you, and you noticed that he’d often overextend himself in order to help you with (pretty basic) daily aspects of the job. Ransom would ask you questions about yourself, and your family, and speak less about himself. If you were honest with yourself, he was becoming a better man. And the best part was, he seemed to be doing it just for you. The thought of which brought heat to your face.

—

On the night of the exchange, you threw on a hideous and scratchy Christmas sweater before picking up your neatly wrapped gift for Ransom. You truly hoped that he’d like it, even though it certainly wasn’t the most expensive item. You bid farewell to your cat, then went on your way to the restaurant. You had to admit, you were a bit late. So it should’ve been no surprise when you arrived, and found that the only seat left at the table was next to Ransom. You gave him a cordial smile before sitting down and ordering yourself a glass of Merlot.

Something about being so close to him was kind of riling you up. The strong timbre sent coming off of him was making your whole body feel slightly warmer than normal, and you tried to ignore this strange sensation while you talked and joked with your coworkers. At one point, Ransom leaned in nice and close to you, and began to speak to you.

“Jesus Christ, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as hideous as Karmen’s sweatshirt,” he whispered right into the shell of your ear. Maybe it was the wine talking, but that simple action sent a whole chill through your body, and made you flush even harder than you’d flushed before. You let out a little giggle and nodded in agreement, looking across the table at her very ugly sweater.

“To be fair, the whole point of this was to wear something really ugly,” you turned your head back to where it was before, only to find that Ransom had somehow moved even closer to you.

“I just don’t know where you find something like that,” he commented, gazing much too deep into your eyes. You swore you felt the room shift after he began looking at you like that. There was about a 20% chance that you’d be able to keep your panties on after this kind of exchange. Luckily for you, a waitress broke the tension for you, setting down a few plates for everyone, then bidding them farewell. Damn.

The food was amazing, and didn’t last very long, meaning that it was time to pass gifts around sooner than later. You watched as Amy received a gift card from Sophie, Emily opened a plethora of chocolates gifted to her by Melissa, and Xander whiffed a candle given to him by Kennedy, then, it was your turn. You glanced around the table before you felt the arm next to you reach down, then hand you an oversized gift bag.

“I hope you like it,” Ransom said with a shy smile. You casually felt your cheeks on your way to pull out the very large item. You found it was a very large, and soft, hand knit blanket. It looked like it could’ve cost a small fortune, and you immediately found yourself embarrassed.

“Oh wow. This is perfect! Thank you so much,” you grinned over at your coworker, who seemed to be blushing himself. “Well, I guess I should probably give you this then,” you chuckled awkwardly before passing him your wrapped package. He tore it open barbarically, then began to laugh. Of all the gifts in the world, you two had gotten each other somewhat similar items. Sure, it wasn’t hand knit with the love of some grandma who ran a small business on Etsy, but it was the thought that counts.

“I love it, Y/N,” he exclaimed, looking deep into your eyes once again. He ran his fingers through the soft fabric, then set a hand on your arm. In that moment, it felt like time stopped. It was just you two, sitting in a quiet room, enjoying the presence of each other. You don’t even know what had gotten into you, but before you knew it, you felt a nose pressed up against yours, and a billion butterflies erupt out of your stomach. You heard a few grimaces from your coworkers at the sappy, Hallmark-like moment but what could you say.

Maybe Ransom was not that bad after all.

#ransom thrombey x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom drysdale x you #knives out fanfic #hey i wrote that lol

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spicycreativity · 3 years

Text

Intertwined - Chapter 6

Chapter: 6/8

Additional Notes: Fic published in full on my AO3, WizardGlick. This is my favorite chapter 😁

Chapter Content Warnings: Blood, respiratory distress

The record player was still in the kitchen, surrounded by puzzle pieces. Patton switched it on and watched the vinyl spin in a daze. He missed Roman's boastful chatter, missed Logan's even keel. Maybe he should just give up. They clearly didn't want him around, and at a certain point, maybe it was selfish to keep badgering them.

God, he was a mess. Virgil had been too tactful to say anything during last night's Ghost Adventures marathon, but he had kicked his feet up in Patton's lap, and that was telling. It wasn't the reassuring full-body contact he longed for, but Virgil had never been big on touch. He couldn't be what Patton needed, and that was fair. It wasn't Virgil's job to take care of Patton. It was no one's job.

Janus' voice sounded unbidden in his head, reminding him in a distinctly annoyed tone, ' It's your job.'

So Patton picked himself up off the kitchen island and opened the fridge. He liked the work of cooking and cleaning. The domesticity was reassuring and sweet and safe. He cooked and cleaned because he loved. He loved Logan, he loved Roman, he loved Virgil. He wanted to see them safe and fed and contented, free to fulfill their functions because Patton fulfilled his.

As he cracked eggs into a bowl, he wondered if he loved Janus. He probably did. How could he help it?

Janus' smile was a rare thing, and that much sweeter for it. And he was so clever, so self-assured, so determined to help. This whole time, that was what was driving him. He wanted to help Thomas the only way he could, and now he was helping Patton. Because… Because he was just good. Even if he, like Virgil before him, kept that light hidden behind walls of sarcasm and bitterness. Janus was good. And Patton loved him.

He had forgotten to turn on the stove. Patton smiled at himself, because what else could he do, and turned on the stove. As he stood there, anxiously eyeing his half-finished omelette, his fingers found their way to the friendship bracelets around his right wrist. He had two there, Logan's and Roman's. They were both made of soft embroidery floss. Roman's had a little charm, a small silver 'R' that sometimes caught the light and made Patton smile when he noticed it.

He and Janus should have friendship bracelets. It could go on his left wrist next to Virgil's. Virgil wouldn't be happy about it, but… But Patton wanted it. He wanted Janus to feel accepted and loved. And there was no way to do that and spare Virgil's feelings. There was just no winning and Patton wanted, wanted, wanted more than he'd ever wanted anything.. Would it really be so bad to indulge this?

After breakfast, Patton relocated to the living room and asked the mindscape's halls for Janus. Janus did not appear, but the fog of the subconscious at the edges of the walls solidified into a hallway. Patton got to his feet and started to walk. He had never really ventured into the space that Roman referred to as 'the Dark Side,' but there was really nothing foreboding about it. The halls were still well-lit, the carpet still plush beneath his feet.

Eventually, the hall opened up to a cozy little alcove. Janus was huddled up against the wall, staring into the depths of a pure black coffee mug. He flinched when he noticed Patton, then smiled.

It was a slow, unfurling thing: first sheepish, then courteous, and finally, genuine. It lit a fire in Patton's chest, made him feel like he was glowing.

"Patton." Janus tipped his hat, peering out coquettishly from under its brim.

"Sorry," said Patton, "am I interrupting?"

"Oh, yes," said Janus, getting to his feet, "I need to have my coffee in utter silence of the caffeine doesn't take."

He sounded a little hoarse. Patton felt himself cross his arms and draw back to examine Janus, but couldn't stop it from happening. His scales looked the same as ever, more yellow than green under the light, but both eyes were glassy in a way that indicated lack of sleep. He looked tired, Patton decided, but not sick.

"Did I button my shirt wrong?" Janus asked, not actually looking down to check. He kept his eyes on Patton.

"Is there something on your mind?" Patton asked.

Janus countered this question with another question, which Patton supposed was fair: "Did you come down here just for that?"

"Well, actually…" Patton tugged at the tight, precise braid of Logan's friendship bracelet. Why was this so hard? "I thought we could-- If you wanted to--" His nerves were taking over and he was helpless to stop them, couldn't control the way his voice trembled. He started over. "So, no pressure, obviously, but I just thought it might be nice if we, you know, made friendship bracelets together." Patton held up his forearms so Janus could see. "If you want."

Tears were forming in Janus' human eye; his chest hitched with uneven breaths. Patton was already raising his arms to offer a hug when Janus turned away and started to cough. Oh.

The fit, though it sounded terrible, ended quickly. Janus straightened, drawing a yellow handkerchief back into his sleeve like a magician. "What," he said, pretending to look at his fingernails, "are the odds of you believing that was nothing?"

"It didn't sound like nothing," Patton said.

Janus sighed and leaned back against the wall, pressing his fingertips to his forehead. "Look, I didn't want to say anything, but I think that our dear benevolent prince might be a little angrier than he let on."

"You think Roman's doing this to you?" That didn't sound like him. He could be stubborn, sure, maybe even bull-headed, but it really wasn't like him to make someone sick. At least, not on purpose.

"It's not Remus," Janus said, crossing his arms. "There's nothing else wrong with me."

"It's just a cough?"

"Just a cough."

Patton tapped his fingers against his leg, thinking. "Roman's not really talking to me at the moment--"

"Typical," Janus muttered.

Not wanting to fight, Patton let this go. "But I'll see if I can… Well, I'll see what I can do."

Janus nodded, then seemed to remember something. His jaw worked for a second, his eyes darting everywhere except Patton's face. "Thank you."

Patton nodded, still inexplicably afraid. Now was his chance to leave, since Janus hadn't acknowledged his offer. If he sank out fast enough-- But what exactly was he running from? He wasn't Logic, but he couldn't deny that it made no sense to run from something he couldn't even identify. "So, um. Did you want to…?"

"Where?" Janus asked.

The trapdoor to the speakeasy opened beneath their feet. Patton's door appeared down the hall. He and Janus looked at each other in silence.

"The lighting might be a little better in my room," Patton said finally. He wasn't sure which of them had caused his door to appear. The subconscious was tricky like that sometimes.

"By all means," Janus said.

It was a little nerve-wracking to have Janus in his room. Patton wasn't quite sure why. Maybe the idea that Janus might not like it, and by extension, not like him. After all, Patton's room was as much an extension of himself and his function as his body was.

Janus stepped quietly over the threshold, holding himself still except for his eyes, which darted from object to object.

"Let me know if you start feeling all sentimental," Patton said, a thrill of nerves tingling his spine. "I don't have a lot of practice controlling my room." Janus probably didn't want to cry today, or ever. Not that he seemed like the type to get caught up in nostalgia. Like Logan, he was ruthless, cutting away what didn't serve him with the precision of a surgeon. Or so it seemed.

Janus nodded. Patton frowned. He'd been awfully quiet since Patron had extended the invitation. He almost seemed scared, which didn't make sense. They were safe in here. Too safe, if Patton let them be, sequestered in this hall of nostalgia's anesthetic haze.

"Are those California poppies?" Janus asked, striding forward to a dresser (the design of which had come from a memory of sleepovers at Thomas' grandmother's house).

"Where?" Patton asked, turning on his heel to look. It was difficult to move without tripping over the odd bin or crate of memorabilia. He found himself faced with a choice to either bend backwards to see around Janus or to stand right next to him. Far too close for propriety, they would be wedged right up against each other like the yearbooks on the far bookshelf.

Patton's heart started to race. Why? Why should he be nervous? He bent backwards, muscles aching in protest at the awkward pose, and peered around Janus' body. "I can't tell."

Janus turned, squinting at Patton's predicament, before looking down at the bins on the floor. He seemed to grasp the issue and extended a hand for Patton to take. "Come here."

Come here. Innocuous words, but the same ones he'd used to bring Patton into his arms that terrible night. Patton's heart fluttered.

He stepped over a stack of textbooks and entered Janus' space. Janus' capelet was soft and velvety against his bare arm; his sleeve a little rougher.

"Are they?" Janus asked.

The poppies were already wilting a little and Patton couldn't help but feel sad about that, even though they were imaginary. "Yes."

"How did you get them?"

"California," Patton said, the memory coming to him on a warm breeze that smelled of the outdoors. "Thomas sees them every time he gets to go."

Janus stifled a cough into the back of his hand, nodding all the while. "He wore them in his hair once."

Patton smiled, mind awash in golden light. Thomas and his friends were making a brief pit stop as they journeyed down I-5 and someone, it didn't even matter who, had spotted the blooms growing by the roadside. And they had all worn flowers in their hair for the rest of the day, bright faces made brighter by the addition of something so beautiful. "Do you like California poppies, Janus?"

"It's funny," Janus said, in a tone so devoid of sarcasm and teasing that Patton nearly did a double-take, "It never occurred to me to like them. But seeing them like this…"

He trailed off, coloring slightly, and Patton's breath caught in his throat. He understood perfectly, too perfectly, and it made him tremble.

It had never occurred to him to love Janus, until one day it did. But this-- Oh, no. Oh, no. Not like this. This couldn't be allowed. Janus glanced over at him and Patton felt his smile snap into place despite the newfound ache of wanting beneath his ribs.

"And here I thought you were going to keep me safe from your room," Janus teased.

"Oops!" Patton ran a hand through his hair. "Give me a second here; I can make a space." He thought for a moment before sitting them both down at a wooden picnic table. He imagined embroidery floss in every color, bins stacked with beads, scissors, and two rolls of masking tape just to be safe.

"Summer camp," Janus said, smiling that crooked smile.

Despite his best efforts, Patton blushed. He tried not to hate himself for it because Janus wouldn't want that. But he also knew he was being far too selfish now, wanting Janus all for himself. There was a line and he had crossed it. "Do you remember what to do?"

Janus was already pawing through the embroidery thread. Loose strands clung to his gloves and Patton watched, intrigued, as Janus' mouth curled into that not-smile he sometimes wore when he was making fun. He withdrew his hands, trailing rainbow strings despite his efforts to shake them off, and glanced at Patton, startling a little when their eyes met.

Patton wasn't sure what to say. 'It's okay' felt hollow, less than a lie. Utterly meaningless. Janus' gloves meant something to him, something that went deeper than just aesthetics. Patton understood, in that moment, what it was all for: the gloves, the high collar, the hat, the sarcasm, the biting remarks, the exaggeration. All guarding Janus' heart. He must have been very afraid. Suddenly his irritation at Patton's inability to prioritize himself made perfect sense.

"I can help you," Patton said, not wanting Janus to feel pressured into taking off his gloves. "You can keep them on, just tell me what colors--"

"Don't be stupid," Janus snapped. "It's just clothing."

"Oh," said Patton. Heat flooded his face, impending tears burning in his eyes. Understanding didn't make it hurt less.

Janus didn't say anything, couldn't, because he was muffling those awful, barking coughs into his sleeve. They sounded so much worse than yesterday. Patton stared at a skein of auburn embroidery floss. He would have to find some way to get through to Roman.

"That was inappropriate," Janus said when he resurfaced. He was a little out of breath; his breath caused loose strings to flutter.

"I understand," Patton said.

"You do?"

Here, Patton hesitated. It seemed a little rude to read Janus, as Roman would say. He had obviously lashed out because he was scared of something.

Janus winced, pressed his lips together, shifted where he sat. "I'm sorry." He wouldn't look at Patton. "I shouldn't have said that."

"We can do this another time," Patton said, "if you're not ready. I just wanted…" It seemed stupid to say it out loud now, stupid and manipulative. "I wanted you to feel accepted."

Janus tugged his gloves off without fanfare, folded them neatly, and set them down on the table. His left hand was scaled, which Patton supposed he should have anticipated. "Don't look," Janus said. Patton frowned, trying to parse this, and Janus elaborated, "I want it to be a surprise."

"Oh!" Patton said, relief flooding his chest like morning sunlight through an eastward-facing window. "Okay." He stared at the embroidery thread, thinking. He had never been all that good at color theory, but… Maybe he could do a dark green for Janus's scales, and gold because they shimmered. To represent himself, he would of course use blue thread. And for the two of them, gray. But what shade of green…? Patton picked up a skein of army green floss, then kelly green, then moss green. "Janus?"

"Hm?"

"I need to look at you."

"Oh, Patton, I'm flattered, but need?"

"Can you just give me your hand for a second?" Patton asked, blushing.

"Which one?" Janus asked archly.

"The left one."

"...What for?"

Patton, still not looking at Janus, held up the three skeins of embroidery floss. "I need to color match."

Janus let out a huff of air through his nose. "I'm much prettier than that."

Then an idea struck. "Ooh, I know what to do! I still need your hand, though."

"Alright, alright." Janus leaned over, extending his hand to Patton. He flinched a little when Patton held it in his own, but did not pull away.

"Hmm," said Patton, examining the scales and the way they reflected back the light. It took a bit of thinking, but he managed to imagine a skein of thread in the same glossy green-gold color.

Then Janus stiffened and started to cough again, his hand curling around Patton's fingers until his nails dug painfully into Patton's skin. The fit was low and ragged and rough, left Janus teary eyed and gasping.

"You're sure this is Roman?" Patton asked, dimly aware that he was still holding Janus' hand.

"Forget it," Janus said, his voice like tattered silk. "You said you'd talk to him."

"I'll go right now if you want me to."

Janus shook his head. "Are you done with my hand? If not, I have a few to spare."

"Oh!" said Patton. "Yes. Sorry." He let go of Janus's hand, knuckles aching where Janus' nails had dug in. Janus' cough must have hurt far more than he was letting on.

Right. Compartmentalize. Friendship bracelets.

Patton picked his colors, eyeballed the thread length, cut them down, and taped the ends to the table. He decided on a simple striped pattern, flat, so it could slide easily under Janus's sleeve or the cuffs of his gloves.

"So you and Remus?" Patton said after he had fallen into a rhythm and didn't need to focus quite so hard.

"We're friends, yes."

"But you said--" Patton cut himself off, embarrassed. He certainly didn't want to be reminded of that awful night, and Janus probably didn't either.

"I know."

Patton was pulling too hard. He set his threads down and added another piece of tape. "I don't get it."

Janus sighed. "I'd rather not talk behind his back, but I will say this: He was on his worst behavior when he introduced himself."

Patton considered this but couldn't think of anything to say other than 'thank God.' That seemed rude, so he just kept his mouth shut. The silence that ensued felt equally as rude, and words slipped out of Patton's mouth before he could stop himself, "Do you love him?"

Janus didn't answer. Patton was tempted to look at him, to try to read his expression, but didn't want to risk ruining the surprise. Finally, Janus sighed and Patton heard the gentle rustle of his clothing as he shifted in his seat. "Defensive sarcastic quip."

Patton dropped his threads again so he could muffle a laugh behind his hands. "Sorry, was that too personal?"

"No, no, I love talking about myself. Maybe next you can ask me about my deepest fears."

"I didn't mean to be pushy," Patton said. It was hard not to be; he was so full of love love love he just wanted to give it away like Tupperwares full of snickerdoodles, like wildflower bouquets. He wanted Janus, wanted his whole fam-ILY to know and feel it as deeply as he felt it.

And Janus especially, Patton wanted to tell him with his lips, with his hands, with his tongue. His whole body radiating love.

But just because he wanted didn't mean he could have. He ached with a selfish desire to be held again, safe in Janus' arms. But even Patton was smart enough to understand that that moment was over and done with. They had shared it, and now it was another snapshot for the shoebox Patton kept in his closet. His own memories, separate from Thomas. A testament to his personhood.

They worked in silence after that, until Patton's wandering thoughts came to rest, inevitably, on the trouble at hand. "Hey, Janus?"

"Yes?"

"What do you think we should do now? Thomas can't keep going like this for much longer, I don't think. He hasn't done anything. And I-- I'm not saying-- I'm not trying to say it's, you know, immoral to rest, but this doesn't seem healthy." And also, it did chafe Patton a little, to see Thomas being so lazy, but he could keep that to himself.

"The sooner Logan and Roman get over themselves, the better," Janus said.

"I haven't checked on them yet today." Patton heaved a sigh and tried to focus on his pattern. He had the matte gray hooked around his finger at the moment, his own deliberate reminder to compromise.

"They haven't checked on you at all."

"So, what, then?" Patton asked, struggling not to look up. "I should get mad and ignore them right back?"

"That's what I would do," Janus said. "And you did ask. But…" A long-ish pause. "As we both know, I'm always right."

Oh. Patton closed his eyes, trying not to fold over and bury his forehead in the rough wood of the picnic table. He'd never wanted to see the worst in Janus, but he'd been bracing for it all the same. And every time he held his breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop, it never happened.

That didn't mean they were never going to fight. Patton knew he was naive, but he wasn't that naive. But he had been bracing for something so much worse than this.

It was for Thomas. He had to remind himself. Janus had even said so, down in the parlor. It was all for Thomas. And Patton was sure, when it came time to make the next big decision, they would be at odds again.

But maybe… Maybe it didn't have to be so hostile. Couldn't they disagree without being enemies?

"You are always right, Janus," Janus said in Patton's voice. "And you're so handsome, and smart, too."

It was equal parts creepy and amusing, but Patton appreciated what Janus was trying to do, so he smiled. "I mean, you are smart. And h--" The word caught in his throat. They did all look very similar, though the subtle nature of the subconscious altered their appearances somewhat. It sharpened up Janus' features some, took away several inches of height, made his eyes dark and flashing. "And handsome," Patton finished weakly.

"You already said that," Janus said, voice dripping with faux-innocence.

"You're sweet, is what you are," Patton teased back.

"Finished," said Janus.

Patton blinked, thrown off, before he realized what Janus meant. "I'm almost done. Give me juuuust a second." He finished the bracelet with a practiced hand. "Can I look now?"

"Give me your hand. Then you can look."

Patton extended his left hand and finally looked over at Janus for the first time since they had started. The bright colors of the bracelet caught his eye immediately; it was an intricate weave of only two colors: bright yellow and true blue. Janus fingers were deft and gentle around Patton's wrist. He made no remarks about the purple and black bracelet already tied on.

"Oh, Janus, it's perfect!" Patton said. Hot tears welled up in his eyes. He let them fall, unashamed. It was nice to cry happy tears for once. "Your turn."

Janus pushed up his sleeve, tilting his head at Patton's bracelet. "What does it mean?"

"The green is for your scales," Patton explained, positioning the bracelet around Janus' right wrist. "The blue is for me. And the gray is.." He paused, suddenly embarrassed. "Well, it's a reminder."

One of the ends brushed against Janus' forearm and he twitched, nearly pulling out of Patton's grasp. "That tickled," he explained.

"You're ticklish?"

"No," Janus said, far too quickly for it to be the truth.

Patton smiled at him, though he knew they were a long way off from friendly touches. It struck him then just how badly he wanted that future. He wanted cuddle sessions with Janus on the couch, just the two of them. He wanted stolen kisses in the kitchen and tickle fights in bed. He wanted Janus, body and soul, consequences be damned. "Noted," Patton said. "Janus: totally not ticklish, even a little bit."

"Gospel truth," Janus said.

Patton finished tying on the bracelet and sat back. "Well…" He didn't want to leave his room, which was a sure sign it was time to go. "I'd better go check on my kiddos."

To his surprise, Janus didn't scowl or nag. He tugged his gloves back on, carefully sliding the bracelet inside the cuff. "What do you say to them?"

"Just that I'm here," Patton said. "And I love them.

"You know, Patton--" Janus got up and held the door open, breaking the spell of Patton's room somewhat-- "sometimes I think you're too good for the likes of us."

And then he was gone, sinking out before Patton could ask him what he meant by that.

Patton went first to Logan's room. Logan had maintained his silence after the meeting, not even answering to tell Patton to go away. The only hint Patton had that he was still in there was that Thomas hadn't gone completely off the rails.

"Hey, Logan." Patton knocked gently. "I'll go away soon, because I know you don't want me to bother you. I just wanted to say… Well, I'm not sure what you need right now, but I know this isn't it. So whenever you're ready to come out, I'll be here." It was so hard not to spill his guts to that plain white door. Almost like a confessional, only that Logan stubbornly refused to tell him what he had to do to earn forgiveness. "I'll go now. Come get me if you need anything, okay? I love you and I miss you." He waited a few seconds for any signs of movement within, but there was nothing.

Down the hall to Roman's room then.

The sight of Virgil seated on the floor with his back pressed up against Roman's cherrywood door made Patton pause, breaths stuttering in his chest.

He kept his distance, but Virgil had startled at the sound of his steps on the carpet.

Patton flashed him a thumbs up and cocked his head.

Virgil nodded.

Patton sank out. What else could he do? If Roman would rather talk to Virgil than to him, well… Patton couldn't blame him.

He sat down heavily at the kitchen island, staring down at the half-finished puzzle. Tears blurred his eyes and he took off his glasses as they started to fall. He was so, so sick of crying. He did it all the time. Every strong emotion moved him to tears.

He wanted to crawl back to Janus' room, relive that tender night. Just once, he wanted someone else to pick him up off the ground. He was thoroughly sick of being his own hero.

He had mostly gotten himself under control by the time Virgil popped up by the fridge. It was only his breathing that still troubled him, heavy and painful in his chest.

"Hey, Virge."

"Since when do you call me that?" Virgil asked, opening the fridge.

It was reflex more than anything that forced Patton to his feet. "I can make you something."

"You don't have to," Virgil mumbled, cheeks going scarlet under his foundation.

"I want to," Patton said. That much was still true, at least. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Uh, I was just gonna make a sandwich," Virgil said.

"BLT?"

"Sure."

Patton nodded, clenching his left hand into a fist by his side. Virgil was incredibly observant; he was bound to notice Janus' friendship bracelet. Patton wasn't sure whether to let him or to bring it up.

Virgil saved him from having to decide. "Where have you been all morning?" Patton wordlessly held up his arm, feeling for all the world like a guilty child. Sure enough, Virgil's eyes narrowed. But to Patton's surprise, no lecture followed. "Janus made that?"

"Mm-hm." Patton nodded. "I made him one, too."

"Is he wearing it?" Virgil asked, looking dumbfounded.

"Yeah," Patton said, a little emboldened now that he knew Virgil wasn't angry. "Tied it on myself."

"He let you do that? Janus?" Virgil ran both hands through his hair, looking at Patton like he'd just expressed a desire to go cliff diving while blindfolded.

"I mean, I didn't have to tie him down."

Virgil sighed through his nose and wandered to the kitchen island with a lost expression. "That's weird."

Patton opened up the fridge. "Are you okay?" he said to the condiments rack, not wanting to make Virgil uncomfortable with too much eye contact.

"Watch him," Virgil said. "Watch him like a hawk… A hawk with binoculars."

"Aww!" said Patton, picturing it. "Oh! How's Roman?"

"Conflicted," Virgil said. "I told him you've been hanging out with Janus."

Patton bit his tongue and pulled a head of lettuce out of the crisper drawer. It wasn't wrong to spend time with Janus. He loved Janus. Love was never wrong. "How'd he take it?"

"Nnnot that bad?" Virgil said. "I think it helps that Thomas hasn't gone full, y'know, Squip."

"You know I wouldn't let that happen," Patton said. He moved over to the counter and paused to take a few deep breaths. His chest hurt a little. Probably just from crying too much. But that reminded him of Janus and that worrisome, mysterious cough. "By the way, does Roman seem… in control?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know, he accidentally made it super cold for a little bit."

"Oh," said Virgil, "yeah. He apologized for that. He's okay now."

Patton nodded, trying not to let his worry show on his face. But it crept into the corners of his mind and kept him silent as he made two BLTs. If Janus was sure it wasn't Remus and Virgil was sure it wasn't Roman… Who else could it be? Or what else?

No answers sprang into Patton's mind. He bit his lip and stabbed one fancy toothpick each through sandwiches. He slid one plate over to Virgil, mindful not to upset any stray puzzle pieces, then rounded the kitchen island to sit next to Virgil.

"You…" he started, and paused to catch his breath. "You're not mad, are you?"

"I mean, I don't love that you're hanging out with Janus. I wish you wouldn't. I wish he'd leave us all alone and go back to slinking around in the shadows like the snake he is." Virgil turned his head to look at the new friendship bracelet on Patton's arm. "But you're your own Side. It would be wrong for me to try to control you. I just really hope he doesn't hurt you, Patton."

"So you're not mad?"

"No, pop star, I'm not mad. Just worried about you."

"Thanks, kiddo."

It seemed that these days, the mindscape was just made up of one crisis after another. After spending a pleasant day with Virgil, albeit with his breaths dragging in and out of his body like the air was too thick to breathe, the next morning found Patton doubled over in a fit of coughing so intense it knocked his glasses off. He ducked right back into his room, kicking his glasses in before him, and spat out a mouthful of heart-shaped flowers onto the floor.

Hm. Uh-oh. He wasn't an expert on biology, but he was fairly sure that wasn't supposed to happen.

The blooms were pretty, though, bright magenta hearts with little white tails. Bleeding hearts, they were called.

Patton frowned. Hadn't Janus said… Yes. 'I want you to protect that bleeding heart of yours.' How ironic. Maybe. Patton could never seem to use 'irony,' right, something Logan was always quick to point out.

He coughed again, but no flowers came up this time. That was good, probably. Coughing was bad, coughing up blood was worse. Surely coughing up flowers had to be somewhere in the middle.

He stood up straight again and banished the flowers into nothingness. Was it coincidence that Janus had a cough? Was it contagious? He hadn't said anything about flowers, though.

Patton sank out, grabbing his glasses on the way. If he was coughing, then he was probably sick. He knew how to handle that.

Since Virgil rarely spent time in the living room, Patton could hole up there with tea and toast and Adventure Time on the TV. Just until he was better, and then it would be right back to trying to fix things. He wondered if Janus would be proud or whether he would just push for Patton to rest more. Maybe both.

Virgil made an appearance a few hours later, about the time that Patton felt his patience running thin. The cough wasn't getting better, but he had no full-body fatigue to make the cartoon marathon bearable. Sitting still for too long made him antsy.

"Roman invited me in," Virgil called from the kitchen, dashing any hopes Patton had for conversation. "I just wanted to let y-- What are you doing?"

"I think I'm getting sick," Patton explained, wincing as the words seemed to claw their way out of his torn-up throat.

"Are you okay?"

Patton nodded. Aside from the cough, he really did feel fine. Maybe this would pass quickly. "Tell Roman I said hi."

"Will do." Virgil gave one last, lingering look before he sank out.

This left Patton alone with the ache in his chest and the vast loneliness threatening to swallow him whole. He tried not to think too much about Janus, lest he inadvertently summon him again, but it was so hard now. He didn't ever want to be apart from Janus. It was such a pure and simple yearning that Patton couldn't even feel guilty for it (though he did feel an echo of guilt that he didn't feel guilty). But it was a desire born of love, and how could that be bad?

The only bad thing about it was that Janus didn't love him back. Of course he didn't. How could he? All he ever did was run around babysitting Patton through crying spells, desperately trying to get him to pull himself together. There was nothing remotely attractive about that. In fact, with Janus, it seemed that all Patton did was take, take, take. He was guilty of the exact behavior that had him so wrung-out and desperate in the first place. How embarrassing.

Patton coughed into the crook of his arm, catching flowers and leaves in his mouth and banishing them without looking. He'd been sick before, they all had, but never like this. He almost wished for fatigue or a headache, something to make resting a little more bearable. Right now, he just felt lazy.

A bottle of NyQuil appeared on the couch next to him, nestled up against an embroidered throw pillow. Patton looked at it. He could already hear Logan lecturing him about the dangers of misusing medication, but… Patton was sick. And he was imaginary. And Thomas probably knew better than to chug NyQuil at the first sign of illness.

It would be fine. Patton poured out a dose and drank it down with his nose plugged in the hopes of masking the alcohol-tinged artificial sweetness. He still shuddered at the syrupy sensation on his tongue. Then he sank out, changed into his pajamas, and buried himself under his covers to slip into a coma.

#sanders sides fanficion #sanders sides #moceit #spicywrites #spicywrites intertwined

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shewhowantsmouseears · 3 years

Text

morgwing meet-up messy drabble

My year-long-fic-break has been slightly broken, but don’t expect too much. I had enough brain juice in me to write this 3 page silliness.

Still riding the high from @queenie-draws-stuff ‘s rad Morgana redesign, I decided to write a potential “how they met” deal, combining the original Fungus Amongus quotes/situation with Queenie’s Goth Rock set-up.

Additional notes now I think of them before jumping right to what is basically “mel enjoys writing simps”

The Band uses a We Will Rock You style song (been listening to this cover) to hypnotize her fans into attacking Darkwing and the gang.

Halestorm’s cover of Bad Romance is definitely suitable for attacking and flirting with Darkwing at the same time.

At one point, Darkwing gets her guitar away from her and he’s confident “Ahaha! Now that I’ve taken away your magic, you’re helpless!” And Morgana smiles... then bursts into cackles. “Oh, Dark Darling... my guitar isn’t the source of my power. It’s merely a conduit.” (”a... a what”) “In other words...” her hands and eyes glow. “It’s time for the encore, baby.”

OKAY TIME FOR THE SHORT WRITTEN THING ITSELF

In hindsight, this wasn’t the best plan, but in his defense, it worked all the time on a TV show he’d watched as a child. Darkwing paused to think about that train of logic, and pondered if perhaps he should stop trying to plan his investigations that way and instead follow his own instincts next time.

“OWWWWW BONES DO NOT BEND THAT WAY!”

If there was a next time. He had assumed the whole goth rock mutant monster image was just that, an image. The guy with two heads, the girl with one eye, the behemoth of a drummer? All of it was just costumes and acting! So when announced his presence in his typical overly dramatic fashion, he assumed they would cower in fear before offering their assistance. Instead, they had jumped him and were now holding his arms behind his back and threatening to tie his limbs into knots. As he continued to squirm in place, he once more tried to plead his innocence.

“I’m here to HELP!” He cried out, nervously noticing the two-headed terror cracking his knuckles while the one-eyed wonder was pulling out various sharp instruments from her purse, and they definitely weren’t the musical kind. “I was just looking for clues! You know those robberies that have been happening around here, right?! There’s a connection between them and your band!”

“And now we’re about to disconnect your head from your neck!” Said the left head, and the right headed nodded vigorously.

Darkwing winced, as the others advanced on him, the grip on his arms tightening. If this was his last day on earth, he really wished his last words to Gosalyn hadn’t been “Remember to run the dishwasher after homework.” He closed his eyes, his brain struggling to think of how to get him out of this sticky situation…

“HEY!” A sharp - yet familiar – voice broke through the scene. “What’s going on here?! We do not treat our fans this way! Put him down!”

It took less than a second for Darkwing to recognize the voice – this was the singer of the band, after all. When Gosalyn had showed him the link to her new favorite indie band, Darkwing had taken a compulsory listen without paying attention to the visuals, as he was busy trying to pin down the strange case of robberies where the victims couldn’t remember being robbed at all. The singer was definitely talented, a strong but sultry voice that Darkwing certainly wouldn’t have minded listening to on a loop. But it’d been also terribly distracting, so he hadn’t tried to give the music video any attention. Once again, this proved to have been not the best idea in hindsight.

Because then he would have prepared for the absolute bombshell that walked through the curtains.

Darkwing opened one eye to see his savior, and then both eyes were not only open, but they were also quite wide in shock. The woman in question was a leggy stunner, her black and white hair parted over one side and trailing down her eerily pale feathers like a shadowy walk lit by moonlit. Sharp green eyes pierced right through his heart, analyzing him as he stood there in a slack-jawed stupor. She adjusted her blood-red guitar over her back, the crimson and black spider-web outfit giving him the feeling he’d be the fly that eagerly walked into this parlor any day. She rested one hand on her hip, and snapped her fingers – even her nails were unique – long, sharp, yellow, and deadly.

Darkwing had no more time to realize he had a type and she was it when he was let go and dropped to the floor. As he scrambled to get up and dust himself off, the one-eyed woman huffed. “We caught this weirdo sneaking around here, Morgana.”

Morgana held up a hand, signaling for silence. “I got this, Cornea.” She looked Darkwing up and down once more before smiling in amusement. “I believe this is where you introduce yourself.” She offered her hand to shake. “Nice to meet you, mister…?”

“D-Dingwing Dork.” Darkwing sputtered, his palm feeling incredibly sweaty in her delicate hand. He was quick to realize his mistake, yelped, and fumbled with his hands and hat as he tried to make his brain calm down. “DARK! Darkwing Duck! Dark-Darkwing Duck.” After a hard throat clear, he tried to pretend he hadn’t made an absolute fool of himself several times, tipping his hat politely, doing a gentlemanly bow, and ignoring the various eyerolls of the other band-mates. “At your service.”

“What an unusual name,” Morgana commented, lightly tilting his beak up with one of her fingers, closing the gap between them for a few but very, very personal seconds. “But then you appear to be very unusual… I like that.” When she pulled away, it was a sheer miracle Darkwing didn’t fall forward, though he certainly leaned in enough to make it a close call. “We were just wrapping up rehearsal. We want to close up shop early, what with all those midnight robberies going on.”

Darkwing stopped for a second, befuddled. “Hang on. How did you know they were midnight robberies?” He was fairly certain that was something the press hadn’t leaked, and he’d only just figured out the timeline a day before.

Morgana froze in place – eyes quickly shooting to her fellow players – before rolling her shoulders, readjusting her guitar so that it slid back into her arms. “I… deduced it.”

Maybe if Launchpad and Gosalyn were there – the former to ask more questions, the latter to smack some sense into him – Darkwing would have taken greater notice of that lengthy pause. Instead? She deduced it, he thought, his heart doing cartwheels. My kinda woman. Despite his clear problematic infatuation, his brain did have enough cells left to ask another important question. “Isn’t it kind of… peculiar… to hold a rehearsal this late?”

Morgana plucked a few notes off her guitar, walking back onto the front of the stage, the curtains now perfectly parted to show the moon shining down from the ceiling – the venue, such as it was, had certainly seen better days. But now the various holes above seemed to be an improvement rather than something that needed fixing. “I enjoy the night,” she answered, and then playfully added, “Besides, the sun is so harsh on my skin.”

“You know…” Darkwing casually strolled up to Morgana’s side, his previous predicament forgotten already, “I’m something of a creature of the night myself.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

Morgana chuckled quietly. “I bet we have a lot in common, Darkwing. In fact…” She lightly nudged the guitar’s neck into Darkwing’s actual neck, enjoying the audible tiny ‘eep’ his flustered mouth made. “I bet we could make beautiful music together.”

#morgana mccawber #darkwing duck #morgwing #i'm sorry for bothering you queenie #but its your own fault for making such a rad morgana #and yes I have the fungus quotes memorized #i have watched that episode TOO MANY TIMES

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