#adding onto that last reblog i think something that often gets missed in conversations about activism is that they do take work

[theghostofashton]

.

#adding onto that last reblog i think something that often gets missed in conversations about activism is that they do take work #it is energy and emotional labor to format and frame things in a way that isn't angry and attacking people #it's effort that sometimes people who are personally impacted by whatever issue simply do not have the bandwidth to do #and it shouldn't be expected it shouldn't be oligatory #if you're trying to educate people you need to do so in a way that's not shaming them #and sometimes that's hard bc you feel so strongly and it's infuriating that people don't know about this thing that's so important to you #but projecting your anger about that onto them is not going to be effective #bc like that post said people will not respond well to that kind of message #and if your point is to educate and to create change in that way you need to approach it in a way that will lead to that #so often i think people cling to shaming others because they're right about an issue and while you may be right #you are doing nothing to get people to want to listen to you so how have you done anything at all #not everyone needs to educate and if you don't want to you shouldn't feel obligated to #bc someone who meets people where they're at is more effective than someone who shames and attacks people and makes them feel bad #this stuff is work it involves so much work and i think it's important to acknowledge that bc it is not for everyone #there are people who are willing and there are people who aren't and i think both need to be okay for us to make progress #neha rambles

[obsessedelusional]

Oblivious

paring ✦ Bella Ramsey x fem!reader

summary ✦ Bella and you have been friends for a few years now. Didn’t take long for them to a form a crush on you. While visiting after not seeing you for a while, they decide it’s time to come clean about their feeling. Too afraid, they keep dropping hints. What happens when Bella finally finds the courage to tell you?

word count ✦ 2,000ish

authors note ✦ THANKS for all the love <33

masterlist

FEEDBACK AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!!

⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

“So who’s your celebrity crush then?” Bella asks her best friend of years, intentionally after talking openly about their celebrity crush. You share a striking resemblance too, hoping maybe this information would spark something in you. Your too oblivious to connect the dots.

“Hmm…. Right now?” You pause in a attempt to shuffle through all the random celebrities you’ve found attractive.

“Probably Kristen Stewart.” Bella is surprised by you answer.

“Kristen Stewart?” They ask, slack jawed.

“Yeah I rewatched all the twilight movies last week. I used to be team Edward but now I think I’m team Bella. It’s actually absurd that we let those men get away with everything they did.” You explain, going off on a tangent about Twilight. Bella half listens, trying to understand if you said Kristen because you might be gay or because you liked twilight.

“She has a whole ass fiancé, I’m shit out of luck.” You sigh dramatically before going back to your phone. Bella forces a laugh, more confused than when they started this conversation.

“But doesn’t matter, I got my own Bella.” You tease with a wink unknowingly adding to Bella’s distress.

“Edward was a creep, a whole ass stalker. Imagine if she woke up when Edward broke in to bedroom to watch her sleep. If my boyfriend did that shit, he’d get kicked to the curb so quick.” Bella groans out loud on accident causing you to look up from your phone.

“Okay I know you don’t like him but-“ You speak quickly interrupted.

“Yeah cause he’s a dick. Way worse than Edward Cullen ever was.”

“First of all, you’ve never seen twilight. Second of all, I don’t think you’ve ever liked anyone I’ve ever dated.” You respond, your tone sassy. Bella doesn’t respond only because she cannot pretend why she’s never liked your new boyfriends. Your “love” for them never lasted long, moving onto the next one with ease. They wished desperately you’d forget about the male population as a whole.

“It’s because I like you.” Bella says, not entirely registering the words as they come out.

“I like care about you, you deserve someone better.” Nice save, Bella thinks. Internally screaming to themself you deserve them.

“Aww I like care about you,” you respond sarcasm heavy on your voice, eyes on your phone. Bella rolls her eyes in response. That’s one thing Bella loved so badly about you, you were just as sarcastic and could always banter with you. More often than not they couldn’t keep up with your attitude.

Bella was in town for a few weeks, break between their filming. She had missed you so much the l last few months, promising her self she was gonna do something about it this time. When it’s time for the two of you to part, Bella steals on you hoodies.

“Where the fuck are you going with that?” You ask mostly joking, when you notice.

“I want it,” Bella argues. Not wanting to admit that she’s been stealing from you on the low. Just taking little things, now and then. Nothing you’d ever miss but it means everything to Bella. To have a piece of you while she’s off on her job related adventures. Sometimes even using your shirt as a pillow case when they really miss you.

—

Bella had a plan to tell you how they felt the next day. Before you spring going to a party’s with you. Bella was older than you, you just graduated high school. Still caught up in the high school bullshit. Thankfully they were visiting during your summer vacation before you headed off to university.

“These are for you.” Bella barley whispers, handing you the bouquet of flowers. Your favorite ones. After you sprung the party on them, they decided they’d just do it before. Maybe it would be enough to convince you to stay in with them instead.

“Thanks bestie,” you respond. Bestie? Bella groans internally, discouraged by your friendly pet name. Chickening out on their original plans, mentally throwing out the monologue they had planned for you.

“I saw them and thought of you.” Bella admits.

Once in Bella’s car, they purposefully play Jenny by Studio Killers. Signing along passionately, hoping maybe you’d hear the lyrics and they’d resonate with you. The songs about a girl having a crush on her best friend. You just nod along, never commenting on the subject of it. Bella doesn’t show it but they irritation is growing. Wanting nothing more than to spill their feelings for you, always coming up short when it’s time to do so.

—

“Do we really have to go?” Bella whines only to stop when you grab their hand and pull them closer to the door. Once at the door, you face Bella your back to the door.

“It’s just a little kickback, maybe 20 people tops. You’ll be okay! I’ll be by your side the whole time. I promise.” You reassure Bella and they let out a defeated sigh. A small laugh leaves your mouth bringing a smile to Bellas. The door swings open, some dude from your school attempting to leave. He pushes past the two of you, not saying a single word.

“Rude.” You mutter under you breath, leading Bella inside. Finding some of your friends, introducing them to Bella. Bella’s wondering what the fuck she’s doing here? Oh yeah because you asked and that’s all it took. They couldn’t say no especially when you start pouting, eyes staring directly into Bella’s.

“Sorry I really thought it’d be smaller.” You apologize to Bella some time later, the two of you sat in a group of friends and strangers. Bella doesn’t drink so you don’t either, watching everyone get drunk without the two of you.

“We should do something. Play a game.” Someone suggests, everyone agrees.

“We should play spin the bottle.” Some suggests, most people agree. You look over to Bella who’s shaking their head no.

“I think I’ll sit this one out.” Bella says, standing up going to sit out of the group. Still close enough to be part of the conversation but not in the immediate circle.

“You playing?” Some drunk dude asks you. You look over to Bella who just gives you a smile.

“I guess so.” You say, thinking it’ll be a funny story to tell someday.

“Fuck yeah,” he responds. You sit and wait as one of your friends finds a bottle lays in the center of the group all while explains the rules. A player spins the bottle, and must kiss the person to whom the bottle points when it stops spinning. You watch as people take turns, watching as people kiss. Most kisses only last a few seconds. It’s almost your turn, the girl before you spins the bottle. Landing on the boy next to you, she giggles before reaching over you to kiss him. Their kiss is more aggressive than the others, lasting much longer. People cheering them on as they continue.

“I don’t think I’m gonna live up to that performance.” You joke, as they pull away from each other. Nervously you spin the bottle, following it with your eyes as it spins in a circle. It lands on a girl, you barley know. Before you can say anything people are chanting for y’all to just do it.

“I mean if she’s down I’m down.” The girl shrugs her shoulders, looking at you for a response.

“Sure?” you say and for whatever reason it comes out as a question. She starts crawling towards you, when she’s only a few inches away from your face a voice interrupts the moment.

“What about your boyfriend?” It’s Bella speaking. She didn’t care about your boyfriend, using that as an excuse to make you not want to participate in this game anymore.

“What about him? Like you said he’s a dick.” You respond, looking back at the girl sat in front of you waiting for a kiss. Cheering resumes as you two get closer.

“Absolutely not.” Bella speaks over the loud noises, pulling you from the floor with a strength you didn’t know existed. Dragging you through the crowd, straight out the front door. Sounds of booing is all you can hear as you leave.

“What the fuck was that?” You ask, once Bella lets go of you hand. Bella paces back and forth, it’s obvious they want to say something but can’t get it out.

“You’re my best friend. I couldn’t let you do that.” Bella speaks, pacing coming to a stop to face you.

“Actually I don’t want to be your friend anymore.” Bella says, breaking your heart.

“All because I was going to kiss that girl?” You ask, arms crossed over your chest.

“Oh my fucking god. Do you listen like ever? How much more obvious do I have to be?” They ask, louder than before.

“What-“ Your cut off by Bella’s hands cupping your face in swift motion affectionately placing their lips on yours, you move your lips with theirs. Letting your arms fall to your sides. You’re the one to pull away, overwhelmed by all the feelings that came out in that moment.

“I understand if you’re mad at me. But I would of rather died than watch you have your first kiss with a woman not be me.” Bella says before you can fully process what just happened.

“I ruined our friendship.” They say, attempting to read your reaction but your speechless unable to comprehend.

“No you didn’t,” you respond.

“I want to ruin our friendship. I like you.” Bella speaks.

“I like you too.”

“No I like like like you.” Bella says, emphasizing on the last two likes.

“Do you listen like ever?” You ask, mocking their tone when they said that you moments ago.

“I like you.” You say again, emphasis on like. Bella’s eyes narrow on you, looking you in your eyes.

“So if I kissed you again? You wouldn’t stop?” They smirk.

“I don’t know, try me.” You tease, chewing on your lip. They do exactly that, pulling you into their embrace before kissing you for the second time.

—

After a heavy make out session, in the front lawn of that party you guys head back to Bella’s car. This time they open your door, something Bella has never done before. Stealing a kiss in the process then making their way to the drivers side. Once in there’s a silence between you two, sinking in what just happened. They make the drive home, no words are exchanged. Half way there, their hand rests on your thigh giving it a squeeze before going back to driving. You don’t even realize until it’s too late to turn back but Bella’s pulling into their apartment. This was not the original plan but plans change. Parking in their normal parking space.

“How long have you had feelings?” You ask as soon as the car shuts off.

“Oof,” they think out loud.

“Since forever basically.” They admit.

“Same.” You admit causing Bella’s jaw to drop.

“There’s absolutely no way that is possible.” Bella says, not believing you in the slightest.

“We met right before your career really started to take off. I didn’t think it was right to throw that on you while you were out there living your best life.” You explain.

“My best life would of been you by my side, I can’t believe we wasted so many years.” Bella sighs, frustrated.

“We’ll I guess we’re just gonna have to make up for lost time,” You smile, intertwining your fingers with theirs. Playing with the rings they always wore, something you loved about them.

“We better get started, only have two weeks and six days to make up for three years.” Bella grins before instructing you to get out of the car. You do so and Bella meets you outside of the passenger door. Pushing you softly into the side of the car, kissing you in the process. Hands waisting no time explore your body, taking you by surprise. You had never imagined Bella being so forward.

“Where’s this boldness coming from?” You ask when you pull away to breath.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said, we need to make up for all those lost years.” They grin, leading you towards their front door. Your excitement grows as they lead you toward their bedroom, ready to let Bella do whatever they want.

#bella ramsey x you #bella ramsey pov #bella ramsey fluff #bella ramsey #bella ramsey oneshot #bella ramsey x reader #bella ramsey imagine

[ginnyweasleymybeloved]

willow / fred weasley

ahhhhh the first addition to this series!! really hope you guys like it! make sure to let me know what you think, asks/reblogs/comments are very appreciated <3

evermore x hp masterlist

all fics masterlist

summary: hogwarts’ most popular playboy has made it very clear that you, his best friend, were not his type, seeing as you were crushing on him hard, you decide to take matters into your own hands

word count: 2k

warnings: swearing, drinking, mentions of sex but not really, kissing, i think thats it but let me know if i missed anything <3

taglist: @padsfirewhisky

“life was a willow and it bent right to you wind

they count me out time and time again

life was a willow and it bent right to your wind

but i come back stronger than a 90s trend”

Fred Weasley had made quite the name for himself in Hogwarts as of late. You loved the boy dearly but in simple terms he’d become something of a womaniser. It was lighthearted, for the most part, girls knew what they were getting into with Fred, it was black and white and completely unsentimental. With him, a snog was just a snog and a shag was just a shag, there was no confusion over whether or not there was something more there with Fred, there wasn’t and, you supposed, as a teenage girl that there was a certain appeal to that sort of physical transaction. Even though Fred was becoming increasingly hard to catch by himself without a random girl hanging from his arm, he was very particular about who he chose to keep as company on any given night.

Unfortunately for you, it seemed that the criteria was “anyone who isn’t Y/n”. This was made clear to you during a party in the Gryffindor common room while you were hanging out with Fred, George, Lee and Angelina. The five of you were taking up one of the comfy sofas towards the back of the crowded room, a bottle of fire whiskey was being passed between you all. Angelina had her head sleepily tucked into your shoulder, ever the lightweight, as she listened to the conversation the boys were having halfheartedly. George was sat to your right while Angelina was tucked against the arm of the chair to your left, his long arm stretched to wrap around both yours and Angelina’s shoulders. Fred sat on the right arm of the sofa with Lee slouched drunkenly beside George, it was fairly late and since the party had started pretty early after the day’s quidditch win, you were all fairly intoxicated when the dreaded topic of Fred’s gallivanting came about.

“Right, question for Fred,” Lee started, his words slightly slurred as he passed the bottle of fire whiskey to George, who took a long swig before handing the bottle to you and resting his cheek against the top of your head. You let out a small laugh, with Angelina resting on your shoulder and George close to sleep on your head you felt like the comfiest spot in the entire common room.

“Go for it, Jordan,” Fred said airily, his brown eyes glazed over as his stared at your form enveloped between George and Angelina, catching his gaze you outstretched your arm, offering him the alcohol only for him to shake his head and greet you with a soft smile, shifting his eyes back to Lee.

Lee, who always had a tendency to talk with his hands, waved his arms around nonsensically as he posed the question, “If you had to spend the rest of your life with one girl in our year who would it be? Excluding Y/n obviously.”

You sprung to life at that, disturbing Angie and George when you lurched forward to face Lee with a confused expression, “What? What do you mean excluding Y/n?”

Fred chuckled at your affronted expression and shook his head softly, “Don’t look so offended, love. He just means that you’re not really my type.”

You let out a scoff as Angie whined, sitting up with you only to wrap her arms around your middle and plop her head back down on your shoulder, muttering a druken, “Piss off, Freddie. You couldn’t get her anyway,” George snorted, obviously entertained by the whole thing while Lee looked like a child who just got caught staying up past bedtime.

“Ignoring the fact that I’m obviously way out of your league,” you started, glaring at Fred teasingly, “If I’m not your type then how come last night’s girl looked exactly like me?” You challenged raising an eyebrow. George let out a low whistle and Fred choked on air.

“She didn’t- she wasn’t-“ Fred stuttered and Angie groaned against your neck.

“Yea she did, Fredrick. She wasn’t even as gorgeous as our Y/n stop acting like a prat you’d be lucky to spend your life with her!” She ranted, glaring at him as best she could through her droopy eyelids.

“I agree with Angie, Y/n is obviously an exception because she’s simply too good for our resident fuckboy,” George added as you and Fred entered into some kind of staring contest.

Lee snatched the fire whiskey from your hand and took a quick shot, “Alright, alright calm down! Here is my professional commentary; Y/n is not included because Freddie dearest doesn’t know how to deal with feelings and, as we all know, Y/n is a whirlwind- in a good way of course- however Freddie can only think with his dick so he would only get lost in her current.”

“Oi!” Fred shouted indignantly, pouting childishly before hopping off his seat and shoved his twin away from you, he squeezed himself into the space beside you and looked at you seriously, his cheeks flushed due to, what you thought was, his intoxicated state, “You’re not included because you’re my best mate and I’ll spend the rest of my life with you anyway I just think, you know, romantically you're not my type...” That stung. The alcohol in your system wasn’t working nearly as hard as Angie’s as she was reaching across your body and smacking Fred across the chest clumsily before you could even fully digest his words.

“Fred-“ smack, “Weasley-“ smack, “You-“ smack, “Are-“ smack, “such a-“ smack, “Twat!” The slaps she delivered were weak and didn’t do much besides cause Fred to fall into a state of utter confusion, “Romantically you’re not my type,” you, George and Lee snickered at Angie’s imitation of Fred’s voice, while Fred continued to stare at Angelina with a lost expression as she went on, “So a loyal, trustworthy, considerate, girlfriend isn’t your type? Hm? Well good because just because you said that you can never ever have her because she’s mine!”

“Alright, Angie. I think it’s time for bed,” you mumbled through a laugh, she was always a combative drunk and you usually found it quite funny but you didn’t need anymore reminding that your hopeless crush really was hopeless. When you stood up you howled out a laugh when Angie hopped up behind you, still glaring at Fred she smacked your ass, slung her arm around your shoulder and slurred, “Yeah. Let’s go, sexy,” George and Lee fell into a fit of laughter as you led Angie towards the stairs.

“I love you girls!” George called through his laughter, Lee hummed in agreement.

“Love you, Georgie. Love you, Lee!” You replied.

“I love you too!” Angie shouted over you.

Fred was still lost when you disappeared up the stairs with his, very drunk, teammate, “What the fuck just happened?”

“Your stupid ’Y/n is off limits’ rule has finally caught up to you. You’ve lost her to Angie.” George chuckled and Fred shoved him halfheartedly.

“Shut up. All that this proves is that I’m no good for her.” He said, bitterly taking a swig from the bottle in his hands. It was no secret to either of the boys that Fred was head over heels for you. He would’ve followed you anywhere, however, it seemed as though every time he spoke to you the less he even knew what he was trying to say; take that night as an example. You were exactly his type. In every way. But Lee was right when he said Fred wasn’t good at dealing with his emotions, whereas you seemed to hold an ocean of feelings and insights to life that Fred would actively drown in if he could.

“She likes you Fred, you know how she is when she wants something. Tell her no, she’ll only come back stronger. She’ll crack you eventually, ‘specially with Angie in her corner,” George informed his brother, reminding him of your unmatched determination.

True enough, you had always played to win and often did everything in your power to complete a challenge and come out on top. Fred wasn’t an idiot, he knew you fancied him, he fancied you too, who wouldn’t? But there were times that he’d be with you and this feeling of home would wash over him- he couldn’t risk losing you or that feeling you brought about, he’d be completely hollow. Besides, chasing girls who reminded him of you would keep him satisfied for the time being, surely. Surely not apparently.

George was right when he said you wouldn’t give up, in the last few days Fred found himself wishing you were his and he just knew you were doing things to make him crazy on purpose. You were, of course. He couldn’t deny that you were a force of nature all on your own, but wow, you were indeed a whirlwind when you acted with intention.

It had started with fleeting touches whenever you were close enough to achieve it. Gentle brushes of your fingertips against his while you walked alongside each other in the halls, quickly progressed into your hand gripping his bicep every time you spoke to him, then onto biting your lip whenever you were aware of his gaze. Ignoring the growing frustration within him only grew harder when you’d approach him, like clockwork, each night before he’d get busy with whoever it happened to be that night. You’d casually brush your hand down his arm, pull your lip between your teeth, wink and tell him to, “have fun”, and he would, purely because he’d have that image of you seared into his head the entire time.

Playing dirty was never something Fred would normally get on board with, however, the second he noticed you lapping up the attention you were receiving from one of the, admittedly handsome, Ravenclaw boys; Fred decided that you were in fact the one prize he’d cheat to win.

“Fuck this,” he’d muttered, causing his twin to raise an eyebrow at him. They’d only just sat down for breakfast yet Fred was already cursing out the day.

Ginny had heard him too, the youngest Weasley gave Fred a bored look, “What’s wrong with you?”

Fred let out an agitated huff through his nose, glaring menacingly at the tall brunette boy, who was sitting far too close to you for Fred’s liking. George’s laugh broke him out of his trance and he heard his brother snicker out a sarcastic, “So the penny’s finally dropped, has it?”

“Piss off, George,” Fred grumbled, his lips forming a scowly as the boy placed his hand on your knee under the table.

“For Merlin’s sake, Fred. Would you just ask her out already? I’m sick of you,” Ginny complained, Fred was her brother and she loved him but this? This was ridiculous.

“Rude, Gins. You better watch it or I’ll tell mum you’re misbehaving,” Fred joked, halfheartedly while Ginny raised a challenging eyebrow.

“Try it, Fred. I’ll tell her that you’re being a git and ruining her chances of having Y/n as a daughter-in-law.” Ginny threatened. Fred shook his head, determination flooding his body.

He stood from his spot hastily, and all but marched up to you and the boy who currently occupied your attention, “Oi, can I steal you for a minute, love?” Before you could even answer, you were being pulled from your seat by Fred’s strong grip on your hand.

The boy pulled you along until you were out of earshot of the Great Hall and away from the prying eyes of the nosy student body.

“Can I help you, Freddie?” You asked sweetly, too sweetly.

Fred’s hands slid against your sides before settling contently on your waist, he shook his head in disbelief as he spoke, “You’re something else, do you know that?”

Butterflies rumbled in your stomach in response to his newfound proximity and burning gaze. It took everything in you to bite back a triumphant yell as you managed a wicked grin. “What I am is exactly your type, Fred Weasley.”

“You’re bloody right you are,” he muttered, impatient desire fuelling him as he brought his lips to yours, tugging you closer by the waist and kissing you with so much desperation that you were starting to think snogging Fred Weasley wasn’t as open and shut as you’d previously thought.

#fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #weasley twins x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine

[hillbillyoracle]

My Complicated Feelings on Waking Witcblr

I've been posting less on Tumblr as I try to figure out what direction I want to take my work. It became pretty clear to me at the end of last year that I wasn't putting out as much work that I was proud of and didn't really know where to go next. It seems like a lot of folks were going through a similar reevaluation as I saw less and less of blogs I really loved.

I've been seeing more Waking Wichblr content rolling across my dash and I've been having some really conflicted feelings on it. On the one hand, I understand the impulse and I love that folks are organizing around it. On the other, I think it fails to grapple with some deep issues the community has and a fallow period could be really fruitful. Let me explain.

Witchblr Hinges on Consumption, Not Conversation

As it currently stands, much of Witchblr hinges on consumption. People reblog things like they're collecting things. I feel like a lot of my pieces wind up being put on a shelf and not much happens with them. There's often not a lot of interaction when I post.

The conversations around pieces tend to happen on other platforms like Discord and y'all I cannot stand most Witchblr discords so I'm not privy to those conversations. I've noticed a marked drop in comments on my work over the last year. One of the reasons I started posting my work on Tumblr was to get feedback and as that's dropped off, I've turned my attention to longer form works. And the strange things is, I kind of get the same level of interaction. It's incentivized me to put more of my energy into creating workbooks, zines, and a support group.

I'm not mad about that at all. I feel very neutral about it. But it is a factor. If the conversation is going to take place away from where authors can benefit from hearing about it, the platform becomes less engaging and less valuable to those producing content.

Witchblr Often Wants to Consume With Paying

After watching several communities connected to Tumblr collapse because leadership got worn thin or didn't have enough money to keep it going on their own, I'm pretty jaded about how much a lot of folks actually want to keep the communities going.

Folks who genuinely don't have money - I'm not talking to you. You're great, you're doing what you can, you can skip this. But I am talking to folks who will drop $50-$100 on "witchcraft supplies" per month but balk at spending $5 to keep a server going on Mastadon or support a writer they love on Patreon.

It says a lot about what those folks value. Content, education, resources - those are expected to be free. Which means those of us who are trying to do it have to take time away from creating content to productize our work in hopes of making any money from it at all.

If there's one thing I wish Witchblr would take from Christianity, it's the concept of the tithe. Of setting aside a percentage of income each month to support the community. It doesn't have to be 10%, it can be 1% for all I care, but just that sense that its our duty as members of a spiritual community to monetarily support those who are following their calling of teaching.

Witchblr Needs to Stop Consuming and Start Documenting to Survive

I'm seeing calls to revive Witchblr by encouraging folks to make more posts which I think is an extremely bad idea. I've said this in other places but the big issue Witchblr has is that so many folks are new. And new people are trying to teach new people how to do things neither of them has much experience with. It's made Witchblr an echo chamber of people spouting the same lines with very little sourcing or evaluation. A lot of what gets passed around winds up being not very high quality.

So are new folks just supposed to lurk? Not at all. New folks can serve two super important roles that benefit everyone, experienced and new, can benefit from - documentation and curation.

For folks who are truly just starting out, documentation is hands down the most important and valuable thing you can offer the community. Do not instruct folks to do what you've done. Instead document what you tried, what sources you used, and whether it was successful or not successful and why. There's so much value in being an artful observer at any stage of development.

For folks who are a little more experienced but still new - hands down one of the best things you can do is the painstaking work of curation. People who make master posts of resources that helped them are gods I tell you. Shout people out. Boost the work that's helping you. It's invaluable.

Tumblr's Policies Have Driven Folks Away and They Will Again

I think it's important to remember that the one of the first mass exoduses of Witchblr blogs happened with the anti-sex media policies Tumblr instituted in 2018. Many people migrated onto their own platforms after the announcement was made in solidarity with people who would be put out of business or needlessly flagged because of the policies. Many of those independent blogs unfortunately petered out and I can't find many of those writers anywhere anymore. I'm still mourning that loss and miss them greatly.

For those who have the time and the spoons to do so, what I would love to see is a network that connects independent blogs with Tumblr blogs (if this is already happening, let me know). A roundup style blog that curates posts both on tumblr and off would be amazing. Without something that, we're likely to fall prey to more exits as Tumblr makes changes. There's always the chance that Tumblr could go away entirely! Having hubs that can connect folks with blogs that isn't entirely based on one platform would go a long way to keeping folks engaged in the long term.

If Witchblr Can't Figure These Things Out, A Fallow Period Could Be Great Actually

For folks who've not been through a community fallow period, this may seem like dire straights. I remember when I was seeing some of my favorite communities dwindle in 2010, I felt scared I was going to lose people I cared about and resources I depended on. But what wound up happening is that many of those communities survived. The people who were the most devoted kept coming back and contributing. Or they'd come back when they could and leave when they couldn't.

People need time to process and practice all the information that's been given to them. If Witchblr does wind up winding down (again, because I've been on the platform since 2008, it's done this at least 3 or more times now) it will likely come with the added benefit of more people synthesizing the material they're reading, practicing it, and having genuinely valuable notes of their own to add. I think it could go a long way toward enriching the community.

I think of it a little like compost. Sometimes the community has to break down a little before it can be fertile ground again. It needs an off season. Even in parts of the world where the weather could technically support year round agriculture, there's a deep understanding that the ground needs to rest. So if Witchblr does slow down, don't fret. Keep practicing, keep processing. And then, when you're ready, tell us about it.

Conclusion

These are just some thoughts I've had knocking around and wanted to get out in words. They're a bit messy but I wanted to see if they resonated with anyone else. Communities are cyclical. Low periods are needed and helpful. They tend to kick back in pretty organically if the foundation is laid properly (and even when it's not). I hope folks are well out there!

#witchblr #witch #waking witchblr #witchcraft community #tarotblr #tarot

[let-me-write-shit]

Somebody To You: 6

Friendly reminder to please Like and/or Reblog. It helps more than you think! :)

This chapter is more of a filler, but it’s got some really important details in it.

Word Count: 2,857

Click Here For Previous Chapter & Other Completed Stories

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CHAPTER SIX

It’s been a long two weeks. Between work and friends, Zoey didn’t feel like she had any days off to relax. Ever since their double date, Brett and Zoey have been hanging out a lot more. It seemed like he was over practically every day to hang out with her and her roommates. He’d occasionally come over before his shift started, but more often than not it was late at night after she got off to have a game night, and Nancy and Rory would wait up for them to join. The girls quickly became fond of him and formed a friendship much like hers with Harry.

They were all constantly making plans to hang out, and although she had so much fun with them, Zoey felt like she rarely had a moment to herself anymore. The only time she felt like she had a minute to breathe or think was her morning phone calls with Harry. Sure, they texted occasionally throughout the day, but that phone call was the time when both of them could sit down, talk, and reflect on what was going on in their lives. 

Harry seemed to be going through a rough patch. She missed him before he left the last time he came out as he had to be up super early the following morning so he didn’t miss his flight, but he did call Zoey when he landed to fill her in on the details of the conversation she caught him and Rory having.

Rory was honest with him and told him how she felt. She liked him, but she didn’t want to be with someone who wasn’t sure if they wanted to be with her. She understood his hesitation because of his past experiences with relationships while on tour, but she didn’t appreciate being grouped in the same category with his exes. She told Harry that she had no problem waiting if that’s what he wanted, but only if he was sure he wanted her. Otherwise, he’s just wasting her time. 

“I’m not giving you an ultimatum or making you choose right this second because that’s not fair,” Rory said to him, “I’ll give you some space and time to figure it out. We can still talk and be friendly in the meantime, but I’m not going to wait forever.”

No one could fault her, and Zoey respected the hell out of her for standing her ground and noticing her own self-worth, but Harry was really struggling to decide what he wanted to do. To him, it wasn’t as simple as it was for most people. He has eyes on him at all times. Not only does he have to navigate the ups and downs of a relationship, but he has to do so in the public eye. He had to find a way to protect the sanctity of his relationship from the press and people with malicious intent and he had to somehow find a way to shield his partner from negative media and online attention because the hate is inevitable. To him, relationships were terrifying.

Zoey helped by listening to his rants and concerns, offering bits of advice, but always remaining neutral. No matter how many times Harry asked her what he should do, Zoey refused, telling him it was his decision to make while always reminding him to stop overthinking everything and to live the life he wanted without worrying about what might go wrong. Easy for her to say. She’s not famous.

Luckily, Rory kept her word in not putting any pressure on him to make a decision. They still spoke and flirted every now and then, though it wasn’t as often as before. Most of their conversations these days consisted of work-related things or Rory filling him in on all of the fun she was having with the girls, Andy, and Brett. She was spending a lot more time with Zoey’s new friends, and from what Rory said, it sounded like Zoey was having a lot of sleepless nights with Brett.

Zoey’s sex life was never really a topic of discussion when they spoke. She never really went into detail or stayed on the subject no matter how much Harry tried to pry. Of course, he knew they saw each other, but the only reason he knew when Brett spent the night was because Nancy or Rory mentioned hanging out with him and how he stayed over. During their text conversations, Zoey always seemed so nonchalant and never alluded to the fact that Brett was even there. She didn’t care to talk about their ‘relationship’ much, and he couldn’t tell if it was because she was trying to hide the fact that she was actually falling for him, or because she really didn’t care and it was just as casual as she intended it to be. The only thing Harry managed to get out of her was that she wasn’t a fan of his kissing. Either way, she was great at keeping her private life private, which was something he respected, all things considered.

Finally, it was Friday, and the last week of May, so Andy, Brett, and Zoey decided to go to the beach early in the morning so they had enough time before work tonight. Nancy and Rory tagged along, for once not having any work they needed to do. The sun beamed brightly, not a cloud in sight. It was only 80 degrees. Not too hot, not too cold. It was the perfect beach day. Andy helped Zoey apply suntan lotion to her back as Nancy and Rory sprayed each other down and Brett didn’t bother, laying out everyone’s towels on the hot, golden sand beside their beach bags.

At first, the group stayed on their towels, letting the sun warm up their skin and adjust to the temperatures. Eventually, Nancy, Zoey, and Andy made their way to the water, leaving Brett and Rory to tan. They eased their way into the ocean until waist level, waves whipping at their hips. An hour in and they had gotten more comfortable, diving underwater, laughing as they pretended to be mermaids, screeching whenever seaweed brushed against their legs and sputtering as the salty water had gotten into their mouths. Rory and Brett had finally joined them, but it didn’t take long before they all headed back to their setup, letting the sun dry them off.

The beach had always been Zoey’s happy place. She had always been the happiest in the water. It’s why she was on the swim team in school and why she frequently slept at Jess’s house to enjoy her pool. Her parents used to call her their little fish when she was a kid because she could be in the water all day. Jess was the first to get her license, and every day off in the summer since Jess turned sixteen, she’d drive the two of them to the beach just for Zoey. It was nearly a three-hour drive just to get there. They’d be up and out the door by 6 AM just so they could be there by 9, and wouldn’t leave until long after the sun had set just to do it all over again the next day. Every now and then they’d get lucky enough to rent a hotel, but they never complained about the drive. It was worth it to Jess if it made Zoey happy. It became their tradition to see how many times they could make it down to the beach in one summer and if they could top it. It’s been a year since she’s been to the beach. And it’s just as amazing as she remembers it being.

Brett had brought a football and they all were tossing it around to each other in an unofficial game of football. Zoey screamed as he ran up, scooping her into his arms and tackling her into the sand, laughing as sand shot up into their face from the impact on the ground and covered their bodies. 

“Absolutely not! I saved that!” Zoey exclaimed, lightly smacking Brett’s sweaty, back as he pushed himself off of her.

“Tell that to the ball on the ground,” Brett shot back, panting and scooping a heaping pile of sand onto her stomach in retaliation causing Andy and Rory to laugh.

A ringtone was heard in the distance by their towels and Nancy called back, “Someone’s phone is ringing!” as she jogged towards their stuff, rummaging through the bags. She pulled out Zoey’s phone, looked at the screen and held it up, calling, “It’s Harry!”

“Answer it!” Zoey called back, standing up and dusting the sand off of herself.

Nancy plopped down on the towels as everyone slowly caught their breath, making their way over towards her. She answered the phone on speaker and put on her best stern voice, “How come you never call me?”

“Who’s this?” she heard Harry’s muffled voice from a few feet away, “Nancy?”

“I’m clearly Susan Sarandon. You can’t tell by my voice?” she joked as Andy, Brett, and Rory had sat around her, the rumble of voices and children laughing surrounding them.

Harry laughed, ignoring her, “That’s a lie. I just called you yesterday!”

“That’s true. What’s up?”

“Nothing much, going to be heading to soundcheck soon. Where’s Zoey?”

“Here!” Zoey called, finally reaching the edge of the towels, hovering over everyone.

“Where are you? It sounds loud?” Harry asked.

“We’re at the beach,” Nancy spoke, “Everyone’s here except you. Me, Zoey, Rory, Andy, and Brett.”

“Am I on speaker?”

“Yeah, say hi!”

The group sang a chorus of greetings while Harry responded an almost shy “hello” back. Zoey smiled, extending her hand out and grabbing her phone as Nancy passed it over to her. She placed it to her chest and turned to Brett, softly saying, “Hey, I’m getting hungry. Can you grab us some lunch? I’ll pay you back.”

“Yeah, no worries. I can pay. Anyone want to come with?”

“I’ll go!” Nancy offered, standing up.

“Yeah, I’ll help,” added Rory.

Andy scoffed, “My ass is staying right here. But I will take a slice of pepperoni pizza, please,” he slid his sunglasses back onto the bridge of his nose and slid back onto his beach chair.

As soon as the three were off, Zoey took her phone off speaker and brought it to her ear, walking towards the dunes where there were fewer people and it was slightly quieter. 

“Sorry, I’m here,” she spoke, “they’re gone.”

“No, it’s okay. I didn’t mean to interrupt. You can get back to them.”

“Shut up,” Zoey laughed, dragging her feet in the sand as she spoke, “What’s up?”

“We were going over the next few cities we’ll be in, and guess where I’ll be next weekend,” Harry said excitedly.

“New York?” Zoey guessed.

“Well, yeah. But I’ll also be in Philadelphia next Saturday.”

“Philly?” Zoey gasped, halting in her tracks, “You’ll be maybe twenty minutes from my family.”

“It’s that close? Where did you live?”

Zoey sat in the sand, knees to her chest, and told Harry about her hometown and where she grew up. She scooped sand in her free hand and watched as it fell to the ground like a sand shower as she recalled memories of her and Jess running around their town as teenagers and all of the trouble they got into. And Harry listened, interested in every detail. 

Somehow they got onto the subject of Zoey’s past childhood boyfriends, where she had her first kiss and her first heartbreak. This eventually led to a conversation about Brett. It’s not that she avoided talking about Brett, but there was nothing to really say about him. They hung out. They screwed. That was it for the most part. Except there was a little news about him this time.

“He asked me on another date,” Zoey informed him.

“What, a double date again?”

“No, one on one.”

Harry paused in thought before speaking, “I’m confused. I don’t get what’s going on between you two.”

Zoey laughed, “I don’t either.”

He continued, “I mean, you say it’s just a casual thing. Hanging out and fucking around. So what’s the point in going on a date if that’s all it is? Or is it more than that?”

Zoey pursed her lips and blew hard, making a horse snorting sound before groaning and resting her head on her forearm that was resting on her knees, “I don’t know. I don’t think it’s more than that, but it seems like it’s getting more serious. I mean he stays over so often we should start charging him rent. I feel like I see him more than Nancy and Rory between work and home.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Harry asked, curiously.

“I don’t know,” she whined, sitting back up, “The girls love him and he’s a lot of fun. And he’s getting better at the kissing thing. I mean, don’t get me wrong, there’s still work to do, but he gets the job done if you know what I mean. Oh my god, speaking of,” Zoey started cackling to herself, “we got caught yesterday.”

“What do you mean ‘you got caught’?” Harry chuckled at the vagueness.

“At work.”

“At work?!” Harry repeated, the sound of shuffling could be heard from his end as if he had quickly sprung up from a seat.

She nodded to herself, wiping away a tear that teetered at the corner of her eye, which was probably a mistake because she now felt sand on her cheek, remembering the incident last night.

“Oh shit! My bad!” Andy apologized to her, shoving the beer bottles he carried into the crook of her arm and wiping at the wet spot he had left on Zoey’s black shirt when he collided into her after she suddenly appeared from the storage closet.  “I was looking for you. You alright? You look like you’ve been crying.” He asked, noticing her flushed face and loose strands of hair dangling from her messy bun.

The storage closet door suddenly opened beside them and Brett stepped out, forehead beaded with sweat, hair tousled, lips red raw, straightening out his shirt. Brett paused when he saw the two standing there, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Andy’s eyes shot between the two as realization sunk in and he groaned.

“Jesus Christ!” Andy whispered, “Y'all are nasty!”

Brett chuckled and winks as he scooted past them, returning to the busy bar to finish off his shift.

“Sorry, Andy!” Zoey sheepishly smiled, biting her lip.

Andy shook his head, laughing in amusement, “At least one of us has a good sex life. Fix your hair. You look crazy,” he walked away.

Zoey shook her head, snapping back to the present and she chortled, trying to stifle her laughter as she looked over to see all of her friends back on the towels and enjoying their lunch together. 

“It was just a quickie in the storage closet, but we ran into Andy on the way out and it was super embarrassing. I mean, at least it was just Andy and not our manager, but still,” she explained.

“You couldn’t wait a few hours?” Harry laughed.

Zoey giggled, “You gotta do what you gotta do.”

The two finished catching up and Zoey wished him good luck before ending the phone call and heading back to her friends. There was a slight burning feeling on her shoulder blade as the suntan lotion began to wear off and knew she’d have a sunburn tonight. She tossed her phone back in the beach bag and took a spot between Nancy and Rory while the group had laughed about something Andy had said. 

Andy looked over at Zoey and smiled at her grin, “You and Harry talk a lot,” he noted.

“Yeah,” Zoey nodded, picking up her slice of pizza that had now cooled down, though had a little dusting of sand on the top, “We’ve been through a lot of similar situations, so it’s easy to talk to him about it.”

Andy nodded, understandingly, being the only one that knew of Jess. Aurora nodded in agreement, “I like how quickly our little friend group formed and how well we all get along.”

Nancy laughed, “Could you imagine we all hated each other?”

“Imagine them thinking I don’t hate them,” Andy joked, turning towards Zoey and scoffing which caused Nancy to pounce on him. 

This caused an all-out war and Zoey laughed as Nancy chased Andy towards the water and Brett had practically dragged Rory behind them, letting Zoey finish her lunch, happy to be with friends. But she couldn’t help to feel that pang of sadness as she thought about how much Jess would have loved to be apart of this, too. 

The realization hit, nearly knocking the wind out of her. In just over a week it would be Jess’s birthday. The one year anniversary of her best friend’s death. And the happiness she felt just moments before was replaced with gloom. How was she going to manage this?

KEEP READING

#Harry Styles #Harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #one direction #one direction smut #one direction imagine #one direction fanfic

[izzy-b-hands]

Too Much Blues

Gotta be honest, no idea what this is. I wanted to write, I put on some music and did some jumping around Spotify, and now here this is. I’ve been writing for like three hours and it somehow got dark around me, idk when that happened. 

Not sure if this really qualifies as angst? It isn’t happy, but it isn’t like overwhelmingly sad for Eugene or Snafu either. Y’all will have to let me know I guess. 

Title is from the song by James Booker which I have linked there on his name because I recently discovered him, and he is absolutely wonderful, and deserves more people listening to his music. After you read this, give him a listen. He’s Freddie levels of amazing piano playing, and sings so strongly it transports you. I can’t believe I didn’t know of him until now, and I wish I had sooner. 

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

The taste of blood on his tongue wasn’t unfamiliar, but it was unwelcome. 

The alley he was laying in wasn’t cold, thanks to the August heat, but it was wet. Rain poured, sluicing off of the rooftops as fast as it could fall from the clouds. 

He wouldn’t admit that this had been a bad idea though. Not yet. It would have to get a lot worse for that. 

Eugene had thought it was a bad idea from the start. 

“You can’t win the money we need by gambling. The math doesn’t pan out-” 

“I’m lucky,” Snafu had told him, accompanying it with a kiss. “I can win us a thousand dollars, easy. Give me the weekend in New Orleans, let me hit up the old haunts, and I’ll have it. I promise.” 

“At least let me go with you,” Eugene had begged as he had watched him pack. “For safety’s sake.” 

“I used to live there, Gene. The city isn’t any more unsafe than anywhere else anyway. Besides what else are we gonna do?” 

Eugene hadn’t had an answer for that, and neither did Snafu for that matter. It was purely bad luck and bad timing, that two of the cats had needed the vet, that Eugene had busted his arm trying to help repair part of the roof after a particularly bad hailstorm fucked it all the way up, that another storm had hit after that and done such damage that they had to hire someone to come fix it up instead of trying to do it themselves, that the break in Eugene’s arm wasn’t healing well and required more visits to the doctor than previously expected. 

The first thousand they’d raised by selling off things from the house, one by one, first to the pawn shop in town, then by driving out of town to the pawn shops of neighboring towns until they had enough. Their house was slightly more bare (and missing some furniture) but it was worth it. Neither of them wanted to beg help from Eugene’s parents, or Sid and Mary. Not their debts, not their problem, was the agreed upon mantra. 

But the pawn shops didn’t want any more of their things, and to pay off the thousand now would drain their accounts. 

And Snafu had always enjoyed gambling. 

It wasn’t that he hadn’t anticipated this. You could get jumped in any city in the country, for any reason, he figured. 

This time, however, he wasn’t sure what the reason was. He’d lost more than he’d won, and the few hundred he had on him was still all present and accounted for. They’d beaten him to a pulp, and run, and that was that.

“Just bad luck,” he mumbled as he stood and staggered out of the alley. 

People traipsed past him without a care, some drunk, others just deep in conversation with those they walked beside, or taking in the scenery. The city had never chewed them up and spat them back out like it had him. Maybe other cities had, and this was their safe place. 

It had been his, once. And he wanted to believe it still was. 

But it was difficult, bloody and bruised, the rain seemingly never-ending as he finally dropped to the curb and sat. And he was tired. It had been hours finding any game he could, in any place he could, trying to win as much as possible. No booze like he might have had normally, this was too important not to stay sharp. 

But even that hadn’t done it. It was nearly Sunday morning, and Eugene would be expecting him back by Sunday night. It didn’t seem enough time, not nearly enough time. 

“You need a rest,” the man who had stopped in front of him said it not as a question, but as a fact. He wore a sharp suit, and looked just as tired as Snafu. 

“Don’t we all?” 

The man nodded. “I know a restful place.” 

He let the man help him up, and tried not to slow him as they made their way down the road to the nearest bar. 

“Needs some cleaning up,” the man said to the bartender, who nodded and came out from behind the bar with a rag and a small first aid kit. 

“I can pay you,” Snafu said, even though it hurt to say. Any money gone was less to bring home to Eugene, and he already could barely bear how little he would be bringing. 

“Nah,” the man replied. “How about a story instead?” 

“What about?” 

“Anything,” the man replied, watching as the bartender cleaned the cuts on Snafu’s face. “Lotta rings on them, hm?” 

Snafu winced at the antiseptic, and nodded. “What little I got to see of them before...well.” 

“Got everything you had before they took you down?” 

“Yeah,” Snafu replied. “Thankfully.” 

“How long you been away?” 

Snafu sighed. “Too long, maybe. I live in Alabama now, with my hu-” 

It came so naturally to say back at home, where he knew he was mostly safe, but he bit his tongue now, and held his breath as he watched the man’s reaction. 

“Your husband,” the man finished. “Okay. And you came back to town because...” 

“We need money,” Snafu admitted. “I was gonna win it for us. Some cards, whatever else I could find, you know.” 

“Just see what’s going on for the night, what you start winning at,” the man agreed. “You win all you need?” 

Snafu scoffed, and nodded his thanks to the bartender as he finished up. “I wish. Six hundred and some I got, but I need a thousand. I’ve got the rest of tonight, and most of tomorrow to get the last four hundred.” 

“Son,” the man said. “It’s already four in the morning on Sunday. How much luck you think you’re gonna find before you have to head home?” 

“Not enough,” Snafu muttered. “I can’t go back to him with just this.” 

The man nodded. “How well can you play?” 

“Play what?”

“Piano. I can tell by your hands, those fingers.” 

Snafu shrugged. He had been given lessons as a child, but hadn’t made much effort to keep up with them the older he got. And war didn’t exactly lend itself well to piano practice, what with no drops of pianos on the islands in the Pacific. 

“I’ve got to run and play at church myself,” the man said. “But my grandmother is at home, too sick in bed to go. She wants nothing more than to hear some of the music I’d be playing. If you can do even a song or two, it would mean the world. And I’ll give you that last four hundred.” 

He smirked. “Four hundred dollars to play piano for someone I don’t know? Pull the other one.” 

“Not at all,” the man said. “I give you my word, and my name.” 

“Your name?” 

“Names are power,” the man replied. “Call me Jim. You?” 

“Snafu.” 

Jim grinned. “That ain’t your real name, but Jim ain’t my real name either, so fair enough. Come on then, and I’ll take you to her. Play for the next few hours, and the money is yours.” 

Jim led out of the bar with only a wave to the bartender, who seemed nonplussed by all of it, and called them a cab. It drove them from the Quarter to Metairie quickly, to a small white house with blue trim. 

Jim didn’t introduce him to the elderly woman who was tucked into the small twin bed in the living room, only said a few words to her, and gestured Snafu to the piano near it, then left. 

He settled onto the bench, and let his fingers rest uncertainly on the keys. 

“Can you play me something about losing?” the woman’s voice was soft, but scratched with the effort of being brought forth. 

“I know about losing,” Snafu murmured, and patted the wad of bills in his pocket before starting in on St. Jame’s Infirmary Blues. It was one of the few songs he could remember well, though it certainly didn’t fit the bill of a ‘church song.’ “Though you wanted something from your church though? That’s what Jim told me.” 

“Jim? Is that what he’s having you call him? Well, he is a sweetheart, but he doesn’t need to know what I have you play,” the woman replied. “I like this one.” 

It wasn’t a particularly long song, but he let his fingers play on the keys, adding into it, until she hummed discontentedly. 

“What else do you know?” 

“More blues?” Snafu winced. “Mostly remember what folks around here play, what I heard before I left, what I heard now walkin’ the streets. Think I could replicate some of it-” 

“Don’t talk it over till it falls apart,” the woman interrupted gently. “Just play. I trust you.” 

He searched his mind for the chords, the melodies, letting them fall into place, then playing about with them. He didn’t worry about perfectly matching what he could recall in his head; she hummed happily each time he did his own variations. 

There was a clock on the wall, but he paid it no mind, until Jim came back inside. 

He motioned for Snafu to continue playing, then stepped up to the bed, kneeling down to the woman. 

“Thank you,” he said softly. “She’s smiling. How she always wanted to go.” 

Snafu stopped short, and nearly tripped running out from behind the piano. “Is she-” 

“She kept telling us it would be today, and she’s not often wrong about anything,” Jim chuckled. “Thank you for your kindness, and your help. If I couldn’t be here, I’m glad you could be.” 

“You don’t know me,” Snafu couldn’t help but murmur. 

“You’re a son of the city, and I bet you had a grandmother sweet as mine that you once played for.” 

“Something like that,” Snafu said, and pushed the memories back down. 

“That’s enough. Don’t need to know everything about someone to be kind to them, to do the most basic human act of creating something to make them happy, to ease them in a time of suffering. And I knew you could and would do that for her.” 

Jim handed him a bundle of bills. “Count it if you like; I don’t blame you if you do. But it’s all there. Four hundred, plus an extra hundred in case you run into trouble on the way home.” 

Snafu took the bundle with shaking hands. “Thank you. Is there...” 

“You’ve done everything we needed you to,” Jim interrupted, a soft and sad smile on his face. “You get home to your husband, and take care of your debts. Be well. Maybe we’ll find each other again, should you come back. Bring your husband this time, and we’ll all share a drink.” 

“You sound so certain that I’ll be back,” Snafu said. 

“Because you will be,” Jim said matter-of-factly. “A visit to one home, from another. Because the city is always home to you, even if you forget that once you go. But places never forget the children that grew up in their streets. Their pain and their happiness and their sadness. She’ll remember this particular sadness, and the pain you met here this time. And be ready to comfort you to make up for it, the next time you come home.” 

He left the house, and found a cab waiting for him outside. The ride to the train station was a bit longer than the ride to the house had been, and he considered using it to count the bills Jim had given him. 

But he didn’t. Somehow, in his gut, he knew there was no need. 

He didn’t on the train ride back either. Instead, he slept, the most he had slept since getting to New Orleans. 

At the station, he called Eugene. 

“I’ve got enough. More than enough.” 

He hung up before Eugene could ask any questions, and settled onto a bench outside the station to wait for him. 

The taste of blood on his tongue, as he chewed at his lower lip anxiously, was not unfamiliar, or unwelcome. 

The iron tasted like life, whatever remained of his, of Eugene’s. 

He wondered if there would be music at the end, for them. 

#text post #LeeH writes #Sledgefu

[alfred-braginsky]

Prompt request from an ask that was sent sosososo long ago, I apologize for the delay, but I filled both of them! 

"The food looks great but.. There’s something much more delicious i’d like to eat right now. ” & “Shut up and kiss me already. ” It took a long time to finish this up, but with the quarantine I have a lot more time since my job is having me work from home. I reblogged a series of prompts , pls feel free to shoot me an ask!

Summary: [N] // [s] // [F] // [w]  

Prompt request from tumblr. Takes place during the Yalta Conference and Alfred can't help but think about how good Ivan looks in his uniform.

|| Ao3 Link ||

+++++

The meeting dragged. It was all formality, well, for the nations at least. Arthur, Alfred, and Ivan were standing behind their seated bosses on an elevated stage with simple chairs. The world had their eyes on them. Victors of the second World War was no simple feat. The nations present on stage were dressed in their complete uniform and standing more as representatives of their nation than to have any say of what happens now.

Churchill was on the far left with Arthur standing stiff and upright behind him. Alfred resisted the urge to roll his eyes, the guy always took this shit too seriously.

‘You’d think after a few centuries he’d stop giving a shit.’

Alfred was in the middle behind Eisenhower, and to the right Stalin with Ivan towering from behind. He always liked Ivan. The man was difficult to get along with, but the two have found a mutual respect for one another. The sun was setting on the former empires that formerly ran the world; Arthur was losing his speed along with Francis and Antonio. Their legacy was starting to become overshadowed by the superpowers Alfred and Ivan were growing into.

Alfred tried so hard not to fall asleep at all the questions and discussions. He looked for anything that could possibly entertain and distract him.

"Pstt, hey, Artie."

"Piss off, Alfred. We're at a very important conference and I will not let you drag me into whatever embarrassing antics you have planned." Arthur had gritted out at him quietly beside him. Alfred huffed. Gentleman his ass, this guy has always been a prick with a stick up his ass.

Fuck, he was so bored. His eyes roamed over the audience. Boring diplomats and hungry journalist. Whatever. His eyes land on the other nation on the stage with him. Ivan. Specifically, his uniform. The way it clung to his body, those strong thighs and broad shoulders. Ivan had his eyes closed with the typical off-putting smile on his lips. He was sure that he could stare witho-

"Is there something wrong with your eyes or do you need me to help you fix them?"

Hot damn and that attitude. Ivan was practically one of the few people who could stand up to him and actually have the brawn to go toe-to-toe with him. Probably pin him against the wall, gloved hand pressed tightly against his throat. Literally breathtaking.

"Nah, just looking is all."

Almost immediately, Ivan replies.

"Looking for what?"  

Alfred wonders how far he could push the taller man. He wants to know what makes him tick, what pisses him off, what brings him to the breaking point. He wants to see those gorgeous violet eyes lit with rage.

"None of your business." there's a sly grin that curls onto his lips.

Ivan's eyes crack open his smile never faltering, his stance perfectly still as if nothing was wrong. Alfred felt the chill down his spine and the twitch of his dick. Holy shit. Excitement bubbling in his stomach. The flash of the cameras brought him back to reality, his grin dying down to a neutral expression.

Ivan added nothing more to the conversation, and once again Alfred was bored and left to his own thoughts.

+++

“The food looks great but.. there’s something much more delicious I’d like to eat right now.” Alfred grinned deviously at the man next to him his voice low enough so that only the two of them could hear the lewd comments he made.

"People often forget Francis had a hand in your development, but at moments like these it's hard to miss." Ivan stopped mid bite at Alfred's statement.

"He speaks." cracking a satisfied grin at finally being able to catch Ivan's attention.

"Merely responding to your childish methods of seduction."

"I think you find it amusing, otherwise you wouldn't have said anything."

Their conversation was once again cut short as they remembered they are in the public eye, and their conversations were being closely monitored by anyone sitting nearby. However, that's what made this little game fun. Danger was part of their foreplay. The thought of someone finding them made their release that much sweeter.

Dinner had ended on a positive note and they were free to enjoy the band playing. People got up to dance and socialize in the same boring fashion Alfred’s seen them do it for centuries. Alfred's eyes always ended up back on Ivan. Their eyes lock through the crowd. That was it. They didn't need any other indication of what it is they both wanted in that moment.

Alfred got up from his seat, politely excusing himself to the others at the table. He headed into the crowd of people mingling with one another and dipped into a hallway, away from the noise of people with more power than they know what to do with. He's been in this building before, if he recalls correctly, he knew exactly which room Ivan took him to last time.

He waited about 20 minutes before he heard a knock on the door. Alfred continued to lean against the windows towards the end of the room. This room is a meeting hall, with a large wooden table, windows that spanned half the wall, and paintings of people he's only ever met once.

Ivan entered the dimly lit room and spotted Alfred leaning against the windowsill. Ivan’s breath caught in his throat as he saw the moonlight hit Alfred’s skin.  

"I did not think you were capable of simply sitting here and doing nothing."

"I wasn't just doing nothing; my imagination was running pretty wild."

"I won't ask about what because I truly do not wish to know."

"I wasn't gonna tell you anyways."

"Childish response, as always."

"If you're so annoyed, the door is right there."

"Do you ever stop talking?" Ivan had a hint of annoyance in his voice. The man irritated him so, but he adored that about him. He wasn’t afraid of Ivan even when the rest of the world coward. With each step he could see more and more of his features. It’s been so long. He didn’t bother to lock the door.

"Nope. But you know how to shut me up for awhile."

Ivan rolled his eyes; he and Alfred were practically inches away from one another. The moonlight shined against his eyes making them appear like those stars they used to gaze at so many years ago.

"Why must I always take initiative?"

Alfred simply stared at him.

"This an unfair amount of power imbalanc---

"Shut up and kiss me already!" Alfred cut Ivan off yanking him closer by the lapels of his coat. Alfred becoming more and more impatient, a firm look taking hold in his eyes.

Ivan held Alfred’s face in his gloved hands and roughly pulled him to an aggressive kiss as he slammed him against the wall behind them. Alfred let out a growl that released from the back of his throat and quickly ran his hand through Ivan’s silver locks, gripping tight.

Their kisses were not tender or soft, they held a roughness they knew either could endure. Their grunts, teeth, harsh sucking and shuffling of their uniforms were the only sounds in the large room. They couldn't take their time, and so Alfred made quick work of their belts as their mouths locked together. Alfred was fully erect, while Ivan semi-hard against his thigh. Ivan’s uniform really did things to him.

"Been wanting you to touch me since this thing started."  Alfred panted out breathlessly between each harsh kiss.

Ivan broke their series of kisses as he took both of their exposed cocks and pressed them together, causing them both to let out a noise of pleasure.

"You need to do better to hide your desires."

Alfred bucked his hips as Ivan stroked their slicked cocks. Alfred's breath hitched as he heard Ivan's sharp intake of air. The man was trying hard to be quiet because of where they were, but he was clearly having trouble doing so.

The shorter of the two was also having trouble keeping quiet with each firm stroke to his cock. He bit down into Ivan's shoulder and let out muffled moans into the fabric of his dark blue uniform. The fingers of his free hand dug into Ivan’s scalp while rolling his hips to the movements of the other man’s hand.

Ivan thumbs Alfred's slick slit making the other man shudder. White teeth bit into the tip of Ivan's glove as Alfred slid it off his hand. Blue eyes never let the violet ones across from him. Nothing but the sounds of pants and slick squelches. Nothing but hot breath dancing on their sensitive skin.

Alfred was the first to cum and finished Ivan off with his mouth. Sliding onto his knees and between Ivan’s thighs, Alfred licked the precum off the other man’s cock taking him completely into his mouth. The tip of his cock hit the back of his throat as he breathed in the familiar scent through his nostrils. Bobbing his head back and forth Ivan held tight onto Alfred’s hair to keep himself from bucking into his mouth.

Alfred pulled Ivan’s cock from his warm mouth, flicking his eyes up at Ivan, who looked flushed and like he was in utter bliss.

“Fuck my mouth.” His tone dropping to show the seriousness of his request. Ivan didn’t argue. He knew what the other man could take. Taking him back in Ivan slammed into Alfred’s mouth and down his throat. Alfred gurgled out a moan as Ivan sighed in pleasure. He moved Alfred head up and down and meeting them halfway with thrusts of his hips. Tears welled in Alfred’s eyes as with each thrust but the way he grabbed hold of Ivan’s ass meant he was having a good time. His thrusts sped up as the want to cum increased. Letting out a low growl, Ivan arched his back as he came deep inside Alfred’s throat. He pulled out once he caught his breath and joined Alfred on the floor.

“Are you alright?” concern lacing his voice as he brought out a handkerchief to wipe up Alfred’s mouth.

“Yeah.” His voice hoarse, but the slight smile on his lips convinced Ivan of his words taking the small gesture and wiping his lips.

“You go out first, I’ll see you there.”

“Of course.”

Both went their separate ways, and Alfred was smiling like a cat who got the cream. He’ll been feeling Ivan’s cock in the back of his throat for a while, just enough to satisfy him for the next meeting.

#rusame #aph america #hws russia #hws america #hws #amerus #ficlet #ask #my shit

[occasionallyish--archive]

Escapade

H.Shinsou x S.Todoroki, H.Shinsou x I.Midoriya, S.Todoroki x I.Midoriya, I.Midoriya x O.Uraraka, and various hints to other ships

Warnings: Slow burn(?), unrequited love, brief breaking of the fourth wall lmao

Have been writing since 03/07/2019

Word count 2810

Reblogs > Likes, pleasepleaseplease–

Lengthiness under the cut!

xx/12/xxxx ; The afternoon ; Outside ; Hitoshi Shinsou

Hitoshi shuddered, hands instinctively reaching to cup over his mouth in some attempt to warm them through his thick gloves. He gave warm, drawn out breaths that helped to spare his lips from the almost burning cold, however otherwise, the gesture proved fruitless– Even more than the occasional, leafless trees that he passed. And so, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and gave a somewhat frustrated sigh that easily converted into Winter fog.

He hated almost everything about the season– Shivering in the snow, persistent carolers, and the pressure to buy gifts for people that he barely knew. At least he had the excuse to take a break from school and hide inside during the whole of said break.

Regardless, however, the purple-haired male was there: Walking through the snow, toward the mall– clad in two-and-a-half layers of clothing–, with the intent to buy a Christmas present for a bush.

Said bush's name was Izuku Midoriya, one of the famed former students of class 1-A who not only survived multiple villain attacks, but also managed to help get Hitoshi into the hero course. Maybe it wasn't the achievement that he was most recognized for, but it was the one that truly spoke of his sincerity and kindness, in Hitoshi's heart.

...So what if he had a crush? Izuku already obviously had his own on a certain brunette from 2-B, so he knew he didn't have any chance– Having fallen for a straight boy.

As he continued to walk, a bitter taste was left in Shinsou's mouth.

xx/12/xxxx ; The afternoon ; Commons room ; Shouto Todoroki

A gentle sigh flitted from between the heterochromatic boy's lips as he laid on the sofa in the commons room, scrolling through a website that he'd found on his phone. As if to loosen the tense feeling that only Shouto seemed to experience, he hummed to himself, searching through lists upon lists of gifts upon gifts.

And still, nothing.

He wanted to find the perfect gift– Something that conveyed his feelings to Izuku without needing to use words; Something unlike anything else that he had ever even seen; Something special and completely unique, made only for him. That was what Shouto wanted to give his classmate; That was what Shouto wanted to give to his favorite person;

That was what Shouto wanted to give to the boy that he loved. While he was aware that his feelings weren't returned, and while he was aware that they never would be, he was going to tell him, come Christmas. And, with their relationship becoming deafeningly awkward, he was going to ruin the holiday for everybody in class 2-A. And he'd run back to his mother, and cry, and hide from the rest of the world until somebody other than Enji would inherit the agency– And then he'd become a hero through that and never have to see the pro hero Deku, again. He could already see it happening.

The boy with bicolored hair blinked before shaking his head, turning to pick his dead phone back into his hands.

As he stood to charge the pocket-sized computer, a solemn, cold feeling spread throughout Todoroki's veins.

25/12/xxxx ; The morning ; Commons room ; Neito Monoma

Neito was somehow of the first up, slipping down the stairs to see a pajama-clad Tooru, Mina, and Denki. The electric blonde was sitting at the table, 'recharging' himself with some oatmeal topped with whipped cream and banana slices– A combination that the former 1-B student saw disgust in. Tooru and Mina, however, were sitting near their bad excuse of a Christmas tree– of course, bless Ibara for growing it for them, but she admitedly could've done much better–, snooping around to see who got the most presents and guessing what said presents were. And Monoma, of course, was going to be the one to put a stop to it.

"Ashido, Hagakure! Don't be so childish as to peek through the presents! While it is to be expected of you 1-A brats, those are saved for later when we're all up together!"

"Omigosh, Monoma, you're starting to sound like Iida–" Ashido's attention was immediately captured by the boy, albeit not for the reason that he'd been looking for. Monoma's frown grew.

"That isn't the point!–"

"Eh?... 'S too early for this..." An all-too-familiar voice complained tiredly, an open yawn sounding from the same direction. "...Why not be Christmasy 'n cheery 'n stuff, instead?" Hitoshi sounded half asleep, as he always was before his usual morning coffee– Bitter and black, as he often described his soul.

A steel-haired boy– having previously gone unnoticed– then gave his hum, sending a sunshine smile from the kitchen to his classmate, "Coffee's on the pot if you need some, Shin!" Tetsutetsu called, being one of the few 2-A students who could easily bear the early hours.

A thin, lazy smile found its way onto Hitoshi's face. "Perfect timing. Thanks."

25/12/xxxx ; The early afternoon ; Kitchen ; Momo Yaoyorozu

The bushy-haired boy hobbled downstairs with a yawn, fuzzy sock slipping at the bottom– But, of course, a tall ravenette was there to catch him.

"Good morning, Midoriya." The young woman called softly as she gripped his shoulders, easing him into more of an upright position. She chose not to comment on it, as based on the shorter's expression, the near incident was enough of a wake-up call. "Did you sleep well?"

"Um–" Izuku began as they headed toward the kitchen, still recovering from the split-second panic. "Y-yeah. I was really excited, last night, so I think I went to bed, too late, though..." His voice trailed off into more of a tired mumble, which was always adorable– Sometimes, Momo was convinced that she was surrounded by a litter of cute, rambunctious puppies and not the future's greatest heroes.

"Yes. I think that you're the last one up, actually." She commented matter-of-factly, reaching into a cupboard to retrieve a pouch of caffeinated tea. "Would you like some tea to help wake you up?" She asked before her friend had the chance to feel guilty.

Sometimes, Yaoyorozu very easily read her peers. More than just Izuku knew this, as he nodded with his "Mmhm, thank you."

25/12/xxxx ; The early afternoon ; Dorms ; Fumikage Tokoyami

Quite the diverse group was walking through the snow, making the short trek from class 2-B's dorm building to class 2-A's– Said group consisting of an explosive boy, a bubbly brunette, a horned blonde, and a bird-headed boy. Katsuki Bakugou and Ochako Uraraka were exchanging their comments, as the frenemies often did, while Fumikage Tokoyami and Pony Tsunotori kept to themselves.

That was fine, however, as the trip was short– It wasn't long before a sharp redhead was opening the door, laughing at something that his twin-like friend had said. "Come on in, guys!" Eijirou'd said between chuckles.

Of course, Fumikage gratefully accepted the invite to come in, happy to shed his thick scarf and jacket– Even if he enjoyed the cold, he could only take it to an extent. The crow-like boy made a point to leave his garments on the coat rack, for later, before perching onto one of the arms of a couch.

He only observed, for a time– How Ochako easily found her way toward Momo and Izuku, and how two other boys also seemed to be carefuly regarding the group. How Mina and Denki seemed to momentarily deflate when they'd been told their tape friend was celebrating off-campus. How festive Yuuga looked, with his Rudolph-inspired makeup and fake antlers. How Tooru and Nirengeki seemed to really enjoy decorating Ibara's head.

25/12/xxxx ; The afternoon ; Commons room ; Ochako Uraraka

Eventually, conversations around the sofas seemed to float toward Ochako's distaste with being separated from her previous classmates. "Yeah, I've gotten to know lots of great people in 2-B, but kinda miss sharing class with my friends from last year, y'know?" She'd pointed out, which had lit flares of passion in those such as Katsuki and Eijirou.

"I miss my friends, too." Izuku chimed in, at some point, which seemed to easily halt Ochako and Katsuki's oncoming argument. "But, I think it's just natural that we.. Mm, I don't know how to put it. Expand? But, also, well..." The green-haired boy paused, trying not to spiral into a moment of muttering. "And, we can all still see eachother, after classes." He pointed out with a smile, and that was that.

"Such is the way of life." Fumikage added as somewhat of a word of advice.

Ochako couldn't help but notice how Pony folded her hands in her lap, leaning back into the couch as her blank stare and almost wistful smile faced nobody in particular. "I have no idea what you just said." She commented, which did cause some giggles and snickers to sound around their sort of cirlce– Ochako's sweetly humored one, included.

25/12/xxxx ; The afternoon ; Commons room ; Eijirou Kirishima

Everybody who said they'd attend the gathering seemed to be there, and most importantly, everybody seemed to have relaxed. The faux-redhead gave a shark-toothed grin as he carefully slid a headband onto a blonde's head– Of course, as soon as said blonde felt it, his hand lifted for a deathgrip around Eijirou's wrist.

He was glad that his quirk easily resisted his friend.

"Can you guess which reindeer you are?" He gave suppressed giggles as Katsuki's grip lightened, hand soon dropping into his lap. It was nice that the explosive boy's temper seemed to have lengthened– Even if only somewhat, at least something had definitely changed between his first argument with Tenya, and now.

Katsuki shifted slightly, his expression more of a neutral sort of grumpy. "Rudolph?" He guessed the obvious one, an eyebrow raised.

"Nope! I'm pretty sure Aoyama's got that covered, haha."

"...None of the other names are important." The blonde mumbled lowly, head leaned back to ensure only the boy behind him heard that. It was his way of admitting that he had no clue what the other reindeer's names were.

"Blitzen–" Kirishima couldn't help bursting into laughter, and admittedly, a small smile did tug at Katsuki's lips. "Because– Y'know–" He tried to speak between laughs, as he imitated the sound of an explosion.

25/12/xxxx ; The late afternoon ; The kitchen ; Rikido Satou

"Hey– Where are Midoriya and Todoroki?" Rikido asked, just about finished with handing out his festive sugar cookies– Only a little candycane and bushel of holly were left. He set his tray onto the counter as he glanced around the kitchen, no Izuku nor Shouto in sight.

"I saw them head for the elevators," Ochako chimed in, finding her seat atop the corner of the table. "Maybe Deku's giving Todoroki another present? Or– Y'know, the other way around?"

It made sense– Not long after the bushy-haired shounen protagonist had woken up, the group took their turns around the tree to hand out gifts. While they both received their abundance of presents, it'd seemed Shouto was still somewhat anticipatory, an emotion unlike his usually stoic self. Though the brunette gave a shrug, deciding to dismiss that detail, for the time being.

"Oh, well– Todoroki can reheat them, when he gets back, if they're cold by then."

25/12/xxxx ; The late afternoon ; The hall ; Mina Ashido

She didn't mean to eavesdrop, she swore to herself– She'd only been headed to the bathroom, when she'd overheard Izuku mentioning something about how much he loved something. And Mina, being the occasionally less-than-polite person that she was, couldn't help but to stick around, pressing her back to the wall and listening to two boys, around the corner.

"I'm glad– I wanted to make sure that my gift for you was special." She could tell that that was the deeper voice of Shouto, albeit uncharacteristically warm. And maybe Mina was somewhat upset that she didn't have the chance to know whatever the supposed special gift was, but she wasn't going to risk compromising her position in what sounded like a private moment.

"Well, thank you, Todoroki. I... I really appreciate you, y'know."

"And I–" Shouto cut himself off, though, and the pink girl physically recoiled as she realized that now was the moment that he'd finally be attempting a confession. She may not have been the most academically exemplary girl, but she'd been damned if she hadn't noticed every fleeting touch, every shy glance, every missed opportunity that her peppermint peer had suffered through.

She decided to walk away, though, keeping quiet as not to alert the boys. Part of her felt guilty, feeling as if she'd tainted the secrecy of the special interaction.

But as she stepped away, she did catch a quieter, forlorn phrase. "...You're my best friend, Izuku."

30/12/xxxx ; The morning ; Dorm room ; Kyouka Jirou

"The original is a lot less shitty." A certain Katsuki Bakugou commented gruffly, as the plumette experimented with her playlist. At current, she was playing some song called 'Hey There Delilah,' albeit sung in the Japanese that she knew, as opposed to its originally English version.

Kyouka raised a brow, ony briefly letting her attention flit toward the other. "Sure, but none of us can really understand the lyrics." She spoke nonchalantly, pushing herself up to fiddle with one of the speakers that Momo had previously helped her set up.

Katsuki gave his little "Tch," as he turned away, mentioning something about how he had no problem understanding English. And knowing the overachiever, that was likely true, she figured as he left the conversation.

This year, part of class 2-A– and even some 2-B students– had decided that they would be staying at the dorms for the New Year, watching whatever festivities and celebrating behind the safety of their tv. As such, Kyouka, Momo, and an unexpected Katsuki had banded together in lieu of decking out the Heights Alliance, for the upcoming holiday.

They mostly spent time cleaning and setting up a dorm sound system, but if all went well, every second of effort was going to be worth it.

31/12/xxx ; Shortly before midnight ; The commons room ; Izuku Midoriya

His peers had really done well with decorating, Izuku acknowledged for the umpteenth time as he chose his spot beside Ochako. Admittedly, he's been set on confessing for a while now, but never quite found the courage to voice his feelings.

But that was okay, as he gently tapped the brunette on the shoulder– Her cheeks grew rosier than usual when she noticed his outstretched hand, taking it after only a second of overthinking.

Maybe he didn't need words, after all, because he already had a passion in his heart and what seemed to be reciprocated feelings. Their fingers intertwined as the television flashed, counting down to a moment that both anticipated dearly. And Izuku couldn't stifle his shy grin, watching tentatively as Ochako's attention flitted between his face and the brightly-colored screen.

Neither had to say anything. Not now. Not until the rest of the small group cheered "Zero!", and not until they shared a wonderfully perfect kiss.

01/01/xxxx ; Shortly after midnight ; The roof ; Hitoshi Shinsou & Shouto Todoroki

After that, Hitoshi found himself fleeing the scene. Of course, he knew that it was inevitable, but that didn't stop him from hurting as much as he did. He rode the elevator and then climbed the stairs, stopping only once he stood atop the roof.

Shouto couldn't help but trail the plumette up to the top of the building, masking his similar need to escape with curiosity and concern. Considering they were heroes-in-training, it had been unusually easy to do so, to slip out of the room and follow him. Almost concerningly so, as the bicolored boy paused to eye the other's silhouette– To anticipate his next move.

Now, he wasn't stupid. He knew that much as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the roof's railing. Hitoshi glanced over his shoulder to acknowledge the other's presence, sending a silent invitation to join him. With the way that he strode beside him, it was apparent that the youngest Todoroki was reluctant.

But neither had to say anything, for a long time. They simply stood beside one another, gazes focused on the moon or the sky or the city below them. Or maybe even one another. Shouto found comfort in this moment, but he did eventually break away, wanting to allow the plumette to mourn in peace.

But as the other turned, Shinsou reached and gently gripped his forearm. "Hey," his voice was smooth and gentle enough to coax Shouto back, to make him want to return to that moment. And he did, standing closer to his peer, now.

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #fanfiction #fanfic #rarepair #kiribaku #izuocha #shintodo #christmas #new year #ish original #ish writes #ish bnha #ish top

[nicole-lynne]

All The Love Songs - Chapter 2

Summary: Thea has a few strange interactions with Jake and she goes to the Greta Van Fleet concert. 

Pairings: Jake Kiszka x OFC (eventually) and Thea x Mason (OMC) 

Notes: I changed Thea’s nickname to Teddy so there is one change!  I hope you guys all love the story! Please like, comment, reblog, and follow ^_^ 

If there was a higher power in the world, they would strike her down with a very contagious flu that would require her to stay in bed for an undetermined amount of time. They would cause a blackout, an alien invasion, or a zombie outbreak. Any possible thing that would make it impossible for her to go to this show. 

Instead, Thea was trying on her twelfth outfit of the night, which was actually the first outfit she’d tried on. Her favorite black leather skirt paired with a maroon shirt with an embroidered rose on it for the band, adding her thigh high boots to the outfit for good measure. With her dark hair curled loosely down her back and her smokey makeup, the look was absolutely killer. 

So why did she feel completely self-conscious and nervous? During the most difficult time of her life, New York had become her safe haven. Her friends had become a harbor in a dark night. That feeling had been washed away with a single ten minute conversation with her ex boyfriend and the fear of having him step into her new world. 

There was a quick rap at the door and Sam popped his head in. He had his black leather pants on with a bright teal button up hanging open revealing his muscular chest. 

“Hey squirt, I was thinking it was almost time to head out.�� Looking you up and down, his eyes bugged out of his sockets. “Wow, you look stunning.” 

“Thanks, Sammy.” She looked down sheepishly. “Very classic look for a rockin’ show. It’s going to be a great night.” 

“I hope so. Josh said he thinks an agent might come so it would be great if something could come from that. I really want this to work...” 

Thea sank down onto her bed and pulled her feet under her, motioning for Sam to follow. It wasn’t very often that she had to give Sam a pep talk. Most days, he was a high-energy, optimistic person who could make her feel like nothing else in the world mattered. 

Today, she could see the doubt behind his brown eyes. 

“You’ve got amazing things in your future, Sammy. That agent would be an idiot if he passed you guys because Greta Van Fleet is the hot ticket. And just know that I’ll be there cheering you on every minute.” 

He patted her knee and shot her a thankful look, “I’m glad I’ve got you, squirt. Our shows wouldn’t be the same without your face in the front row.” 

Since the first show, Thea had always been front and center, cheering the loudest or being the only person in the crowd dancing. At first, people made fun of the spastic girl, but once Greta became a regular, more people started to see their potential. Pretty soon, the whole place was packed for their shows. But Sam still saved her a spot right at the front of the stage. 

“I would never miss a show, at least until you get rockstar famous and are playing like five shows a week. You might have to give me a break then.” 

“Nope, you have to be there. You’re my good luck charm.” 

“Sam!” Gina screeched from the kitchen. “Danny just called, we’re gonna be late!” 

Sam hissed through his teeth. “Oops, okay we better get down there before Danny shits a brick. That’s when you know it’s bad. You coming, tiny?” 

“I’m not sure if Gina is ready or not, can you wait for us?” 

“Sam!” 

“Uh, can you catch up to us? You know how particular Danny is about his pre-show meal.” Thea gave him an understanding smile and Sam jumped forward, kissing the top of her head before bounding out of the room like a golden retriever. The front door slammed and then it was dead quiet in the apartment. 

Gina appeared at the door, a dark purple tank top contrasting with her brown skin. In the darkness, she looked like a sunset on a winter day.

“Babe, you look fabulous! I love that purple color on you.” Thea gushed. “How did I manage to get such a snack for a bestie?” 

“Pure luck, I would guess.” Gina flipped her curls off shoulder theatrically then gestured for Thea to follow her to her room. “I need your help, I can’t decide on the black skinny jeans and boots or the matching purple skirt.” 

Thea circled Gina a few times, evaluating the options. “What about that black skirt you have with the zipper up the front? Then you add your grey booties and your crop leather jacket.” 

“This is why I keep you around.” Gina dropped to her knees and started digging through the bottom of her closet. “So are you ready for tonight?”

“Ehh...” 

“You’re definitely going to turn some heads tonight, you little firecracker. I guess the question is, whose head do you want to turn?”

Thea fell backwards onto Gina’s bed and stared up at the ceiling. “Can we just skip tonight and order take out?” 

“No, you’re avoiding the question. And besides, I do not look this good just to sit on the couch with you.” She lifted her head somewhat to see Gina putting the finishing touches on her outfit. “Now, let’s go before you chicken out like a pussy. All your men are going to be waiting on you.” 

It was now or never. Run and hide from an uncomfortable situation or walk straight into it like the boss that she knew she was. 

~~~

The girls entered the hole-in-the-wall italian restaurant and looked around for the group, finally spotting them at a table in the corner. Jake and Danny were yelling over each other while McKenzi, Danny’s girlfriend, tried to play referee to their argument. No one had noticed them yet. 

“All I’m saying is that you don’t have to practice your set at 3 in the morning, it’s ridiculous.” Jake’s hands were flailing around while Danny was shaking his head furiously. 

“If you can blast your music when you’ve got a girl back, then I can play the damn drums. Fair is fair.” Danny retorted, crossing his arms firmly. 

Beside her, Gina nudged her in the ribs but Thea just pretended she hadn’t heard that last part and cleared her throat, all eyes falling on her. 

“My bodacious babes, you both look dazzling!” Josh pronounced, knocking his chair back and motioned to the empty chairs.

Her first instinct was to sit in the chair next to Jake, but his attention was diverted to the glass in front of him, avoiding making eye contact at all costs. Rolling her eyes, Thea slid into the seat between Josh and Sam, across from Danny and McKenzi, letting Gina across from Jake. 

“So are you guys pumped for tonight? Tyler said it’s supposed to be the biggest crowd you’ve ever had.” 

“When did you talk to Tyler?” Sam asked quietly, only so Thea could hear. 

She raised an eyebrow, “Hmm, on Wednesday I think it was. I went by the bar after work and he was there. Why?” 

“I don’t like that guy. He hits on every girl who walks in there, it’s annoying-”

McKenzi tapped on the table, stopping whatever Sam was going to say next. “And why shouldn’t he hit on her? She looks hot! You’ll have to beat the guys off with a stick tonight.” 

A few seats down, Gina choked back a laugh into her water. Thea shot her a murderous glare and smiled at the girl. “Thanks, Kenz, you look amazing too. That fringe jacket is to die for.” McKenzi excitedly ran her fingers through the strings, making them dance in the air. The rest of the comment vanished into thin air. 

“Can we please get back to the matter at hand?” Josh’s voice boomed over everyone else. Thea shrunk her seat, unprepared for them to go back to discussing Jake’s love life being interrupted by drums. “The setlist for tonight is still undecided.”

 Oh thank god. 

The boys all launched into a discussion about which songs would be best in which order. It gave her the chance for her mind to wander. To think about if Mason and Declan had gotten the apartment, why Jake was avoiding eye-contact, what Mason might wear tonight, how drunk she wanted to get. 

A light tap on her shoulder brought her back to reality. “Hey, are you alright, tiny?”

“Yeah, I’m great. Just have some stuff on my mind, I guess I spaced out.” Her eyes flashed over to Jake, who was in the middle of a passionate discussion with Gina on the effects of music on mental and emotional health, before looking back down to the table.   

“Anything I can help with?” 

She patted his knee appreciatively, “not really, Sammy, but thank you.”

The best thing and worst thing about Sam was that he was an observer. In an instant, he could zero in on the smallest dip in someone’s mood. Most times, it was the thing she looked forward to at the end of a long day. However, when she was trying to keep a secret, it made things a lot more difficult. 

Thea nervously picked at a loose thread on the table cloth, praying that something would grab Sam’s attention, and thanking the lord when the waitress walked up to the table. The girl moved out of the aisle and squeezed in the small space by Jake’s chair, flashing him a flirty smile. 

“Hi, I’m Sienna. Have you guys decided what you’re in the mood for today?” She asked enthusiastically. The group all nodded at each other, agreeing that they were ready to order. “Well let’s start with you cutie.” Her hand was a feather on Jake’s shoulder and she leaned in close to him.

A giant pile of jealousy slammed onto Thea’s chest as she watched Jake return the waitresses smile from across the table. A vision played in her mind of sweeping her hand off his shoulder and then pulling him in for a kiss, making it clear that he was hers. 

“Ahem, T, it’s your turn.” Sam jostled her shoulder, startingly her. 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” frantically, she grabbed for the menu and scanned it, ignoring the feeling of Jake’s dark eyes boring a hole in her skull. At this very moment, she wished that a hole would open up and swallow her for eternity. 

“She’ll have the chicken fettuccine with no mushrooms and mix in little marinara sauce please.” 

Thea’s head snapped up to see Jake ordering for her. The waitress looked back at her and Thea slowly nodded her head indicating that was really what she wanted. Sienna gathered the menus in her arms and trudged off to the kitchen. All eyes at the table moved to look at Jake in complete confusion. 

Jake sat still for a second before shifting in his seat uneasily. “What?” He croaked out.

“Uh how did you know her order, dude?” Danny’s forehead crinkled. 

Jake stared at him blankly, “because it’s her favorite dish here? Even though she acts like she’s gonna get something new, she orders it every time.” 

On the inside, butterflies were flying around in Thea’s stomach at the thought that Jake had noticed her. He had noticed her in a way that wasn’t only meant to be physical. There was something that made him remember the things she ordered and her behaviors. She wanted to squeal and dance and jump around like a crazy person. 

On the outside, she was cool as a cucumber, instead just giving him a thankful smile and putting her attention on Josh, who had already begun telling his next dramatic story. 

This didn’t change anything. They were still just two people in the same friend group, nothing more. Nothing more to the public eye. 

~~~

“I’m gonna need a round of shots to make it through tonight.” Gina chuckled at Thea’s whiny tone. “And gin. Lots of gin.” 

“Alright, this round’s on me.” 

Elbowing her way past groups of people to the bar, Gina already looked completely done with the crowd. The entire place was packed wall-to-wall with people, all mingling with each other, creating a single hum of mixed voices. It was dimly lit, the only light coming from the few fixtures scattered on the walls. 

She’d spotted a few Greta Van Fleet shirts floating around, and for a second, she wondered if it would be possible to spot the agent or if they would blend right in with the sea of faces. 

“I swear to god, I will murder someone by the end of the night. It took so long for Tyler to even get to me. All those stupid girls were flocking around him like seagulls.” Gina huffed as she slammed the tray of drinks down on the table. 

Thea snatched a shot and downed it in one swift motion. The alcohol burned the back of her throat and sat warmly in her stomach. She reached for one more and shot it down quickly too, grabbing the gin and tonic to chase it down. 

“Dude, I need you to slow your roll.” Gina looked baffled.

“Sorry, G, that was just a weird dinner.” Her throat was on fire from the alcohol.

Gina took a shot of her own. “Yeah, what the hell was up with that? First he acted like you didn’t even exist and then he’s quoting your food order like it was a sonnet. Aren’t you guys supposed to be acting normal or something?”

“I have no clue what’s going on. I’m not usually in this type of position. I don’t know how to be friends with benefits with someone that I like-like but that someone doesn’t like-like me back.”

 “No one does. Because you’re not supposed to get in these situations when you like someone. It only leads to heartbreak.”

Thea pouted, “I didn’t intend on getting in this situation, jerk-” 

“Teddy! Gina!” Mason’s voice called from behind them and they turned in their chairs to see Mason and Declan weaving between the bodies. Impulsively, Thea grabbed another shot and slammed it down. Gina grumbled under her breath and moved to stand up, pulling Thea out of her seat too. 

She hugged Declan casually and stepped towards Mason, gulping as she looked up at him. Instead of his usual jean jacket, Mason had a red sports jacket on over his black hoodie. Damn he looked good, like always. He held out his arms and she stepped into them on instinct, her heart fluttering as he wrapped her in a strong hug. She inhaled the sweet scent of bergamot and cedarwood, the smell of the cologne he’d worn since she’d bought it for him in freshman year, and a slight hint of his favorite gum, winter mint. It was invigorating.

“Well, I had gotten us all shots, but T took yours, I’m sorry.” 

Mason laughed at Gina’s sour face, “it’s all good, G, I’ll just grab a couple beers. You guys want anything while I’m up there?” 

They all shook their heads no and sat back down while Mason disappeared into the crowd. Declan started joking about why they’d been late and the girls both started cackling at them getting lost. 

“How do you get lost? It’s a grid system, Dec!” Thea exclaimed zealously. 

From the side of the stage, Sam watched as Gina and Thea greeted two random guys with hugs. One guy headed towards the bar, but the other one planted himself right in between them. 

“What the fuck?” He muttered to himself. 

“What’s wrong?” Sam jumped at Jake’s voice behind him.

Looking away, he tried to pretend he hadn’t just been staring at the girls. “Uh, it’s nothing...”

“Samuel, just fucking tell me.” 

“I just didn’t realize that Gina and Thea had invited some friends to the show. It’s not a big deal.” 

Jake peeked around the corner, his eyes instantly finding Thea at her usual table just as a guy walked up behind her and squeezed her shoulder. She beamed as he sat down in the chair beside her and laid his arm across the back of her chair. 

Keeping his face neutral, he looked back at Sam. “The more the merrier, huh?” 

“Yeah, I just don’t recognize them...” 

“They’re probably just friends from work.” 

Sam sulked. “Do you think they could have boyfriends? They haven’t mentioned any guys to me, but you know girls, they’re weird as hell. All four of them look pretty chummy.” 

“I doubt it, dude. You live with them, I think you’d know if they were hooking up with people.” Jake shook Sam’s shoulder roughly, “don’t focus on that. Focus on melting these people’s faces off.” 

“Gentleman, the time is now!” Josh flourished his arms into the air and stepped out onto the stage. 

The crowd roared loudly as the rest of the lights dimmed, only the stage lit up. One by one, the guys followed after Josh. They were all dressed to the nines. Josh lit up the stage in his paper white jumpsuit, a little white feather earring dangling on the side of his head. Danny was wearing his favorite leather vest without a shirt. And Jake, he looked like a god tonight. He had a black jacket with beautiful gold emblems open over his bare chest. 

Without hesitation, Thea jumped up from her seat and walked toward the stage. She glanced back and saw the rest of them still sitting. “Aren’t you guys coming?” 

“I’m gonna sit back here for a bit, babe. I like being able to see the whole stage.” Gina called, clapping loudly. Mason’s eyes darted between Gina and then Declan before following after Thea. 

“Somehow, you still have me chasing after you.” He joked, nuding her shoulder.

She looked back at him and winked, “this will be worth it, trust me.” 

She rushed up to the center stage and waved at Sam excitedly. He nodded back at her just as Jake ripped into the first riff of Highway Tune. They shredded through the song and immediately went right into Edge of Darkness. This was her favorite song because Jake had a remarkable solo for almost five minutes. 

Once in a while, she would make a silly face at Sam but he ignored her every time. Her heart sank at the thought that maybe Jake had told him their secret. Her eyes drifted to watch Jake, his head was thrown back and his eyes were scrunched closed while he played the notes. 

“These guys are awesome! How did you say you know them?” Mason’s voice was right in her ear causing goosebumps to prickle across her skin. 

She leaned in a little bit and tilted her chin so he could hear her over the music. “They’re my best friends. Sam, the bass player, is me and Gina’s roommate.” 

Mason moved his head back and blinked in surprise. “They’re really good, that guitar player is fantastic.” 

“Yeah, he’s on fire tonight!” Thea bounced up and down just as Josh stepped back in to finish up the song. 

~~~ 

After an hour, the band finished their set and disappeared off to the side of the stage. Thea let out a deep breath, the adrenaline making her heart pound, and grinned up at Mason. She had forgotten that he was there after a while, being so focused on Greta playing a flawless set. 

Her eyes had constantly been changing from Sam, who had barely glanced at her the whole time, and Jake, who had been so focused on the songs that he had barely even looked up. 

“Come on, let’s head back to the table.” She stepped backwards towards the back of the bar. “What did you think?” 

“They’re great, they all seem to have real talent with their instruments. The singer-” 

“Josh.”

“Yeah, Josh, he’s amazing. His voice is so old school rock n’ roll. I love it.” 

They returned to the table just in time to hear Declan raving about how good the show had been. There was a small feeling of pride in Thea’s chest to know that her friends enjoyed the band. These were her guys and it felt good to see the reactions from newcomers. 

“Oh my gosh, they did amazing!” McKenzi shouted over the rest of the voices as she plopped down in an empty chair, looking completely dazed and her hair was flying all over the place. Gina leaned across the table and tried to tame some of her flyaways but it was a lost cause and they both started giggling. 

From across the room, Thea could see the boys breaking down their equipment. Every one of them was completely in sync, moving one way while someone else moved the other way. It was clear they were one unit and that’s why everything worked as well as it did. 

Danny finished putting away his bass drum and the group jumped down from the stage and crossed the room. Josh swept around the group and placed a kiss on top of Gina’s, McKenzi’s, and Thea’s heads lovingly - something he did after every show as part of his ritual as a way to thank all the positive spirits. 

Slipping into the chair next to McKenzi, Danny pulled her into a tight embrace, leaving splotches of sweat on her shirt. Behind them, Sam and Jake hovered back, both of them watching Mason and Declan with blank stares. Thea squirmed uncomfortably at the tension she felt was being directed right at her. 

“Ahem, guys, this is Declan and Mason, some friends from high school.” Gina finally spoke up. “Dec, Mas, this is Josh, Sam, Jake, Danny, and Danny’s girlfriend, McKenzi. Sam is mine and Thea’s other roommate.” 

Mason shook everyone’s hands as Gina introduced them and Thea cringed at the intensity that Sam squeezed his hand when it was his turn, but Mason just grinned like it hadn’t even phased him. He had never been one to back down from an awkward situation. 

Now that everyone had officially met, maybe the rest of the night could go off without a hitch, Thea prayed. She couldn’t keep herself from wondering what Jake might be thinking, he hadn’t looked at her once since the restaurant. 

“Are you guys gonna sit down?” Thea asked curiously. 

“I’ll be at the bar.” Jake replied tersely before bee-lining it away from the table. Thea’s lips parted in surprise before her eyes moved to look at Sam sadly. 

“Sammy?” 

“Ya know, I think I’m gonna get a drink too.” He replied bluntly. 

Thea glimpsed over at Gina desperately who gave her a half-hearted shrug in response. Both boys stood side-by-side at the bar, their shoulders filled with tension, and she so badly wanted to follow after them but it was clear they wanted some space. 

Her heart dropped slightly as she saw a girl saunter up to Jake and start flirting with him. Instantly, he had his charming smile on and was leaning in so he could hear her better. Thea could feel the tears burn her eyes but she blinked them away as quick as possible. 

“So,” Josh clapped his hands together loudly, “Mason and Declan, you guys went to highschool with our girls?” 

“Yep, since sixth grade. We were attached at the hip for most of it.” Declan said before taking a sip of his beer. “Mason and Teddy dated for like four years too.” He said and everyone’s eyes went wide. 

“Who’s Teddy?” McKenzi asked, her brows crinkled deeply. 

“Um, Thea? Ya know, short for Theadora.” Mason sounded a bit baffled. 

Danny chortled, “T, your name is Theadora?” 

“What of it, Wagner?” Thea hissed and Danny’s face went pale as he shrunk behind McKenzi’s shoulder, but she pushed him away from her. “Anyways, can we please move on from my hideous name, please?” 

“So, Mason, what kind of job do you have?” McKenzi intervened, clearly seeing how embarrassed Thea was feeling at the whole situation. One reason that Thea hoped Danny would never let that amazing woman walk out of his life.

Mason gave her appreciative smile for trying to divert the conversation. “Oh, I just started working for Atlantic Records Group as a talent agent.”

#Jake kiszka #jake kiszka gvf #greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka x oc #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fanfiction #greta van fleet story #fanfiction #original female character #nicole-lynnefics #all the love songs chapter two

[ohhelga]

Inspired by this post. This is the most I’ve written in a while, so I thought I’d create its own post, even though I reblogged and added the fic here

**

The first time it happens, it’s as if his heart is breaking. A traitorous human thing he doesn’t even technically need. But there it is, stuttering in his chest making him feel off kilter. Aziraphale can feel his eyes sting with unshed tears as he searches Crowley’s face. Crowley’s expression causes even more confusion and distress as he looks at Aziraphale with polite interest; nothing to suggest that the angel had just bared his soul, opened his heart and let words of love spill from his lips. Aziraphale staggers back a step as his breath catches and suddenly Crowley is in his space, catching onto his arm to steady him.

“You feeling okay there, Angel?” Crowley asks with concern.

Aziraphale is helpless. He just confessed his feelings, feelings he had buried deep within for such a long time. This all encompassing love that scorched his insides even as he attempted to suppress it. That would come unbidden, bubbling to the surface and threatening to overflow whenever Crowley was near.

He can only nod and attempt to clear his throat, “P-perfectly fine. I think everything’s just catching up to me.”

Crowley’s face morphs into one of understanding, “Of course, Angel. Surviving the end of the world is a tad exhausting, eh?”

He smiles and it breaks Aziraphale’s heart just a little more.

*

The second time- Aziraphale can barely believe there’s even a second time- it happens is just as gut wrenchingly painful and disconcerting. It’s Crowley’s lack of reaction. His face, his body language, all indicate a conversation no more important than discussing the weather. Crowley certainly doesn’t convey that he understands what Aziraphale has just told him.

And yet.

Aziraphale can feel the love Crowley has for him. Can feel it right down to the marrow, can feel it filling his lungs and flowing through his veins. He can almost taste its sweetness on his tongue like honey, can feel it taking root behind his ribs. Aziraphale can see it shining from Crowley’s eyes, can sense it in every touch, every soft word spoken, every breath.

And yet.

And yet.

*

The third, fourth and fifth time it happens, Aziraphale becomes suspicious.

“I love you, Crowley,” falls on deaf ears.

“You are the light of my life,” goes unheeded.

“I adore you,” tumbles from Aziraphale’s mouth and shatters between them, unheard and overlooked.

Aziraphale is determined, is the thing. He knows he loves Crowley, and he is certain Crowley loves him. So, in true stubborn angel style, Aziraphale decides to test his demon.

Aziraphale pens a love note. It is sickeningly sweet and direct, full of declarations and admissions that screams I love you with every ounce of my being and leaves no doubt as to Aziraphale’s true affections. When Crowley next visits the bookshop, Aziraphale, with a shaking hand, tentatively holds the note out to him and tries to smile, but misses the mark by a mile.

“Angel, what’s this? Have Up There been in touch?” Crowley asks with worry, his distaste clear on the words ‘up there’ leaving no doubt who he is referring too.

“Oh no, dear, nothing like that. It’s- it’s from me, actually,” Aziraphale takes a breath to steady his suddenly clamouring nerves, “I wrote you… something,”

Aziraphale cringes as Crowley smirks.

“Wrote something for me, did you? Oh, Angel, you shouldn’t have,” Crowley replies playfully, opening the letter with a flourish.

Time seems to stop, Aziraphale ceases breathing (he may not need to, but habits are tricky things to break after living amongst humans so long) and he examines Crowley’s face for any signs of shock at the words on the page.

Aziraphale isn’t sure what to expect, but surely Crowley must see it now. It’s there, ink on paper and as plain as day. Undeniable in black and white by the angel’s hand. The words are raw and frank, drawn from Aziraphale’s very soul.

And.

And.

Nothing.

No hint of recognition, no dawning of realisation. Just. Nothing.

*

He doesn’t give up per say, it’s more like Aziraphale resigns himself to the fact that Crowley seems to be unable to hear or see the angel’s words of love. And it isn’t for lack of trying on Aziraphale’s part. He’s lost count how many times he’s said the words or wrote them down. But no matter how Azirapahle phrases it, no matter the different synonyms he experiments with, nothing seems to work. Crowley either doesn’t have a reaction, or it’s as if he’s heard something so mundane, so normal that it’s just part of everyday conversation; not an admission from the depths of Aziraphale’s heart.

Aziraphale can admit it leaves him feeling torn in two, run ragged with his warring emotions. Part of him is still full to bursting with love for Crowley, so much love it’s almost too much for his poor human heart to contain. But the other part has resigned himself to the fact that his love will go unnoticed. It’s a deeper, darker side that Aziraphale endeavours to ignore until it cleaves the way to the surface, tearing at his insecurities and leaving him raw.

So, as Azirapahle has always done, he shows his love in other ways that are no less tangible than the spoken word. When Crowley visits and stays late into the night, Aziraphale will sit next to him on the couch, slowly but surely getting closer and closer as the evening wears on. He’ll brush his hands against Crowley’s as the bottle of whatever their drinking is passed between them. He’ll carefully, tenderly, fix the front of Crowley’s hair that has fell against his forehead the more drink he consumes, the more relaxed he becomes. Eventually, Aziraphale is so close, their thighs are touching, but he feels bolder with alcohol. He doesn’t have the strength to deny himself this, not when he is already denied sharing his love- his heart- with Crowley.

When Crowley wakes, gasping and shaking, Azirapahle is there. He takes him in his arms, unfurls his wings and cocoons them both, sheltering Crowley from the darkness of his nightmares.

When they take a stroll around St James’ Park, Aziraphale will link his arm with Crowley’s, and when he looks at him with a questioning brow, Aziraphale simply beams and squeezes Crowley’s arm. Aziraphale doesn’t miss the small, private smile that’s just for him.

When they’re sitting at lunch or dinner or maybe even brunch (clever lot those humans and their feeding times) Aziraphale will casually reach across the table and take Crowley’s hand as he peruses the menu. He never looks up, just focuses on the words in front of him, but Crowley no longer tenses in surprise. He even squeezes his hand in return.

Aziraphale shares his love and adoration for Crowley in innumerable ways and he can feel Crowley’s love radiating back to him, like the warmth of a beautiful summers day and as bright as the brightest star. If this is all he can have he’ll take it. Aziraphale would rather live another six millennia with what he has with Crowley now. Than with nothing at all.

*

Aziraphale hasn’t forgotten his attempts at admitting his love to Crowley (hard to forget each crushing blow), but he has gotten so familiar with showing Crowley how he feels that what happens on a normal Tuesday afternoon leaves him reeling.

It starts as a normal Tuesday, with nothing of note happening. Aziraphale potters around his shop until it’s time to visit Crowley at his flat. Ever since the aftermath of the not so quite Armageddon, Aziraphale has frequented Crowley’s home often. He enjoys the change of pace being in Crowley’s flat, with its tall windows, open spaces and far less clutter- although Aziraphale has managed to smuggle some pieces into the space. Today is no different has he lets himself in.

“In here, Angel,” Crowley calls from deeper in the flat. It’s hard to discern where ‘here’ actually is, but Aziraphale is guessing it’s his plant room.

Crowley has his mister in one hand, a wilted plant in the other, and a look of cold indifference as he faces the rest of his plants.

“Oh, Crowley dear, have you been terrorising those poor creatures again?”

Crowley turns to face Aziraphale with a frustrated sigh borne of a well worn argument, “It’s not terrorising, I’m teaching. They have to learn the rules of living here. Don’t follow the rules and face the consequences.”

At his last statement, Crowley turns to stare menacingly at the plants, brandishing the forlorn plant in his hand toward them, their leaves quivering in response.

Aziraphale utters a quiet ‘tsk’ and steps forward, prising the sad looking plant with its limp leaves from Crowley’s grasp.

“There, there, no need to fret young one. This wily old serpent’s hiss is worse than his bite. How about I put you right-” Aziraphale walks closer to the window and finds the perfect little space for the plant to perch on- “here. There, that’s much better. Now do try to get as much sunlight as you can. He’ll really appreciate it, you know.” Aziraphale says with a smile as he strokes the outermost leaf of the plant.

When Aziraphale turns, Crowley is frozen in place, the mister now hanging loosely in his grasp.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale takes a small step forwards, but stops when Crowley abruptly moves to face him head on.

“Tell me again,” he croaks, the words almost lost on his tongue.

“Tell you? Tell you what, my dear?”

“Tell- say it- what-” Crowley hisses in annoyance as he moves to stand directly in front of Aziraphale- “Say it again. What you’ve been trying to say. Say it again.” Crowley is almost pleading as if he’s run out of time, as if he’s missed his chance and is desperately trying to catch up.

It suddenly hits Aziraphale what he means. After all this time he can’t quite believe it and the past heartaches rear their ugly heads with a vengeance, strangling his heart and choking the words in his throat. He’s not sure what’s changed, but it’s suddenly terrifying- like standing on the edge of a sheer drop with no wings to fly with, and no safety net below to catch you.

Aziraphale opens and closes his mouth uselessly, a short desperate gasp the only sound he makes.

“Angel, please,” Crowley whispers, his voice a quiet, torn thing.

Aziraphale can see the beginnings of tears in Crowley’s wide golden eyes, can see the pain and heartache etched in every line on Crowley’s face, mirroring his own torment.

“I love you,”

“Again,”

“I love you,”

“Angel!”

“Crowley, my love, my heart, my shining star. I love you.”

Crowley collapses into Aziraphale’s arms, the weight of the declarations hitting him full force now that’s he letting them.

“You love me… you actually- I love you, Angel. So much.”

“I know,”

#good omens #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #goodomenssource #herzdieb #merlinss #ifishouldvanish #uservici #my writing #so i thought i’d upload it as it’s on post #its like 1800 words the most i’ve writtten in so long #i’m so happy with it??? #so yeah

[xxsovereignsarayaxx]

Supernatural - Road to Revenge Chapter 2

Authors Note: So here is the second chapter of this series and I'm really loving how it is coming together and I hope you guys too. Thank you to everyone for the likes and reblogs it very much appreciated ❤ (There is a flashback in bold) Word Count: 2908 Warnings: Some mild language. 

Chapter 1

“This day just keeps getting better and better.” I said with sarcasm dripping from lips to the other person on the phone.

“Nice to hear from you too, where are you?”

“None of your god-damn business, you’ve got a lot of nerve ringing me. Considering you wanted nothing to do with me, so what’s changed this time?” I replied bitterly.

“I’m using up my ONE free call for you, be grateful…”

“Grateful? You are joking?” I shouted, getting irritated.

My shouting in the kitchen brought Sam into the room. He looked at me with concern written all over his face. 

“But I feel so privileged that you decided to call me, so what did you get arrested for this time? Shoplifting? I teased.

“As much as I would love to carry on our conversation my call time is almost up.”

Sam raised his eyebrow, he knew exactly who I was talking to, and he also looked shocked that I was speaking to them. Realising that the fridge door was still open I reached in to grab two bottles of beer, shoving the phone in between my shoulder and ear I twisted the cap to the bottle and took a large swig. “You got yourself into trouble, I trust that you can get yourself out of it.” I said getting ready to hang up the call. 

“Coley, wait please. Something wasn’t right and it’s...it’s your kind of weird please just get me out of here and I’ll get my shit together.” 

Letting out a sigh I placed the bottle on the island in the middle of the room. “Where are you Nia?” 

“Nevada.” 

And with that the call dropped so either my sweet sister hung up or she ran out of time. I bent down and rested my head on the counter, letting out a groan.

“Do I dare ask what’s going on?” Sam asked me leaning against the island, handing me my beer. 

“Nia got herself arrested again...I have half the mind to let her ungrateful arse rot in jail.” I said with a huff taking my beer and downing the contents.

“But she said something didn’t add up which means there could be a case or that the bail is far too much and she’s using what I do as a method to get herself out of jail...again” I added.

Sam let out a chuckle since he was familiar with mine and my sister's love-hate relationship.

“She’s family though Nik.”

“Take note of your own words Sam.” I scoffed and got up and brushed past him and went to find Dean. 

Turns out Dean had given up looking for cases and research and had retreated to the ‘Dean Cave’ he was engrossed in some horror movie, I entered the room, plonking myself in the recliner next to him I swiped the bottle of whiskey he was still drinking from. 

“You look happy.” Dean teased not looking from the large TV on the wall.

“Fancy a drive tomorrow?” I asked him, taking a sip of the alcoholic beverage feeling the burn as the contents slid down my throat. 

“Where?” Dean asked.

“Nevada...” I replied with a grumble.

Dean turned to look at me and he raised an eyebrow as a sign to get me to explain what was going on. A look I had seen many times before. 

“So you know my favourite sister Nia?” I asked, playing with my fingers.

“Nia is your only sister…” 

“Well the moron got herself arrested. She claims something wasn’t right and basically is insinuating that it’s a case. I’m in two minds of going because she’s played this trick before.” I explained.

“If it is a case we can gank whatever son of a bitch it is. If not I can have great pleasure irritating your sister.” Dean replied with a chuckle.

“No wonder she doesn’t like us.” I laughed leaning towards Dean almost climbing in his seat resting my head on his shoulder.

The rest of the evening consisted of beer, whiskey and a horror movie marathon which was nice for a change. We agreed that we would leave first thing in the morning and it would be best to try and get some shut eye. Brushing my teeth in the sink in our room, Dean was on the laptop whilst laid in bed. “So it seems that there was a robbery last night.” 

“Wobbery?” I asked while still having the toothbrush still in my mouth, earning a snigger from Dean I spat the toothpaste out and tried again. “Robbery?”

“Yeah seems the Monroe Art Gallery held a ‘Black Tie Event’ last night and a painting called ‘The Souls of Gabriel’ was stolen only to find it dumped in an alleyway with part of the frame smashed to pieces. According to the police reports Nia’s prints were all over the thing.” Dean explained as I got into bed, as I snuggled closer to him I looked at the police report he currently had loaded on the screen. 

“Seems that Nia can’t account for her whereabouts, they even ran a tox screen on a blood sample which came up clean.” I said reading out loud. “You thinking demon?” I asked. 

“Could be, we won’t know for sure until we get down there and ask her.” Dean replied, shutting the laptop and setting it on the bedside table. Bringing me closer in his arms. “I know seeing Nia again after all these years is going to be difficult Nik, I’ll be there every step of the way.” Dean whispered to me, planting a kiss on the top of my forehead. As he laid on his back I rested my head on his chest. The steady rise and fall of his chest sent me into a peaceful slumber.

I couldn’t sleep, my mind was just racing with memories of me and my older sister mainly the last time we had spoken. 

Nia paced around the motel room hands on her hips, I got up from the chair in the kitchenette heading over to my sister trying to comfort her. “You're crazy! Mom and Dad should have left you to rot in that foster home, you got them killed with all this nonsense.” 

Tears formed in my eyes feeling hurt by the harsh words that came out of Nia’s mouth.

“Nia...Listen to me you saw the demons…” I said as I choked on my tears. 

“No Nicole! You listen! You were the reason that Mom and Dad died if you hadn’t have come into our lives they would have still been alive!” She shouted as she headed towards the door, she turned… 

“We’re done.” And with that she left the room and I was left in a state of shock and upset...

I shot up awake, Dean was snoring softly - at least he was settled for once getting some much needed sleep. I turned over in bed trying to get myself comfortable when I heard a door squeak open and close and the sound of boots walking down the hallway. I checked my phone to see the time - 12:36AM. Wanting to find out what Sam was doing I carefully got out of bed, threw on a pair of jeans and one of Dean’s shirts quickly pulling on my boots and exited the room as quietly as possible, taking in a quick glance at Dean to whom had just turned onto his side facing away from the door. Slipping out the room I crept through the bunker making my way through the library. I grabbed the keys and helmet to my motorbike as that was the quieter vehicle and proceeded outside, as I sat on my bike I saw that the run-around Sam often used was missing so putting on my helmet flicking the visor down so it covered my face and then started the engine to my bike giving it a few soft revs and then left the bunker leaving Baby in the driveway. 

I must have driven a few miles up the road as I saw a layby and a familiar yellow 1976 AMC Gremlin along with Sam’s car parked. I saw a figure sitting on a picnic table and a taller figure stood up. Pulling into the layby I saw two heads turn to look at me as I parked very close to the two, turned the engine off I took off my helmet shaking my long hair in the process. “I should have known you would have brought Charlie into this mess Sam.” I said bluntly. 

“Hiya Nikki.” Charlie interrupted the awkward silence hopping off the table to give me a hug.

“Hi Charlie.” I replied embracing my favourite nerd.

“So what are we gonna do about it?” Charlie asks Sam as if they were continuing their conversation.

Sam looked at me nervously. “Don’t stop on my account.” I said sarcastically.

“I got hold of a codex which is sort of a...a collection of supernatural code-breaking tools and it should help crack ‘The Book of the Damned’.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “You mean that thing you got out of that safe in the suicide house you and Dean went to?” 

“Yeah.”

“That would be awesome if the book, you know, actually existed.” Charlie replied.

“She’s got a point Sam you burned it when we were at the cabin having our asses handed to us.” I told him.

“It does. Uh I, um...I swapped it out right before it looked like I burned it.” Sam admitted looking down at the floor.

“Okay. Well, Dean wanted it burned. So is he pissed?” Charlie asked her voice full of concern while I was still sitting on my bike. “He doesn’t know. I didn’t know until now.” I said sternly, giving Sam a good glare. 

“Look Dean’s not in the right place. He would try to stop me. He's given up, I have an expert looking at the codex as we speak…”

“If you say Rowena is your expert you need your head examined Sam, she can't be trusted.” I yelled. “Going behind Dean’s back? Did I mention that this whole thing reeks? Nikki is right she is one of the most dangerous witches…” 

“If we don’t do this...this might be the only shot at saving Dean.” Sam admitted looking defeated.

The three of us stood in the cool air in silence, Charlie was the first to make a move giving both me and Sam a respected hug, got in her car and left saying that she needed some time to think it over. I knew that one way or another she would help as we were a family. Charlie saw Dean and Sam as her brothers and she would do anything to help either one of them. As her car faded into the distance Sam spoke. “I should have been honest with you.” Letting out a sigh. “Damn straight you should have, I want Dean to be back to normal just as much as you do Sam but keeping secrets and going behind our backs isn’t the way to do it.” I replied in a softer tone of voice. 

“I’m sorry Nikki.” Sam said as he brought me into a hug. “Look, me and Dean are going to find Nia and get that whole situation straight with her. Use that time to find the answers you need...I just wish I stayed back at the bunker now Sam, as I now have to hide this all from Dean and one way or another it’s going to end up being messy.” I admitted pulling away from Sam. 

Putting my helmet back on I left Sam in the layby, the gravel shifted underneath my tyres as I sped off back to the bunker. I loved riding my bike, it was the power and speed of how the bike played with my adrenaline and cleared my mind at the same time. Carefully bringing the bike to a stop, setting the stand so it wouldn’t tip over and scratch the paint I made my way back inside playing my helmet and the keys on the table in the war room. Trying to fix my serious case of helmet hair I heard a clearing of the throat. I turned to see Dean in just pajama bottoms. “Couldn’t sleep?” He asked voice laced with a little sleep. “Yeah this whole thing with Nia, is just keeping my head awake.” I said partly lying. While I was concerned about my sister it wasn’t the thing keeping me from sleeping. “Is that my shirt?” He asked me as he reached out pulling me to him, I collided with his bare chest softly. “Maybe.” I teased. 

By 9AM we were on the road, Baby was eating up the miles as we got ever closer to Nevada. We had the best of ‘Mullet Rock’ playing on the stereo while I checked the map finding out where we were. A couple empty fast food take out cartons were by my feet as I slurped the last of my fizzy drink. Dean had the driver window down enjoying the drive. “After mile marker 90 we should be about 7 hours out.” I told him as I folded the map up and placed it on the back seat and then pulled my sunglasses down on my face to keep the sun out of my eyes. “Well we’re in no shortage of motels.” Dean said, turning to look at me briefly before bringing his attention back on the road. Taking the wheel in just one hand he rested his right hand on my thigh. I smiled, placing my own hand on top of his.

We got to a motel at about midnight, both exhausted from the drive we slumped into the room slinging our bags on the table in the kitchenette, as Dean made his way to the bathroom I fell face first onto the bed slightly bouncing when I hit the mattress. Within minutes I was fast asleep. 

I must have woken up a few hours later seeing Dean sat at the table on the laptop. “Hey sleepyhead.” He said with a chuckle. Climbing out of bed I walked over to him wrapping my arms around him as I peered over his shoulder looking at the screen. “So that is ‘The Souls of Gabriel’?” I asked. Dean nodded. “Seems like it’s had quite the adventure, been in the possession of a few owners over the last couple of centuries. Rumor has it that there was a scroll hidden inside the frame. Could be why the painting itself was found in the alleyway and why the frame was destroyed. Whatever was on the scroll must be important. Dean explained. “I bet.” I murmured into his shoulder. 

The next morning Dean and I were dressed in our ‘Fed Threads’ as we headed over to the police station, entering the building I noticed the hustle and bustle around and we made our way to the front desk, fishing out our fake FBI badges from our jackets we showed the officer who was typing on a computer. “Hi I’m Agent Kevin, this is Agent Perry. We’re here because you’ve got my informant by the name Nia Williams.” The officer pulled a look of disbelief. “Agent Kevin and Perry?” 

“My mother wasn’t a fan either when she married my dad.” I said with a shrug of my shoulders. 

“Nobody by the name of Nia Williams here.” The officer said turning back to the computer.

“Perhaps you’ve seen her instead.” Dean added trying to save the conversation showing the officer a picture of Nia off his phone. 

“Her? Yeah she’s here but booked her in as Lila Cox, she’s cooling off in interview room 2 real temper that one.” 

“We alright to speak with her?” I asked.

“I’ll get the detective who has the case.” I nodded and then the officer left.

“Lila?” Dean asked me close to my ear. “I know we have aliases but I’ve seriously lost track of the countless ones Nia uses.” I replied with a whisper.

“Agents.” We both turned to see the detective who was in charge.

“We’re here to speak with Lila Cox.” Dean said to the male.

“What can I do for you? She’s a suspect in a robbery charge. If you insinuate that she walks free, I’ll hang up my gun and badge. We caught your girl, end of story.”  

I crossed my arms, altering my posture slightly to try and make myself a little more intimidating. “Detective, have you heard of a sting operation? Am I right knowing that the painting was recovered with minimal damage? Yes the frame was chipped slightly but no harm no foul.” 

“Chipped? The frame was smashed, thousands of dollars worth of damage…”

“Which will be covered by the bureau, we caught the bad guy we needed, but in order to finish up the never ending amount of paperwork we need to speak with Lila.” Dean added trying to back me up. 

“In the meantime perhaps you want to speak with our superior whilst we speak with Lila.” I offered to hand him a business card from my jacket pocket. 

He refused the card. “No need, this way.” He said showing us the way to the interview rooms. 

Thanking the detective and entering the room I saw Nia with her head resting on the table and hands still cuffed together. 

“So Lila.” 

#spn fanfiction #spn #spn fanfic series #spn fandom #dean winchester #deanwinchtser #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester spn #Sam Winchester #Charlie Bradbury #Orginal character #supernatural #support writers

[writingfortoomanyfandoms]

Exposed

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Summary: Joe accidentally outs Ben and Y/N’s relationship

Requested: Omg please make a Ben x reader where either one of the boys takes a selfie or there’s just a regular Behind the scenes photo of Ben and the reader cuddling on one of the couches floating around the internet but they’re secretly dating (or they were)

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: I’m sorry this took so long to get out - I hope you guys enjoyed it though! Please remember to like and reblog and leave comments and the like - reading them honestly means the world to me :)

“Where are you going?” Y/N whined, grabbing tiredly at her boyfriend’s figure as he rolled out of the bed. Ben chuckled at her actions, sitting up on the edge of the bed and moving the covers to tuck her in. He grabbed her hand, which was still flailing in an attempt to grab onto him and he pressed a kiss against her skin before moving it underneath the covers.

“Work. Early shoot remember, love?” Y/N opened her eyes lazily to pout at him, pulling her puppy dog eyes and Ben wanted nothing more than to climb back under the covers with her.

“Stay at home,” she begged, shifting towards him in bed and Ben chuckled, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

“I can’t love,” Y/N groaned again.

“It’s too early,” she announced and Ben grinned at how adorable she was.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” 

“Wanna spend time with you,”

“What if you come on set for lunch - Joe, Gwil, Rami and Lucy have been on my arse about telling you to come to set more often,” Ben proposed. “And Roger and Brian want to meet you,”

“That’s terrifying,” Y/N informed her boyfriend with a lazy smile up at him. Ben grinned, giving her lips a gentle peck.

“I’ve gotta get ready, love, I’ll see you later,” Y/N sat up, holding her arms out for a hug, which Ben gladly gave her, wrapping his arms around his waist, sliding his hands up the back of the shirt of his that she was wearing and resting his head in the crook of her neck.

“I love you,” 

“I love you too,” Ben murmured, pulling away and kissing her lips softly.

“I’ll see you for lunch,” she mumbled, lying back down in the bed and allowing Ben to tuck the covers in around her again.

“See you for lunch, love,”

Ben found himself watching the clock for most of the day, anxiously waiting her arrival.

“You’re properly excited aren’t you?” Joe observed as the director called cut and the two of them wandered off set. Ben shrugged, a smile growing on his face.

“Yeah,” he responded simply.

“Aww Benny’s in love,” Joe teased, nudging his friend. Ben rolled his eyes but let out a laugh.

“I’ve been in love with her since well before you met me, Joe,” Ben pointed out and Joe shrugged.

“It’s still adorable,”

“You’re so annoying, I hope you know that,” Joe was saved from replying as Allen called out.

“Ben! Y/N’s here!” Ben’s face split into an impossibly wide grin and he practically ran to the entrance of the building, where Y/N was conversing with Gwil and Allen, the two men laughing at something she had said. But it made him happy to see how, when her eyes met his, they brightened and she cut off their conversation to run into his arms.

“It’s literally been, like four hours since you last saw each other,” Allen pointed out, laughing and Ben shrugged, kissing Y/N.

“I missed you,” he murmured and Y/N beamed, winding her arms around his neck so she could pull him down to her lips again.

“I missed you too,” she assured, nuzzling her nose against his.

They heard fake-retching sounds and Ben was quick to raise his middle finger towards the source of the noise, who he knew to be Joe. It was always Joe.

“Fuck off,” Ben groaned and the sound became a little louder as Y/N released him to embrace Joe in a hug.

“How are you, Joey?” She asked, squeezing her friend.

“I’m good thanks, Y/N, how are you?” 

“I’m good!” Y/N agreed and Ben slipped his hand back into hers.

“Come on, love, let’s go get lunch,” he said, tugging lightly and Y/N giggled, allowing herself to fall back into his chest.

"Don’t you need to change out of costume?” She questioned, lightly pulling at the ruffled shirt he was wearing and Ben laughed, placing his arm over her shoulder.

“Yeah, but that won’t take long,”

“I’ll wait in your trailer?” She offered and Ben nodded, pressing their lips together again.

“I’ll be back in, like, ten minutes,”

Much to Ben’s annoyance, Joe, Allen and Gwilym ended up joining Ben and Y/N for lunch. Lucy and Rami considered joining but were halted on their way off set to run some more lines for the director. 

But the three men insisted upon crashing their romantic lunch at the new Italian restaurant that had opened up a few streets away.

Y/N didn���t mind, she loved spending time with Ben’s cast mates, much as they loved spending time with her.

Ben, on the other hand, had been looking forward to spending some much needed quality time just with his girlfriend. Which was why his frustration only increased when the three men joined them in his trailer to watch some episodes of The Office as they were meant to be reading through the scripts.

Her and Ben were cuddled up on the couch, her under his arm and both of them with their eyes fixed on the script he was holding. She was quietly running his lines with him and Ben found himself being easily distracted by her.

“Stop pouting, Benny,” Y/N murmured, looking up at her boyfriend who let out a deep sigh, gently moving the script out from her hands and tossing it to the side so that he could hug her more securely, hiding his face in her neck.

“Just want to spend time with you,” he grumbled and Y/N giggled, moving her head to kiss him. “Just you,” he added and Y/N rolled her eyes slightly, but the action was affectionate.

“I’ll see you at home, Ben,” she murmured as she kissed him softly again, before pushing herself up to sit up.

“Do you have to go?” He asked, frowning and kissing her again. Y/N laughed against his lips and nodded.

“I have an essay I need to write,” Ben sighed at her words and swung his legs over the side of the couch and stood up.

“I’ll walk you out,”

“You’re leaving?” Joe asked, raising his head to look at Y/N and she nodded.

“Gotta take the dog for a walk and start my essay,” she shrugged. “But I’ll see you guys around yeah?”

“See you!” The men called.

“Get out of my trailer!” Ben added as they left and Y/N giggled at his words with a slight eye roll.

“We were only here for Y/N anyway,” Joe shouted and Y/N laughed loudly at the comment as the trailer door shut behind them.

“I love your friends,”

“That makes one of us,” Ben grumbled and Y/N looped her hand through Ben’s arm, smiling serenely up at him.

“I love you more,” the comment cracked the man’s stony expression and he gave her the most adoring look.

“I love you too,”

“I’ll tell you what - to make up for lunch - I’ll make dinner and run you a bath for when you get home and I’ll find a series for us to start watching and we’ll just have a quiet night for the two of us,” she proposed and Ben’s eyes softened at the expression as he brought her in for a kiss. “And Frankie,” she added.

“Of course,” Ben laughed a little. “That sounds perfect, love,”

“I’ll see you at home then?”

“See you at home,”

Ben moaned, shifting Y/N on top of her, her legs on either side of his torso so she was straddling him. He slipped his tongue into her mouth as his hands slid up her hips and under the big shirt she was wearing. Her hair hung in wet tendrils around his face and he chuckled a little at the feeling of them tickling his cheeks.

“I love you,” Y/N gasped out between kisses and Ben smirked, his lips trailing kisses down her neck.

“I love you too,” he said, the words muffled against her skin but, even despite their muffled sound they still sent a shiver down her spine.

“What happened to quiet movie night?” She teased but her words quickly turned into a moan as Ben found her sweet spot and she threw her head back to allow him better access.

“Fuck that, haven’t had you to myself all day,” Ben huffed and Y/N chuckled, running her hands through his hair and pulling their lips back together in a way that was much less feverish than their previous kisses.

Ben let out a groan of frustration as their moment was broken by the sound of his ringtone from their bedside table. He tried to bring Y/N back in for another kiss but she leaned away, grabbing his phone.

“It could be important,” she said with a cocked eyebrow and Ben rolled his eyes, taking the phone.

“It’s Joe,” he said, shrugging and Y/N glanced at the alarm clock on the table.

“It’s late,” she commented and Ben nodded as he picked up the call.

“Hey, what’s up man?” Ben greeted. He listened to the response, a frown crossing his face. “Are you serious? Joe what the fuck?” He said, moving Y/N carefully to the side and sitting up on the side of their bed, running his hand through his hair. Y/N sat behind him, gently massaging his shoulder, placing tender kisses to the back of his neck. “Yeah, no she’s here,” Ben said, adding to Y/N’s suspicion that the call had something to do with their relationship. 

“What’s going on?” Y/N whispered but Ben shook her off with a strained smile in her direction.

“It’s okay, love, I’m sorting it out,” he promised, kissing her lips quickly. “No... I think it’s for the best that you leave it... I’ll put something up as well and that will... clear up any confusion,” Ben sighed. Even through the phone Y/N could hear Joe’s mantra of apologies. “No, no, man, I know you didn’t mean to. It’s fine. I promise,” he listened intently to Joe’s words. “It’s okay, honestly. We’ll sort it. Just... try and rest okay?” Ben let out a light chuckle. “I’ll pass on the message. Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow,” 

Ben turned around, letting out a breath, his expression pinched and anxious. Y/N raised a hand to cup his cheek, smoothing out the worry lines and offering what she hoped to be a reassuring smile.

“What’s going on?” She asked.

“Promise you won’t freak?”

“What’s going on?” Y/N repeated with a tender expression.

“Joe accidentally posted a photo of us on his Instagram earlier,” Ben let out in a breath and Y/N felt her eyes widen slightly at the confession.

“What - how did he accidentally post a photo of us?”

“Him, Allen and Gwil took a photo in my trailer earlier when you were on set and I guess we were in the background and he didn’t notice before he posted it,” Ben shrugged slightly. “He only realised it now because Gwil called him,”

“Holy shit,” Y/N whispered, grabbing her phone and opening up Instagram. Ben shifted closer to her to look over her shoulder as she brought up Joe’s page.

Sure enough, it was a selfie of Ben’s cast mates with Y/N curled up on Ben’s chest in the background. Y/N was grinning and he had his lips pressed against the top of her head, eyes closed.

“I mean... it could be worse?” She offered and Ben laughed a little.

“Could be much worse,” he agreed.

“What... what do we do Ben?” Y/N asked and, as she looked at him, Ben could see just how worried she was.

“I recon we post a photo of the two of us and explain it,” he proposed. “Unless...” he hesitated. “You don’t want to break up, do you?” He asked, genuine fear in his eyes. Y/N wasted no time in shaking her head.

“God no, Ben. I never want to do that!” She promised and Ben let out a sigh of relief, opening his phone again. 

“I’m glad.” He murmured and Y/N turned his face to hers to kiss him gently.

“No matter what I’ll always love you,”

#bohemian rhapsody #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x y/n #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy imagines #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy fanfiction #ben hardy fan #ben hardy fluff #ben hardy fic #requested #please request #courts requests

[beerecordings]

Um, if that was a prompt for us to send things in, "Go on. Try to run." with whoever you choose?

okay..... i’m real proud of this one... thanks for the prompt, sid :) can you feel the American patriotism????? (because our nature scenes are the only thing we have going for us anymore???) anyway someone take a road trip with me

also sorry again i can’t get the read-more to work.... I know this post is long af. please tag it “long post” if you reblog, ty ty

Edit: not tumblr fucked up the spaces too, so there’s these *** instead of spaces. i am confusion.

tws for vomit mention, blood, implied character death, and car crash

                                                          ***

He moves through the shadows of the mountains at his brother's side, curled up against the window of the shitty 2002 Dodge Neon they stole from a rancher's backyard at three in the morning, trying not to nightmare.

He dozes instead of sleeping, suspended in awakeness by the rapid thud-thud-thud of the vibrating window against his skull.

“Turn the radio on?” he asks drowsily, readjusting and putting his jacket against his head.

JJ pushes the power button on the radio and flicks through the channels, bypassing Mexican music complete with a joyful grito, hypermasculine country trash, the top 40s station, and an orchestral piece featuring an celloist going absolutely ham on Shostakovich's Symphony Number One before landing on a talk show about the declining white rhino population in Southern Africa.

Not what Chase would have picked, but he'll forgive his little brother's eccentrism for the relief of a voice to listen to.

“Two female Northern white rhinos live at the Pejeta Conservatory in Kenya, and today, they and the rest of the world are grieving a terrible loss – the death of the last male Northern white rhino, Sudan, who passed away last Monday at the ripe old age of forty-five.”

“That's sad,” Chase mumbles, rubbing his face. Fuck, he's hungry. Maybe he'll wake up after all. Sitting up in his chair, he heaves out a deep sigh and glances over at JJ, who doesn't even bother to nod, his exhausted eyes fixed on the road.

“You should let me drive next.”

Jameson shakes his head, shifting uncomfortably. His fingers are gripped very tight on the steering wheel.

“The loss of the Northern white rhino species has been sudden and devastating. In 2015, five rhinos lived in captivity, and there were hopes of babies being born to help save the species. But now, only two of the rhinos remain, and it seems their death warrant has been signed by the loss of Sudan.”

Chase glances out the window, where proud tall trees rise towards a fervently blue sky, heavy with spring greenery. Their car curves down a winding road through a rocky mountainside, spitting gravel off the side of the cliff as they speed along towards their destination.

What destination? Chase wonders, watching the light of the sun play along the surface of a quiet blue lake miles below them. Where can we go that he will not find us?

“Hey, any beef jerky left?”

Jamie shakes his head again, glancing over at his brother. A flicker of his old warmth wakes up in his eyes as he meets Chase's gaze, his twin in tiredness.

He takes his hands off the wheel long enough to sign, “Stop soon.”

“Okay.”

Chase reaches into the back and grabs Jackie's blood-stained backpack off the floor, taking out his journal one more time. He doesn't expect to find anything that will help them anymore.

He just misses his brother's handwriting.

“I think I'm getting paranoid,” reads the soft, scrawling script their brother left behind. “I can tell that he's coming. I can always tell. The glitches, Jack's condition. Sometimes I think Marvin can sense it too, because I hear him awake late at night, coughing on too much magic, full up on restless energy. I know I'm being overbearing, telling them all to stay close, trying to stop Schneep from going to work. I can't get him to stay home. I'm just scared Anti will take him away first. He works regular hours now and it's not safe. Anti could find him. Anti could find Jack. I don't want to be an ass. I just want to keep them safe.”

Chase swallows back tears – he's getting used to that burn at the back of his throat – and flips dully through the rest of the journal. Here are Jackie's notes on Anti's powers, signs of his oncoming appearances, what he's done in videos, what he seems to want. None of it was enough to save them.

If only he had been a little more overbearing.

“There used to be many Northern white rhinos, living happily throughout Northern Africa in large numbers. But the reason for their decline, and now, near extinction, is all too clear – poaching has led these innocent creatures to their end. Even now, the two remaining Northern white rhinos must be protected around the clock, wary of hunters at all time.”

“Can we listen to something else?” asks Chase.

“Today, we grieve the loss of this magnificent species, once a proud and numerous symbol of their homeland. With only two remaining, how can they expect to survive?”

JJ turns the radio off.

                                                              ***

Chase peers up at the dawn sky from beneath the windshield, his eyes flickering between the dead highway before them and the breathing morning stars above him, glittering in the faraway satin of a bright pink sunrise.

“Some parts of America are really so pretty,” he says, wistful. Brown and black horses move past their car, watching from the hills and nudging their colts around with their noses. “I wish we were just on a roadtrip instead of on the run, you know? We could go somewhere nice. Camp out or something. No, never mind. Camping sounds miserable. We'll get a hotel and wander all the cities we like. Schneep always talked about traveling.”

He takes a sip from the caffeinated gas station soda in the cup holder beside him and then glances over to grin sadly at his brother, but JJ isn't looking. He sits with his head in his hand, frowning out the window, pale in the wan yellow light of the morning.

“Hey, you okay?”

No answer, but it's hard to have a conversation when Chase is supposed to be watching the road. And Jamie hasn't talked much lately anyway. Hardly at all, really. He just clings to Chase's side and glares at passersby in silence, his hand shoved into his pocket at all times. Chase is pretty sure he's always holding a knife these days. He never looks happy. He never looks safe.

Fuck, he'd just about kill to see him smile again.

Chase takes a deep breath and swallows down a burning at the back of his throat, reaching out to rub the back of JJ's neck roughly.

“Look, bud,” he sighs. “I know how hard you're trying to protect me, but I wish you'd look after yourself a little better. It's just you and me now, you know? And that – that isn't easy, but if we're going to survive... we both need to survive, right, man?”

JJ doesn't turn to him. The sunrise makes him pastel in blue and pink.

“I love you,” Chase adds. “I'm really glad you're here, J. What would I do without you, huh?”

He smiles and gives his brother another affectionate clap on the shoulder, adding a playful tug on his ear, trying to get him to look at him.

And Jameson turns and he is weeping.

“You'd be much better off without me,” he signs, and then he breaks down completely, slumped against the dashboard with gasping sobs trembling their way out of his mouth.

“Fuck,” Chase can't help but spit out, reaching out to leave a hand on his brother's back as he slams the brakes hard and drags their exhausted little car onto a quiet gravel shoulder, where only fence posts and sparsely forested grasslands stare back at them.

Chase unbuckles and gets out of the car, moving to Jameson's side and pulling open the door. After that, all he knows to do is reach out, gentle, and grab JJ's hand, ferocious.

He hasn't seen Jameson cry in weeks. He has been steel and defense, gritted teeth and deadened eyes, since what happened.

“Tell me what's going on,” he says.

“What's going on?” JJ demands, yanking his hand away. A magpie calls a reprimand to the trees, her black head shining with the golden light of the oncoming day. “Let's stop pretending there's any relief to be found in this, Chase. In escaping. In running. In fucking off to another country and wearing baseball caps low over our eyes and pretending the internet doesn't exist. In driving all day and all night, in grieving from the front seat of a stolen car, in never seeing home again.”

“Fine,” snaps Chase, gripping his hand and leaning closer. “Fine, there's nothing good about this. Does that make you feel better? There's nothing good about this situation.

Except you.”

Jameson stills, sniffling sadly and wiping harsh at the salt on his cheeks.

“You're all I got left, man,” Chase murmurs, putting his other hand on his shoulder. “You're everything. And I'm tired of seeing you so... quiet. Listen, I'm in grief too. You've heard me crying often enough to know. But if we're going to survive, we have to survive together. I need you healthy. Or as healthy as you can be. Capeesh?”

JJ looks up, his mouth trembling, and gives Chase the smallest nod.

“Tell me what's wrong.”

Jameson is pale and exhausted, thin with bad eating and long nights of running, hollowed and hopeless and lovely, lovely as he has ever been, a blue-eyed boy with a softness in his face and power in the lines of his hands. Chase brushes a curl of hair from his brother's eyes, his fingers drifting over the curves of his face.

“It's my fault,” says JJ.

“Oh, buddy – ”

“No, it is, I mean it, it's all my – it's all my fault.”

“Don't say that, Jays. It's not true.”

“I was supposed to be watching Schneep.”

“You did everything you could.”

“Jackie and Marvin went to protect Jack, and I was supposed to watch Schneep, I was supposed to save Schneep, I was supposed to – ”

JJ collapses onto Chase's shoulder, weeping so hard he can barely breathe. All Chase can do is hold him, hold him close and cry out, “You did everything you could. You did everything you could. It's not your fault you were the last line of defense.”

And this is the truth, but it makes nothing better.

Jameson Jackson did his best. Fought his best. Loved his hardest.

It was only enough to save one.

And he's afraid – afraid to the core of his being, afraid down to his trembling heart – that, soon enough, it will no longer be enough to save Chase either.

“I love you,” says Chase. “And you and I? We're going to find some happiness again, someday, okay? Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But someday. You deserve that much.”

Jameson stares back at him, reaching out to clutch his hands. Slowly, wearily, he lets his watching eyes slip shut, and rests his head on Chase's shoulder.

They sit by the side of the road for a long time. The cicadas are singing in the trees.

                                                             ***

The stars watch over them.

Or maybe they're just watching.

Chase can never tell anymore. Everything feels like a threat these days.

"On the road again," he hums, bouncing his leg and trying to entertain himself by tapping his fingers against his knee. "Oh, I can't wait to get on the road again!"

He pauses, glancing over at JJ.

"That's not true," he admits, and Jameson looks back at him warmly, giving his fine blue eyes a quick roll made visible by the ugly yellow overhead light they flickered on for comfort in the dark.

There's no one else out here. They take back roads when they can.

"What state are we in?"

Jameson frowns, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel thoughtfully before offering Chase a guilty look of surrender.

"You don't know?"

"Maybe P-E-N - "

"Penis, my favorite state, perfect."

Chase gets a punch in the arm for that one. Worth it.

There's a little more fire in JJ tonight, he thinks. He hopes. Maybe it's because they spent more than they should have on dinner to get little ice cream cones for dessert, or maybe there's just been enough time passed that Jameson's paranoia is settling down, but one way or another, he's hoping to see some joy on his face soon. If he keeps cracking enough dumbass jokes, he can get him to smile, can't he? Surely there's some happiness coming their way at some point, considering that the universe has been well and truly fucking them over for the past four weeks. Surely.

Chase glances around for wood to knock on, but he can't reach the trunks of the heavy forest zipping along past their window. The headlights illuminate a warning sign on the side of the road before them, neon yellow with the black form of a deer printed on its surface, and Chase jerks back as he accidentally meets the gaze of the enormous grey owl sitting atop it.

"These woods are creepy," he complains.

"Sleep," suggests JJ authoritatively, pushing Chase's shoulder.

"Hey, you sleep," Chase grumbles back, pushing his shoulder back. "Maybe we could - oh, shit! Is that a CD case?"

His enthusiasm makes Jamie flinch, but a second later he is watching with interest as his brother rifles hurriedly through the pages of the CD holder, laughing louder with each disc he lays eyes on.

"Al Green - Frank Sinatra - holy shit, both discs for the Order of the Phoenix audiobook. You want to listen to some fucking Harry Potter?"

"No."

"Aw, come on."

"Those were Marvin's favorites!"

There's a pause. Chase stares over at his brother. Jameson stares over at the road, pale with distress.

"Yeah," says Chase eventually. "He was a real nerd for this shit."

He gets punched in the shoulder again, but Jameson's eyes are affectionate. Chase grins and adjusts in his seat, crossing his legs in front of him.

"You remember that time he set the kitchen on fire?" he asks.

Jameson blinks, his mouth twitching. "Which time?"

"Ha ha! The time I was cooking a whole goddamn turkey in the oven and he sent everything up in smoke? Schneep stepped into the house, took one look at all of us screaming and trying to put the fire out, and walked right back out."

Jameson snorts, loosening his grip on the steering wheel. Yeah, he remembers. He remembers laughing.

"But that was also the day Jackie came home so badly hurt," Jameson reminds, drawing his hands away from the wheel just for a second.

"Yeah, well, that one was his fault. He never could resist a fight with a guy twice his size. I don't know if you ever heard this - it was before you were created - but he once got his skull busted open by some asshole with a whole mob of lackeys, woke up in the hospital after four days of being comatose, and went out that same time to get his revenge."

"He did not!"

"Oh, he so did. I think that was the only time Schneep ever followed through on his threat to lock him in his room."

Jameson's mouth twitches. He glances over at Chase with an eyebrow raised and then looks back to the road, sighing a content sigh.

Warmth blooms in Chase's chest like the sunflowers along the side of the road. Then the silence drags on for too long and he decides to take drastic action.

"I'm putting one of these CDs in."

"Don't put one of those CDs in!"

"I'm doing it, you can't stop me, I'm - " Chase yanks Sinatra's top hits out of its case and moves for the CD player. Jameson intercepts, shoving his hand out of the way.

"Those all look terrible! I don't want to listen to any of that!"

"Sinatra!" cries Chase, laughing almost too hard to fight back.

"No!"

"Yes!" With a final, determined gesture, Chase slams the CD into the player and turns the volume up.

Jameson shakes his head at him with faux irritation, his eyes shining warm in the ugly light of the car.

"Some day," sings Sinatra, low and wavering, and Chase lets out a whoop of delight. "When I'm awfully low... when the world is cold... I will feel a glow... "

"Just thinking of you!" Chase sings along at the top of his lungs. Jameson shakes his head, trying not to smile, the corners of his mouth edging upwards. "And the way you look tonight!"

"You're so cheesy," says JJ, glancing to the side as a deer leaps through the trees, startled by the headlights. "Such a dork."

"Hey, you're the dork, dapper man."

"Yes, you're lovely!" cries Sinatra, with passion. "With your smile so warm and your cheeks so soft! There is nothing for me but to love you."

"And the way you look tonight!" Chase finishes, breaking down into giggles.

It's one am in Eastern time and this abandoned back road is taking them towards whatever state it feels like. They're in the middle of nowhere, hiding but together, tired but alive.

That's all that matters.

A smile spreads like a sunrise across Jameson's mouth. Chase hollers his delight, only making Jameson laugh harder, leaving them both shaking in their seats, overwhelmed and full of warmth, loving and united, brothers and- there is a man in the middle of the road -

"Jameson!" screams Chase, and his little brother's hands grab the steering wheel and pull -

                                                             ***

“Fuck,” whispers Chase, awakening.

Copper-taste sits in his mouth like poison and he coughs, pain racing through his chest and blood dripping down his lip. Confused, he lets out a soft whimper and tries to sit up, but his seatbelt, crushed tight against his chest, does not allow it.

He's grateful for it, too. Without it, he'd be dead for sure.

There is an arm in front of him too.

His little brother's arm, shattered.

“Jameson,” calls Chase, blinking warm blood from his eyes, trying to see in the darkness.

Jamie is a black silhouette beside him, unmoving.

“Jameson!” he cries again, struggling to breathe.

This can't be happening. They can't have survived this much only for a freak accident to take his last brother from him. Please, God, this can't be happening.

He unclips his seatbelt and shifts in his seat, crumpling against the dashboard and splitting blood onto its grey plastic surface. Through the shadows, he makes out the figure of the ancient tree currenly mashing faces with their stolen car.

They swerved off the road, into the forest. They are miles from civilization. They have no phones. Phones are unsafe. Anti, after all, utilizes internet signals and electricity the same way cowboys utilized horses.

Chase reaches out to touch Jameson's shoulder. Fumbling beside the steering wheel, his fingers find the light switch, yanking it up, and, to his enormous relief, one of the headlights resumes its duties, illuminating the creaking forest all around them. Something scurries away through the bushes.

Jameson is slicked in blood. He rests against the red glass-stained window of the driver's seat, as still and as white as the bones of a deer.

No, this wasn't an accident.

This was someone's fault.

“Hey, asshole,” howls Chase, tumbling out of the side of the car. His fingers dig into earth and twig and worm in the damp floor of the forest. “You've hurt my little brother! Come down here and help us! Why the fuck were you standing in the middle of the road?”

He remembers vaguely the dark shadow of the man, a cold form dressed all in black, with a hood drawn over its head, but he cannot see it now, cannot even make his eyes focus on the road.

“With each word, your tenderness grows...”

Chase startles, staring back at the car. He realizes, at the intersection of confusion and abject terror, that the CD player has just turned itself back on again.

He is a stiffened stag on the side of the road, unable to move, unable to breathe.

“Jameson,” he whispers, and turns away from the figure on the road. He takes it all back. He does not want the man to come down here. He does not want his help.

He crawls to Jameson's side, vomiting blood and his last meal as he drags himself towards his little brother and staggers to his feet, grabbing at the seatbelt that holds him in place.

“Tearing my fear apart,” sings Sinatra, growing louder. “And that laugh wrinkles your foolish heart... Lovely, never ever change...”

And then Chase sees the black-hooded figure of the man, standing close, beside the tree that connected with their car. His jeans are ripped and there, on his breast, a mockery – the letters “PMA” scrawled out in angular font.

“Jameson,” begs Chase, yanking desperately at the seatbelt, unable to get it loose. He scrambles to find a pulse in his neck instead, but his shaking fingers give him no hopeful reply.

“Keep that breathless charm! Won't you please arrange it?”

The CD display glitches.

Chase screams aloud, biting at the seatbelt, choking on the outcry of his broken ribs, hunted down at last, found at last, discovered and destroyed, alone. Finally, he manages to yank loose the seatbelt, but it means nothing. Reaching out to drag him away, he sees that Jameson's legs are crushed by the indent in the car, trapping him better than if he were chained.

Whimpering and gripping at his hair, Chase falls back. Anti is closer now, close enough to touch him, standing still by the engine of the car. His blue and brown eyes are like those of a cat's in the darkness, and Jameson is the rabbit he has caught.

And Chase understands that he cannot save his little brother.

But he could save himself.

“Go on, Chase Brody,” whispers Anti. “Try to run.”

His voice does not glitch. His body does not spasm. This is his victory, and in it not a single flaw is visible or spoken aloud. He has the perfect corpse to contain him.

“Please,” whispers Chase, touching Jameson's hand. “Please.”

“Don't beg after you've put up a fight for the first time in your life,” purrs Anti. His brown eye brightens slowly to green, glowing through the darkness. His hands are stuffed in Jack's hoodie pockets. “The two of you actually managed to evade me for quite some time. Don't you want to get away, Chase?”

He intones the name with a deep sarcasm, grinning around the ironic sound of it.

“I'll even let you run,” he promises. “I've started to enjoy this most dangerous game, hunting the two of you down across the country. You even slipped my vision once or twice. If you run now, I'll give you a two-day headstart, how does that sound? You might even be able to escape me.”

Chase's ribs are broken, but with adrenaline coursing through him, he thinks he could run, or at least stagger back to the highway and wait for help to come. He's got two hundred and forty dollars worth of cash shoved into his pockets, enough to keep him eating for a few days. He could hot wire another car. Escape the hospital before they could bill him. He could live.

“No. No. Not without him.”

Lost and desperate, terrified and resigned, he gives up the idea of escape and does the only thing he can think of – he crawls into the seat beside Jameson, wraps his body around him, and tries to protect his body from Anti.

Jameson is motionless beneath his hands. His face is split into sections of blood and protruding bone. Chase looks down at him and begins to howl, despair exploding through the cheap dam of optimism that has kept him alive for the past four months. Jameson only bleeds in reply.

“If you're going to kill us,” whispers Chase. “Then kill us.”

The stars are watching. Deer creep through the trees, wary and glorious, their eyes shining in the dying glow of the headlight. Here under the trees of the forest, Chase has found his ending.

He's ready to see his brothers. Ready to see Jameson happy and the others unharmed.

He closes his eyes and pictures their smiles, warmer than sunlight, lovely and golden, filling the land of salvation like milk and honey.

They are beautiful and wonderful and joyous, and he sees them now before him.

“Cause I love you!” sings Sinatra, and Anti strides forward, pulling the hood back from Jack's face. “Just the way you look tonight.”

#chase brody #antisepticeye #jameson jackson #writers of jack #jse egos #sorry i can't get the 'keep reading' to work!!!! #it's really annoying #long post #bee writes #tw vomit #tw car crash #tw blood #tw character death

[thebluemartini]

Under Your Spell - Nessian at Hogwarts AU Fanfic

TITILE: Under Your Spell SYNOPSIS: Hogwarts AU. One could say Cassian, a Gryffindor, has had an obsession with Nesta Archeron, a Slytherin, since their fourth year at Hogwarts. But as they enter their seventh and final year, Cassian realizes he has feelings for her and is determined to ask her out on a date before he runs out of time. He can only hope she'll agree to go out with him, considering they've spent the past few years bickering at each other. RATING: T FIC LENGTH: oneshot, 15K+ words SLIGHT WARNING: Tomas makes an appearance in this story, but when Nesta tells him to stop kissing and touching her, he does...he's just a royal jerk about it. *This fic is also posted on AO3 and FF. A/N: I was in the midst of drafting a post-ACOFAS Nessian multi-chapter fic when I got a bit of writer's block, then had read a tumblr post about what Hogwarts houses would the ACOTAR characters be in. A plot bunny was then born and I had to write this (despite not being one for AUs really...) because the thought of Nesta and Cassian at Hogwarts was SO CUTE to me!I just figured this oneshot would be around 5K words and not 15K words (!!!). I hope you enjoy it!

TAGGING some folks who have expressed interest in reading my Nessian fics in the past/Nessian-related blogs that may want to reblog :) (but I understand if a Hogwarts AU is not your thing!): @dreaming-of-bohemian-nights @queenofillea1@trash-for-nessian @nestaarcheronwillkillme @my-fan-side @strangeenemy @maastrash @cageddovepoetry

One could say Cassian has had an obsession with Nesta Archeron since their fourth year at Hogwarts.

As a Gryffindor, he didn’t pay Nesta much attention before then. She was a Slytherin after all. They surely had classes together, but he typically only hung around with his best friends, fellow Gryffindors Rhysand and Azriel.

But in their fourth year, during a Potions class, Cassian had his first significant interaction with Nesta.

Each student had been required to make a boil cure potion. Cassian had failed to make the potion correctly at first, having added snails instead of horned slugs to his concoction. So toward the end of class, he had to start the potion off from scratch and hurriedly put it together. In his rush, he had plopped the horned slugs into his brew, which happened to splash the unfinished potion onto Nesta’s arm as she walked by. Soon, big, red, pus-filled boils began to form not only on her arm but all over her body as she gave him the most horrifying glare that felt like it pierced his very soul. Then, in a bold move, she reached for the spoon beside him, stuck it into his brew, and purposefully splashed him back. Instantly, the boils covered his own body as he scowled at her.

The two of them had been sent to the hospital wing, where they were placed in beds next to each other. Despite his apology for accidentally splashing her, Nesta sent insults his way the entire afternoon, and Cassian felt compelled to fire back at her.

And ever since that day, they’ve always bickered at and teased each other.

At first, Cassian was truly annoyed with her whenever he saw her. But at some point over the years, he began seeking her out to playfully tease her because he grew to enjoy their interactions.

He wasn’t sure what it was about her. He simply felt drawn to her. Perhaps it was her boldness. Perhaps it was because she didn’t fawn over him and his friends like the other girls at Hogwarts did. Or maybe it was because she could verbally spar with him.

...As well as hold her own in a physical spar with him. In their fifth year, they had to duel each other in a Defense Against the Dark Arts class (using non-injurious spells, of course). With every spell he shot at her, she was always ready to shield herself and shoot one back. Neither of them were able to disarm the other, resulting in a tie.

Not only was she strong in intelligence and her fight, but she was beautiful. Cassian could never ignore that fact. From her high cheekbones to her luscious lips to the wicked amusement that would sometimes flicker in her smoky gray eyes...everything about her physique was alluring.

In fact, it was those captivating eyes of hers that had him beginning to question if he actually had feelings for her. Towards the end of their sixth year, he had been caught after curfew snogging with Hufflepuff Holly Langforden in a broom closet by Nesta. Upon finding them both with tousled hair and disheveled clothes, Nesta’s beautiful eyes widened in shock, then narrowed in irritation as, ever the prefect, she announced she was deducting ten points from both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff before angrily ordering them to return to their dormitories.

And yet, seeing Nesta’s shocked and fury-filled eyes had made him feel...guilty. If it was any other prefect who had caught them, he wouldn’t have felt bad at all. In fact, he’d been caught snogging other girls in broom closets multiple times since his fifth year, and it never bothered him one bit to be breaking the rules. It only bothered him that he couldn’t snog the girls a little while longer.

But Nesta finding him...had brought a weird feeling to his stomach. He didn’t cheerfully return to his dormitory afterwards as he usually would have done, having just made out with a girl. Instead, he walked at a slow pace, head cast down, with his hands in his pockets as he contemplated that strange feeling.

It was as though he felt sorry Nesta had caught him with someone else. That he regretted it instantly upon seeing Nesta open the door.

That he perhaps wished it was her he was actually snogging, untangling the crown braid around her head as he did so.

But he was quick to push that thought away. It had nearly been the summer anyway, and he had been certain he would soon forget all about her.

Well, he went off to Rhys’ home for the summer...and couldn’t forget about her.

All he could seem to think about was her.

The sight of books sprawled about Rhys’ home made him think of all the times he’d seen Nesta at the library. Rhys’ mother’s garden of various flowers had him remembering the one time he witnessed her sister placing flowers within Nesta’s hair as they sat beside the Great Lake. The grayness of the sky on stormy days reminded him of her eyes.  Even in the simple, silly things such as noticing the contrast of silverware at dinner against a green tablecloth brought his favorite Slytherin to mind.

He missed bickering with her. He missed her witty comebacks and her clever insults.

He just missed her.

And that was when he knew that he had to ask her out this year - their final year at Hogwarts. Before they went off to pursue their careers, he had to figure out whatever this thing with Nesta was...and if it was something that could last longer than their time at Hogwarts.

As he boarded the Hogwarts Express, with Rhys and Az following behind him, he searched for a compartment for them to sit. They’d been running pretty late, as usual, and most of the compartments were already full.

But towards the back, upon popping his head in one compartment, Cassian was delighted to find Nesta’s two sisters...with an empty spot next to them that would likely be filled by her.

And space to fit three more passengers across from them.

Cassian’s face beamed, and he felt his heart race as he asked, “Mind if we join you ladies?”

“Oh, please do,” Elain said sweetly with a kind smile, while Feyre nodded in agreement.

Cassian nodded in thanks to them. He had only ever had very brief interactions with Elain. She was a sixth-year Hufflepuff, and he didn’t see her often. He knew Feyre only slightly better since she was a fellow housemate, just two years younger than him.

Rhys and Az followed behind him into the compartment, and he could see the faces of Elain and Feyre brighten as everyone greeted each other.

Cassian plopped down in the seat across from the empty one he had assumed Nesta would soon fill. His heart began to pound at the prospect of seeing her after such a long summer without her.

A summer of dreaming about her and hoping he could go out with her.

Elain seemed to catch him looking at the empty space beside her. “Nesta’s in the prefect’s compartment, but she usually stops by to see us.”

Cassian hoped his disappointment didn’t show on his face. The prefect’s compartment...he had completely forgotten about the special perks of being a prefect.

But that also meant that as a prefect, she would have to patrol the train’s corridor at some point today. The thought brought a slight grin to his face. He could just make...periodic visits to the bathroom, maybe linger a bit in the train corridor, with the hope of seeing Nesta.

So for the following six hours aboard the train, that’s what he did. At the top of each hour, he’d make a leisurely walk to and from the bathroom...and sometimes get scolded by a prefect who wasn’t Nesta.

At one point, Rhys and Az thought something was wrong with him for having to go to the bathroom so many times. Not wanting to admit his true intentions in front of Nesta’s sisters, he simply insisted he was bored of just sitting around and needed to keep moving.

But now he was actually bored of pretending to go to the bathroom with no success of seeing Nesta. Cassian sighed as he stared out the glass window and watched the green scenery roll by as dusk fell. Rhys and Az were still in casual conversation with Feyre and Elain...but Cassian’s anxiousness over seeing Nesta prevented him from paying any attention to them.

Cassian glanced down at his watch. It was nearly an hour since he last left the compartment and probably about two hours until they reached Hogwarts. He supposed he could go ahead and change into his robes now before the mad dash of students going to the bathroom.

Grabbing his robes from his suitcase and stepping out of the compartment, he slowly turned his head from the left to the right, searching for any sign of a prefect.

And there was none. Cassian groaned before turning left and headed to the bathroom.

Once he put on his new robes, he left the bathroom and wandered down the corridor past his compartment. Every prefect had a shift to patrol the corridor. Surely, with two hours to go, Nesta would be out here.

As he casually walked along, he eventually stopped in between two compartments and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms against his chest with the clothes he had just changed out of draped over one of his arms. He might as well just wait for her to show up...and then she could scold him for hanging around in the passageway.

And so he waited.

And waited.

And then finally…

“Get back in your compartment!” a familiar voice reprimanded him from his right. Cassian turned up his head at her and smiled brightly. There Nesta stood, with her familiar stormy eyes and her stern expression. Her light pink lips glowed against her sun-kissed skin, and her braid crown made her seem angelic despite her irritated expression. Had she somehow become more beautiful over the summer or had he simply misremembered her beauty?

Nesta held up her wand and directed it at him.

“But I’m rather enjoying this view,” Cassian said with a smirk as he stared at her intently.

“Go back to your compartment and look at the scenery outside the window if you’re looking for a view,” Nesta suggested in a steely tone.

“But this view is so much prettier,” he said, still grinning and still intently staring at her. He could count the few small freckles on her nose.

(There were seven.)

A light pink blush briefly covered Nesta’s cheeks, and upon seeing it, Cassian longed to have many opportunities where he could make her blush.

“Is that the same line you used to get Holly Langforden to jump in a broom closet with you?” Nesta asked drily.

At first, Cassian frowned. But the fact that she even remembered who she caught him in a broom closet with…

“No. But does it make you want to jump in a broom closet with me?”

“Absolutely not,” she answered coldly. “Why don’t you go find her compartment anyway and see if that line works? Isn’t she your girlfriend?”

“You sure seem interested in my love life. Are you jealous?” he smirked at her.

“Any woman that takes your attention away from me has both my gratitude and my sympathy,” she stated snobbily.

Cassian frowned again. “Well, for your information, I broke up with her before the summer,” he replied.

“What a shame for me. But a relief for her at least.”

“You know you missed me this summer, Archeron. Admit it,” he teased her, but secretly hoped she actually did miss him as much as he missed her.

“I did not miss being annoyed by you one bit. Now get back to your compartment,” Nesta prodded his upper arm with her wand, gesturing for him to get a move on.

Cassian gradually started moving, and Nesta followed him to ensure he returned to his compartment.

As Cassian slid open the door to his compartment, he heard Nesta let out a small gasp behind him.

“Nesta!” Elain shouted upon seeing her behind him.

Cassian took his seat and looked back to Nesta to find her frowning more deeply at him as well as Rhys and Az.

“What are you doing sharing a compartment with my sisters?” she asked in an annoyed tone.

“Nesta, they needed a place to sit!” Elain tried to explain, but Nesta just continued to stare intently at Cassian.

Stars, he loved her eyes even when they glowered at him.

“Nes, there was nowhere else for us to sit, except for the aisle, where I would’ve gotten run over by the trolley,” Cassian stated.

“That sounds like it would’ve been the perfect place for you to sit,” Nesta spat. “And don’t call me Nes!”

“Well, maybe it would’ve been the perfect spot because you could’ve found me in the aisle and scolded me for being there, and I could’ve seen your beautiful face much sooner,” Cassian said as he winked at her.

Elain and Feyre giggled at his comment and looked up at Nesta expectantly, wanting to see how she would respond. Rhys and Az’s eyes widened in amusement at his comment.

The seam of Nesta’s lips remained in a straight line across her face, clearly unimpressed with his reply. “You better not have corrupted my sisters.”

“Nesta!” Feyre exclaimed. “They have done no such thing.”

“You’ve brain-washed them already, I see,” Nesta said, still not removing her eyes from Cassian’s. Feyre sighed out of frustration.

“Nesta, here’s your book. It was in my bag,” Elain said, changing the subject as she dug through her sack and pulled out a book to give to Nesta.

As Nesta accepted the book, Cassian noticed it was a Potions textbook.

And that could mean…

“Nesta, are you taking Potions this year?”

Nesta didn’t deign to verbally respond to him. Instead, she just firmly nodded.

“Perhaps, we’ll share a Potions class then,” Cassian added. 

Nesta let out a frustrated sigh. “I’ll see you two later,” Nesta said with a look to her sisters. Then turning to him, Rhy and Az, she gave them a cold look. “Don’t you dare corrupt them.”

Nesta turned and left the compartment, ignoring her sisters’ protests at her statement.

Cassian could only sigh contentedly at having seen Nesta. Despite her insults, his heart was pumping wildly within him.

He’d never had such a reaction over simply talking to a girl before.

If his summer of daydreaming of her wasn’t enough, this was further proof that Nesta was...different. Special. Someone he wanted to spend time with and not just snog in broom closets like some of the other girls.

Cassian suddenly discovered Rhys and Az staring at him.

“What?”

“That look on your face...I’ve never seen that look on your face before,” Rhys said.

“What look?”

“Like you’re hopelessly in love,” Az piped in.

Elain and Feyre squealed with delight hearing this.

Well, he wasn’t sure if he was in love with her, but he certainly wanted to get to know her better.

“Are you going to ask her out?” Elain asked excitedly.

“Soon. But please don’t say anything to her,” Cassian coolly replied before turning to stare out the window, thinking about possible ideas for what he and Nesta could do for their first date.

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

It took Cassian three weeks to figure out what he and Nesta could do for their date.

The date of the first Hogsmeade trip had been announced, which was a little less than two weeks from now. It was the perfect place for a first date, considering there were plenty of shops to explore as well as places to eat together. It was an excellent opportunity for them to really get to know each other.

Now he just actually had to ask her to go with him and hope she would accept.

The two of them indeed ended up having the same Potions class, which occurred twice a week on Tuesdays and Thursdays. And every class, Cassian made sure to talk to her and always slip in some sort of comment about how beautiful she was, causing her to blush each time before she told him she had to get to working on the assigned potion and suggested he go do the same.

At least she didn’t angrily tell him to go away. And to Cassian, that was progress. Perhaps she was slowly succumbing to his charm.

But today was the day he would finally ask her to go out with him.

And as luck would have it, their Potions professor announced he did not have enough ingredients for everyone to make an individual potion that day and they would all have to work with a partner instead. Typically, students worked with a fellow housemate, but this class just so happened to have an odd number of Gryffindors and an odd number of Slytherins….

Cassian couldn’t help but grin to himself as he dashed over to the table Nesta was standing at.

“Nesta, will you be my partner?” Cassian asked casually.

Nesta quickly scanned the room and saw everyone else had paired off already. “Well I guess I have no other choice.” She immediately opened up the textbook to the page that listed the potion directions and began walking around the room to gather all the ingredients.

She didn’t get angry or upset over being his partner.

Progress.

But now...Cassian had to do the actual asking her out on a date part, and that sent his heart racing.

This never happened with any of the other girls he’d asked out...except for maybe the first time he ever asked a girl out. But ever since then, asking girls out came easily to him and he never got worked up over it.

But now…

Cassian didn’t understand what was wrong with him.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” Nesta reprimanded him as she appeared at his side and set down a multitude of vials and jars. “Be useful.”

Cassian immediately picked up the textbook and read aloud the first instruction to her. Nesta listened to his words, picking up the jar of powdered moonstone and dumping it into the cauldron that sat on the table before them.

“What next?” Nesta asked.

“Uh, then add three spoonfuls of honeywater,” he said a bit shakily. His nerves were getting to him.

Nesta eyed him suspiciously. “Are you sure that’s what it says? You don’t sound confident.”

He just needed to ask her out and get this over with.

“Yes, three spoonfuls of honeywater,” he reiterated.

Nesta pulled the cork out of the vial of honeywater, then picked up the spoon and began pouring the honeywater onto it, hovering over the top of the cauldron before adding the first spoonful to their concoction.

“Uh, Nesta…” Cassian began, his heart feeling like it would burst through his chest at any moment. He wondered if she could hear it.

“Hmm?” Nesta was focused on putting the second spoonful into their potion and began working on the third.

“Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?”

Nesta’s eyes widened and she immediately looked away from her spoon to look up at him. “Excuse me?”

“Would you like to go on the Hogsmeade trip that’s coming up...with me ?” he said, not really sure what else she was looking for him to say.

“Like a date?”

“Yes.”

“Are you serious?” she questioned him incredulously. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“Yes, I’m serious. No, it’s not a joke,” Cassian instantly insisted. “I honestly want to take you out on a date.”

“Darn it,” Nesta exclaimed upon realizing she had still been pouring honeywater onto the spoon, causing it to overflow and spill into their cauldron. “Look what you made me do! Now our potion will probably come out wrong,” she said in a frustrated tone as she put down the vial and the spoon. “You and your games,” she muttered.

“Nesta, I’m sorry. This isn’t a game. I truly want to go with you to Hogsmeade,” Cassian explained.

“Why?”

“Because I want to spend time with you.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you, and I want to get to know you better.”

Nesta’s eyes widened even more at his confession, and she said nothing as she fumbled around for something, anything it seemed, on the table.

“So will you honor me with your presence and go to Hogsmeade with me?” Cassian asked again.

“I can’t. Someone else already asked me to go with him,” Nesta explained softly.

Her response brought Cassian a flood of emotions. First, fury because who in the world dared to ask Nesta to Hogsmeade before him? Second, sadness because he wasn’t going to be able to go to Hogsmeade with her. Third, hope...because Nesta didn’t outright deny wanting to go out with him. She simply said she could not go because of another date…

“Who?” Cassian wondered.

“Tomas Mandray.”

“Tomas Mandray?” Cassian exclaimed in disgust, his mouth dropping open. “That piece of Slytherin scum?!”

“He is not a piece of scum,” Nesta stated sternly. “And in case you’ve forgotten, I’m a Slytherin too.”

“I know. I didn’t mean you were scum...just that he himself was the Slytherin type of scum,” Cassian explained awkwardly.

Nesta simply shook her head, completely perplexed. “Let’s get back to the potion,” she said.

“Will you go out with me some other time then?” Cassian blurted out, ignoring her request.

“Did you make some bet that you could get me to go on a date with you or what?” Nesta questioned him, her voice quickly returning to its irritated tone. “Or maybe you just wanted to see if you could get my hopes up by asking me on a date and then stand me up for fun.”

“No, Nesta,” Cassian said urgently as he put down the textbook on the table. He grabbed her hands and stared into her eyes. “This isn’t a game or a joke or a bet. I honestly want to go out with you.”

Nesta took a deep breath as she stared back at him. “I don’t believe you,” she said softly.

“What can I do to prove it to you?” Cassian pleaded quietly.

“Well, it doesn’t really matter, does it? I’m going out with Tomas and who knows...Maybe it will lead to more dates,” Nesta said simply as she pulled her hands out of his grasp.

How could he not have asked soon enough? The Hogsmeade date was only announced just the day before...

Damn Tomas Mandray.

The man was a complete and utter dolt and a total snob. Him and Cassian had never gotten along, so they’d always kept their distance from each other.

Crestfallen, Cassian simply lifted up the textbook once more and began to read off the directions in a monotone voice.

Nesta followed his instructions perfectly.

But there was no teasing, no playful bickering, no insults.

They didn’t say anything to each other with the exception of the reading of the instructions.

And it just didn’t feel...right to him. For them to be like this.

After having gotten his hopes up about a date with Nesta...he felt so disappointed. What was he supposed to do now?

At the end of class, they parted ways without a word to each other.

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

Cassian spent the days leading up to the Hogsmeade trip moping around. Even Rhys and Az called him out in it.

“You’re seriously this depressed that a Slytherin can’t go out with you? Let alone one who’s been moody and vicious to you?” Rhys had asked him one afternoon upon seeing him just lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling instead of venturing outside like he usually would have done.

“There’s more to her than that cold exterior,” Cassian had told him calmly.

When he had seen Nesta during their next few Potions classes, he still acknowledged her...he just didn’t really talk to her or tease her like he would’ve done previously.

And it just felt...strange. Like the joy of going to class was gone.

He’d been rejected before. That was nothing new.

But he had spent so many months longing for a date with Nesta...that for it to not happen was...heartbreaking.

And now the day of the Hogsmeade trip was here, and he still felt grumpy over the whole thing. He didn’t bother trying to find another date. He considered no longer going, but Rhys and Az managed to drag him along anyway.

They found themselves a table at the Three Broomsticks, and each had a pint of butterbeer before them.

“Do you think he’s going to take her Madam Puddifoot’s?” Cassian suddenly wondered aloud.

Az and Rhys gave him a bewildered look. “What are you talking about?” Rhys asked.

“Tomas and Nesta. Do you think he’s going to take her to Madam Puddifoot’s?” Cassian replied. “He probably is...he would do something completely unoriginal,” he muttered bitterly.

Az and Rhys sighed. “Cassian, you’ve got to stop thinking about this,” Az said.

“I can’t.”

“This isn’t even a breakup,” Rhys stated. “Just let it go.”

Cassian ran a hand through his hair. “It isn’t that simple.”

“What kind of hold does this girl have on you? You’ve never had this problem before with other girls.”

Cassian sighed as he slumped in his seat. “I don’t know.”

As he took another sip of butterbeer, he couldn’t help but wonder if Nesta was sipping a beverage just as sweet at the tea shop.

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

Today marked an important day for Nesta.

It was not only her first date with Tomas Mandray, but her first date...ever.

During her years at Hogwarts, she mostly kept to herself, not really wanting to deal with anyone else...or having the patience to really. She preferred the company of books over others, so she didn’t exactly have friends...just her sisters.

At times she felt perfectly content to spend most of her time alone and independently.

But there were times where she felt...utterly alone. Like no one cared or noticed her.

She was shocked when Tomas approached her in the Slytherin common room the other week to ask her to go to Hogsmeade with him. For once, someone actually noticed her…

Tomas was handsome and of good breeding. He came from a wealthy and highly-regarded family. His father worked in the Ministry of Magic...a connection that could potentially benefit Nesta in her future dream career, considering she wanted to work in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Tomas was also intelligent and cunning...Overall, very respectable.

And the complete opposite of the long, dark-haired Gryffindor who had spent the past few years annoying her and teasing her.

Nesta shook her head. She shouldn’t be wasting time thinking about him.

Especially when she was currently trying to listen to Tomas rattle about his quidditch accomplishments from across the table.

From her walk with Tomas to Hogsmeade to their arrival at Madam Puddifoot’s, they shared light conversation. Even though they were in the same year and same house, they didn’t know each other too well.

...Yet Tomas seemed to only really care that she get to know him well. He hardly asked anything about her.

But she continued to listen. She figured he probably was just nervous.

As soon as she took her last sip of tea, Tomas abruptly grabbed hold of her hand. “Let’s get out of here.” Pulling her away from the table, he whisked her out of the tea shop.

When they stepped outside, Tomas wrapped his arm around her, letting his hand rest at her waist and pulled her closer to him.

Nesta’s body tensed as he did so, feeling slightly alarmed that such touching was happening so soon, so quickly. She wasn’t used to affection from family to begin with, let alone with someone she didn’t know terribly well.

He led her through the crowds, then turned down an alleyway that was between Madam Puddifoot’s and another shop. It was empty, but the hustle and bustle of the students could still be heard. Opening up a door at the back of Madam Puddifoots, Tomas pulled her inside, where there were shelves of various teas. Clearly, it was a storage room for the tea shop.

As soon as he closed the door behind them, Tomas yanked her close to him. “Nesta, you are...so beautiful,” he remarked huskily as he cupped her face and quickly tilted his head down to capture her lips in a fierce kiss.

Stunned, Nesta could not move away. This wasn’t how it happened in the books she read. Usually, the characters knew each other at least a bit before they kissed. She wasn’t ready for this. She hardly knew him.

Her heart was pounding as he leaned in for another kiss, moving one of his hands to her thigh against her leggings beneath the fabric of her skirt. When his other hand started playing with the waistband of her skirt, threatening to tug it down, the movement startled her enough that she no longer felt frozen. Regaining her senses, she firmly stepped away from him before he could kiss her once more. “No,” she stated forcefully.

Tomas gave her a peculiar look, but then a grin spread across his face. “Oh, you want to find a place that’s more comfortable? I know a spot…” he remarked as he reached to grab her hand.

But Nesta quickly stepped back once more so she was out of his reach. “No,” she reiterated emphatically as she crossed her arms. She wished she’d brought her wand with her so she could blast him away from her. “I don’t want to snog you, nor do I want to sleep with you, you disgusting pig.”

Tomas’ eyes narrowed at her and stared at her for a moment, taking a few deep breaths as he did so. Then, he suddenly started towards the door, roughly brushing against her shoulder as he passed. “Then what else are you fuckin’ mudbloods even good for?” he angrily remarked before leaving the room and rejoining the crowds of students.

Nesta watched him through the open door as he left the alleyway.

Fury raged through her at the words he just said, at him being an egotistical jerk, at herself for not recognizing him as the jerk he was and for foolishly believing that he could ever honestly like a girl like her. She’d been so terribly stupid and felt so...used.

But part of her believed the words he said of her. What else was she good for? She’d never been the friendliest or the kindest person. She kept to herself most of the time and came from a family of no special importance. She was a nobody...someone who wasn’t worth caring about.

And even though she strived to become someone more, someone worthy of admiration...there was always something that pulled her back from such delusions.

Before she could stop them, tears slowly started to fall from her eyes.

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

After Cassian sipped his last bit of butterbeer, he looked up at his friends with a miserable expression. “I think I’m going to head back to the castle. I’m not in the mood to walk around.”

“No, Cassian, we’ll head to Zonko’s,” Rhys said. “You always have fun looking around there.”

Cassian sighed. It was true. He always enjoyed seeing the many prankster items at Zonko’s...but he simply was not in the mood for it this time.

“Not today,” he replied. “I’ll see you guys later.”

Rhys and Az looked at him with concern as he got up from the table and walked out of the Three Broomsticks.

Upon stepping outside into the cool autumn air, he took a deep breath. He wished he could enjoy the day with his friends...but he just...couldn’t.

As he weaved his way through the many gleeful students, his mind wandered, causing him to lose focus on his surroundings. In his daze, he accidentally bumped into one student’s shoulder, nearly knocking her to the ground.

When he turned his head to look at the girl, he realized it was none other than Nesta.

...who happened to be alone.

“Nesta!” Cassian exclaimed, and she tilted her head up to look at him. “I’m so sorry!”

Her eyes widened upon seeing him, and Cassian could see they were red-rimmed...as if she had been crying.

“You should...watch where you’re going,” Nesta remarked weakly. There was no sharp bite to her reprimand.

It was so unlike her.

She turned to walk away, but Cassian was quick to reach out and grab her hand, stopping her in her tracks. “Nesta, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said without looking at him. Instead, she continued to stand still with her eyes focused on the ground. “May I go now?” she asked, feeling annoyed.

He felt she would’ve yanked her hand out of his grip by now, but she didn’t.

“Did Tomas hurt you?” he asked, his voice tinged with anger. “Do I need to hex him?”

“If you do, I’ll have to deduct points from Gryffindor.”

Cassian released a frustrated sigh. “If he hurt you, then that doesn’t matter to me. What happened?”

“Nothing,” she replied. “Let go of my hand.”

Cassian immediately released her hand. “Where are you going?”

“Back to the castle,” she said as she began to walk away from him.

Cassian started to follow her, quickening his pace to catch up to her. He said nothing when he reached her side, instead choosing to simply match her stride.

With a quick glance to him beside her, she frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Going back to the castle,” he answered.

“Why are you following me?”

“I’m not. I was already on my way back to the castle when I bumped into you,” he stated. “So we might as well walk back together.”

Nesta said nothing in response to that. Instead, she pointed her head forward and continued along the path.

They walked in silence for a little while, but that was beginning to drive Cassian crazy. First of all, she didn’t seem herself. He thought for sure she would put up a fight to him walking with her. Something was off, and he needed her to return to her true self.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out some goodies he had purchased at Honeydukes before he had gone to the Three Broomsticks. “Do you want a chocolate frog? They’re your favorite, right?”

Nesta crossed her arms across her chest as she walked. “And how would you know they’re my favorite?”

Cassian held out a chocolate frog as he shoved the other candies back into his pocket. “Last year, after a Defense Against the Dark Arts class where we faced boggarts, Elain brought chocolate frogs over to you at lunch to help you feel...less spooked.”

Nesta turned her head slightly to the side, and one of her eyebrows rose into an arch. “Have you been stalking me?”

Cassian shook his head. “That day, you just seemed so horrified by your boggart that I...just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Except you chose to do so from afar, instead of coming up to me yourself,” Nesta stated.

“As if you would have accepted any help from me,” Cassian insisted. “You probably would’ve insisted you were fine and then would announce you were deducting five points from Gryffindor for me thinking otherwise.”

After that comment, he could see the corners of her mouth threatening to twitch upwards, but she fought the smile. The near-smile made Cassian grin.

“It would have been ten points,” she admitted.

Cassian chuckled and stuck out his hand again, motioning for her to accept the chocolate frog.

Nesta eyed it warily. “Is this another one of your ways of trying to get girls to jump in a broom closet with you? Find them when they’re down, then offer them chocolate?”

“Do you think all I do everyday is try to convince girls to snog me?” he asked, offended that she thought of him this way.

“Considering how many times prefects find you snogging a girl in a broom closet, yes,” she answered firmly, still not taking the chocolate frog.

“So you’ve talked about me with the other prefects?” he said with a smirk.

Nesta rolled her eyes. “We always have to go over how we’re deducting points and who the biggest culprits are.”

“You’ve still talked about me,” he said with a smirk.

“Only about what a pain in the ass you are.”

“And yet who’s the one offering you some chocolate and being insulted?”

“I’m not in the mood for chocolate. Especially if it was rejected by all the other girls you probably tried to charm today,” Nesta sneered as they approached the Hogwarts castle.

This time, Cassian rolled his eyes. “It really is no surprise that you’re patronus is a puma. Always ready to pounce on my ego.”

Nesta stopped and faced him, her arms still crossed against her chest. Her eyes softened. “You remember what my patronus is?” she asked quietly.

Cassian halted and simply nodded back at her. “It’s pretty impressive. Its form is more distinct than anyone else in our year.” He watched as her face turned a light pink.

After a brief moment of silence, Cassian spoke again. “So if you aren’t in the mood for chocolate, what are you in the mood for?”

“Lunch,” she said with a sigh as she glanced down at her watch. “But it looks like we’re past the lunch service time in the Great Hall.”

“What do you want for lunch?”

Nesta eyed him skeptically. “What does it matter? We’ve missed lunch.”

Cassian nearly sighed. She always had to make things difficult. “What do you wish you could have had for lunch?”

Nesta shrugged. “Pancakes.”

“Then let’s go get you pancakes,” Cassian said eagerly.

“What are you talking about? Lunch is over. Plus, Hogwarts hardly even makes pancakes.”

“Please just trust me for once,” he said as he began walking to a castle entryway at a slow pace. He paused at the door and turned his head back toward Nesta, waiting for her to follow him.

Nesta stared at him for a minute. Her eyes were curious and unsure. But eventually she put her arms down at her sides and her feet inched forward to follow after him.

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

“I’ve never been here before,” Nesta commented as she stared at the room around her, filled with house elves wandering about with pots and pans.

“I’m usually starving after Quidditch practice, so I was determined to find the kitchens so I could come get a snack,” Cassian said.

One house elf ambled up to Cassian, lifting up a large plate of pancakes drizzled with syrup as far as she could reach, which was up to Cassian’s waist.

Cassian bent over to take the plate from her hands. “Thank you, Ollie,” he said graciously, then grabbed some utensils off a nearby counter. 

Beaming, Cassian looked over at Nesta. “Let’s go eat,” he announced before turning to leave the kitchens.

“We’re leaving?”

“Yes. This isn’t a proper place for us to eat.”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a secret,” Cassian said, then turned back to her and found her looking quite annoyed and perplexed. “Just trust me again. I haven’t let you down yet,” he added as he waved the plate of pancakes around.

Again, she seemed hesitant, but resigned herself to follow him again.

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

The two of them headed to the staircase and kept walking further and further up. Nesta wondered if Cassian even had a set spot in mind to eat or if he was just on some hunt to find an area to sit. It wasn’t until they had reached the seventh floor that they got off the stairs and headed down a corridor.

Suddenly, Cassian stopped in front of a wall tapestry that depicted some wizard and trolls wearing ballet shoes. There weren’t any places to sit, nor were there any rooms nearby, causing Nesta to wonder...what the hell were they doing here.

Cassian turned to her and handed her the plate of pancakes and utensils. “Hold this for a minute.”

Nesta’s eyebrow rose out of curiosity as Cassian began to walk a few paces, then turned around to walk a few more paces, then turned around again to walk a bit more.

When she was about to question aloud what he was doing, a door suddenly appeared in the wall across from the tapestry.

What the…

Her eyes grew big when Cassian opened the door and gestured for her to enter before him. “After you.”

Eyeing him suspiciously, she slowly walked towards the door. Without stepping inside, she peeked her head into the room and found multiple shelves of books, a small table with two chairs, and a few couches. “What is this place?”

“It’s called the Room of Requirement. It only appears if someone has great need of it. And we are in great need of an area to sit and eat and enjoy ourselves.”

Carefully, Nesta stepped inside the room. There were so many shelves of books in the room, it looked like it was a library. She longed to see what books were there, but she knew her stomach was getting ready to growl any moment now. She needed to eat.

As she set the plate of pancakes down on the small table in the center of the room and sat down, Cassian took the seat across from her.

“So you just...picture the room you need as you walk back and forth in the corridor and then it will appear?” Nesta asked him.

“Basically,” Cassian answered, picking up the fork and digging into the pancakes.

Nesta picked up the other fork and took a stab into a fluffy flat cake. “Why did you want this type of room?”

Cassian swallowed the piece of food he was chewing, then opened his mouth to speak. “Well, you love libraries, don’t you? That’s where I always seem to find you outside of class.”

How was it that this boy before her seemed to know her so well? This boy that she always treated as if he was a pestering pixie?

Thinking back to the past few years, it was true that he occasionally found her at the Hogwarts library. He always had to come by her and caused some kind of commotion, either commenting on the book she was reading or the faces she was making as she was reading or some other inane topic. His talking with her always sent Madam Pince scurrying over to them to reprimand them and threaten to kick them out.

Nesta nodded in response to Cassian’s question as she took another bite of her pancake. “How did you did you discover this place?”

At her question, Cassian’s cheeks turned slightly pink and Nesta knew immediately that she had to know the answer to this question.

When Cassian remained silent, Nesta prodded him. “How?”

“Because I needed a broom closet,” he muttered.

Amusement flowed through her at his words. She smirked. “And why did you need a broom closet?” she asked. “Especially since there are so many others in the castle you could have used.”

“When I was in fifth year, there was this seventh-year girl from Ravenclaw who didn’t want to be caught by her friends snogging a fifth-year, and so I happened to talk to Ollie about it and she told me about this room.”

For some reason, the thought of Cassian bringing another girl here didn’t sit well with her.

But she pushed that hurt to the side and focused on the fact that she was justified in thinking that Cassian was always on the hunt for girls to snog in broom closets.

“Wow, an older woman,” she commented, managing to summon some enthusiasm. “Did you run out of new girls to snog from your own year? Excluding the Slytherins of course,” she was quick to note.

Cassian gave her a look that showed he wasn’t too pleased with her insinuation. “No.”

“Do you just prefer older women then?”

“That depends. When is your birthday?”

“November 1st,” she reluctantly answered in between chewing her pancake.

Cassian’s mouth spread into a wide grin as he stared intently at her. “Considering you’re about two months older than me, then yes, I’d say older women are my preference.”

Her cheeks suddenly felt very warm.

But was this just what Cassian did to all the girls? Make them feel like they were special, kiss them senseless, then drop them as if they were nothing? Was this just part of the usual charm he put on?

Suddenly no longer feeling hungry, Nesta put down her fork and got up to explore the books in the room.

Running her fingers along the spines of the books, she read through the titles. Spellbound After Midnight. Romancing the Womanizing Wizard. Charming the Enchantress.

They all appeared to be romance novels.

Her favorite.

None of the titles seemed familiar. When she was at home, she was only able to read muggle romance novels. The Hogwarts Library only contained a handful of non-school-related books, so to have shelves of unread romance novels written by witches and wizards before her was a complete thrill.

Pulling one book off the shelf, she made her way to the crimson couch on the other side of the room. Sitting down, she opened the book and began reading the first chapter.

A few pages in, she saw Cassian approach her out of the corner of her eye and proceed to plop down in the couch across from her.

When she turned the page, she could feel him staring at her.

A few more page turns later, she could still feel him staring at her.

Putting her book down in her lap, still opened to the page she was on, she looked up at him. “Don’t you want to read a book or something?” she questioned him in an irritated voice.

“I am perfectly content studying and memorizing the features of your face,” he answered.

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Stop lying.”

“I’m not lying,” he said as he continued to stare at her. “You’re beautiful.”

The same words Tomas had said to her earlier that day.

Was Cassian just like him, only more patient? Was he willing to spend more time trying to flatter her to get her to sleep with him?

But the way Cassian said those words was different compared to the way Tomas said them. Tomas’ tone made it sound like he was praising a prized object he was thrilled to have in his possession, while Cassian sounded like he was truly admiring her.

Of course, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was how he treated all the other girls he’d been with.

And yet, she remained here in this room with him, instead of bursting out as soon as she was fed. The fact that he remembered her patronus, her love of chocolates and reading...perhaps that’s what made her stay. What made her want to find out if Cassian spoke truthfully about wanting to get to know her better.

“Well, I can’t read if you’re staring at me.”

“I apologize,” he said, finally shifting his gaze over to a nearby shelf.

Nesta looked over to the shelves too and saw one was filled with games and puzzles instead of books. Closing her book and placing it beside her on the couch cushion, she stood up. “Are you up for a wizard’s chess match?”

Cassian grinned a little too mischievously. “Absolutely. Prepare to be beaten, Archeron.”

“We’ll see about that.”

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

“I demand a rematch,” Cassian insisted after Nesta had just shouted “Checkmate!” and smiled proudly at him. He was too competitive for his own good.

But he was also obsessed with the focus Nesta had during the game. As she analyzed the board and the pieces throughout, he could envision the cogs within her brain clinking together as she determined what to do next. From the way her lips would move slightly to the left when she was deep in thought to the way she would occasionally squint her eyes when looking at the board, Cassian was mesmerized. And then when she would make her move, she did so with such confidence and assuredness, it was captivating.

“We’ve already played three times,” Nesta, sitting on the floor on the opposite side of the chess board from him and completely clueless to the effect she had on him, pointed out. “Can your ego simply not take being beaten by a girl?”

“No. I just want to learn how to play like you. How did you learn to play like that?”

“My father taught me how to play muggle chess when I was young,” Nesta revealed. The expression on Nesta’s face turned glum, causing Cassian to frown.

“What’s wrong? What did I say?” he immediately asked, nervous that he was ruining this moment with her.

Nesta shook her head. “It’s nothing. It’s just…” she trailed off.

“Go on,” Cassian encouraged her gently.

“My father...made some bad investments and ran his business into the ground a few years ago. He hasn’t been the same since.”

“How so?”

Nesta took a shaky breath. “It’s like he’s lost the will to live. He hasn’t even bothered trying to find another job. He doesn’t even want to take care of our family, nor does he really care to hear from us. Thankfully, we have Hogwarts to come to for most of the year…”

Cassian’s frown grew deeper. He was aware that their mother had passed away long before she came to Hogwarts. That meant they only had their father to provide for them…

“What does that mean? What happens during the summers?”

“Feyre managed to get lucky this past summer and got a job at a nearby grocery store thanks to a friend. Elain and I have had trouble getting jobs since we can only work during the summers, but sometimes the neighbors will pay for us to do chores for them around the house. We get by,” she shrugged.  

Cassian stopped himself from letting his mouth drop open in shock. “What happens to your father when you’re here at Hogwarts?”

“Our neighbors help take care of him.”

Cassian shook his head. “Nesta, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. If I had known…”

Nesta held up her hand and cut him off. “Stop it, Cassian. There is no need to beat yourself up for it.”

Cassian stared at her, sadness filling his heart. The whole summer, he had been obsessing over her and thinking of her nearly everyday. Meanwhile, she’d been trying to...survive.

“If it’s any consolation...my father walked out on me and my mother shortly after I was born. He went to be someone else’s husband and father. And then my mother passed away a few years later,” Cassian revealed quietly.

Nesta glanced up at him with sympathetic eyes. “I’m sorry, Cassian,” she whispered.

“I didn’t mean for you to feel sorry for me. I just wanted you to know that...you’re aren’t alone in having an...awful dad.”

“It’s nice to know there’s someone...who understands,” she said gently.

Cassian gave her a small smile. “It is,” he agreed. His breathing slowed as he stared into her eyes and Nesta stared back in silence. He wished he could lean forward and kiss her, but he still couldn’t tell just yet if she liked him or not.

Suddenly, Nesta broke their staring contest “Let’s play another game,” she said abruptly as she stood up to walk past him and look at the shelf of games. “How about Exploding Snap?”

“How about Truth or Dare?” Cassian suggested instead, twisting his body to look up at her from his spot on the ground and smirk at her. Maybe he could better figure out Nesta’s feelings during such a game.

Nesta scowled at him.

“Too scared to play?” he teased her.

She crossed her arms against her chest. “Fine. Truth or dare?”

Cassian thought for a moment. “Truth.” Nesta clasped her hands behind her back as she strolled about the room, looking again at all the books that surrounded them. “How many girls have you brought to this room, including me?”

“One.”

Nesta halted her steps to look back at Cassian sitting on the floor. She looked completely bewildered. “I said ‘including me.’”

“I know,” he said. “It’s only been you.”

“But the seventh-year Ravenclaw - ”

“I ended up not bringing her here after realizing I shouldn’t be with someone who’s ashamed to be seen with me.”

“Wow, so you actually have standards,” she remarked.

Choosing to let her comment slide, he resumed their game. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” she instantly said.

There wasn’t much that could be done to embarrass someone when you’re playing in a secret room with no other people around. And he certainly didn’t want to leave the room just yet for risk of ruining this time with Nesta. Just the two of them had been...pleasant. “I dare you to give me a compliment.” He looked at her devilishly.

Nesta took a deep breath and squinted her eyes, while in deep thought.

“Any day now,” Cassian pressed her when she remained quiet for over a minute.

“My apologies. It’s hard to think of something,” she said casually as she sauntered around him.

Looking unimpressed, Cassian crossed his arms against his chest and waited.

And waited.

“I suppose…” Nesta began. “You’re not terrible at Quidditch.”

“That was barely a compliment,” Cassian complained. But the fact she had paid attention to him playing quidditch was...intriguing.

“But a compliment, nonetheless. Truth or dare?” she quickly questioned him.

Cassian pouted. “Truth,” he grunted.

“How many girls have you kissed since being back at school this year?”

Cassian perked up his head. “Why do you care about that?”

“I’m not required to tell you why I’m asking a question.”

Such an infuriating, stubborn girl, this one…

And yet, he knew that was partially why he liked her so much.

“Zero,” he answered emphatically.

Nesta stopped and whipped her head in his direction. “Really?”

Cassian nodded. “Really.”

“I’m shocked. We’ve been back for over a month now, and you haven’t kissed anyone?”

“Nope,” he said as he got up off the floor and started walking towards her.

It had actually been over four months since he’d kissed a girl.

Because there was only one girl he wanted to kiss...

“I figured you would’ve kissed at least one girl a week.”

“Guess you don’t know me as well as you thought,” he stated as he leaned against the bookshelf right beside her.

“Or you’re losing your charm,” she retorted, crossing her arms against herself as she tilted her head up at him.

Dramatically, Cassian put his hand over his heart. “You wound me,” he cried out.

Nesta rolled her eyes.

“But you do admit then that at some point, I was charming?” he eagerly replied.

“No, I misspoke. I think the girls have finally realized you never had charm to begin with.”

Cassian smirked. “You admitted I was charming.”

Nesta groaned. “Stop gloating. I pick ‘dare,’ by the way.”

“I dare you to tell me why you want know how many girls I’ve kissed and how many I’ve brought to this room.”

“That’s not a real dare! That’s a ‘truth’ disguised as a dare,” she yelled at him.

“You didn’t give me a true compliment!” Cassian shouted back.

“Ugh, fine.” Nesta sighed. “I’m just trying to see if…”

“If…?” Cassian encouraged her to go on.

“If I’m just...one of the many,” Nesta finished quietly.

Cassian’s gaze lost its cheeky amusement. “Nesta,” he said as he stood upright and grabbed her hands. “You are not just one of the many. I spent nearly every day of my summer thinking about you. I’ve never brought a girl to the kitchens before. There’s not even a girl I’ve probably talked to as much as you, with all the times we’ve teased each other over the years.”

Nesta stared up at him thoughtfully.

And then Cassian’s stomach chose that precise moment to grumble.

Effectively ruining the moment.

Nesta pulled her hands away from him and looked down at her watch. “I guess it’s already dinnertime…”

“I guess we should head off to eat with the other students in the Great Hall then…” Cassian said, hating himself for saying it, not wanting their time together to end. He’d much rather eat with her alone again.

“I guess we should,” she stated reluctantly.

“But I don’t really want to,” he admitted.

“I don’t...really want to either,” she agreed.

It felt like his stomach did somersaults when he heard her say those words. Beaming, he held out his hand in invitation for her to grab it again. “To the kitchens, then?”

And with a demure smile, she grasped it tightly, permitting him to lead the way. “To the kitchens.”

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

It was when they made their way down the many staircases that an idea came to Cassian for where he and Nesta could eat their dinner. It just required a few more items…

When they had arrived at the kitchens, he had instructed Ollie to prepare two dinner meals to-go and told Nesta to wait for him there while he retrieved a few things from his room.

As he rushed back to the kitchens, he only prayed that she had indeed stayed in the kitchens and wasn’t having seconds thoughts about eating dinner with him.

Finally - finally - he had gotten some sort of sign that maybe - just maybe - she liked him back.

Or could potentially like him.

Or at least liked him enough to spend more time with him.

...If she didn’t back out.

The thought pushed him to move his feet even faster, nearly tripping over himself as he passed all the chattering witches and wizards within the various portraits along the walls.

Out of breath and bearing a blanket and a cloak, he couldn’t help but smile when he saw Nesta still waiting for him, holding a basket that he bet contained the food prepared by the house-elves.

“You have the food?” he asked to confirm.

Nesta gave him a firm nod.

“Let’s go,” he stated, beginning to walk out of the kitchens.

“Is this another secret?” Nesta asked as she followed him.

“You bet,” Cassian exclaimed with a wink back at her.

This time, she didn’t look hesitant and unsure. Instead, she seemed...intrigued and eager.

More progress.

Once they went up the staircase and reached the ground level, Cassian leisurely strolled alongside Nesta and guided her outside through one of the castle’s doors

“We’re going outside?” Nesta wondered. “I don’t have my - ”

“I got you covered,” Cassian cut her off, knowing she was going to say she didn’t have her cloak or jacket. He halted his steps. “Hold this,” he instructed as he handed her the blanket. He then unfurled the cloak within his arms and hooked it around Nesta’s shoulders.

Seeing her wear his cloak made her look even more attractive to him.

Why did he do this to himself…

She seemed grateful for the gesture...until she tilted her head down to look closer at the cloak she was wearing and grimaced.

“What?”

“It has the silly Gryffindor emblem on it,” she noted before looking up at him. “But I suppose I will survive wearing it just for one night…” She finished with a soft smile.

Cassian chuckled as he took the blanket out of her arms. “I sure hope so.”

As they resumed their walk, a gentle, cool breeze blew past them. With his free hand, Cassian grabbed Nesta’s free one and eagerly led her down the slope toward the Great Lake. He beamed when she tightened her grasp on his hand.

The sun was just beginning to set over the lake waters. Once they were near the edge of the lake, Cassian let go of her hand to lay down the blanket. Nesta promptly set down the basket of food and sat down upon the blanket. Cassian followed suit.

Upon opening the basket, they found a delectable meal of roast beef, mashed potatoes, peas, treacle tart for dessert and bottles of pumpkin juice.

As they dug into their meal, they watched the sun descend over the glistening waters.

“It’s beautiful,” Nesta commented softly.

Cassian inclined his head toward hers. “Not as beautiful as you,” he whispered.

Nesta groaned. “You really need some new material.”

“Well everything about you is impossible to properly compliment,” he said in his smooth-talking voice. “You are simply indescribable.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and shook her head back and forth as she swallowed some potatoes. “Good grief, you are so...ridiculous!”

“I think what you meant to say was ‘Cassian, you are so ridiculously handsome, and I can’t imagine spending this beautiful night with anyone else.’”

“‘Can’t imagine spending the beautiful night with anyone else?’”  she exclaimed incredulously. “I certainly can! If I was here with Hugh Grisman from Hufflepuff, he’d be too frightened to talk.”

Despite being thwarted of being given a compliment from Nesta once more, Cassian’s eyes still contained a hint of amusement.

“Or, imagine if I was here with Lawrence Milton from Ravenclaw. He would be going on and on about all the science behind the sun,” Nesta joked as she turned her gaze upward.

“Imagine if you were here with Walton Azley from Gryffindor,” Cassian piped in. “He’d probably try to convince you to go walking through the water with him in search of some obscure magical creature.”

Nesta chuckled, and it was a sound that Cassian wished he could hear over and over again. He started laughing with her.

“If I was with Artemis Braxton, he’d probably charm me with his singing voice and sweep me in arms to -”

“Okay, I think that’s enough,” Cassian sternly interjected and stopped laughing. While Artemis Braxton was a famous singer who would likely never be on a date with Nesta, the thought of someone else wooing her and wrapping his arms around her sent jealousy running through him.

From the way Nesta smirked at him, he could tell she was well aware how that image made him feel.

“You have no right to get in a huff about this,” she said rather calmly. “Especially since you’ve probably been here with - ”

“I haven’t been on a picnic with any other girl,” Cassian was quick to reply. “It’s only been you,” he stated earnestly.

The smug grin vanished from her face. Instead, she looked pensively down at her food as she ate.

Cassian let out a slow breath he didn’t realize he was holding and resumed eating his peas, while Nesta continued to pick at her roast beef. The sun’s last remaining rays faded from the sky, and for a short while, they sat in silence and simply listened to the whistling of the wind.

But then, Cassian heard Nesta suddenly put her utensils down on the now empty plate in her lap. In the darkness, she focused her gaze down at the plate.

“Earlier today, Tomas...he just wanted me for sex,” she whispered. “And then when I rejected him, he said he didn’t know what fuckin’ mudbloods were even good for then.”

Rage flowed through Cassian’s body. He was livid, absolutely livid. His hands, which gripped his fork and his plate, began to tremble from his anger. Tossing the plate to the side, he hurriedly stood up off the ground.

He was going to pummel that piece of…

“Lumos,” he somehow heard Nesta say over the sound of his raging heartbeat. “Where are you going?” she asked angrily as she held out her lit wand so she could see him.

“I’m going to murder Mandray,” he stated seriously.

“No, you aren’t. Sit back down,” she ordered sternly. “Now.”

“You don’t deserve to be treated that way!” Cassian cried out, trying to make her understand. But when Nesta’s glare did not disappear, he begrudgingly sat back down on the blanket.

“You don’t need to be causing anymore trouble,” she said as she grabbed hold of his hand and intertwined their fingers. “If you become a murderer, I don’t want to have to see that handsome face of yours hidden behind the bars of Azkaban.”

Cassian suddenly sat up straight. “Did you just willingly compliment me?”

Nesta nodded. “Perhaps you should document this moment since it’s such a rare occurrence and probably won’t happen ever again.”

If he wasn’t so enraged, Cassian would’ve chuckled at her comment. “Can I at least hit him with the bludger multiple times during our next match against Slytherin?” he wondered aloud.

“Sure.”

He stared at her in the glow of her wand for a moment. “You’re really going to let him get away with this?”

“Of course not. In time, I will retaliate,” she remarked with a delighted sneer.

“Good,” he said with a conniving smile. “Let me know if you need any help.”

“You’ve already helped me enough today,” she said seriously and squeezed his hand. Nesta dropped her lit wand onto the picnic blanket, then began shifting her body so she was right beside him, her thigh grazing his. She rested her head on his shoulder. Cassian released her hand and instantly wrapped it around Nesta’s back to pull her closer. He inhaled her lavender scent and tried to calm his heartbeat that was racing from the excitement of being so close to her.

“Thank you, Cassian,” she said softly as she tilted her head up, her nose brushing briefly against his cheek. “For today,” she added.

“You’re welcome,” he whispered back.

Those eyes...they were like magnets. Always pulling him in and making him never want to remove his gaze.

And those luscious lips...they called to him. He wanted to kiss her so badly…

Slowly inching his face toward hers, Cassian took a deep breath, and he could see Nesta doing the same.

But suddenly, her eyes widened in shock and she shot up to her feet. “Oh no,” she gasped.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, feeling alarmed and standing up with her.

She glanced down at her watch. “I have to go. I completely forgot about my shift tonight to patrol some of the corridors.”

Hurriedly, she took the cloak off her body and handed it off to Cassian.

But she couldn’t leave. Not yet...not when they had come so far.

“Just forget about it. Don’t go,” he pleaded as he tossed his cloak to the ground and attempted to grab hold of Nesta’s wrist.

“I have to leave,” she said firmly, dodging his grasp as she picked up her wand. “Goodnight,” she said before rushing off to the castle door.

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

Despite Nesta’s abrupt departure, Cassian was in a state of elation for a while.

He had finally been on a date with Nesta. And now he couldn’t wait to ask her to go out on a second one.

Their time together was so...simple and quaint. But they were alone, and he had felt so relaxed around her. It was just...different from when he’d spent time with other girls. He didn’t have to feel like he was pretending to be someone else. She was someone who could relate to him and just...understand. Someone he could be vulnerable with.

Plus, he finally got to hear her admit he was handsome.

Then there was the fact they they held hands multiple times and she let him wrap his arm around her...signs that she didn’t truly despise his company. That she felt something for him in return.

For the evening after their date and the next couple of days, it was like he was in a daze. Rhys and Az wondered what was wrong with him. He kept humming to himself as he walked through the corridors of the castle, and he could hardly pay attention to what was going on around him. Every time he turned a corner, he kept hoping that Nesta would be there, happening to walk in his direction.

Alas, he wasn’t so lucky.

At meal times, he’d stretch out his neck to take a peek over at the Slytherin table, hoping he’d find her among the crowd and throw a wink her way. Maybe even offer to whisk her off to the kitchens again.

But he never saw her.

But when their Potions class on Tuesday was approaching, Cassian was ecstatic at the thought of finally seeing Nesta and asking her out again...with hopefully more success this time around. He even arrived to class fifteen minutes earlier with the hope that he could talk to her before class. And he never got to class early.

But she never showed up for class...which seemed so unlike her. He’d never known her to miss class.

So that afternoon, he decided to attempt to seek her out. He went to the library for a while, pretending to study as he periodically looked around for Nesta’s head bent over a book as he so often saw in the past.

But there was no sign of her.

On Wednesday afternoon, he hung around outside the entrance to the Slytherin dormitory for a while, thinking he could at some point catch her coming in or out. He ended up receiving a lot of dirty and suspicious looks from various Slytherins...none of them from the one he was looking for. When he saw one seventh-year Slytherin female leaving the dormitory, he blatantly asked her if Nesta was inside. The female frowned at him - seemingly perturbed that a Gryffindor was talking to her - and reluctantly informed him that she hadn’t seen her since that morning.

At least someone had seen her and he knew she was alive.

On Thursday, he was thrilled once more about going to Potions class, again getting to the class early, because surely Nesta wouldn’t miss two classes…

But once again, she never showed up.

And so Cassian’s euphoria began to dampen.

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

The night Nesta patrolled the corridors after her picnic with Cassian, she found it...terribly difficult to keep her mind off of him.

They had almost kissed and...she could not believe herself. If she didn’t remember her patrol shift, she probably would’ve let him.

The thought flustered her.

This was Cassian she was talking about. Cassian!

A boy who took every chance to annoy her, to tease her, to argue with her, to make sarcastic comments and innuendos to her constantly for the past several years.

It was ridiculous.

Her and him together...preposterous!

It simply didn’t make sense. He cared more about quidditch than studying for his N.E.W.T. exams. He didn’t come from a high social standing family that could help advance her career, which is what she had always pictured for herself.

She may have read tons of romance novels with grand gestures and declarations of love, but...she never pictured such things happening to her. Others had always considered her unkind, snobby, and unlikable. It’s what made it so hard for her to make friends.

So she never thought she’d ever be a part of a swoon-worthy scenario where a boy got her pancakes because she was hungry and took her to a room that he had transformed into one of her favorite places and then take her on a picnic by the lake.

Nesta groaned. She had admitted to herself that Cassian’s actions were swoon-worthy.

What had gotten into her? How could she let her barriers come down? She even started telling him about her issues with her father. She hardly even discussed such things with her sisters. And then he even opened up to her about his parents. She had never known that his father walked out on him…

No. She had to stop thinking about this. She needed to forget it. He had his date with her, he got what he wanted. Now, he would probably never want to hang out with her ever again.

To her both her displeasure and her pleasure, a visual of him and his silly smirking face formed in her mind as soon as she awoke Sunday morning.

And then when she went to brush her hair and put it in a braid crown, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have Cassian’s hands run through her hair.

Ugh. Why would she imagine such things?

Things that are not meant to be and should never happen.

She’d need to keep her distance from him for a little while. Give herself space to allow herself to forget about him.

(Even though part of her was also dying to see him again.)

So for the next few days, she spent most of her time in the Room of Requirement, which she figured no one else would be able to enter if it was in use. If she hung out in the library, she knew there was a chance she could run into him. And she certainly couldn’t eat her meals in the Great Hall, or she would see him. Luckily, Cassian had shown her how to get to the kitchens…

But unfortunately in her determination to not see him, she kept being reminded of him because she was going to the places he had introduced her to.

She still attended her classes, but when Tuesday rolled around, she just knew she couldn’t face him yet. She had to get herself together and build up her walls around her once more before she saw him again. So...for once in her life, she skipped class.

Then skipped for the second time in her life when it was time for Potions class on Thursday.

Because. She. Still. Could. Not. Get. Him. Out. Of. Her. Head.

She wanted to scream.

Every day, she thought of him and wished he was with her.

But then she would get frazzled and wonder why she felt this way.

Was she completely delusional? Was she sick? What was making her feel this way? Why couldn’t she just forget him already?

This was how she envisioned what being under the spell of a love potion would feel like.

A love potion...

Could he have possibly slipped her a love potion at some point?

That had to be it. There was just no way she would feel this way on her own accord.

But now she was fuming...over the fact that she couldn’t stop thinking about him on top of the possibility that he had slipped her a love potion.

Now she knew she needed to see him and get to the bottom of this madness once and for all.

She glanced down at her watch. It was roughly an hour before dinner. He could be anywhere...perhaps in his dormitory or at quidditch practice.

Quidditch practice.

Hurriedly, she grabbed her satchel to search for her notebook that contained schedules of classes, quidditch, clubs, and more for prefect purposes. Opening her notebook, she flipped through the pages to the one she was looking for.

Quidditch Practice - Thursdays

4:00pm - Ravenclaw

5:00pm - Gryffindor

Without even a second thought, she departed the Room of Requirement and headed straight to the quidditch pitch.

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

When she arrived, she indeed found the Gryffindor team huddled together on the ground, finishing up their practice.

With her arms crossed, she walked onto the field and leaned back against the barricade that separated the stands from the field. Her eyes found Cassian’s tall form in the distance immediately. His silky, dark hair was pulled back into a bun and his athletic wear made his muscles look more pronounced.

Nesta scolded herself and reminded herself to remain focused. She needed to confront Cassian and find out if he gave her a love potion. She just needed to wait a little bit, since she certainly didn’t want to make a scene in front of everyone else.

The Gryffindor team huddle broke apart, and when Cassian stepped away, his eyes instantly found hers and his face broke out in the widest grin she’d ever seen on anyone.

No, the smile did not make her weak in the knees.

She refused to let it.

...but failed.

Her whole plan had been to stomp over to him and make her frustrations known. Instead, he was now gleefully jogging toward her with his broom in his hand while the rest of the team dispersed, heading to the changing rooms.

Her body refused to move. Too frozen from that damn smile and the way he was currently looking at her.

“Nes,” he said when he approached. “Where have you been? Did something happen?” His voice was filled with concern, and his free hand neared her as if he was about to grab her hand.

She certainly could not allow that to happen. Lifting up her wand in her right hand, she jabbed its tip into the center of his chest to prevent him from going any further. “Stop it right there,” she angrily ordered. “And don’t ever call me Nes.”

Upon hearing her tone, Cassian frowned and outstretched his empty hand in confusion. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Nesta groaned and she jabbed the tip of her wand into his chest again. “I am not your sweetheart.”

“Ok, put your wand down,” Cassian requested, his voice sounding like he was trying really hard to control his temper. “And Nesta, please tell me what’s wrong? I’ve been worried about you. You missed class, and you never miss class -”

“No,” Nesta interrupted him, disregarding his request to put her wand down and instead tapping his chest with it. “No, you don’t get to say these things and act like you know me so well!”

“But I do know you,” Cassian said with traces of frustration and impatience. “At least a little! And I want to get to know you better!”

“Well, giving someone a love potion is a lousy way of showing that!” Nesta shouted back, and a look of complete and utter bewilderment covered Cassian’s face.

“What? You think I gave you a love potion?!” Cassian exclaimed. “I’ve done no such thing.”

“Don’t lie to me! Why else would I be feeling this way and constantly thinking about -” Nesta began to say, but abruptly stopped herself from saying anything more.

“Thinking about what? Me?” he questioned her, infuriated. “Is it so ridiculous to think you might actually like me that you assumed I must have used a love potion on you?”

Nesta slowly pulled her wand away from him and brought it down to her side as she stared at the ground, avoiding his gaze.

Cassian looked down at her peevishly. “I thought you knew me enough to know I would never do such a thing. I want to date you and be with you, but only if you truly want to be with me too. I loved spending time with you on Saturday, and it seemed like you enjoyed it too. But maybe you’re only accusing me of using a potion because you’re ashamed at the thought of liking me?”

Nesta kept staring at the ground beneath her feet, taking slow and steady breaths as she listened to Cassian’s hurt voice.

She gave him no reply.

“No denial, then?” he asked in a pained voice. “Well, I suppose I should at least be flattered that you think I’m smart enough to concoct a love potion that lasts for several days, when most only seem to last for less than twenty-four hours with one dose. Goodnight, Nesta,” he said gruffly before turning around and hurriedly marching off to the quidditch changing rooms.

Nesta lifted her head and watched him walk away.

This all wasn’t some game to him. She should’ve known that just based on all that he did for her on Saturday.

The anguish in his voice just now further proved it.

And hearing that anguish made her feel like she was crumbling on the inside.

Of course he didn’t use a stupid love potion. She had just been searching for any excuse at all to explain these feelings she had for him. Feelings of wanting to be with him and spend time with him and...kiss him.

She wasn’t ashamed to have these feelings. Sure, it was a shock to have them for him. But she was mostly...afraid.

Afraid of being hurt and betrayed because she had these feelings.

Why did she have to be so destructive?

When she saw Cassian enter the changing rooms, Nesta felt compelled to follow after him. She couldn’t leave things like that.

It was time for her to be honest both with him and herself. No more coming up with excuses.

With her robes flowing around her, she ran across the pitch to the changing rooms.

As she rushed toward them, many of the other Gryffindor players were walking out and gave her quizzical looks. But she had no time to care...not that she ever would have cared anyway.

When she burst into the room, out of breath, she was relieved to find Cassian was the only one in there. He stood before a locker, angrily removing his leg and arm guards.

“Cassian,” Nesta called out softly, causing Cassian to briefly glance up at her.

“Coming to get in one more insult because claiming I used a love potion wasn’t enough?” he questioned her bitterly.

“No,” she emphatically replied. “I… What’s wrong with your hand?” she suddenly asked when she noticed his knuckles were completely swelled up.

Cassian just shrugged. “Just...hit a locker,” he muttered before aggressively removing the glove off of his other hand.

Did he...punch a locker out of anger over her stupid words?

“Sit down and let me see it,” Nesta demanded as she gently pushed Cassian down on the bench in front of the locker and quickly grabbed hold of his wrist before he could protest. She sat next to him and lifted his hand to inspect his knuckles, then took out her wand and directed it at the injury.

“Glaciotious,” Nesta said and an icy coolness from her wand settled over the swollen area. “Are there bandages somewhere in here?”

Cassian shook his head. Nesta then took a quick glance around the room before glancing down at her own clothes. Letting go of Cassian’s hand, she untied the tie from around her neck and threw it on the bench beside her. “Linteumos,” Nesta stated as she directed her wand at it.

Before their eyes, her green and silver tie had transfigured into a long green and silver bandage. Picking it up, she brought it toward Cassian and gestured for him to stick out his hand once more.

He reluctantly did so, and Nesta placed her wand down on the bench and went about carefully wrapping the bandage around his knuckles.

“Nesta, what are you doing?” Cassian asked exasperatedly.

“Taking care of you,” she replied.

“Why?”

“Because I care about you,” she answered ardently as her fingertips grazed his skin, the touch sending goosebumps up her arm. “And that scares me,” she added in a whisper.

His eyebrows rose up in arches at her words. “Why does that scare you?”

She tied a knot in the bandage and gently set his arm back at his side. “Because I could get hurt.”

“What do you mean?” he asked as he stared at her intently.

“To care for someone and let them in and grow to love them...there’s the chance that one day they’ll just leave you or betray you or forget about you altogether.”

Just like my father, she nearly added.

But from the way Cassian looked at her sympathetically, she sensed that he knew what she almost said. He swung one of his legs over onto the other side of the bench so he could fully face her. Taking one of her hands within his uninjured one, he rubbed circles with his thumb into the back of it.

“And I know I’m not easy to...care about either. I have a tendency to push people away...so it’s just been easier to...isolate myself,” she added.

“Nesta, I can’t promise right now that we’ll be together forever, and neither can you, but I know that what I feel for you is different from what I’ve felt for any other girl,” Cassian explained fervently. “And I don’t want to waste any time in our final year here if we want to give this a shot. You just need to decide if you’re willing to take the risk.”

Nesta closed her eyes as he spoke, debating and thinking over what she should do.

Mere minutes ago, she nearly became distraught over seeing Cassian walk away from her. It wasn’t something she wanted to experience again. If they were together, there was the risk they would breakup and he would leave her. But if she decided right now not to go out with him again, he’d probably leave her alone completely...

The past few days since their unofficial date, she had missed him. Despite every effort to try to forget about him, she missed him too much. Perhaps, that was the real reason she felt the desire to go storming out onto the quidditch pitch today. She needed to see him.

But then she had cut him down with her insinuation of him using a love potion on her. It was how she shielded herself. Strike others down before they could hurt her.

However, this time, her strike against someone else also hurt her. She was already in too deep, so she might as well...try this out.

But she did so, she needed to apologize.

She opened her eyes and stared back at him. “I’m sorry I accused you of giving me a love potion.”

An amused smile took over Cassian’s face. “I will only accept your apology if you tell me what you meant when you said you were feeling a certain way and constantly thinking about something?”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Isn’t it obvious how I feel at this point?”

“I want to hear you say it. You’ve already heard me tell you a few times how I feel about you. It’s time to return the favor.”

“Fine,” she said dramatically and squeezed his hand. “Despite you being a persistent and arrogant and demanding dolt, I like you and I like spending time with you.”

Cassian gloated and squeezed her hand in return. “And what have you been constantly thinking about?”

Nesta sighed again. “You and how much I want to kiss that stupid grin off of your face.”

Cassian’s eyes grew big and his mouth dropped open.

Good. Just the reaction she was looking for. She smugly smiled at him as she leaned closer to him.

“So does this mean you’ll take the risk and go out with me?” Cassian questioned her, his breath tickling her nose.

Nesta scrunched up her nose upon smelling a foul stench. He still hadn’t cleaned up after practice. “That depends if you plan on showering anytime soon.”

Cassian sighed as she leaned away from him. “I’ll go shower right now. Meet me outside the Great Hall in twenty minutes?”

Nesta nodded in agreement.

“Great,” he said dreamily as he squeezed her hand one more time before releasing it. “I expect a real answer to my question then.”

“Wait,” she said as she grabbed his injured hand. “Plasticus,” she stated when she pointed her wand at his bandage, charming it to turn into plastic. “For your shower,” she explained.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Nesta simply gave him a smile before getting up and heading out of the changing rooms, while he made his way to the shower stall.

On her way to the castle, an idea popped into Nesta’s mind.

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

Following his shower in the quidditch changing rooms, Cassian raced to the Great Hall, eager to hear Nesta finally say that she would go out with him.

...and possibly finally kiss her.

Having heard her say she had been thinking about kissing the grin off of his face had been such a surprise. He never thought he’d ever hear her admit that. Especially when he would have just been satisfied with her saying that she had been constantly thinking of him.

Finally, they seemed to be on the same wavelength.

When the Great Hall entrance was finally in sight, he didn’t see Nesta anywhere.

Was she avoiding him again? Did she freak out again? He had just seen her a mere twenty minutes ago. How could her feelings change so quickly?

Suddenly, a door he passed on his left opened and a hand reached out, grabbing hold of his arm and yanking him into the room…

Which turned out to be a tiny dimly-lit space filled with various broomsticks, mops and buckets.

And none other than Nesta Archeron.

Nesta closed the door behind them and gently pushed him so his back was up against the wall. She wrapped her hands around his neck, bringing his face down to hers to capture his lips in a fervent kiss. Once over the shock of this unexpected event, Cassian placed his hands on her waist and pulled her closer to him, needing to be as close to her as he possibly could.

The taste of her was better than he had envisioned and he couldn’t get enough. When she would hesitantly pull away the slightest bit, he dove right back into the kiss, gently tugging at her lips with his teeth to pull her back in.

At some point, he did remember however that he’d been expecting her to answer his question. Reluctantly, he pulled his lips away from hers, and the two of them stood with their foreheads resting against each other’s. Her heavy breathing matched his own.

“I knew you always wanted to snog me in a broom closet,” he remarked cheekily.

“I needed to see what all the fuss was about,” she replied as she moved her hands up into his unbound hair and ran her fingers through it over and over again. “But if another prefect catches me, you’re dead,” she added rather seriously.

“I’m dead? You’re the one who dragged me in here!”

“But you’re the one who keeps kissing me.”

“Because you started it,” he noted before giving her a quick peck on the lips. “And you’re too intoxicating.”

Her eyes glimmered like the stars as she blushed.

“So Nesta Archeron, will you go out with me?” he asked.

She took a deep breath. “Yes,” she breathed.

Cassian beamed as he planted her with a passionate kiss.

“Are you ready to go to the Great Hall?” he asked when he pulled away.

“Not yet,” she said before leaning forward to kiss him again.  

“Maybe we can eat in the kitchens later instead,” he mumbled against her lips.

“I like that plan,” she whispered before wrapping her arms tighter around his neck and kissing him ravenously.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! I hope you liked it! I apologize for any errors...I was sick when I edited this! Cassian just seems like he would totally be like a Hogwarts-era Sirius Black to me XD anyone else agree? :) Right now, this is just a oneshot. But do I have ideas for other Nessian dates/issues while at Hogwarts? Yes. Will I ever write them? I have no idea. I kinda want take a break, kinda want to go back to writing my post-ACOFAS fic, haha. So we'll see!

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #nesta #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #a court of thorns and roses #harry potter #hogwarts #hogwarts au #nessian au #nessian at hogwarts!

[shireness-says]

Playing the Part Epilogue: Superboy and the Invisible Girl (Reprise)

Summary: As a stage manager who’s clawed her way up from the bottom, Emma Swan can handle just about anything thrown her way. But does that include handsome lead actor Killian Jones? A CS Broadway AU.  Rated T. Also on AO3.  Prologue  Ch. 1  Ch. 2  Ch. 3Ch. 4  Ch. 5  Ch. 6  Ch. 7  Ch. 8  Ch. 9  Ch. 10  Ch. 11  Ch. 12 Ch. 13  Ch. 14  Ch. 15  Ch. 16  Ch. 17  Ch. 18

A/N: We made it, guys! Thanks for sticking with me through the slowest slow burn ever. I like to think it paid off.

Title taken from “Next to Normal”. Full disclosure, there is not a reprise of “Superboy and the Invisible Girl” in the musical. However, a reprise oftentimes takes the original song and builds upon it, adding extra verses to show development in plot. It seemed appropriate for this chapter, which has echoes of Chapter 13 (Also called Superboy and the Invisible Girl).

One last round of thanks to @snidgetsafan for her beta services, and an extra thank you to everyone who’s reblogged, liked, commented, or messaged me about this!

Tags: @kmomof4, @winterbaby89, @thejollyroger-writer, @mythologicalmango, @onceuponaprincessworld, @idristardis, @teamhook, @courtorderedcake, @aerica13, @revanmeetra87, @snowbellewells, @searchingwardrobes, @mystrangedarkson

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy this sappy conclusion!

Four years later

“Welcome back to Sign Off, everybody!”

Emma knows that Killian will do his ear scratch when he finds her watching his segment, but she wouldn’t miss this for the world. It’s like reliving a little bit of their history. Plus, it’s not every day that your spouse is on national television; skipping this would earn her “Bad Wife” points, or something.

He’s still bashful as he walks out, still kind of ducks his head when he waves and acts like he’s embarrassed to be there. You’d think after several years of magazine interviews and newspaper profiles and talk show appearances he’d lose some of that shyness and uncertainty, or at least get used to it, but some things never change. It’s a damn good thing she finds it cute.

Archie is as charming as ever, shaking Killian’s hand with an enthusiasm usually reserved for inside jokes. That’s just who the host is, though. “So, it’s been a while since we saw you last. I hear a few things have happened.”

“Oh, just a few.”

Hopper starts pulling out photos. “Pride and Prejudice was a hit.”

“Yes, a great group effort. They just closed a few months ago, congrats to everyone involved.”

The host shows a picture from his Tony speech. “You won a Tony for playing Mr. Darcy.”

“So they tell me. My brother kidnapped the statue.”

(That’s only halfway true. Yes, Liam had taken the statue for a while, setting up a popular Instagram account to display all the places he took the golden figure. One of those places had been Henry’s 6th grade English class, turning her son into a middle school celebrity for a couple of months. Though bringing Liam and Killian along with the award probably had something to do with that, too.)

Emma can just spot the Tony now from where she sits, bookending a cluster of novels on the top shelf of the bookshelf in her and Killian’s apartment. It had been a little bittersweet, leaving her old apartment where she and Henry had both grown and flourished, but she and Killian had both agreed that they would need more space. It’s worth it, anyways, to wake up next to Killian every day in a place that’s theirs. Emma misses living next door to Elsa some days, but now that Henry’s fifteen her supervision isn’t quite so needed anymore anyways. It would have come to an end regardless when Elsa had moved in with Liam in his fancy apartment. Emma instead contents herself with the knowledge that Elsa’s job at the Met - her dream job, really - means she and Liam will be based in New York for the foreseeable future, even if the latter occasionally does have to leave for filming in other locations. Killian likes to joke about his brother and Elsa “living in sin”, like they hadn’t done the same thing, but it does mean they still get to see Liam and Elsa fairly often.

Her real Killian walks back into the living room at that point. “Oh Christ, not this drivel. Emma, I’m embarrassed enough as it is, let’s find something else to watch.” He may gripe and groan, but he still collapses onto the couch beside her, letting out an appreciative and exhausted sigh.

“Oh, I’m watching this, babe,” she replies, smiling over at Killian before burrowing her head into his side. She knows by this point that he’s all bark; he’s a pushover, really, especially where his family is concerned.

She must have missed the introduction of his latest movie project – an interesting project portraying Pan as the villain of Neverland with Killian playing Captain Hook as a misunderstood rogue – because there’s publicity stills up on the screen when she redirects her attention back that way.

“My stepson’s a little upset, really, because he had the idea first,” the Killian on the screen explains. “Which, trust me, was not the reaction I was hoping for.”

“Hey, that was almost funny,” Emma comments, nudging him in the side as the audience laughs.

“It’s embarrassing, is what it is,” Killian grouses. It must be that thing where actors don’t like seeing their own work - Emma’s read about that before. It’s not going to stop her from affectionately picking at him, though, and it’s not going to keep her from watching the whole thing.

“And on a personal note, does everyone remember this moment from last time?” Archie asks, cutting to the clip of Killian talking about a certain prickly and dedicated stage manager. When the camera cuts back, she knows what’s coming, and smiles when she feels Killian press a kiss to her head as the host pulls out a copy of their wedding photo. “Well good news to all those shipping that on the internet, because you two tied the knot!” The audience cheers, and as Emma watches televised Killian grin widely, she thinks that’s the most comfortable she’s ever seen him in an interview. “Now, how long have you two been married now?”

“Coming up on two years, three months from now.”

He’d proposed one evening when Emma had least expected it. They’d talked about marriage before - considering that they were living together and in a committed relationship, having that conversation seemed like the responsible thing to do - but it had been a lovely surprise all the same. Killian had been waiting with the ring when she got home from work on a Wednesday, on bended knee and everything in their little foyer with Henry filming just around the corner. Killian had explained later, after the yes and the ring and an awful lot of kissing, that it had seemed important to make his proposal a family affair and include Henry. He loves her son, just as much as he loves her (albeit in a different way); Emma knows that, but it still means a lot that he’d included her son in their major life moment in that way. Henry had been a part of their love story, after all.

(Emma suspects that there may have been a conversation between Killian and Henry before the proposal as well where Killian had asked her son for her hand, but neither of them has ever fessed up to it, and she’s okay with leaving that as a man-to-man moment if they prefer it.)

The wedding had been a low-key affair, much to Mary Margaret’s dismay - just a little courthouse ceremony. Emma had never been the big white wedding type, though, had never had those dreams as a child. Now that she’s faced with the opportunity for all that, she finds that she doesn’t really want or need it. At the end of the day, they just want to be married; they love each other, almost to distraction, and waiting any longer than absolutely necessary feels like too great a burden.

Still, they’d done it up as much as the quick circumstances allowed. Emma had bought a clearance wedding dress that swished around her calves, and Killian had taken Henry to get a nice suit - his first, the sleeves and legs given extra length to be let out as the growth spurt from hell inevitably continued so they could get more than one use out of the damn thing. They had even arranged for a bouquet and boutonnières, even if Emma doesn’t know anything about flowers. As soon as Liam had arrived back in the city from filming in Atlanta, they had gathered all their friends and family on a dark Monday and made it official.

Henry stood as Best Man. Mary Margaret cried. Ruby wolf-whistled. And Emma had never been happier as Killian dipped her into a dramatic kiss.

“Are you happy, my love?” he’d whispered into her ear later at Granny’s. The older woman had gladly donated her diner for the reception, closing for the occasion so they could all eat cake and dance to jukebox hits.

“What do you think?” she’d quipped right back, before laughing and drawing him down into a kiss. It feels like they’ve come full circle; it feels like home.

(She may still be Emma Swan professionally, but there’s a certain thrill to hearing Mrs. Jones.)

“And one more thing…” Archie continues on the TV, drawing Emma’s attention back to the screen. If possible, televised Killian grins even wider: if what she thinks is about to happen is actually about to happen, she doesn’t blame him in the least. “… You two had a little girl.” The photo on the screen is a sweet one of her little fingers curled around Killian’s thumb. Emma knows it well; it hangs in the nursery, right next to the rocker where Emma’s lately been spending what feels like half her nights.

“We did. She just turned five months old last week.”

“And her name? If you guys are ok to announce it.”

“Hazel Elizabeth Jones.” The audience aws, which the tiny baby propped in her Papa’s arms here in their living room seems to find objectionable as she starts squirming and snuffling. “Emma and I thought it would be appropriate to pay homage to the show where we met.”

They’d had it in mind from the start, ever since they’d found out they were having a girl. There’d been a good bit of debate and waffling back and forth about the first name, but they’d always agreed on Elizabeth for the middle. Hazel hadn’t actually been on the shortlist, just something that’d they’d discussed and put aside, but then she’d arrived - six pounds four ounces, dark hair, loud cry, perfect, and it had just… fit. If there’s one thing Emma’s learned since Killian, it’s not to question a good thing.

Parenting now, 15 years after her first child, is both easier and harder. There’s an exhaustion that comes with age that’s only compounded by caring for an infant. It helps though, more than she can ever describe, to have a partner in this, not to mention a secure housing and financial situation. Killian’s a great dad - to both her children, really - and it’s a particular joy to watch him with their baby.

“You’re okay, lass, you’re okay,” he murmurs now, bouncing their daughter against his chest to attempt to calm her down. It works, thank God; Henry’s been great about all the changes in their lives and is lucky enough to sleep through almost everything, but Emma still doesn’t like taking that chance on a school night.

“Little drama queen,” Emma murmurs affectionately, tweaking a little sock-clad foot. She’d forgotten just how tiny everything about babies is somewhere in the decade and a half between Henry and Hazel, but has loved rediscovering it.

“Maybe she’ll be an actor like Papa one day,” Killian suggests, quirking a teasing eyebrow in Emma’s direction.

She snorts. “Not if Mom has any say in it.”

“What, you don’t think we need more actors in this family?” His tone conveys mock-insult, but Emma can see that twinkle in his eye that means he’s joking.

“Nah, she’s gonna be a techie. I can feel it.”

Emma can faintly hear Archie offerings his congratulations and asking about Killian’s upcoming turn as Harold Hill in a televised performance of The Music Man, but she’s not really paying attention anymore, too preoccupied with this moment with her little family. Maybe that was Killian’s devious plan all along - distract her from his talk show appearance with their very cute baby. She can’t really complain about that.

“Ah, well, I suppose I can’t argue that,” he concedes. “Not when her mother’s so brilliant at it.”

Even after all this time, a compliment from Killian can still make her blush. He knows it, too, which only makes him do it more. She loves that about him, though. Suddenly, it seems very important that she express that very fact.

“I love you, Killian.” She’s said it hundreds, thousands of times before, but it still strikes her with wonder every time, just how much she loves the man sitting next to her.

“I love you too, my Swan,” he replies, placing a careful kiss on her lips while trying not to jostle the baby.

Though Emma knew accepting that stage managing job almost five years ago now would change her life, she never imagined in a million years that she’d end up here, with a husband and baby and her son sleeping just down the hall in a life better than she ever could have fathomed.

She wouldn’t change a thing.

#cs ff #captain swan #my writing #Playing the Part #Superboy and the Invisible Girl (Reprise) #Broadway AU #stage manager!Emma #actor!Killian #and some major life developments #its bittersweet to see this one end #but i'm really proud of how its turned out

[suddenlyallatonce]

Question the Story | Anael & Michael

Thread history with theloyalangel -- moving the thread over here from the archive!  Next response will be reblogged from your blog to this one :)

Ana tapped her fingers against her thigh, and her knee shook a bit.  It wasn’t normal for her to fidget – she wasn’t even sure she had ever beennervous before – but she was pretty positive that nothing had ever been this important.  There was nothing a sixteen-year-old girl could experience that would be as important to her as Castiel.  And what she could do to find him.

That made waiting in an elevator just about the most nerve-wracking thing she’d done.  It was the moment she had to slip away from her parents’ notice, while they thought she was just going down to the vending machines on the second flour.  The sleek metal box stopped on the fourth level instead, and Ana let go of a breath she didn’t know she was holding as she stepped onto the tiles.  It felt so much better to move.

She knew from the directories downstairs that her eldest brother’s office was room number 424.  But she had no idea how to get to that room.  Panic bubbled in her stomach and started rising like heat as her eyes looked for signs, followed arrows, jumped from numbered door to numbered door – until she almost blew right past it.

And then she just froze.  It frustrated her, her own anxiety; but there was this hovering sense that everything hinged on a conversation she didn’t entirely know how to have.  Michael was the eldest.  He cared about Castiel – not as much as she did, but no one cared as much as she did about the best friend her parents had taken from her three years ago.  But if she was ever going to find him, she needed help.  And she didn’t know if Michael would help – but there was no one else – she made herself stop the internal debate she’d already concluded at least twice this morning.  Anael swallowed all of the pointless fear that had swelled in her throat, stepped forward, and gave her wrist one more moment of hesitation before she tapped a few knocks on the polished wooden door, right underneath his name plaque.

Floor 4,room 424—

It wasn’t thebest floor, nor was it the best office, but Michael knew he didn’t deserve tobe handed anything based on the simple fact that he was related to theirFather. First son and heir to the family legacy might hold true to others inthe business world but not for their family. Michael had yet to prove himself,yet to prove he could handle running ‘Heaven’ as their flock of followers hadtaken to calling it. He would though, Michael was nothing if not determined.

Lookingaway from his computer he frowned at the door and the quick knocking that hadcome from it. Gray eyes flicked back to his screen as he quickly navigated tothe calendar he kept opened. Today was clear, dedicated to writing his firstpublic presentation at Father’s side. It was important and not something hewould have allowed himself to schedule a meeting around which meant the visitorwas random, unplanned, and for just that moment unwelcome.

As quicklyas the thought came to him Michael chastised himself for it. It wasn’t verykind of him to admonish a guest, in fact it was something God would be highly disappointedin him for doing. Ridding himself of his terrible thought he got to his feetand cross the office, opening the door.

Shocksettled through him before happiness flooded in behind it.

                 “Ana, Iwasn’t expecting a visit from you.”

His voicewas light, happy to see his sister here. It was rare he had time to visit withthe younger of his siblings these days and he missed them terrible. Theholidays often could not come soon enough for him, the desire to see hissiblings usually such a strong one.

                “Come in,please.”

Steppingback he gestured her inside.

Ana was so preoccupied with her mission that she didn’t expect her own sincere, immediate smile when her brother answered the door.  She saw him so seldomly that it was easy to forget how fond she was of him.  “Hello, Michael,” she greeted as she stepped into his unfamiliar office.

It was smaller than she’d expected.  She knew that the fourth floor wasn’t where the higher executives’ offices were, but she had still expected to see much more… something in his work space.  It was effectively the chambers of a crown prince, but if one wasn’t familiar with Michael’s direct relation to the Head of the Church, it wouldn’t be evident in his office.  Still, it was sort of a relief.  The topic at hand was intimidating enough to approach without being surrounded by royal adornments, reminders that she was asking her father’s pride and joyto question him.

She had rehearsed her first few lines, but they vanished from memory as soon as she turned to face Michael again.  She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.  So she closed it, cleared her throat, and forcedherself to say something.  “I came to ask… if you’ve heard from Castiel at all?”

Ana really hoped she knew the answer to her own question.  If Cas would have written to anyone, it would have been her.  In fact, if he hadwritten to Michael and not her, she wasn’t prepared for how that would hurt.  But at least if Michael immediately called their parents, she would be able to pass this off as a casual conversation with her brother abouther brother.  Just missing her brothers.  Not at all determined to beg one to help her find the other.

Walkingback into the office behind Ana Michael turned and headed around his desk,moving to take a seat at it. There was a nervous feeling to the air surroundingAna, something that had Michael concerned about the topic she was looking tobring up. A visit from her was off enough as it was, the feeling he was gettingfrom her only added to it.

Sittingback in his chair he narrowed his eyes in though, lips pursing as he thoughtabout the last time he had heard from Castiel. They hadn’t been in contact veryoften before the younger Milton air has moved on to college so Michael hadn’texpected to hear from him while he was there, he had assumed Ana would however.

                   “I don’t recall the last time Ispoke with him, perhaps before he                    left for school even. You know we’re not veryclose.”

His facesmoothed back out as he talked, his words laced with something akin to sadness.It was a shame that he wasn’t closed with his brother, even with Ana. Theirlife didn’t leave room for it however, at least his didn’t.

                   “Why do you ask though? Iseverything alright with him?”

There was asudden moment of worry, concern that perhaps Castiel had gotten himself in tosome kind of trouble that he had sent Ana to inquire about on his behalf. Amillion scenarios ran through his mind, possibly fixes to each of them shortlyfollowing in their wake.

Ana knew that the polite thing to do would be to sit down in one of the chairs on the other side of Michael’s desk, but she couldn’t manage to.  She was too tense.  She put her hands on the back of one of them, but rather than pull it back to sit in it, she just tapped her fingers on the plainly patterned upholstery.  She watched Michael’s face carefully, scrutinizing it for whatever impressions he might get of her opening question.

Unfortunately, she didn’t actually know Michael well enough to be able to tell how his facial expressions translated into emotions.  She thought she saw a flicker of sadness when he mentioned that he didn’t know Cas that well, but she wasn’t even sure of that much.  Michael was so much older than either her or her closest brother that they had rarely seen him growing up, and even less after he’d gone to college to live up to their parents’ expectations.

This was a bad idea.  Michael didn’t know Cas like she did.  He would think, like everyone else, that Cas had been sent off to boarding school (and now on to college), to be conditioned into the perfect soldier for the company’s army, and everything was fine.  They wouldn’t know that he had been considering disobedience.  That he had questions, he had desires, he had feelings that betrayed their way of life.  Michael wouldn’t know that Castiel had had a crisis of faith, right before their parents “shipped him off.”

But she had to try.  Getting Michael’s help was the only way to find the truth.  To even scratch the surface.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted.  “He hasn’t contacted me in… years.  Since he was sent to St. Novak’s.  I wrote him, but he never wrote back.”  Her teeth worried at her bottom lip.  “I want to try to see him, but I don’t know where he went to college.  Do you?  Could you find out?”

#v: question everything #p: question the story #theloyalangel #❖ |¦ sculpted in Heaven to bloom on Earth ¦| ~ Anael