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kindofinprogress · 3 years

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What. A. Git.

Harry Potter fell in love at 18.

At least, that’s how old he was when he realized he was in love. He’d felt quite at home in this state so surely it must have happened when he wasn’t looking. Perhaps it happened when he was 16 and playing quidditch with her in the back garden of her home or later that year when an untamed amount of anger filled him at the sight of another boy near her in all the ways he’d wish he could be. Maybe it happened after their historic first kiss in front of 50 of their peers or the subsequent, equally as historic (although much more private), “walk” after said kiss. Maybe it was later, when he was 17, sometime in the nine grueling months he had to spend away from her- where all he could do was try and not think about how much he missed her. Distance makes the heart grow fonder and all that, right? Or, it could have happened the second, the very mind-clouding moment, that he got to hold her in his arms again after those nine months and the battle that ended the war in which he lost so much. But not her. She managed to come out on the other side and he couldn’t thank enough deities about it if he tried.

Whenever it was- he was sure he was fully, irrevocably, assuredly, enduringly, and all of the other painfully cliche words one could come up with, in love exactly one month after she left on a train for her last year of schooling.

Harry Potter was pitiful. That’s the word that Ron used, anyway. Well, if not being able to stand missing Ginny, his Ginny after the longest, grueling month of his life then that was fine. Alright, perhaps it was possible he’d had worse months so maybe he could tone down the dramatics. But, Harry rationalized, last year he had countless “worst” months- one right after the other in what at the time seemed like an endless string. And even back then he would have given up the world to be able to drop everything and get one good look at her. And he could do that now- quite easily and with a lot less at stake.

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It was after dinner at the Burrow where Harry sat in a room eating a delicious plate made by a stern and loving woman who’s laugh and annoyed tuts reminded him of his Ginny, sat next to a man with his Ginny’s wonderful curiosity, and surrounded by her brothers who had a mischievous edge to their jokes which only his Ginny could rival that he decided he would do just that. Drop everything and go see her- no matter how pathetic that made him in the eyes of his best mate.

Dinner was a more quiet affair these days. Spirits had livened up just enough at the end of September to where everyone could joke and ask each other about their days with genuine interest because they didn’t always end up back at sorrow-filled points but not enough that not at least one persons’ eyes welled up with tears by the end of the night. Or that someone had to excuse themselves when they almost mentioned Fred. But tonight, it wasn’t the collective longing for Fred to fill his seat at the dinner table or the mention of Teddy and the painful reminder that a 60-year-old woman and an 18-year-old man were now his main caretakers rather than his young and kind parents that created a knot in Harry’s throat. It was the mention of Ginny and the oh-how-busy-she-must-be fussing over her too-short letters home and her oh-so-important exams at the end of the year. After she came up Harry was in no mood to answer questions about his training, or if he and Ron would want the leftovers from tonights’ dinner, or to stay ‘round for after dinner drinks with the boys. Harry did stay, not from a lack of trying to leave though. Ron practically plucked him out of the floo and forced an ale into his palm. “Lighten up, we’ll see them at the end of October in Hogsmeade. No need to let a few miles soil our night.”

So, fine. Harry stayed and sulked over exactly one drink. He bid the clan of red-headed brothers goodnight while Ron went to the loo. Harry got home, put on his pajamas, washed his face and wrote a quick note to Ginny to meet him in the Shrieking Shack on the following night- October first. It was a Thursday and Harry figured it was too early in the year for any professors to be dishing out detentions to a castle full of grieving students and it wasn’t a special feast that night so the only thing that might get in his way would be Hermione’s time table.

The next morning, after about 5 more “you’re absolutely pitiful”’s from Ron, and a detailed description of exactly what he was to tell their training Auror his excuse for skiving off in the middle of a work week Harry set off for Hogwarts.

He arrived in town with enough time to stop by the Hog’s Head and grab dinner at the dusty bar and a quick conversation with the aloof Aberforth. The night’s air was well chilly as he made his way to the old, creaking shack and it wasn’t much better from inside. Harry made quick work to try and warm the place up with some charms but only managed to make it bearably stuffy before the door from the secret passage swung wide open and a red blur launched into his chest. Harry took in her flowery scent and dug his fingers into her hips bringing her as close as possible to him. Ginny looked up and met his eyes and Harry couldn’t help but bring his mouth to hers. The kiss was simple and all-consuming. It made his mind swirl. When he finally broke it and got a good look at her face he couldn’t help the soppy grin that overtook his features. It was so easy to let the world melt away and feel so happy with his Ginny around.

“Hey, you. You didn't just come all the way here to stare at me all night did you? We have pictures for that sort of thing you know.”

“Sorry.” He blurted. “No, that’s not what I came for. But it is quite fun. Be quiet and give me about another minute, would you?”

“Harry!” She giggled and swat at his arm. She leaned in and gave him a quick peck before untangling herself from him. “Why did you come? Is everything alright?” Her expression softened with concern in a way that made her look so absolutely endearing Harry swept her up and rightfully snogged her. When they broke apart, panting and out of breath minutes later he apologized again. “Sorry- couldn’t help it.”

He gave her a sheepish smile suddenly feeling just as pathetic as Ron had painted him to be. “I just. Er- I missed you. Is all. And I- I just wanted to see you. Is that okay? I’m sorry, you didn’t have anything important going on did you? Practice? I don’t even bloody know when you practice and I just made you drop everything because I’m a pathetic sop. I’m sor-”

Ginny shut him up with one of those small pecks that took his breath and all coherent thoughts away. “You silly man. Of course it’s alright, Harry. It’s more than alright. I’ve missed you too. I do have to admit you made me nervous with that note. It didn’t say anything!”

“Oh, bugger. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright, it freaked Hermione out enough to let me off the hook from studying with her tonight. We’ve been going over the same bloody chapter all week, Harry! I know you warned me but Godric, Hermione is boring me to tears and I think she’s enjoying it!”

Harry laughed and they exchanged another small moment of pure bliss. She had a way of doing that, Harry noticed. Filling a moment with everything. Filling him to the brim with happiness in the most minute ways. In that moment Harry wondered if that’s what his father felt for his mother. Later, Harry would reason with himself that James must have- for if anything was worth falling in love and marrying a girl straight out of school in the middle of a war that that feeling -this feeling- must have been in.

“Please, do carry on about your wild school year full of studying and classes.”

“Oh, only if you promise to drone on about your stuffy old coworkers and shoes that pinch your toes.”

“Hey, I’m serious! I want to know everything. I know you don’t put it all in your letters. I can tell your hand gets cramped when your writing gets all crooked and starts leaning on its side- which happens in every letter so I know you haven’t included everything you’ve wanted to.”

So Ginny spent the next half hour telling Harry about everything she felt was too little to write in her letters. Truthfully, she thought they were too little to be mentioning now when they had such a short time together but he truly seemed to be enjoying the conversation so she kept on only so he would keep looking at her like that. Like she was enchanting and everything. Ginny got the sudden courage to do something she’d been terrified of for weeks. “I had my career meeting with McGonagall my first week.” Harry searched deep in his brain for something to say to that- try as he might he couldn’t think of any specifics to ask- surely she’d mentioned this to him before. It was one of the most important meetings 5th, 6th, and 7th years had yearly and Ginny must’ve- “I didn’t mention it before because what we talked about just kind of happened. I just blurted it out without meaning to and she encouraged me, Harry. Me! She really thinks I’m capable of it.” Ginny let anticipation hang in the air for a second- reveling in the way she had Harry’s undivided attention. “She’s getting scouts from all over to come watch me play! I’m going to play quidditch professionally, Harry! Well, maybe. I have to be impressive enough for them to actually offer anything but-”

“You’re going to be amazing, Gin. Those scouts won’t know what hit them.”

“Oh, Harry. I knew I was right to wait to tell you before anyone else.”

Harry’s heart swelled with pride. He felt like he’d won a prize at that. It was in that moment that Harry realized he needed this for the rest of his life. To be the first one she shared good news with, to never miss out on being her biggest supporter, to get to watch her smile like this. To be around for all things Ginny Weasley.

It was ridiculous, then, the thought that before this visit he hadn’t known he was in love with her. She was Ginny Weasley. Beautiful Ginny who had boys falling at her feet, kind Ginny who took care of everyone she came in contact with, brilliant Ginny who was quick as a whip, brave Ginny who fought in a war at age 16 and faced much darker still at age 11- his Ginny. His talented, talented Ginny who was going to be a professional athlete. How cool was that? She was so cool and brave- his Ginny. Just looking at her now, talking a mile a minute, blushing at the confession that she’d been worried about her family’s reaction to her decision- about his reaction, eliciting confidence- he knew he was head over heels in love. She deserved the world and Harry would do anything to be the one to personally hand it to her.

Harry spent a while celebrating with Ginny and reluctantly left her to go to bed -way past her curfew- after about her tenth yawn. With promises to write and see each other soon Harry left on his way home feeling much lighter than he had in weeks.

Harry had always thought when he felt love for the first time it would be a bit more climactic than this. But strangely, this felt much better than any notion of falling in love he’d built up in his head. This was easy… natural. Nothing dramatic or flashy just… just the sheer act of being with Ginny was enough. And he was so fine with that.

It wasn’t until much later- in the early hours of the morning when Harry was finally crawling into bed that he realized he hadn’t even told her he loved her. What. A. Git.

#hinny fluff #hinny #harry x ginny

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mytwinklelights · 3 years

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A Reunion - Part 1 | Peter Parker x Stark! GN Reader

A/N: Remember over a month ago when I wrote this preview and didn’t post again? Oops sorry, I had to take a little break from tumblr because I was reading way too much fanfic. But now I’m back, just to post, still no reading for a while! Umm but yeah, here’s the first part! I can’t guarantee when part 2 will be posted but it’ll definitely be within the next 2 weeks! I hope you like it, please let message me with any feedback because I need validation to stay motivated lol

Summary: Y/N is an Avenger, the youngest Avenger. Then, Peter Parker comes along and they’re happy to finally have someone their age to hang out with, even if it was the boy they spent their senior year of high school crushing over.

Content Warnings: I don’t think there are any - let me know if I missed any though!

Genres: Friends to lovers, Stark! Reader, Frequent cameos from Avengers and them being cute, Slow burn, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 2019

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“Alright gang.” Tony begins, standing in front of all the Avengers at the end of a large oval table in the conference room.

“I’m sure you’ve seen these ‘viral videos’ of this Spider-Boy kid swinging around the city and being a friendly neighbourhood vigilante. Well, Happy and I have managed to track him down and he’s agreed to join the team”

“Viral videos of superheroes?” Steve exclaims, looking at Tony whilst tilting his head and looking genuinely exhausted. “I’m still catching up on these keyboard cats and kids biting fingers”.

I giggle. Having Steve around was just the same as having an uncle you saw once the year who lived of the grid. He was extremely sweet, but utterly clueless to anything other than his job. But I mean, that job does include fighting evil aliens.

“Anyway…” Tony continues as the other Avengers chuckles die down after Steve’s outcry “he arrived not too long ago. Happy is next door giving him all the T&Qs and they should be done now. Let me just check and I’ll introduce you all.” Tony then leaves the room, and the other Avengers start to talk among themselves.

I pull out my phone and type ‘NYC spider boy’ into YouTube clicking on the second search result with 20 million views. I have seen this video before as my friend Michael sent it to me around a week ago.

“Do you think there are many other super kids wandering around the city?” Sam asks, whilst looking at the video of my shoulder. Currently the hero is stopping a city bus from off-roading into some confused tourists by building up a wall with his web.

“I doubt it, I mean I guess he’s the only one going viral” I answer, moving the angle of my phone so the others who have gathered around me can see “but it would be cool to be able to meet some people my age who do what I do, no offence guys”

They all laugh. Being the youngest Avenger and hanging out with 30+ year olds all the time can be kind of isolating, but it’s like having a super close family. A family who also happen to be in life and death situations regularly together. But that’s a great bonding experience I would say.

“Guys, this is Peter, the Spider-Boy” Tony draws our attention away from my phone to the door where he has just entered.

“Spider-Man” Peter mutters as a lame attempt to correct him.

“Peter?” I question and the boy stood in front of me was not who I expected. I didn’t expect the masked vigilante swinging through New York to be someone that I knew.

“Y/N?” He responds, looking even more confused than I am “What are you doing here?”

“So Tony Stark is your dad?” Peter asks.

After seeing a guy from your school who you shared a chemistry class with last year, walking into a super-secret meeting for superheroes where he will be now joining your team. It is understandable that Peter and I were now talking this out to figure out how this state could be so small.

“Yep” I answer. We were sat next to each other on bar stools at the kitchen island. Wanda made some of her famous fruit smoothies for us and we were both stirring them around with our straws whilst conversing alone in the main living space.

“But your last name isn’t Stark, or Potts?” He continues, genuinely really confused about this whole situation.

“Yeah, well you can’t have the daughter of a billionaire and superhero couple walking around New York City alone, going to a normal school, having normal hobbies. It’s like asking for me to be taken hostage. So, I don’t have either of their last names and the general public doesn’t know I exist. It’s for my safety” I continue, reciting this memorised answer I’ve had to say to multiple people once they find out my existence.

Peter nodded as if he was understanding everything, he probably was, but I guess this wasn’t the conversation he planned to have today.

“And you’re the great Spider-Man” I continued, wanting the change the subject from me to him. “How did that happen? Wait… were you Spider-Man when you sat behind me in Chem last year?”

He began to explain to me the story, it happened to him on our school trip to OSCORP we took last year for our Chem class that happened just before the end of the semester. Something about a radioactive spider. It was strange, kind of the weirdest superhero transformation story I’ve heard. And I’ve heard quite a few.

My story was nowhere near as interesting. I guess having superhero parents who were always around weird alien technology and contaminated substances led to some weird epigenetic alterations of their reproductive cells and then when they had me, I could turn invisible.

They didn’t know at first, I was seemingly a normal baby. Then at my 2nd birthday party when they surprised me with a freaky clown, I was so scared that my body just decided to turn invisible. They weren’t expecting it, the clown definitely wasn’t expecting it and they had to cover up with a very convincing lie.

From then, whenever I was embarrassed, scared or essentially in a situation where I wanted to disappear. I did. Literally. It wasn’t entirely effective though as even though my body tuned invisible, the clothes I was wearing didn’t. I spent the majority of my preteen years of being a walking hoodie and jeans with no head or hands protruding from the gaps. For my 13th birthday Bruce and I got to work on a suit which responds to the activity of my skin cells, when I was invisible, my suit was invisible. It made it a lot more effective for me to actually be invisible when I turned but it also meant my dad let me start training to become an Avenger.

Training was fun, I worked with Nat a lot in our gym in order to become an efficient fighter. ‘Just because people couldn’t see me, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t know how to serve a mean right hook’ she always said. I also spent a lot of time with Wanda, trying to manage my powers. Now I am able to actually turn invisible and visible again on demand. And it only takes extreme embarrassment now to turn me invisible against my will, which is great because mum and dad finally let me, after my years of begging, attend Midtown High and stop being home school. This is where I met Peter last year and now I’m at Columbia studying genetics and engineering. A double major, I know but when you’re around the top geniuses in the world everyday, there is no such thing as too much learning.

“So, I guess we’re the only Midtown Alumni to have these crazy powers huh?” Peter finishes. After a long ramble about his becoming a superhero story. I guess he wanted to ease the tension after I couldn’t really think of what to say after “that’s super cool”. It wasn’t like I wasn’t interested, I really was, but when I wanted to have another person my age to hang out with, I didn’t expect it to be the boy I spent my senior year of high school obsessing over. I had turned shy, like really shy, like my normal levels of shy times 50. I couldn’t think of what to say.

“Sorry, if that story was too long and boring, I’ve only gotten to tell it to one person before, my best friend Ned so I was kind of excited to be able to tell it again.”

“No, it wasn’t boring, it was genuinely really cool!” I say a little too loudly and enthusiastically. I cringe at my tone of voice and speak normally again as I continue “It’s just I didn’t really expect the new Avengers recruit to be you, you know, like someone I know. It’s just kind of weird, but nice? I don’t know, now I’m rambling”

Peter chuckles.

“Umm, so are you going to be staying with us whilst you train or are you going back to Queens?” I ask, hoping this new question will miraculously erase Peter’s memory of what I last said.

“A bit of both, my Aunt is back in queens and I don’t want to leave her completely alone, but this upstate facility is a little too far for an everyday commute. I’m here just for today but once I start training on Monday, I think I might stay for the whole week.”

“Well, I can give you the tour! Since you’ll be staying with us soon, I guess you’ll want to know where everything is!” I say whilst jumping of my bar stool and putting my half full smoothie cup in the fridge. I noticed peter has just finished his, so I grab the glass and put it in the dishwasher for him. He thanks me as I do so.

“So this is the kitchen, where we make our food, different from the kitchen where the chefs make our food for occasions, charity events blah blah blah. And also, this seating area here is kind of the main seating area where we’ll sit throughout the day. Lots of sofas because there are lots of us and this is Bucky’s armchair. Don’t ever sit in Bucky’s armchair.” I say, stopping behind the chair and resting my hand on the headrest.

“Bucky, scary guy with the metal arm right?” Peter questions whilst following me at a slight distance around the room as I show him around. I nod. “Yeah, don’t worry, I won’t be sitting in his chair” he laughs.

I continue to show him the rest of the complex, the gym, the labs and finish up on the floor with all our rooms.

“I’m not sure which one of these rooms will be yours because we have a couple spare ones, but they all have the same layout. Look I’ll show you mine” I walk into my room, then hold the door open for Peter so he can follow me in.

“Uh, so this is my room. Obviously, yours won’t be decorated like mine but It’ll be the same size and have an en-suite attached with a full shower and tub and stuff. You know, the basics” I say, whilst sitting on the edge of my bed.

“I like your room, it’s cosy” he adds whilst looking around and then heading for the bookshelf as soon as he spots it.

“Ah thanks, I mean it’s cool, bigger than when we were in the tower in the city so I can’t complain” I say whilst also looking around. What is it about someone else being in your room that makes you see it with fresh eyes and make you super self-conscious that there is going to be a rogue piece of underwear on the floor? Even though I know I tidied my room this morning.

“Holy crap, Vision you scared the life out of me” I say on an exhale whilst holding my hand to my chest after the large gasp I just made as he enters the room, through the wall.

“Sorry, but your door is open” He continues, “Mr. Stark has told me that your car is here to take you back home Mr. Parker. If you would just follow me, I can lead you there” Vision continues, as if him just floating through my bedroom wall and speaking to the boy from my chemistry class now turned superhero was a normal thing to happen on a Thursday evening.

“Oh… thanks Vision” Peter says with some hesitancy, you can see that this is a weird circumstance for him too. “Well, I’ll see you on Monday then” he says smiling at me and walking towards the door. Which vision doesn’t use to exit.

“Yeah, see you then” I smile as he closes the door and I’m left in my room listening to him shuffling down the corridor.

Part 2

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker imagines #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagines #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #avenger imagines #stark! reader #stark!reader

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nakedmossy · 3 years

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Golden Hour ☼

A Triple Frontier Story - Part 1/?

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Molly [reader] has been living on the beaches of Mexico for the last 3 years since being honourably discharged from the army and leaving her fiance back in Texas. Riddled with PTSD, she went on a bender, ending up in a small coastal farming town in the Yucatan. Forced into early retirement despite being the best sniper in her company and all the trauma that came with that responsibility, she has worked hard to obtain peace in her new life. She was closer than ever to fully achieving it, that is, until her ex-crew member and lifelong friend, Will Miller, showed up with a proposition to bring her out of retirement for one last job with the boys. -----------------------------

The sun was hovering around the horizon, beating down on the beach as the water lapped the shore. You rolled the dirty cup around in the dishwater absentmindedly, scrubbing the dried coffee off the sides, letting your hands soak. It had been an easy day, a 5am rise for a morning surf, a bike ride to the market to pick up some fruit, and a mid day Dive to a wreck site with some tourists. All-in you had pocketed around $50, including tips, and a complimentary phone number from the bachelor who had tried to frisk you while you filled the tanks on the dock. It would get you enough food to last through to the weekend, and if it didn't, well, you could always call the bachelor tourist for dinner.

You were caught up in a daydream when you heard something rolling in through the bush, the sounds of the studded tires reverberating off of the rock and palm trees, the sand and jungle brush cracking and moving, the dull hum of the engine. You tipped your head closer to the window over the sink to see a slick black motorbike come to a stop near your hitch, a large muscular figure hooking his helmet on the handlebar before jumping off and walking towards your trailer door. Your hand hovered over the sidearm you kept loaded on your kitchen counter.

“Hey Sweet Cheeks” The voice shouted, the silhouette keeping its arms and hands visible.

Your stomach dropped. No way. The voice belonged to the boy who had pinched your ass as a kid, annoyed your ass as a teen, saved your ass as a new recruit in the army, and more than once grabbed your ass at the bar while you squeezed your ass into a tight dress. You froze for a moment before you looked out your window and saw him standing at your trailer door, waiting.

You opened it abruptly, swinging it hard enough that it hit the side of the trailer with a loud clank. You kept your arm out to keep it wide, surveying the sight in front of you with a shocked expression, your chest rising and falling in shallow, tight breaths of disbelief. He did the same, his eyes travelling up from your bare feet, along your tanned legs, to your jean shorts and your braless tank top, all the way to your shaded eyes.

“Will Miller” You spoke, his name like a muscle memory in your mouth. “What the fuck are you doing here.”

You took three long seconds before you smiled, then you practically jumped out of your trailer and into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist, laughing uncontrollably in surprise and excitement. He squeezed you tight, one hand around your hips, the other on the back of your head, compressing you into his muscular frame. He let out a low growl of contentment while he nuzzled his head into your hair.

“Good to see you Molly” He mumbled.

You squeezed him with as much strength as you could muster before he let you slide down, your feet hitting the sand below. You brought a hand up to shade your eyes, the sun beaming directly in your eyes from behind his shoulder. You knew his face like the back of your hand, you had grown up with it chasing after you with spiders and nerf guns, then spent 10 years in active service being chased by cockroaches and real guns. You hadn’t seen him since you moved to Mexico.

“What are you doing here, man!” You laughed, you couldn’t stop smiling. He hadn’t changed at all, aside from a few new laugh lines around his mouth. His smile was reserved as usual, but unabashed.

“Oh, you know….I was in the area” He winked and looked around, snickering. Your end of the beach was cut off to tourists and hardly even accessible to locals. You weren’t even sure how they got a trailer there in the first place. It was as visibly remote as you could get in the Yucatan these days.

“How did you…find me here?” You watched him watching you closely, like he was looking for something.

“A local kid working at the market. I asked for directions to the little local Turkey with yellow hair and he practically drove me here himself.” He grinned with mischief and dodged my hand as I smacked him. “He seemed to know who I was, too.” He looked at you expectantly, which made you giggle to yourself.

Your friends son, Erik, was one of the few kids who spoke clean English and visited often. You had helped him with his math tests last year and he had agreed to cut you firewood for a year. He had seen the picture of you and your crew in your trailer and demanded stories around the fire every time he came by. He asked about Will the most.

“I can’t believe you’re here right now.” You said, stricken with shock again and unable to gather yourself. “Whats it been…2, 3 years?”

“2 years and 5 months” Will said quietly, smiling at you. “You look younger somehow”

“Yeah, well, that’s the tequila and the saltwater for ya. Stick me back in Iraq and strap a rifle on my chest, ill age 10 years in front of your very eyes”

Will nodded with a knowing smile and looked around, checking out your decaying trailer and old truck, his eyes settling on the boat overturned on the beach, which you were in the midst of patching and doing engine maintenance on.

You shared a quiet moment together, taking each other in, before he smiled again and open his arms for another hug. “Come’ere kid”

He squeezed you again and this time found your butt, pinching it.

“Fucki-OUCH” You wailed, pulling away and smacking his chest. He laughed like a little boy and bounced away a step, stretching his arms and sighing, relaxed.

“So,” You said after a few moments of silence, before stepping back and pacing in a half circle once. “You want a drink?”

He smiled at you and you felt your head spin. It was the same familiar smile he used to give you when you were kids and you couldn’t reach something or you needed his help lifting something. Not patronizing, just…pleasantly amused.

“Yeah, a drink would be nice.”

“Grab a chair, i’ll be right back” You motioned to the seats surrounding the fire pit that was on the edge of the sand. He turned and walked towards them and you felt your chest tighten. You could never calm down when he was around, staring at you, his physical presence was overwhelming. Even still, after all this time. After everything that had happened in the war, your breath caught when he smiled.

When you came back out with two glasses of bourbon, neat, he had his feet perched toe to heel and was leaning back, enjoying the view of the ocean.

“Pretty okay view to wake up to” You said, handing him his drink. You saluted each others glasses and he smiled, looking back out at the water.

“Unreal. I wouldn’t leave.”

“I don’t” You winked.

“So how did you end up here anyways” He took a drink and savoured it, balancing the glass on the armrest.

You took a long, deep breath and leaned back in your chair before exhaling quickly and looking around.

“I came down after Pete and I.…after I left. He took the house, I took…my shit, and I split.” You laughed bitterly, rubbing your eyebrow. “I don’t know. I went rogue for a bit and woke up here one morning after a bender, just never left.”

Will was quiet for a few moments, considering what you said, before speaking.

“Did things end badly - with Pete?” He was watching you intently.

You held his gaze boldly, amidst your discomfort regarding the topic, your face a blank canvas.

“No” You lied, forcing a smile.

His eyes narrowed slightly but he looked back at the water and took another drink.

“What’re you doing to make money?”

“Lots. Pole dancing, escorting. Selling drugs.”

You were mostly kidding about the last part, but you had sold a couple bags of weed to some of the local teenagers after you found out they were buying it from the cartel - trying to keep their names out of the streets as long as you could before they inevitably got recruited.

He was looking at you again, his face dark now, a shadow of the light hearted kid you had gone to prom with.

“Seriously, Mol. What are you doing down here.”

“Getting interrogated apparently. Calm down, Ironhead. Nothing illegal.” But when he didn’t budge you continued “Im a Dive Master, I take tourists out to some of the reefs every couple of days to pay the rent, and I help out at some of the farms on the off season.”

Half satisfied by your half answers he swirled his drink and took a sip.

“Enough about me, care to explain what you’re doing down here? Turning up at sundown like an old friend?” You watched him closely, observing his posture, noticing the hilt of his sidearm poking out the side of his t-shirt.

“Working” He said bluntly, returning your snarky smile with an equally shaded answer. “Recruiting.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you sat deeper in your chair, unbelieving how crassly he was owning up.

“Unbelievable. Just right down to business eh? You turn up here after 2 years, sorry, 2 years and 5 months and you don’t have the courtesy to wait 10 minutes before you pull this shit? No.” You said firmly. “No. Im retired."

He nodded, then leaned forward and downed the rest of his drink, placing the glass at his feet and resting his elbows on his knees. He watched you with such an intensity that you shifted in your seat and looked away.

“Mol, look at me.”

You sneered and looked at him, your hat shading your eyes from the setting sun, but barely.

“Its a 2 day job at most. 1 day and a single shot if we’re clean-”

“No” You cut him off, leaning forward to stand up.

“Its 5 million USD” He said quickly, stopping you from walking away. “Each.”

You took a deep breath and waited, considering sitting back down. You stayed standing. You tilted your head to the side and lifted your hand to your mouth.

“Who” You said quietly, not wanting to give him the impression you were seriously considering it.

“Juarez.”

You choked you had laughed so hard and so quick. You sat down abruptly on the edge of your chair, looking at him like he had two heads.

“No way. Not a chance. Are you kidding?”

He said nothing, just watched you and raised his eyebrows, the words ‘5 million’ written across his forehead like a banner. When it was clear he wasn’t joking you leaned forward, matching his posture, ducking your head down until you had his eyes squared with yours.

“Listen to me. There’s dangerous, there’s what we did in the army, and then there’s that.” You waited for a reaction that never came. You pressed on. “Will, I have been down here for 3 years. Living, working, fucking with these people. Juarez isn’t just a cartel boss who cuts fingers off and mails them to the victims kids on their birthdays. He systematically brings down monarchies. He beheads children. That man is a fucking monster.”

Will sat firm, his jaw set, not breaking eye contact. He was challenging you, as he had a million times before, only this time neither of you were in uniform and both of you had level playing ground. He wasn’t your superior officer, and you weren’t his sniper.

“We’ve dealt with worse.” He said finally.

You broke eye contact and looked at your bare feet planted in the sand, your tanned skin smooth and warm. No scars, no combat boots, no dust. Freedom. What you had worked for your whole life.

“Its 5 million, Mol. One target, one shot. Nothing more. Freedom for the rest of your life.”

“I already have that. Look around” You put your arms out, the whole of the beach and your paradise encapsulated in them, rage tickling under your skin. “5 million aint worth giving this up, 5 billion wouldn’t even be.”

He looked around and back at your trailer, at the rusting metal and the fraying tarps, before setting his gaze on your arm, on the scar that ran up it, and finally back to your eyes.

“Hows the Physio down here.” He said darkly. “Your off season farm job’s health insurance covering it?”

You flinched like he had hit you, your eye flickering as the memory of the bullet cutting through your arm and shattering the bone blazed like fire in your peripheries.

“Fuck you, Will.” You said finally, your voice cracking when you said his name. You stood up and pushed past him, walking towards your trailer. Subconsciously you held your arm and rubbed it, the phantom pain lingering. The deep and permanent damage had bothered you every day since you obtained the injury 6 years ago, on one of the last missions you had done with Will and the crew before they retired.

“Molly” Will grabbed your arm from behind, pulling you to a stop, and you winced. Not from pain, more from recognition. “Im sorry” He said intently, his eyes searching yours.

“I can’t” You said finally, your posture strong and your eyes set. You were still muscular and built like you were in active duty, but so was Will. “Even if I wanted to - I can’t.”

Will took a step closer, his breath almost on your face now.

“Why not” He pushed.

“Because” You spit back at him “I can’t use a scope. Or Binoculars. My heads fucked up.”

Wills eyebrows knit together and he looked over your head with his gaze, face taught with confusion.

“What’you mean?”

You shrugged and licked your bottom lip, looking away from his prying eyes.

“I had an accident a few years ago. I got a concussion that fucked with my equilibrium, haven’t been able to use binoculars or a scope properly since.”

You took a breath and straightened your back, setting your jaw. If he was going to play hard ass, then so were you. Fuck his intimidation tactics, you had learned how to deal with those in elementary school. He would have to try harder.

“Service?”

You shook your head, your lips pursed.

“After I left”

“What happened?”

Your eye flickered again, the memory of Pete attacking you and knocking you down a flight of stairs, your head cracking off the banister, still as fresh as if it happened yesterday.

“I fell.”

Will, visibly agitated now, shifted his weight to his other foot. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t know, probably because I didn’t expect you to come down here and try to recruit me to whack the leader of my neighbourhoods biggest cartel?”

“Mol, im your friend, you shou-“ He started, but you backed up, shaking your head.

“Oh yeah? And where have you been? Last time I checked a prerequisite for friendship was checking in once in a fucking blue moon.”

Will bared his teeth in frustration and took a deep breath, looking down at his feet with his hands on his hips.

“Was it Pete?”

You didn’t answer, which was answer enough. Will’s hands covered his face and he groaned audibly, rubbing them into his hair in frustration.

“Molly. I have like 5 minutes left in me before I pull the fuse line to your propane, light a match, and drag your ass out of here on the back of my fucking bike. Come for drinks. Hear us out. Please.”

“Us?”

“They’re all here, waiting at the bar.”

You shook your head, smiling bitterly. Of course they were.

“There are better soldiers out there. Better snipers out there. Go recruit one of them.”

“Not true. You never missed a shot.”

“I missed once” You started, your voice lowering reflexively. “And you know what shot I missed.”

He held your eyes as the memory lingered in the air between you, the sound of the bullet hitting the body of the child behind your target would be something you took to your grave. It haunted every minute of every day.

“Molly, come on. Look at you. You’re living in a dump trailer with a half broke boat and a fucking peddle bike. You’re better than this and you know it.”

“Im not better than shit. Don't feed me that 'we were warriors' crap. I was a girl who was good with a gun, and I killed people. And now i'm broken. Thats the truth."

“MOL, I NEED YOU-” He yelled now, his hand shaking. The outburst took you off guard and you stepped back, your face slack. Will grabbed his hand and rubbed it, turning around and sighing deeply before facing you again. “Molly, I need you to hear us out. Come have a drink in town, listen to Pope’s plan. Please.”

You were still on guard from his outburst but you closed your mouth, your eyes dropping to his hand, which still shook lightly. PTSD was a tricky motherfucker.

You blinked silently a few times before raising your eyes to his again, a silent moment of recognition passing between you. He wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t seriously asking for help, and the rest of the crew wouldn’t be waiting if there wasn’t already a good plan in place.

“They’re all here? Redfly?”

Will nodded, his jaw tight.

“Fine” You said then, swallowing your pride and knowing you would regret it. “One drink.”

“One drink” Will repeated, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

“But Will,” You interrupted his budding smile and took a step so your faces were close again. “I wasn’t joking. Im not the shot I used to be. If we do the Recon and I tell you I can’t do it, that’s it. Im out. Full stop.”

Will blinked a few times as his eyes drifted down your face to your mouth and back up, his eyebrow twitching.

“I understand, Mol” was all he replied.

----

#triple frontier #charlie hunnam #will miller #benny miller #frankie morales #santiago garcia #garrett hedlund #pedro pascal #will ironhead miller #will miller x reader #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier boys #oscar isaac

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thedumpsterqueen · 4 years

Text

Standards of Performance, Chapter 8: Heartbreak and Lattes

From the Beginning, Previous Chapter

AO3 Link

Only announcement for this week: I've started a new job, and my schedule is such that a weekly update is unlikely without the quality being verrrry questionable. Therefore, I've decided to move off a set schedule, but I PROMISE I will update at least twice a month. Thank you for your patience and understanding; I know a set schedule is preferable but I wanna make sure this doesn't go to shit. Also... apparently this isn’t showing up in the tags I use, which sucks - so reblogs help a lot if you’re able. I love you guys <3

Summary: You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter Summary: In which decisions are made and overturned and many cups of coffee are drunk.

Words: 2666

Rating: Explicit, 18+. Warnings on AO3.

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

You were sulking.

Not enough to affect your work - you’d have to go through something much worse than heartbreak before you risked your internship. But your home life was beginning to resemble a timelapse straight out of an overdramatic teen movie wherein the protagonist’s crush asks someone else to prom. Your apartment was a pile of half-done laundry, takeout containers, and case files; your evenings filled with sad Spotify playlists and too much red wine.

And work? Not much better. Seeing him stride into the office every morning, filled with power and purpose and completely oblivious to the fact that he had shoved your heart into a metaphorical blender with a simple response to a seemingly innocuous question was really starting to wear you down. You had been so sure, that was the thing - so convinced by the team’s reaction to your story that it had all meant something. And maybe it had. But he had looked you in the face and told you it didn’t, so that was the answer that mattered.

So maybe sulking was the wrong word. ‘Spiraling’ was more accurate. A controlled spiral, mitigated only by the fact that 1. you had appearances and responsibilities to maintain and 2. Aaron Hotchner wasn’t actually the reason you showed up to work every morning, despite what it had seemed lately.

And it had seemed like that. You remembered getting the phone call that you had been accepted for an interview for the BAU internship, and the phone call that you made it to the final round, and finally the phone call that you had gotten the position - each more exciting than the last. You remembered meeting him, shaking his hand, completely oblivious to how much he was about to fuck up your life. Even when you first started to feel something for him, you convinced yourself it was nothing - a harmless crush wrought from your veneration and respect for one of the best in the field. Someone you admired. Someone you wanted to be one day. But then he’d made the unfortunate move of revealing bits and pieces of himself to you, exposing tiny slivers of humanity and emotion you were convinced didn’t exist, until you realized he was a person, an incredible one, and it wasn’t just admiration you felt anymore. It took all of a few months and a handful of genuine conversations until you were this far gone, and after he made it clear that your pining was one-sided, you knew you had to stop your fall there.

So you tried.

You kept your conversations strictly professional. Avoided driving with him or sitting next to him on flights whenever possible. Disallowed yourself lingering glances. But it was still too goddamn much. He was still too goddamn much.

The next case pushed you over the edge. It was bad (not just normal bad, BAU bad), and it was no one’s fault, not really. You got called in late, the evidence was shoddy at best, and when all was said and done, you caught the unsub, but only after he’d killed 4 women. The last one died moments before you arrived and apprehended the killer, and despite the delay of those few minutes being, again, no one’s fault, the team was at each other’s throats the whole trip home.

You were slouched in the corner of the plane trying to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. Morgan and Reid were sniping viciously about something completely unrelated to the case, because despite everything they’d just endured, they would never outright blame each other for what went wrong. Hotch, deciding he’d heard enough, raised his head slightly and said quietly,

“They’re not always going to end the way we want. We did all we could.”

And you were just done. You couldn’t stand to be around this pillar of strength and compassion and resolve. You needed to hate him for rejecting you, and you couldn’t. So you marched over to his seat, and, steeling yourself, you said what you’d been wanting to say since he broke your heart:

“I need a day off.”

It had sounded more dramatic in your head.

“A day off?”

You nodded. Hotch gathered himself, seeming to realize that such a request wasn’t unheard of (though perhaps in his department it essentially was) and nodded.

“This case was difficult. I wish I could say exceptionally so. Get me your paperwork by tonight and take tomorrow off.”

You went back to your seat, relief overshadowed by disgust that it wasn’t, in fact, the 4 deaths you’d just been privy to that had broken you - it was the crush on your boss. You’d handled this case like a champ, in fact, because you were so absorbed in self-pity that you couldn’t feel anything else.

You needed to fucking recalibrate.

***

You were determined to make the next 24 hours the most self-indulgent, healing 24 hours you’d ever experienced. Quiet breakfast at a cafe? Planned. Self-improvement books? Downloaded. Vibrator? Fully charged.

No man was going to keep you from focusing on the internship you’d been gunning for for years. No man was worth that. You were going to cry, you were going to journal, you were going to masturbate, and you were going to get him out of your head.

You were going to march into the quaint little coffeeshop two blocks away that you’d Googled last night, you were going to order the cinnamon spice latte that an indie food blog had called “the epitome of fall,” and you were going to go for a nice, early morning walk.

Except you weren’t.

Because the next morning, when you turned to leave after grabbing your drink from the barista, you saw Hotch sitting at the table by the window. And Hotch saw you. And you weren’t equipped to handle this situation, because you were only 4 pages into your self-help book so far and honestly, the smile that lit up his face when you made eye contact would’ve broken you even if you’d read all the ‘how to move on’ manuals the literary world had ever produced.

So you obeyed his beckoning hand and sat down.

“Thought you’d be up to something much more exciting on your one day off.”

You smiled wryly. “This is exciting. I haven’t had coffee that wasn’t made out of an ancient breakroom pot or a hotel carafe in months.”

Hotch chuckled. “I’m afraid you’ve made a mistake by coming here. Breakroom coffee is going to be impossible to tolerate now.”

“That good, huh?”

“Better. Try it.”

His eyes on you, you took a sip of your latte, and swallowed the most delicious concoction you’ve ever tasted in your life.

“Holy shit.”

“Indeed,” Hotch confirmed, ignoring your vulgarity. “I’ve been coming here before work for years.”

“I hope you don’t mind if I impose on your hangout,” you laughed. “I haven’t tried many coffee shops around here, but I imagine this is hard to beat.”

“Not at all. But just know - this is my table.”

You grinned. “Understood.”

You still went on that walk. Still read that book. Still spent the day trying to think about anything else but the softness of that moment - you and Hotch sipping lattes, bathed in the light of the early morning sun.

But on Thursday, the next day, bright and early, you found yourself at that coffee shop again. This time, you took a seat at the table adjacent to his. He looked up and smiled.

“Glad you heeded my advice.”

You smiled back and gestured to the heaping pile of files in front of him. “Not like there’d be much room for me anyways.”

You finished your coffees in relative silence and left at the same time for the office.

Friday, you learned Hotch’s coffee order: flat white with an extra shot of espresso.

Saturday, you happened to arrive before he did, so you ordered his drink and set it on his table. Ten minutes passed and you thought he wasn’t going to show up, but he soon bustled in looking frantic. You waved him over, and he smiled when he saw the coffee waiting for him.

“Sorry, got stuck on a phone call,” he apologized. Like you were expecting him. Like this was something you guys did now.

You supposed it was.

Sunday, you got called for a case before you even made it to the coffee shop. You sat down in the conference room at 6 am, groggy as all hell. Hotch entered after you and handed you a mug, saying nothing before moving to address the team.

There was a small sticky note attached to the mug that read, “It’s no cinnamon spice latte, but it’s caffeine just the same.”

You fought to keep a grin from splitting your face, and ignored the team’s knowing smirks.

The case was in a small town in Colorado. The motel the team was staying in was less than ideal because of the location - bare bones, broken heaters, probably had the same bedsheets since its opening over 50 years ago. There was a small coffee pot in your room, and after you arrived Sunday evening, you walked down the street to the small convenience store and bought a bag of ground coffee.

When you handed him the cup Monday morning, he looked at it like it was salvation itself. Which, judging by the dark circles under his eyes, it may well have been.

“Long night?” you asked, loading into the back of the SUV.

“Always,” he responded from the front seat. He took a sip of the coffee. “I don’t mean to offend, but this is terrible.”

You gasped in mock indignation. “I’ll have you know that is genuine Folgers pre-ground gas station coffee.”

“It tastes like it was made in a toilet,” he grumbled. He took another sip and smirked at you in the rearview mirror.

You’d long stopped trying to get over him.

After the case in Colorado, the team was given a merciful break from the rapid-fire calls they’d been caught up in the last few months.

You and Hotch continued your pre-work ritual, showing up to the coffee shop earlier and earlier each day. For you, it was a conscious attempt to spend more time with him. He didn’t acknowledge the extra 20 minutes that had worked its way into the morning routine, but you could only hope his intentions were the same.

One particularly chilly fall day, you burst in the door 10 minutes later than your unofficial meeting time. Hotch shot you a patented raised eyebrow as you unwrapped your scarf and took your seat.

“Overslept?”

“No,” you retorted, “I was trying to make breakfast and my stove stopped working. Again. Maintenance can’t come fix it for two days.”

“Did you eat?” he asked.

“No, I was just gonna grab a muffin or something here.”

He nodded and went back to his laptop.

The next day, you sat down to a metal thermos on your table.

“What’s this?” you asked him.

“Oatmeal,” he responded without looking up. “You said your stove was broken.”

You opened the thermos to a puff of brown sugar-scented steam and the feeling that your heart was going to burst out of your chest.

“Thank you,” you whispered, afraid your voice would crack if you spoke any louder.

He looked over at you with an expression softer than you’d ever seen him wear. “You’re welcome.”

A week later, you’d miraculously worked your way through the backed-up deluge of paperwork from the last few cases, and after clicking through the morning’s emails, you slammed your laptop shut.

“We should go for a walk,” you said to Hotch, who somehow still had a stack of files in front of him that was threatening to surpass the table’s weight capacity.

“A walk?” Hotch asked, looking at the aforementioned files as if he were afraid they’d hear him considering the idea of a break.

“Yeah,” you responded. “Come on. It’s so pretty outside, and it’s gonna be too cold soon. Besides, we’re more caught up with work than we have been in months.”

“Speak for yourself,” he quipped, but he packed his briefcase just the same.

It really was beautiful outside. As soon as you stepped out the door, a gust of wind sent red and orange leaves skittering across the sidewalk at your feet. You wrapped your scarf tighter around your neck and motioned to the park across the street.

“Want to walk through the park?”

Hotch shrugged, a noncommittal ‘yes’, and followed you.

The park was sprawling, packed with massive trees in the midst of displaying their autumnal colors. Despite the early hour, there were joggers and dog-walkers populating the dirt path that meandered through. You strolled side by side, making idle chat about the weather and the holidays coming up, until you came to a bench set beside a pond in a small grove. Hotch took a seat and you followed his lead.

Reclining your head against the back of the bench, you exhaled. “This is the closest I’ve come to being out in nature in forever. I need to do this more often.”

Hotch murmured his agreement. “I’d apologize for the lack of free time, but I’m afraid it only gets worse.”

“When you officially join the team, you mean?”

“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “Assuming that’s something you’re interested in.”

“Of course I am,” you said, “but I didn’t think it was really up to me.”

“It’s not - I give the final recommendation.”

“Better start buying you more coffees then,” you teased, looking over at him.

“Unfortunately, as Unit Chief, I have a responsibility not to accept bribery.” He smiled back.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You studied his face - the stern curve of his brow, the carved structure of his jaw, the stress lines set in from decades of sleepless nights and unspeakable losses. Despite the increasing time you’d been spending in close proximity, you were mesmerized, as always, by the stormy intensity of his eyes meeting yours. You were close enough to smell his cologne, and you were reminded of the night in his apartment when he told you about his family. If you thought you’d fallen for him then, it was nothing compared to how you felt now, after starting each morning sitting beside him in the quiet peace of that downtown coffee shop.

“We should get going,” he murmured, not checking his watch, not shifting his gaze from yours. You nodded, not fully comprehending his words, feeling dazed at his nearness.

It was impossible to tell who made the first, imperceptible shift. All you knew is you scarcely had time to think before his hand was on your jaw, cradling the back of your head, bringing you to him. His mouth met yours and you closed your eyes instinctively, melting into his warm body beside you, fisting the front of his jacket in your hands.

You couldn’t remember ever having been kissed so decisively before. His fingers gripped into the base of your skull, his forehead nearly pressed against yours, and despite the chastity of your closed mouths, you whimpered into his. He stiffened at the sound and pulled back, still holding you, inches away.

You saw the shift in his eyes before he moved. It was as if he consciously closed some gate, walling himself off. His pupils, blown, started to retract to their normal size, frown returned, hand drew back. You watched, heart still racing, unable to speak as he turned to grab the briefcase sitting at his feet. Only then did he look back at you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and if his low voice was meant to betray any hint of emotion, you didn’t hear it.

He stood, walked around the back of the bench towards the path, and paused.

“I’ll see you at the office.”

You were too shell-shocked to reply.

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gaygryffindorgal · 3 years

Text

hphm fic: 'til tonight do us part

fandom: harry potter: hogwarts mystery

pairing: mc/merula snyde

word count: 2.2K

summary:

A party in the Slytherin common room leads both Verna and Merula to confront some things about themselves...

“You don’t know shit,” was what Merula spat back at her and Verna didn’t know what she said wrong this time. “You prance around like you own this school and think you’re so damn special!”

“That’s fucking rich, coming from you,” Verna arched an eyebrow at her nemesis. “You’re the one proclaiming to anyone who will listen that you’re the most powerful witch at Hogwarts.”

warnings: underage drinking, swearing, merula being mean

author’s note: no proof-reading, we die like men! aka i wrote this thing at 3am in my notes app and english isn’t my native language.

hphm fic: 'til tonight do us part

“I’m not sure about this,” Ben Copper said and caught up to Verna. He had been tailing behind her and Charlie for the past several staircases. “Maybe I should’ve stayed in the common room studying with Rowan…”

“Cheer up Ben, this is gonna be fun,” Charlie attempted but Ben still didn’t look convinced. He had been trying hard to step out of his comfort zone with varying degrees of success.

“Hush the both of you, we’re almost there.”

The three of them were approaching the Slytherin common room entrance in the dungeons and the utmost care was needed. Parties in Hogwarts were notoriously difficult to organize if you wanted anyone but your own house members to attend. This one had coordinated times at which someone from Slytherin would let students belonging to other houses in. Barnaby had agreed to open the door for Verna, Charlie, and Ben at 9.30.

“Why are we even going to a Slytherin party…?” Ben asked as they reached the entrance.

“Because Barnaby invited us and I can’t say no to him, it’d feel like kicking a puppy,” Verna answered and glanced around to make sure no one else was in the corridor. “Besides, I think all of us need to let out a little bit of steam.”

“You are aware that most Slytherins think we’re the worst?”

“Yeah, that’s part of the fun,” Charlie said as the door to the Slytherin common room swung open.

“Verna! You guys made it!” Barnaby greeted them with open arms, spilling a bit of the contents of his pint.

“Well Ben almost stayed behind to study but I’m very persuasive!” Verna announced and dragged both of her friends inside past Barnaby.

“Don’t say the S-word Verna, it’s forbidden,” he said with a grimace.

“Oh shit, sorry.”

They had all been extremely tied up with studying for their O.W.L.s for the past weeks and it did sound appealing to just forget the exams for the night. The common room was dark and illuminated by a green glow. Verna wasn’t sure what its source was, but it did create certain menacing flair for the party. The music was loud, and many of the attendees were dancing to its beat.

“So, where’s the fire whiskey?” asked Charlie and Barnaby pointed them to the direction of the drink selection before going off to talk to some of his friends.

“See, Ben, no worries, there are plenty of people from other houses in here,” Verna said observing Tulip and Tonks chatting with some 6th year Slytherins, as well as Penny and André sitting on a couch, heads close together, obviously deep in conversation.

“Is that… a thing now?” asked Charlie.

“Last week I asked André if he was seeing Penny and he said no,” Verna muttered.

“So, you think it’s a new thing? Or is André just full of shit?”

“Guys… I hate to interrupt your gossip club but…” Ben yanked Verna’s sleeve to get her attention. She turned to look where Ben was glancing. Merula Snyde was walking towards them, looking like a storm cloud.

“Oh, here we go…” Charlie whispered, and Verna gently punched him in the arm.

Merula stopped short in front of Verna and glared at her. She seemed taller somehow and Verna noticed she was wearing platform shoes. “What the fuck are you doing here, Malinda?”

“I came to party.”

“Nobody wants you and your loser friends here.”

“Barnaby invited us,” Verna said simply and waved at Barnaby, who waved back, smiling.

“Lee couldn’t read a room if it punched him in the face with a book made for toddlers.”

“Don’t be rude Merula, we’re just here to get drunk and hang out with our friends.”

Charlie saw this as an ample opportunity to poke the hornet’s nest and added: “At least we have some of those.”

Merula snapped her death glare to Charlie. “Shut up Weasley.”

“Anyway! We were just about to go talk to Penny, so I’ll be seeing you Merula!” Verna interjected, handed Ben and Charlie drinks, and ushered them towards Penny and André. “Just pretend I don’t exist, if you can,” she added with a wink, grabbed a drink for herself and followed her friends. When she glanced back, Merula was still standing there, staring daggers at her back. Verna couldn’t help but be amused.

It turned out both André and Penny still vehemently denied being involved with each other romantically in any shape or form, so Verna let it slide. They spent a good couple of hours drinking, talking, and dancing. Verna hadn’t realized how much she needed a night off until she finally got one. Between her studies, detention, and trying to find the Portrait vault, her free time was sparse.

“Vernaaaa… can you bring me a glass of water?”

She was called out of her thought by Penny, who had, to be fair, downed quite a few drinks by then.

“Sure, sit tight,” Verna got up and navigated to the table filled with various drinks. Penny had not been herself ever since her sister got trapped in the portrait and Verna knew she was frustrated by how long it was taking to break the curse.

As she was filling a cup with water, she heard a familiar voice behind her: “Water? That’s weak.”

“Hi Merula…”

“Don’t tell me you can’t hold your liquor,” Merula mocked as Verna turned to face her. Her makeup had smeared just a little in the corners of her eyes.

“It’s not for me,” Verna tried to move past Merula. The latter stepped in front of her to block her path.

“Maybe you should take Haywood to sleep, she looks like she’s about to pass out any second now.”

“Maybe you should mind your own damn business,” Verna suggested and started to feel annoyed.

“What? I’m just worried about my fellow students.”

“You’ve literally tried to kill me.”

“Bygones,” Merula smirked and took a sip of her drink.

“Maybe after you apologize.”

Merula had the audacity to laugh, she truly was infuriating. “Don’t hold your breath, Malinda.”

Verna had had enough and pushed her way past Merula, ignoring her grunt of protest. She was beginning to think Merula enjoyed pissing her off.

“Did Merula give you trouble?” asked André once she got back.

“No more than usual.”

“Maybe we could curse her hair to fall off or something,” suggested Charlie lazily, having taken up most of the couch for himself, leaving just a small spot for Penny to sit in and sip her water.

“Chaz, as much as I would love to do that, I think we’re better off just keeping away from her tonight. After all, I’m actually supposed to get along with her for professor Rakepick’s sake.”

“Aren’t the both of you prefects…?” André asked, amused.

“Well yes, but that doesn’t really mean anything, I mean Merula is a prefect too!” Charlie protested.

André shook his head and returned to his conversation with Ben. Something about his gobstone collection.

“Guys… I feel a little sick…” came a quiet voice from Penny’s direction.

“Shit, don’t throw up on me,” Charlie quickly sat up and pulled away from Penny’s immediate vicinity.

“Okay, maybe you should call it a night,” Verna said and set her drink down on one of the tables. “C’mon, I’ll walk you back to your common room.”

“Oh… you don’t have to…”

“Shush, it’s no trouble… c’mon,” Verna took Penny’s hand and pulled her up. She swung on her feet for a second or two but seemed to be able to walk at least a little bit. “Charlie, can you tell Barnaby to let me back in in like… 10 minutes?”

Charlie saluted her and said: “Sure thing.”

That meant there was approximately 50% chance he’d forget and Verna would have to miss the rest of the party.

Getting Penny to walk in a straight line was a bit more difficult than Verna originally thought, but they managed to get out of the Slytherin common room and headed towards Hufflepuffs’.

“I don’t think I should have gone to that stupid party…” Penny mumbled. “I feel guilty enough as it is doing anything other than researching the vaults…”

“We’re doing everything we can, Rakepick is trying to find a way to break the curse right now,” Verna said, trying to sound confident but honestly, she wasn’t sure which one she was trying to comfort, herself or Penny.

“You don’t understand, Bea is all alone…”

Verna bit her lip. She knew Penny was taking this hard. “Penny, I get it. My brother is missing, I want to find the Portrait vault just as much as you.”

Penny let out a stifled sob. “Merlin, Verna I’m sorry. I didn’t think…”

“I know, I know it’s okay…”

Verna managed to get her friend safely to the Hufflepuff common room and started to make her way back to the party. She felt a little bit drunk and, being absolutely honest with herself, she would’ve preferred to feel a lot drunk. Before she could make it halfway back, she heard another pair of footsteps in the silent hallway. She was expecting to see other people heading to bed from the party, but instead it was Merula Snyde, who rounded the corner.

“Are you following me, Snyde?” Verna asked.

Merula’s face transformed into a scowl. “Stop flattering yourself, Malinda.”

“Well, I just think that you mysteriously run into me a lot these days…”

“Shut up.”

Verna lifted her hands in the air as a sign of surrender. “Suit yourself, can you let me back into the party since you’re out here?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I despise you.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? Is that what you have to say?” Merula asked and her hands balled into fists.

“I don’t really care, honestly. You’ve been on my case for four and a half years, I know you hate me,” Verna explained. She was fed up with Merula’s constant provoking.

“That’s fucking rich, coming from you,” Verna arched an eyebrow at her nemesis. “You’re the one proclaiming to anyone who will listen that you’re the most powerful witch at Hogwarts.”

Merula blushed and that made her even angrier. “I don’t do that anymore!”

“Sure, but you used to, while I’ve always just wanted to mind my own business.”

Merula took a few quick steps closer to Verna. “You think you’re better than me, huh?”

“That’s so not the point.”

“Then what is the point? Please enlighten me, illustrious Verna Malinda.”

“The point is, that you’re mean. And arrogant. You go out of your way to make people feel bad,” Verna made sure to stress each point, so they’d maybe sink in. “I’ve tried to be your friend more than once.”

Merula let out a mocking laugh. “I don’t want to be your friend.”

“The what the devil do you want?”

Something blazed in the purple of Merula’s eyes at the question, and before Verna could react, the other girl had pushed her against the wall. Vaguely, Verna thought about how easily she could free herself from the grasp, but she found herself not really wanting to. Oh.

“Merula what- “

“Shut up,” Merula grumbled. “Just shut up, you’re ruining everything!”

Confused, Verna studied Merula’s features. The colovaria-spell keeping her eyes purple had started to fade out the littlest bit and if you looked closely, you could see specks of brown. Merula had tiny little freckles dotted across her cheeks and nose that Verna had never noticed before (If her gaze also dropped down to Merula’s lips, then that was neither here nor there).

“I don’t want to fight,” she told the shorter girl. Merula’s expression remained unchanged. Verna sighed. “Just let me back into the party, I promise I won’t bother you.”

“No.”

“Fine, I’ll go to bed then, this isn’t worth it.”

That seemed to change something for Merula again, because she moved, grabbing Verna’s shirt to pull her closer. Verna tried to ignore the excitement in the bottom of her stomach, but it turned out she didn’t have to, because Merula didn’t hiss out any more thinly veiled threats or insults. Instead, she kissed her. There was something ferocious and hungry about the kiss that made everything inside Verna twist into knots. She pulled Merula closer by her waist and found herself not giving a damn if someone happened to walk by right then. For a blissful moment, Merula had her hands in Verna’s hair and was kissing her like she actually wanted to be there with her, and then just as quickly as it started, she pulled back again. The girls stared at each other in the silence of the corridor. Verna’s heart was beating its way out of her chest.

“Barnaby’s gonna open the door for you,” Merula only said and then turned her back to Verna, hurrying to the opposite direction along the corridor. Verna stood there for several seconds, dumbfounded. She raised her fingers to her lips and wondered whether she’d just imagined that. Slowly she forced her jelly-like legs to walk back to the Slytherin common room.

Like Merula had said, Barnaby was there to let her in, as cheerful as ever. Verna went back to her friends who had migrated to talk to Tonks, Tulip, and Liz. Charlie handed her abandoned drink back and assured her no one had messed with it. Verna wasn’t feeling particularly up for the party anymore. Her mind kept wondering to the dark corridor, messy mascara, and hot, fire whiskey-laced breath on her skin.

fin.

if you read the whole thing i’d love to hear what you think! this is the first time i’m actually publishing any of my fics, despite having written them for years so this is kind of like a moment for me, personally :’)

#hphm #hphm fic #hogwarts mystery fic #merula snyde #mc x merula #verna x merula #verna malinda #*my writing #i'm TERRIFIED #i've never published any of my fics before but apparenty that's #gOoD fOr YoU or whatever #so here i am #im rly sorry about the nonexistent british 80s slang i rly didnt even try #*oneshot

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itsjustmyfantasyroom · 4 years

Text

Sweetheart

I’ am shifting gears just for a moment! This series was meant to be posted after all the fluffy goodness that is the Fresh Start series (which there is plenty more still to come).....BUT.....I’am just to excited to leave it sitting in word not seeing light for while!

This was co written with my amazing @thatesqcrush !! A women after my own heart when it comes to our amazing human! Thank you for helping me out with this my lovely your a gem xx

Warning: This series is based on the reader being assaulted and talks of the usual SVU stuff.

Hope you guys enjoy this series as much as we liked writing it

Enjoy xx

You had been at Manhattan SVU for 12 months. You and Amanda worked in Atlanta SVU together for a couple of years; she was like the big sister you never had. She knew what you had been battling working in the same department, she had been through the same, as much as you tried to protect each other, it never seemed to work out that way and stuff happened. You were heartbroken when she left. You knew that by her leaving there was no one to protect you now other than yourself.

Many times when you woke up from a bad nightmare, you would call her and she would always answer and talk you through it, no matter what time it was.

“I’ am going to talk to my Lieutenant, I need to get you out of there”

Moving to New York happened quicker than expected. You moved into Amanda’s spare room and spilt everything 50/50. She said you could stay as long as you needed till you found the right place. Which came about 12 months later.

It was a Saturday afternoon when you guys finally collapsed on your 3 seater lounge, after you handed Amanda and Nick a beer. The 3 of you had spent most of the day moving in the few boxes you had and some furniture you had in storage.

“Thanks so much for helping me Nick, means a lot. You too Amanda;, pizza and drinks on me tonight., Sonny is going to meet us there”

“I am looking forward to tonight” Nick clinked his beer bottle to yours and Amanda’s. “I’ll shower first, you two take forever to get ready” Nick stood heading to your bathroom.

“How does it feel?” Amanda asked you with a small smile

“I’ll miss coming home to you Amanda” You both laughed “But you’re welcome here anytime” you gave her a big smile.

You guys had just got to the bar where you were meeting Sonny when your phone, Nick’s phone and Amanda’s phone started to ring all at once. You all stepped away from each other to answer them.

“Hey Carisi, you running late?”

“Hey Y/N, Liv needs you and Nick to go to Mercy to question a Vic”

“What now?”

“Yes now” and he hung up before you could argue.

Just as you turned to face Nick and Amanda, Amanda had started to walk off towards the prescient, which you were only a couple of blocks from.

“See you guys there later” Amanda said yelling over her shoulder.

“Guess it will take away pizza tonight” you sighed at Nick. “What a waste of an outfit.” You rolled your eyes and Nick laughed at you as he hailed down a cab.

----

“Wow Sweetie, you don’t look like a Detective. Have you thought about modelling? Those legs could get you a lot of work.” The victim replied, giving you the once-over.

“Thanks. But that’s not why we are here. The uniforms told us that Mr Garcia was going to rape you, can you tell us in your own words what happened?” You asked, opening your notepad.

----

You and Nick had just walked into the bullpen after leaving the victim at the Hospital.

“I’ll make the coffee, you fill in Liv”

You nodded and headed to Liv’s office that she wasn’t in, you then made your way to the interrogation rooms, when you smelt a familiar scent that made your tummy do flips every time you smelt it.

“Barba, what are you doing here?”

Rafael turned his head and choked on the sip of coffee he just took. You rushed over and started to rub his back to try and help him stop.

“Hey, you OK Counsellor?”

He finally stopped choking, he was all red and flustered. Not just from the choke but your touch and your outfit. You had on a pair of black leather paper bag waist shorts with a white collared, sleeveless button down tucked in with a black pair of low platform sling back sandals. Your hair half up, half down with a bun at the top in lose curls. Darker eye makeup and nude lips. You had your buttons of your shirt undone just shy of the top of your bra.

You moved your hand away from his back after one last rub, not really wanting to move your hand away at all, but it wasn’t the time or place.

“Thanks detective” he gave you a small smile

“Have you seen Liv? I need to fill her in”

“I’ am here. Wow Y/N you look nice, sorry to have to call you in”

“That’s OK Liv” you smiled.

“Were you on a date detective?” Rafael asked looking directly into your eyes.

“You’re funny Barba. No night out with the squad.” You smiled at him.

Liv saw the look on his face soften when you answered and she smiled to herself. She knew how Rafael felt about you, he had told her more than once. She tried to talk him into asking you out, but the cocky ADA was a bundle of nerves around you at the best of times and he didn’t know if someone as young as you would go for someone his age.

“Anyway Y/N” Liv butted in “What do we have?”

As you filled Liv in, you could see out of the corner of your eye how Rafael was staring at your legs looking you up and down.

“So Barba you didn’t answer my question, why are you here?” you said snapping him out of his trance.

He looked at you with reddened cheeks because you caught him starring.

“Below your radar no?” Liv asked straight after

“Ah, I have an interest in this case, Liv sidebar?” He looked between you and Liv

“Guess that’s my cue to leave” you smiled at them both, spun on your heels and walked back to your desk.

****

“Look, hear us out” You were standing in front of the squad in the questioning room with your Laptop open on the table “My friends and I used to do this all the time for fun. If he is guilty then its’s only way to trap him” you were looking between everyone in the room.

“And look Y/N already has an answer from him. He wants her to move to a less public site. Someone better call Barba, he needs to see this” Amanda backed you up.

The case that had come in involved Rafael’s childhood friends. He was sexting and sending photos to women and they were doing the same too him and it looked like he was paying them off to keep them quite. You and Amanda had worked on a case just before she left involving a CEO doing the same thing.

Rafael was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, and had informed you and Nick that Alex would never skip out of his Wife if you knew her. You saw his face change to hurt when he brought her up, but that was a conversation for later, and not in front of Nick. But you wanted to prove to him that his friend wasn’t loyal.

You had just sent a photo of yourself holding one side of your button down to see the top of your bra biting your bottom lip, not showing your full face when Rafael walked in.

“Where’s the fire?” closing the door behind him

“I think you should sit down Counsellor” you tried to soften the mood

“Thanks for your concern Detective, but I want to know what’s going on” he snapped at you, making you roll your eyes back at him.

Amanda started to fill him in so you scrolled down the screen showing him your conversation.

“He asked me to go to this private site and asked for a photo”

You clicked the tab and opened the other conversation for him to see.

“You set a honey trap using a photo of yourself” he looked at you frowning making you blush a deep red. “Don’t hold your breath, he is at a dinner with his wife and daughters”.

As if on cue a picture appeared in the conversation, of Alex with his dress shirt undone. Without permission, you answered back

‘Is that it?’

Two more pictures appeared straight away. The second one with his pants completely down showing off everything. You turned around in your chair and looked at Rafael with his mouth opened and he stormed out of the room towards the lifts, with Nick following having a go at him.

You chased after them both to try and defuse things, but missed them just as Nick jumped in, with the doors closing.

TBC.

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bisexualkiecarrera · 4 years

Text

Just Don’t Call Me Yours

JJ Maybank x Female OC

wordcount: 1.5k+

warnings: just the drugs/drinking expected, a 2 year age gap and mentions of sex

a/n: this is based off the song Stacy by Quinn XCII, which you can listen to here!

JJ Maybank wasn’t always a partier, and he certainly wasn’t always a womanizer. Freshly 15 and naive, JJ wandered into the surf shop on the edge of The Cut on the last Sunday afternoon of summer and bumped right into the person who changed his world. She was the coolest person at Kildare County High. She was younger than most of the other incoming seniors, but her arms and legs were littered with stick and poke tattoos and even though she was smart as hell, most of her teachers didn’t expect to see her in class more than a couple times a week. Everyone knew the spot under the bleachers in front of the 50-yard line belonged to her. When she struck up a conversation with him that day in the surf shop, it took every bit of concentration he had to be able to string a sentence together. It was obvious to everyone within earshot that he was awestruck by her, and she had to admit that she found it kind of endearing. When she casually invited him to meet her at her spot the next day, he nodded a little too eagerly, blond hair bobbing up and down. She laughed right at him, but the sound was so beautiful that he couldn’t find himself to care.

The next day, the fifth period bell rings and JJ all but sprints out the school’s back doors. He wasn’t brave enough to skip out on any class other than lunch and he was all but praying that she’d be there. A wide smile spread across his face as he approached the bleachers. The sight of her white sneakers peeking out underneath felt like a gift from the universe. “Uhh, hey,” JJ managed to stammer out and she turned towards him with a sly smile.

“Hey, Golden Boy. You wanna smoke?” Her delicate fingers hold a lit joint out to him, and he takes it from her without question, even though he’s never smoked a day in his life. As he brings it to his lips, he takes a moment to look at her. Her eyes are barely open and her black polished fingernails are resting gently on her cheek as she watches him. He feels a little awkward as he inhales, not entirely sure what was going to happen. The burn roaring in his chest surprises him and sends him into a coughing fit. She takes the joint back from him as he doubles over and lets out another string of laughter at his expense. He starts to get embarrassed but it's erased by longing as she pulls another drag, speaking through her inhale. “Oh, you’re going to be so much fun to corrupt.”

The next weeks are filled with new experiences for JJ. Cutting actual classes became child’s play for him and in that same spot under the bleachers, she taught him how to shotgun, both beer and weed. The first time her lips touched his, he swore he died and went to heaven. He began to master the art of climbing into windows silently and it was in her bed late at night when he asked her for the first why she never accepted his invitations to hang out with his friends. She turned to him with an amused expression on her face. “Baby, other people can’t really know that we hang out. I’m a senior, don’t you think it’d be weird for me to hang out with a bunch of sophomores?” His face twisted into a frown and she pouted playfully at him. “I’m sorry, J. Let me make it up to you?” She kissed him softly, parting his lips just slightly with the tip of her tongue before moving to kneel between his thighs. He looked up at her questioningly and her smile went from gentle to ravening. She slid her hands up his thighs to his zipper and looked up at him through her lashes. “Put your hands behind your head, Golden boy. I’m going to blow your fucking mind.”

JJ was pretty fucking sure he was in love with her. She’d molded him into an entirely different person than the one he was when he walked into that surf shop just before his sophomore year of high school. His friends didn’t mind the change, excited to finally let loose at parties all together, but they still didn’t know where JJ spent his nights. It was the only argument they ever had, JJ asking her why they couldn’t make things official, saying that he didn’t give a shit what people thought about it. She’d always give him the same line in return. “Labels ruin things, J. I don’t see why it matters if you call me your girlfriend or not. All that matters is that we’re there for each other; middle of the night, rain or shine. You can call me lover, or babe, or whatever the hell else you want. But I don’t want to belong to anyone. I’m not yours, I’m mine.” It upset him the same every time, but all was forgotten when she slipped her fingers into his hair and tugged him to her mouth.

He eventually learned to stop bringing it up, settling into a routine of spending every possible second together in private while almost completely ignoring each other in public. Everyday it seemed like JJ chipped away another piece of the wall she’d built around her heart, talking about both of their shitty relationships with their fathers, sharing their hopes and dreams and darkest fears. Life seemed to only be getting better by the minute, especially after he received a text one Friday in May that read “parents left for the mainland last night, house is empty ;)” right before the bell rang to dismiss him from his last class of the day. He arrived at her doorstep in record time seeing as he ran the mile and a half from school to her house, backpack and all. He barely made it through the front door before she had him backed up against it, hands threading through his hair to pull him down into a kiss. “We’ve got all weekend, my golden boy,” she said through panting breaths. “What do you have planned?”

They spend the weekend tangled in each other and in her sheets but when Sunday comes around, he can feel her pulling away again. The look in her eyes isn’t the same mischievous sparkle he was used to; her smile didn’t curl up all the way into the Chesire cat grin he’d grown to love. And he had grown to love her, he was sure of it. The only thing scarier than telling her was not telling her at all, and so JJ turned his head to the side to look at her, pinkies interlocked between their resting naked bodies. “Hey, babe?” He started and she turned to look at him with a “hmm?” Her eyes roamed his face for a second, taking in all his features. His face had changed since the fall, sharper and more defined. “I love you.” Her eyes closed as she let out a deep breath. She sat up taking the sheet with her, leaving JJ to follow, studying her side profile as she searched for words.

“I know you think you do, J. We’ve gotten so close recently, I can see how it’s confusing for you. But you can’t love me.” She finished her statement and looked up from JJ’s hand that she held in her lap. He pulled it away from her and got up, slipping his boxers on before beginning to pace.

“Yes, I do! How could this be anything other than love? I literally can’t go an hour without wanting to see you, I tell you everything!” He stared at the floor as he walked back and forth, stopping in front of her bed to look at her. She couldn’t meet his eyes, choosing to stare a hole into her wall, face expressionless. “You’ll get it when you’re older, golden boy.”

He stood still for a second, mouth open in shock. He scrambled to gather his stuff, pulling on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and piling things into his bag. She didn’t even contemplate chasing after him as he slipped his shoes on and left out the front door.

The final month of Sophomore year was filled with radio silence. JJ didn’t bother reaching out. He knew there’d be no reply anyway. They continued to ignore each other in public. The only thing that changed from an outsider’s perspective was JJ’s newfound interest in his female classmates. Weekends were now spent at the Boneyard, a nicstick hanging from his lips and a pretty girl hanging from his arm. It was always a different one; it seemed like the girls of Kildare County High made some unspoken pact that every one of them would share JJ and the knowledge that he was the only boy in school who knew what he was doing with his hands.

The only one who didn’t seem to get the memo was a freshmen named Allie with a face full of freckles. When she finally mustered up the courage to ask JJ why they never hung out without hooking up, the only answer JJ could give her was a half-hearted “you’ll get it when you’re older.”

#jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x reader #obx #outer banks #obx netflix #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction

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diddlesanddoodles · 4 years

Text

DUMPLING ch 50

“Wait! You’re Bumbling Bertol?” Jae exclaimed dubiously, in far too loud a voice. A moment of clarity seemed to overtake him, and he cleared his throat. “I mean… uh. Sorry. Bertol. So, uh… you’re Bertol then, huh?”

The giant did not appear to take any real offense at the mocking moniker and merely regarded Jae with an easy stare.

“I used to be. That name… well, I cannot say I did not earn it,” he explained with a resigned sigh. An air of wistful regret came over him as he stared passed them. “I was a pathetic creature in my younger days. I went from hamlet to hamlet, village to village, selling my talents for whatever coin or bauble they saw fit to give me. I sold predictions, but nothing too grand. Not in those days, at least. Ordinary folks only wish to know ordinary things.”

He plucked up three apples and tossed them into his mouth. “The housewife wants to know if she’ll bear a son, the poor farmer wishes to know if the year’s crop will be bountiful, and the young maid aches to know the name of the man whom she will wed.” He sighed in frustration and his expression became bitter.

“Simple questions that should have simple answers. But life is far more complicated and twice as cruel. The housewife will have her son, but he will die of pneumonia at too young an age. The farmer’s harvest will be plentiful, but it will be his last before a heart attack strikes him down. The young maid learns the name of her beloved only to find he is fifteen years her senior and a foul drunkard.” Bertol took up another apple and rolled it idly between his fingers. “Such dire predictions. They grind against your soul after so long. I grew weary of seeing the doom ahead of so many people. So I took solace in herbal concoctions and alcohol spirits. I became the man they called Bumbling Bertol. Truthfully, I don’t recall much of those days. I don’t remember a good many of the predictions now credited to my name. Most of them are silly anyway.”

“How did you meet Ellis?” Haiyer asked, his eyes alight with intrigue. The little boy had taken up a spot near Bertol’s knee and was listening with rapt attention, despite the morose subject matter.

“It shames me to say that I don’t quite remember how or where I met her,” he admitted, shifting in his seat and running a hand down his beard. “I was drunk. I know that much. And that she watched over me while I was passed out in a gutter somewhere. She claims that in my wretched inebriated state I called her beautiful and that was why she took pity on me. But I know that is a lie. Fairies are notoriously voyeuristic and mischievous. And I suppose in that state I was quite a humorous thing to behold. In all truthfulness, she was probably bored and looking for some fun. But after I had sobered up, she still stayed with me. She would watch me as I made my predictions, drank myself stupid afterwards, and spent the following hours or days wandering around like fool.”

As he spoke of his fairy companion, Bertol’s dour expression softened and a smile came to his lips. He turned to look down at Haiyer. “She watched over me. Much in the way she looks after you, little one.”

He gestured to the little boy. “She did that for me. Then she began to teach me things about magic, things I never knew. About how my gift of foresight could be harnessed to see beyond merely the terrible. My predictions began to change the more I learned from her. I began to see the good and less and less of the bad. The promise of new horizons stretched on before me and I needed the bottle less and less. For a small amount of time, I was quite content.”

“So then,” Jae pressed, biting into his apple, “where does the Gold Prophecy come into play?”

Nenani ran her fingers across one of her apples as her heart raced. She was all too familiar with the Gold Prophecy, and while many of the people who spoke of it did so with a mockingly or dismissively, it always left her feeling ill. Those were the words that echoed in her dreams, that were spoken by centuries-dead mages deep within the Vhasshalan catacombs, and most worrying of all they were the very words Aidus spoke the day she first met him face to face.

Those words were a curse.

At Jae’s question, all warmth left Bertol’s face. His expression soured and the giant snorted derisively. “That damn prophecy. It has caused me nothing but misfortune from the day those accursed words left my lips.”

“Do you…” Nenani began, feeling an uneasiness in her belly. Her mind drifted to the catacombs within the Vhasshalan keep and to the skeleton mage. She rested a hand against the fire opal on her belt. “What is it really about? The prophecy?”

“Who knows,” he grunted. “I speak the words as they come to me. I am not omnipotent.”

“Ah, come on!” Jae whined, clearly dissatisfied with his answer. “That’s bullshit! It’s gotta be about someone.”

Bertol glared at the young man and leaned towards him.

“And you think it is about the King do you?” he asked with a sneer.

“Well, a lot of people do,” Jae replied defensively. Meeting Bertol’s eye, he steeled himself and nodded firmly. “So yes. I do think it’s about Warren.”

Bertol glare darkened. “You are hardly the first to ask me the meaning of those words or to believe them to be about one person or another. Many came to me to ask if those words foretold their rise to power. And like you, they did not care for my answer. Some tried to force me to declare that it was always about them and, when I would not, I would be beaten or imprisoned.” A sly grin crossed his face. “So Ellis taught me a useful trick for escaping such circumstances and I am not ashamed to say I have become quite good at it. I became a wanted man.”

He sat back up and gave a half shrug. “And so we went into hiding. I became something of a hermit and avoided people at all cost. I found life in the mountains away from people quite suited me. That was until the war spoiled everything.”

“The war?” Haiyer asked.

“We were able to distance ourselves from the worst of it,” Bertol continued. “Until one day we came upon the aftermath of a battle along the Deahil Nenani river.” His eyes drifted to Nenani and seemed to size her up. “The very river you’re named for.”

“Riftside,” Jae supplied. “That was the battle of Riftside. Warren’s brother died there. Prince Mourin.”

Bertol grunted as he waved the anecdote away. “A corpse with a crown on its head is still a corpse, boy. And believe me, there were many of them. Human and Vhasshalan alike. Further down river from the battle’s center is where Ellis found him, a Silvaaran mage. He was gravely injured, but alive.” Bertol paused and for several long moments did not say a word. He appeared to Nenani as though he were replaying the events in his mind and he did not look pleased at all. “Ellis convinced me that we should save him. So I pulled the man from the water and tried to dress his wounds as best I was able. Ellis was dissatisfied with my quality of care and decided to use her stone.”

“Stone?” Nenani asked. “What kind of stone?”

“A stone of power, a ruby. It was a dear treasure to her and not a gift she so easily bestowed upon others. She used it to heal him.”

“Stones of power can do that?” Nenani asked, looking down at her opal.

“Not the stone itself,” Bertol replied, reaching into his bag and pulling out a red river rock. He turned it idly through his fingers. “The magic infused within is the healing catalyst as the stone is merely a vessel. Fae magic is wild and can be amazingly powerful when wielded in the proper way. Horrendously destructive if misused.” He tossed the stone into the air and caught it with his other hand. “The mage was healed and saved and he was very grateful of course. But as I was a giant, I made him nervous. I attempted to calm his fears and, not much to my surprise, he had heard of me. And he had heard my prophecies., including the one that would become known as the Gold Prophecy. Like so many before, he was very interested in that one. A little too interested for my liking, so I left Ellis to it. She likes to make pets of mortals every now and again. I thought she would do the same with this one.” He shook his head as he glared out into open space. “He attacked her while I was away. Stole her ruby and tried to absorb all that magic it had soaked in over hundreds of years. The fool.”

Nenani ran her fingers over the opal set inside her belt, trying to imagine what hundreds of years of built up magic would feel like. Extremely unpleasant, she was sure.

“It should have killed him, trying to take in all that magic,” Bertol continued. “His aura turned black and his body began to flake apart like ash. But he somehow held himself together, though he was nothing but smoke and cinders and… I don’t think you could rightly call him human after that. Both Ellis and I tried to get the ruby back, but we were not a match for him as he was. I was lucky to have survived and without her stone she could not heal me. The smoke mage disappeared with the ruby and Ellis and I retreated into the hills to lick our wounds.”

“Aidus,” Nenani declared. Her hands rested in her lap, clutching hard enough to turn her knuckles white. “The mage you’re talking about. That was Aidus, wasn’t it?”

“I learned his name much later,” Bertol explained.,“when Ellis found him again after a long search. You must understand, without her stone she was no longer permitted to return to her home realm as it was considered a Fae relic. To return home, she would have to get her ruby back. But in the end it did not matter as her other crimes came to light. Her fellows discovered that she had taught me Fae secrets and that was the reason she was banished.”

He tossed a few more apples into his mouth and was silent as he chewed. “There is nothing like the vengeance of a Fae being. She wanted that mage’s blood. It did not matter that it was I that got her banished. She blamed the mage all the same. I’m not sure what she was planning to do once she had found him. He could and would kill her. Fae can live on forever, but that doesn’t mean they cannot be killed. They are not gods, no matter how much they may act as though they are. But when she did find him, she also found something else. Or rather… someone.”

He regarded Haiyer with a pointed look. “A baby.”

Haiyer pointed at himself, grinning wide. “Me?”

“Yes,” he said with a small smile. “You. It seemed as though the moment she found you, all thought of revenge dissipated. She said you had faint traces of green in you and that you needed protection, so she would watch over you.”

“Green?” Jae asked. “What does that mean?”

Bertol rolled his eyes. “Green. As in the forest. Nature. A green mage.”

Jae glanced at Haiyer and then back at Bertol with a heavily dubious expression. “…green mages? You think… Haiyer’s a green mage?”

“Not so much me,” Bertol replied. “Ellis. It’s what drew her to him. She claimed he was an unbloomed green mage. A rare thing these days and, to the Fae, a precious one.”

“Why would him supposedly being a green mage make her drawn to him?”

“Green mages are supposedly descended from the Fae.”

Jae blinked and then laughed loudly. Through his chortling, he asked “…are you saying Haiyer’s part fairy?”

“No,” Bertol growled. “Green mages are said to have once been descendants of Fae, but they are absolutely human. It’s their connection to the earth that attracts Fae to them. Same way dragons are drawn to fire mages or sea serpents to water mages. They share a common element, their primal sources are the same, and so one will attract the other.”

“And like fairies,” Jae shot back, “green mages are supposed to be nothing but children’s stories.”

“And like the Fae, green mages like to keep hidden and to themselves,” the giant retorted. He glanced up at Nenani and smirked. “The exact opposite of fire mages. Flashy blowhards.”

“Hey!” Nenani barked with a mouth full of apple.

“When she found this one as a babe,” Bertol continued, tapping Haiyer on the head, “she tried to take him back with her, away from Aidus’s clutches. But there was some sort of barrier that would not let her pass through with him. It seemed that Aidus had sensed her peeking about and had made precautions against her meddling. So she settled for watching. But when his mother finally escaped, Ellis was able to better help them, steering them towards clean water, away from poisonous plants. Once they were safe in Vhasshal, I thought her watch over the boy would end. But then the last time she went to visit him… she never returned.”

Nenani recalled back to her first magic lesson and how Maevis had suddenly pulled something invisible from the air and sealed it into a jar. For weeks now she had been harboring a slight suspicion of what was really inside that jar, but now there was no doubt.

“That was Maevis,” Nenani said, casting an apologetic sidelong glance at Jae. “He… he thought it was Aidus snooping around.”

“And so she has sat in that same jar ever since,” Bertol said with a sneer as he balled his hands into tight fists. “That damn magician…”

“Hey!” Jae snapped, pointing a warning finger at the giant. “Maevis is my good friend, and if I hear you say one nasty thing about him I’ll—”

Bertol laughed, cutting off whatever Jae may have said, and leaned into the boy’s space. Jae fumbled back with a start.

“You’ll what?” Bertol demanded. “Just because the King has made you a prince does mean that you possess any real power. You are still my prisoner and a human. And not even a mage at that. So don’t throw around commands as though anyone would listen.”

“Hey,” Jae said, squaring his shoulders. “Just because—”

“Your value is only that which the King has placed upon you,” Bertol said, cutting Jae off again.

The boy glared as his face colored in frustration and embarrassment. “Well… technically speaking I’m not a prince yet.”

Bertol waved a dismissive hand at him as he pulled away. “Close enough for my purposes. You could be as common as a mushroom so long you’re valued by the one in power.”

Jae frowned at the giant and looked up at Nenani.

“I think he just called me a mushroom,” he said. But when she did not respond or even acknowledge him, he grew concerned. It was then that he noticed that her hands were glowing. “Nenani?”

“I’m just wondering,” she said at last, staring off into space. “How different everything would be if… if you and Ellis hadn’t saved him. If you just let him die there.” A pause. “Papa would still be alive…”

Jae didn’t have an answer for her and he looked over to Bertol, a question in his eyes. In turn, the giant stared at the bubbled girl, but his face revealed nothing.

“It is useless to dream of what could have been or to mourn what never was,” he said at last. “The truth is both Ellis and I made a mistake that day. One I imagined cost many lives and much sorrow.”

“Do you feel guilty though? Even a little?” she asked, looking him in the eye. Her magic surged with every beat of her heart, and she could not keep from thinking of all the years she would have had with her father if it hadn’t been for the actions of the giant before her. And his fairy. Right then, she did not care that Ellis had protected her brother all those years. If Aidus had just died at Riftside, her father would be alive and her mother would have never been taken. Haiyer would have been born in the Southlands and uncle Halden would have not been killed. The fire would have never burned the fishing fleet. She would have her family. They would be safe and alive and whole and together.

Bertol just stared at her. “What use would my guilt be?”

His words were incendiary and the ever present fire deep within her began to rage and burn with an unbridled fury.

“But it’s your fault,” she told him. The anger within her surged like a pot boiling over and the glow of her hands began to spread up her arms and chest. It traveled up her neck and across her face and her eyes began to glow.

“N-Nenani?”

“Calm down,” Bertol snorted, reaching out and cupping the bubble between his hands. “There isn’t anything—”

“It’s your fault!” she yelled over him. The bubble filled with fire as she cried out and then abruptly it was gone. The shock of sudden weightlessness extinguished the worst of her flames and she dropped, only to fall into Bertol’s hands. Before she could recover enough to recall her anger, his fingers wrapped around her and held her firmly. His fingers began to glow a bright yellow that contrasted starkly against the angry orange and red of her fire.

“Now that is enough!” he said in a booming voice. His large face loomed above her and his eyes narrowed. “It’s generally ill-advised to be lighting fires within a small and enclosed space. Much like fire, people need to breathe air to live and without it they have the annoying habit of suffocating.”

She glared at him, trying to summon her fire again, but found it oddly difficult. Her arms were trembling, and no matter how deep she tried to reach inside to pull it out, she found her magic weakened and drained away. Looking at the glowing hands around her, she panted with sudden exhaustion. “W-what… what are you… doing… to me?”

“Keeping your flames down,” he growled. “Until you’ve calmed yourself.”

“You can’t do that!” Jae barked. He ran to the giant’s side and grabbed onto his vest, pulling with all his might. “Put her down! NOW!”

“Stop that,” Bertol snapped at him. “I can do as I please. Or have you forgotten you are my prisoners?”

A half-eaten apple struck the giant’s temple and he jerked his furious gaze down at Haiyer as the boy picked up another apple. “Leave my sister alone!”

“If you all don’t stop this right now,” Bertol growled, shifting his gaze between Haiyer and Jae, “I will bubble all of you!”

“Ellis said you were nice!” Haiyer cried as he threw another apple that struck the giant’s shoulder. “But you’re not at all! You’re mean. You’re an arse!”

Nenani renewed her struggles and tried to kick at the giant’s wrists. “And you smell really bad!”

“ENOUGH!” the giant cried, the sound echoing loudly in Nenani’s ears. His hands disappeared from around her, but instead of falling to the ground, she fell back against the now familiar walls of a bubble. Below her, she saw Haiyer and Jae both in bubbles of their own. Bertol got to his feet and stared at the three of them with fury as he tried to catch his breath.

“You will be quiet and meek as mice for the remainder of our time together,” he told them in a low and firm voice. “And then once Ellis is returned to me you will be someone else’s problem.”

Nenani was still too drained to attempt another escape and only wished she’d been re-bubbled with her blankets. Without their cushioning buffer, the bubble was quite uncomfortable.

“Um,” Haiyer spoke up hesitantly and shifted oddly within his confinement, “…I have to pee.”

Bertol glared daggers at the small boy. “Too bad.”

“But—”

“I said,” Bertol began, his face hard, “too ba—”

“BERTOL!” bellowed a voice from outside the tent, drowning out the giant’s words and startling all four of them. Nenani perked up with a grin.

“Farris?” She said with a hopeful voice and looked towards the open tent flap in hopes of catching a glimpse of him. Bertol’s gaze followed and his frown deepened.

“YE BETTER BE GETTING’ YER MOLDY OL’ ARSE OUT HERE NOW YE FUCKER!”

“Oh yeah,” Jae agreed with a grin of his own. “That’s Farris.”

With his eyes still fixed upon the tent’s opening, Bertol raised his hand and, in unison, all three of the bubbled humans rose as well. They followed after him as he left the tent, floating along as though pulled by invisible leads.

Once outside, Nenani was finally able to see exactly where they had been brought. Far off in the distance she could see snow-peaked mountains and below that a wide grassy valley of low sloping hills and sparse copses of trees. A heavy,frigid mist blanketed the ground, and as Bertol stepped out his bare feet made low crunching sounds against the frozen grass. Despite all the evidence pointing to the morning being especially chilly, Nenani did not feel cold at all. Thinking back, she realized with some confusion that she had been perfectly warm the entire time and yet there had been no fire to guard them against the morning frost.

Several yards outside the copse of trees where Bertol had pitched his tent stood Farris and Keral. Farris had exchanged his white apron for a long brown overcoat while Keral was dressed in his ranger’s uniform. In his hands he held a lantern that appeared very similar to the ones Maevis had created for the detection of Aidus’s magic. It was glowing and the sight gave Nenani pause, but she realized with relief that the light was the wrong color. The lantern glowed with a warm golden light rather than the pale violet of the warning beacons. As she studied it, Nenani could make out the shape of a person within and she blinked. Ellis, she realized. That was Ellis.

“If yer wantin’ yer damn fairy back,” Keral called out to Bertol. His voice was nowhere near as loud as Farris, but still managed to sound equally as cross. “Ye better hand over the lil’uns. Now.”

Bertol stopped at the edge of his camp to face the brothers with a hard glare. “You’re more than welcome to take them back. I’ll be glad of it,” he said. “As soon as ye release Ellis to me, that is.”

BONUS ART

#DUMPLING #G/t story #g/t #Giant/tiny #fantasy giant #Nenani #Jae #Haiyer #Bertol #Aidus

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deltastorm101 · 3 years

Text

So, I tried to calculate Control...

... and its Epic Games deal, with the help of my certified smooth brain™ and probably incorrect sources. I started this last night hella tired and with a headache, I have finished it up today hella tired and with a headache, and this is what I produced: bullshit! :D But hey, at least double checked bullshit that’s open for discussion and contribution and expansion. Also, I probably won’t list the sources because a) I’m lazy and b) I didn’t have to dig thaaat deep down to find all this so if you really wanna know you could probably hit google with it as well. Anyhow here we go lol So, the initial thought which got all of this rolling was the 2020-wrap-up-post Remedy linked on their twitter, and Epic’s linked publishing announcement in it: studios Remedy, Playdead and GenDesign will release their next next-gen games with Epic. Now, we all know Remedy are working on some sort of Alan Wake-ish thing as we speak (right? right?? god I hope so), which meanssss our boy will most likely be an Epic exclusive. Which makes me kinda sad because, well. I’m deep in Steam’s ass. Hell, I waited for Control for a full year before I played it because they can pry the Steam version from my cold dead hands. So I asked myself... was it worth it for them? How much money did they throw at Remedy (and 505 Games) to have them play along? Would they have reached more people from the get-go if they had released it on Steam right away? Did the individual programmer, designer, writer, artist, person behind it profit from this at all? (Also, like, about the rights and copyright thing,,,,, you’d think they could have learned from Alan Wake and its IP belonging to Microsoft and so not really being able to do anything more with it because they don’t ‘own’ it and shit) buuut anyway that’s not the point of this post, now it’s time to do some MATH BABEY

Ok, let’s start with some things we know. Facts. Figures. Data. Turns out my initial question, how much money was involved, could be answered by doing one (1) google search: according to Wikipedia, Epic gave Remedy and 505 Games €9.49mio. The total budget for the game was €26.9mio over the course of 3 years of development. We know that as of December 2020, over 2mio copies of the game were sold, with November 2020 being the best-selling month ever since its initial release in August 2019. This is where question 1) comes into play: how many of those 2 million copies were sold in 2019 and how many in 2020? Stay tuned, I think I found out.

We know that Remedy gets to keep 45% of the revenue, which, I assumed, means that 505 keeps the remaining 55% (probably a lot more going on there but shhh). We know that Control’s sales cooked up €17.84mio in 2019 (so months September – December), €17.7mio of those in the first month alone (O.O). Side note: because it came out at the very end of August, I’ll ignore that month and declare September the first sales month.

We know that 60% of sales in 2019 were digital ones (aka Epic Store, mostly), 40% physical ones (consoles PS4 and XB1), while in 2020, only 10% of sales were physical and a whopping 90% digital; which is people on Epic who wanted to get their hands on the first DLC and – you guessed it – the Steam release of the Ultimate Edition in August 2020.

Which begs question 2): what’s bigger, 60% of 2019 sales because ‘ooh shiny new game’, or 90% of 2020 sales because ‘yay steam release’? The answer may look obvious, but you have to take into account the dropping price, which I also researched for your pleasure and enjoyment.

For this I used a German website called idealo.de, which focuses on looking for the best deals for basically anything you can buy on the internet, and it also gives you diagrams that describe at which point in time the product was at which exact price. This is what it gave me: - release price: €60 - December 2019: €41 (PS4)/€44 (XB1) - mid-2020: €30 - Ultimate Edition release: €30 - December 2020: €14 (PS4)/€18 (XB1)/€30 (Ultimate Editions) At this point I was like “lol hold on i need chocolate for this cuz i’ll be here for some time *sweating*”

To continue this mess™, I see more questions: 3) How many employees does Remedy have, which positions do they work in and what are their salaries? 4) How many employees does 505 have, which positions and salaries do they have? 5) What’s the total revenue that Control has generated so far?

And also some more stuff like, are my numbers accurate, am I even grasping these concepts correctly, are there even more people involved or am I just trying to explain complete crap (yes) but let’s just ignore all of that shall we. At that point I went “oh shit what have i gotten myself into, this screen does not get my point across, i need pen and paper” and you know shit is gonna go DOWN when I do math on paper.

My paper math birthed the following calculation:

Following this up, we can calculate the end-of-2019 sales, if we set the price for September and October to €60, for November and December to approx. €45:

Now, you might notice that one of those numbers is big and the other is HUGE. Why might that be? Well...

- Covid19: everyone stayed at home and needed video games to play - More sale months of the year, naturally - dropping price: why get it for €60 when you can get it for 20 - Ultimate Edition: why buy it in June when you get more content in August aaaand... - it comes out on Steam.

With this in mind, let’s see what questions we can answer: 1) 661,110 copies in 2019; 1,338,889 copies in 2020 2) 60% digital sales in 2019 means 396,666 Epic copies; 90% digital sales in 2020 means 1,205,000 copies – most of it from Steam? Some of it? A good chunk? The bigger chunk? There’s no way of really knowing for sure but... you could read this into it. I definitely am. 3) Google told me Remedy had a little over 250 employees at the end of 2019... 4) ... and 505 has less than 100. I found no good sources for this, I think linkedin said 37, someone else said 50. I’ll just use the 50 figure, idk. No idea man. and for 5) I’ll contradict my point that the Steam release is what knocked the sales out of the park and assume that the number of sold copies stayed the same across all 12 months of 2020, which gives us this:

Ok and now we’re getting into the most dangerous of danger zones because I have no idea how companies or capitalism work, so for educated people™, the remaining calculations might read like a toddler wrote them; I apologize profusely and hereby present last night’s brain vomit:

As stated earlier, development took 3 years, but everyone wanted to get paid in 2020 as well so let’s use 4 years to find out the salaries, which is 48 months. Let’s assume the utopian idea that every employee on the line here gets the exact same amount of money (LOL ikr but shhhh, let’s live out our dirtiest equality fantasies for a second ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)). Which would mean...

And now without the Epic Deal™:

Quod erat demonstrandum. Remedy has been selling their souls to Epic for €350 a month since 2017. (I don’t mean this as maliciously as I’m making it sound, don’t worry xD)

OKAY SO, O B V I O U S L Y, I have not the slightest idea what on earth I’m talking about so read this like you’d read a good fanfiction. We don’t know the different salaries across the different positions (and genders HAH), we don’t know if other parties were involved, I’ve completely ignored the sum that Epic themselves get, I have ignored taxes, I don’t know if my numbers are accurate (they’re definitely not I mean 505 must have more employees than 50), if I made mistakes (yes), and also somewhere along the way I forgot to use the €26.9mio budget figure because, uuh, I have no idea where to use it, what it means, where did it come from, where did it go, cotton eye joe - but oh well, I’m not starting over, take it or leave it.

So... I can now officially say I have written hot steamy economics fic xD Man I put waaay too much time into this but damn was it fun. Good three-hour-deep-dive (two of them spent munching on chocolate half-asleep listening to psytrance to keep my brain twitchy). Real-life-theorizing. Fuck capitalism. Don’t do drugs. Pet a cat. Wear your mask. Call your grandparents.

If there’s typos in this I’m sorry but also I’m not, I can’t be bothered to proofread again lol. Goodnight imma catch up on the sleep I lost. Gotta love full moons

#this is the first post in ages in which i used punctuation and capitalization are you proud of me xD #dw it won’t stay like this #control #control remedy #alan wake #ok now go yell at me how stupidly wrong and dumb this is i’m ready #do you think my old math teacher would be proud #i think so #my economics teacher... not so much

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boyy-wonder-grayson · 4 years

Text

Winter's Weather // Dick Grayson Au!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Warnings: nothing other than some swearing and maybe a little angst if you squint (?)

A/n: chapter 2 it's finally here!! I don't know how to feel about this since I've hit writers block quite a few times while writing this,I wanted to make it longer than the first one, which it is, but I don't know. Sorry about the moodboards they're easy and fun to do, so I'll probably do more lmao. Thanks for reading and feedback is always appreciated :) anyway enjoy!!

The first night at her father’s cabin was spent reminiscing of all the times she has been there when her family was complete. Her father was a fisherman, so he usually would wake the girls up and take them to the lake to teach them how to fish. Y/n was quite good at it, her sister Remy on the other hand was not kin of the early activities her father would take them to. Y/n found her father’s old fishing roads at the back of the house; she’d probably end up selling them or donating them to the local shop back in town. It wasn’t as easy as she thought it would be. It’s been five years since her father had passed and the wound was still fresh; her father had been her best friend through life. He was a kind man with a wicked sense of humor, he was the backbone of their family, so when he passed it was harder and harder to go back home to her mother who apparently didn’t took him long to find someone else to spend the rest of her life with. That was something Y/n wasn’t happy about; is not that she didn’t want for her mother to be happy, on the contrary, it was that her father’s death was still very much fresh on her mind and she was not ready to move on from that just yet. That was part of the reason why she moved back to his old cabin; to make peace with his death, and try to live a happy life just like her father had wanted for her.

So far she wasn’t doing a good job at it.

In the mess that her father had left on the basement of the house she found more and more stuff that belonged to him and it was hard for her no to cry; being surrounded by her father’s presence was something she wasn’t quite ready to do apparently. She found his old camera inside of a box. The box was filled with Polaroid’s of her, some with her sister and her mother and some of the house. His father was an amateur photographer and that camera was a gift from her in his 50’s birthday. He loved It so much that he took it everywhere with him. He used to say that a picture could tell a better story than words could muster, which it used to annoy her given that she was a writer; writing was her life and for her father to say something like that would make her roll her eyes, but now looking at the photographs she realized he was right. There he was smiling at the camera hugging her closer to his body, laughing because he was squeezing her so hard that her face could barely be seen, nevertheless her sister took the picture. She sniffed looking around and drying her tears, it was going to be harder than she thought. She grabbed the box and the camera and took them upstairs with her, promising that tomorrow she would organize everything and would set her life in motion. After all she would do it for her father, if not for her.

----------------------

It was seven a.m. when she heard a knock on her door and groaned, hoping that whoever was brave enough to disrupt her sleep would just go away, but of course she wasn’t that lucky. The knocking intensified until she threw the covers of her bed and shivered when the cold morning air hit her warm body. Apparently sleeping with a short sleeved shirt and some shorts wasn’t a good idea in winter. She opened the door without looking who it was; she was already in a bad mood, one: because who the hell comes all the way to the middle of the woods to wake someone up at the crack of dawn –overdramatic as always—and two: nobody knew she was back in town so who the hell was banging on her door so early? Her question was quickly answered when she was face to face with non-other that the annoying man from yesterday.

“What are you doing here?” she asked confused “and so early in the morning” she added bitterly trying her hardest to show her distaste of his visit.

“Good morning to you too” the guy replied sarcastically. “Like I told you yesterday, your father put me in charge of his place and since you’re here now, and since I’m sure you’re not aware of how a cabin is run, I thought I’d explain to you, so you don’t tear this place down” he said smiling at her now, showing a cute smile that made her stomach turn but not in a good way. He was cocky and she didn’t like that. Not that much at least.

“Is it necessary that you come here at 7 a.m. to do this?” she asked through gritted teeth. She couldn’t believe the audacity of this man.

“Yes, because unlike you I can’t lose my time with people who decided to come live in a cabin in the middle of the woods because her life in the big city wasn’t working for her” he said dryly, almost as if he was angry about it. Y/n was taken aback with his response and look at him in disbelief, partly because of how quickly his playful and cocky attitude changed to a more serious and dark one, and partly because he was right about her reason for coming back to Mystic so suddenly. It was true that her life in the city was not going well and she thought some fresh air from the small town that saw her grow would be a good change, but she wasn’t going to give this stranger man the satisfaction of knowing he was right. He was so right.

“Excuse me Mr. Grinch” she said, earning a glare from the boy. “I don’t need you here. I’ve spent years in this cabin; I know exactly how to keep this place running okay? So you can go now and steal Christmas or whatever that Grinch’s like you do” she said turning around leaving the boy standing at the door. It was her second day back in town and she was already infuriated with this man. Who the hell does he think he is to talk to her like that?

The man on the other hand was fuming; he didn’t like her attitude, and he certainly didn’t like to be compared to one of the most famous grumps in the world, especially by someone who didn’t even know him. He had his reasons to be that way, to be guarded against everyone and everything; that was at least his justification for his shitty attitude, but Y/n was not going to put up with that.

“Listen city girl, I’m not here to discuss how you should or should not do, your father gave me explicit instructions to keep this place intact, and unlike you, I plan to follow them” he said walking closer to the girl. Y/n was angry now. She didn’t even have her morning coffee and she was already arguing with a man, her morning could not be better. Before she could start spewing insults at the boy he started talking again.

“Do you know how much firewood you need to survive the winter? Because no offense but I don’t think chopping wood is one of your strong suits. Or do you know how to properly clean and dry the wood? Or do you know what kind of stain you need to use in this particular house? I’m sure you do right, since you’ve always came here?” he asked question after question making the girl fell smaller with each one. It was true that she didn’t know much about what it took to keep cabin running, but she was stubborn as hell and was not going to back down from an argument, not when her pride was on the line.

“I don’t need some lumberjack wannabe to tell me how to take care of my house, I can always talk to someone else, or hire someone to the maintenance for me” she replied smugly, enjoying the way his face contorted with each word she said. He scoffed and ran a hand through his hair trying to calm himself down, it wasn’t ideal that he was stubborn as hell too. Their personalities collided and no one was going to back down if that meant admitting they were wrong.

“Your father asked me to take care of this place, and I will do it whether you like it or not” he said looking straight into her eyes. She would be a big fat liar if she said that his stare wasn’t doing things to her. Her stomach twisted and her heartbeat accelerated looking at the man in front of her. He was hot and handsome as hell, his brown eyes became darker the more frustrated he got and she imagined herself in a different situation with those brown eyes staring at her with such intensity. She quickly shook her head to get rid of such sinful thoughts and cleared her throat trying to come remember what he said last.

The brown eyed boy wasn’t too different from her. His eyes darted towards her chest, he noticed she wasn’t wearing a bra and the cold air of the morning made her nipples hard, but she was too engrossed trying arguing with him to notice. But he did notice my god. He removed his eyes quickly from her chest and the next thing he noticed was her long legs; he imagined himself in a different situation where her legs would be wrapped around his waist. He shook his head gently removing those thoughts from his head, hopefully she wouldn’t have noticed the way he was checking her out. She didn’t, but she did ask him a question.

“What?” he said feeling stupid for thinking about taking the woman in front of him against the nearest wall, instead of listening to her.

“I asked what your name is, or should I call you Grinch?” she asked with amusement dancing in her eyes.

“I’m Richard, but everyone just calls me Dick.”

------

The following day Y/n woke up early that day with the intention of doing some work around the house. She wasn’t sure yet what would happen to the cabin; she thought about selling the place once she finished with the maintenance and some remodeling. A cabin in the woods would give her some good money; but detaching herself from the house where she spent half her childhood and teenage years was hard.

She still had time though. She was taking some time away from the city so spending time away from everyone and being on her own would do her good. Or at least that was what she said to herself. She decided after having her second breakfast –which consisted of some coffee—that she needed some groceries if she was going to spend the winter in the woods. The stores weren’t so far from the cabin so she grabbed her wallet, keys and wrapped herself in her warmest clothes to go out and face the winter of Connecticut. She made it into town in twenty minutes. It was snowing slightly when she got out of the car, she had park just in front of Mrs. Bradley old market. That place was already when she was a kid and apparently was still standing strong. Mrs. Bradley was the nicest woman she had ever met, the woman would always sneak a candy or two for her and her sister when they were shopping with her dad, her mother didn’t like that and scoffed whenever that happened but Mrs. Bradley would pay no mind and do it whenever she could. The bell atop of the door dinged when she entered the shop, making the old woman lift her gaze and when she recognized a smile stretched across her lips.

“Y/n! Oh look at you!” the old woman beamed at her making her smile even bigger. The woman moved from her spot behind the register to hug the girl, which the later reciprocated with as much enthusiasm as the woman.

“You look so beautiful; look how much you’ve grown!”

“Thanks Mrs. Bradley you’re looking good too, didn’t age a day.”

“Lucky for you flattery would get you everywhere with me” the woman said, making the girl laugh. One thing she loved about this town was the people. Most of the town had seen her grow from a little kid to the woman she is today. She had a special place for everyone in this town, especially Mrs. Bradley, she was like the grandmother she never had.

“Well lucky me then” she said giggling with the old woman.

“I haven’t seen you in what? Five years? ” Mrs. Bradley asked rubbing her hands along her arms in a comforting manner “I’m sorry about your father, we were all very sad to hear that he was gone, I can’t imagine how you must’ve felt. You were so closed” she said smiling sadly.

“Thanks, and yeah it was…hard, that’s why it took me so long to come back here” she admitted; it was easy for her to talk to this woman, easier than with her mother for sure.

“I know sweetie, I know. But you’re here now, and that’s what matters.” She was so grateful to have someone like her that she could confide in about pretty much everything.

“Yeah, and I’ll be around for a long time I think,” she confessed. The old woman hugged her once again and professed how happy she was that she had decided to stick around for a while promising that they would have a chat whenever she was free. The girl nodded excited to finally be back somewhere where she felt comfortable enough to call it home. She apologized to the customer that was waiting for the women to finish chatting and made her way to the back of the store to get some groceries. She was halfway done with every item on her list when she found herself in front of the cereal aisle; she scanned the shelf looking for her favorite brand, she smiled triumphantly when she found the last box at the top of the shelf. She stood on her tiptoes trying to reach the box before someone snatched it out of her grasp. Her head snapped quickly to find the body attached to the hand that took the last box of cereal and of course it had to be no other than Dick.

“Give it back” she said, already annoyed by her presence. Dick looked down at her acknowledging her presence and chuckled when he saw her frowning like a child.

“No” he said, trying hard not to laugh at her expression. Her mouth was slightly open, her brows were furrowed and he knew she was ready to retaliate.

“I saw it first, I even grabbed it first before you literally took it out of my hands” she explained “So technically it’s mine” she said crossing her arms across her chest.

“Technically it’s in my basket, so it’s mine,” he said. He would never admit it but as much as he was annoyed by her, he still enjoyed pissing her off.

“You stole it! So give it back now” she reached a hand waiting for him to return her cereal.

“Nop” he said and turned around leaving her with her mouth open. She was trying to think of a good comeback but dick was halfway across the store by then.

“At least he does justice to his name” Y/n said grabbing a different box of cereal, sighing she continued her shopping hoping not to bump into Dick for the rest of the day.

--------------------

Dick’s phone rang the second he sat inside his car. He sighed when he saw the name on the screen.

“Bruce” he said coldly. He wasn’t in the mood for a lecture now; he had shit to do other than to listen to what his dad had to say.

“Son, how are you? I wasn’t sure if you were going to answer the phone” Bruce said making Dick roll his eyes and his passive-aggressiveness.

“Yeah, well I did. Can I help you with something?” he was already stressed about this whole thing. He moved from Gotham to avoid everything and everyone; but apparently Gotham did not move on from him.

“Not really I was just checking on you, since you don’t seem to call much these days” Bruce said sounding a little…sad. Dick felt a pang in his chest. Guilt. He knew Bruce was not doing this on purpose, despite everything he loved his dad and Bruce loved him too, but being reminded every week or two how he seemed to forget about his family stung.

“I know, and I’m sorry it’s just…it’s still hard,” Dick confessed over the phone. He heard Bruce sighing on the other line.

“I know kid, I know it’s hard. But I thought moving there was supposed to do good to you. What happened?”

“Nothing happened that’s the thing” he said not making much sense “Nothing happened. Things just stayed the same as it was back in Gotham and I honestly don’t know what I was expecting when I moved out here. I guess I’m just mad that my feelings didn’t change after all the time I spent here” he pinched the bridge of his nose; he didn’t know why was he saying all this now, he spent so much time lying to himself and his father about being okay and now the words came out of his mouth like a damn breaking after holding the water for far too long.

“Look Dick, I know you don’t like when I give you advice but listen to me son” Bruce said in a serious tone “Things won’t change unless you make them change. Moving out was just the first step, maybe it was a good one or maybe not. But things won’t be different because you don’t want them to be different. Starting over is a big step in life, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a bad one. You need to start thinking less and start acting more.”

As much as Dick hated to admit it, Bruce was right. He wondered many times if the only reason why he wasn’t moving out in life was because he was subconsciously sabotaging his own life; and the answer was yes. He had many opportunities to forget about her and find someone new to help him heal his broken heart, but he refused to take them because he was afraid. Afraid of being hurt again, afraid of opening to someone only for that someone to leave him like it happened the last time. He knew it was stupid to hold onto the pain from the past, and that not everyone was going to hurt him, but the fear was there and he spent so many years being comfortable inside the wall he built around himself, that thinking of going out of them was scary.

“I know, and I try but…I can’t”

“I know son, but being scared it’s just part of the healing process. You can’t throw your life away for one misstep. It’s not worth it. She wasn’t worth it” Bruce said trying to lift the boys’ spirits.

“Thanks dad, I kind needed this long overdue conversation” he said sincerely. He missed his family.

“No problem kid, I know I haven’t been the best example when it comes to relationships, but I know a thing or two” Bruce joked. Dick smiled wide, missing the old man and his antics.

“I have to go, I’ll talk to you later dad” he said, turning the engine on.

"Okay kid, take care, and please don’t hesitate to call. We miss you, I think even Jason does”

“Tell him I miss him too, and maybe one of these days you can come visit, if that’s okay with you” dick said suddenly worried about his father’s answer.

“I’d love to Dick. Very much.” He hung up the phone and smiled genuinely in what felt like years of not doing it. He was unaware of someone else looking at him from the other side of the street.

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x you #nightwing #titans #titans imagines #titans imagine #titans x reader #netflixs titans #dcu #dc #dcu fanfic #fanfic

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whitesparrows97 · 5 years

Text

A Thousand Springs – Part 11

Pairing: BTS x Reader/OT7 x Reader

Warnings: Maybe a bit of angst but not really

Word Count: 3.2K

Previous / Next

(picture credit: photograph by Mok Jung Wook for TIME Magazine)

“You have ten minutes, Namjoon.”

Your eyes fell on the clock, whose hands were ticking mercilessly. Namjoon had asked the others to wait in the living room while you spoke in peace. That had been five minutes ago and the silver-haired man was still sitting next to you in silence.

Your time limit seemed to throw him off track a bit, yet he seemed to be looking for the right words. You watched him as his gaze hectically glided through the room in search of the perfect answer.

When you sat down on the sofa, you took care to keep a greater distance between you, but you noticed how you missed his closeness. It was like there was an energy trying to draw you back to him over and over again. You resisted it, David’s words still too clear in your head.

“Namjoon,” you said when your companion still hadn’t started talking. You didn’t give the time limit thoughtlessly. On the contrary, the men should be happy that you gave them the opportunity to talk to them about everything. Had you known that Namjoon, like usual, would just keep everything secret, you would have been out the door five minutes ago.

Your heart contracted at the thought of it.

Namjoon surprised you when he suddenly got up and went to the chest of drawers with the photos of the ominous person. He opened the top drawer and carefully lifted something out of it.

When he turned back to you, you could see that it appeared to be a photo album. His eyes were on the floor as he sat down on the sofa with you again.

“If those are any more photos of that person, I don’t want to see them,” you clarified directly when he opened the album. “I gave you the time to explain everything to me and not to look at photos.” You noticed how cold your voice sounded, but Namjoon should know how much he and the others had hurt you.

“Please give me a chance to explain,” was the first thing he said to you. “Using this,” he added and lifted the album slightly. You had to suppress a sigh and moved a little closer to him to get a better view of the photos.

“I remember when we were on the beach, all those years ago.” Namjoon stroked the photo where you saw the woman standing in the middle between the men. Next to the group you could see a sand castle that they had probably built together. “This was one of the last beautiful days before everything went down the drain.”

“Is she the one you told me about the other day?”

Namjoon just nodded. “That was 1960.”

You swallowed. You had already guessed it, but to hear it confirmed by Namjoon was something completely different. It made it real.

But you had wished for the truth.

“How can it be that you still look exactly the same as now?” Your voice was little more than a whisper.

A slight smile surrounded his lips and you were happy about the slight change of mood. “Do I really have to tell you that, you can certainly imagine it, Y/N.”

“I want to hear it again from your mouth, Namjoon.”

He raised his head and looked directly at you for the first time. “We are immortal.”

Your head started spinning again. “How is that possible? Are you vampires? You’re not vampires, are you?” Your thoughts were spinning again. You had seen them eat something, that meant they couldn’t be vampires, right?

Namjoon laughed. “No, we are not vampires.” He stroked one of the photos lost in thought as he seemed to disappear into his memory. “It’s been a few centuries since we tried to invent a cure for aging.”

“A potion against mortality?”

He nodded. “Our ancestors worked on a remedy for a long time, but they only managed to find something that would slow down aging, but not stop it. That wasn’t enough for us, but after years of hard work we finally managed to find a remedy.”

“Why was it so important for you to live forever? Doesn’t it get boring after all these years?”

“Not if you can spend the time with the love of your life. We wanted to be with her forever, but we were denied it at the last moment.”

You had a guess, but you didn’t dare to say it.

“We seven had already drunk the potion and she was the only one missing… We were so close before David suddenly appeared and claimed it for himself. He had not supported us all these years and wanted nothing to do with this whole project. We were all the more surprised when he interrupted the ceremony and drank the potion himself.”

“So there were only eight potions? Couldn’t you have just made another one?”

“The production of eight potions alone brought the equilibrium of nature completely out of control, we were not allowed to produce another one. There can only be eight Immortals and unfortunately David belongs to them and not you.”

Not you?

“Wait, what do you mean?”

Namjoon gave you a sad smile. “Do you believe in reincarnation, Y/N?”

Reincarnation? What… Did Namjoon imply what you believed or did your thoughts once again simply make no sense? But that would explain the photos and why the woman looked like you…

“So you’re saying that… that this woman in the photos…”

“That’s you, yes.”

You stared at him in disbelief for a moment. Before you knew what was happening, you had jumped up and were on your way to the door. You couldn’t believe that. You didn’t want to believe that. The whole story was so unrealistic and made so much sense at the same time that you no longer knew what you were supposed to believe.

Namjoon held you back by your wrist and slowly turned you to himself. You had started to cry without noticing it and he carefully stroked the tears away with one finger.

“You wanted the truth, that’s what it is. We got to know you in the year 905 A.D. and made the potion together. When David drank it instead of you, we turned our backs on him and spent the next years together. Only ten years later you got sick and we were on our own. We thought we would never see you again, but 21 years later we met you again. You didn’t remember us, but you felt directly attracted to us.”

“Just like now,” you remarked quietly.

“It went on and on, we searched for you for years, found you and again you had to leave us. It was terrible to see you age over and over again, to see you die. We tried again and again to create a new potion, but every time we failed anew. But you came back all the time, it was never more than 25 years that we had to wait and at some point we felt safe. It wasn’t easy, but it was easier, because we knew that we would see you again.”

Namjoon gently stroked your wrists while telling you the story, focused on you. “But after the last incident, when you took your own life… It’s been over 50 years…”

“Oh, God, you thought I wasn’t coming back?” You took his hands in his and stroked his warm back of the hand soothingly.

“It almost destroyed Jungkook, this uncertainty… We thought we’d lost you forever.”

“How did you always know where I was?”

“That’s one more thing…”

You were a little afraid of the next part of the story, but it couldn’t get any worse. Right?

“I was talking about the potion destroying the balance of nature. Taking the potion caused side effects that we didn’t know about before. It took months for them to appear for the first time and they worsened over the years. However, we have learned to deal with them and can control them as much as possible. Taehyung, for example, can see into the future. He has been looking for you for the last decades and a few days ago he finally found you. He just stormed out of the house without telling any of us. None of us knew what was going on, even though it was not uncommon for one of us to need some distance from the others because of the whole situation.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through this because of me.”

His eyes widened slightly with surprise. “This is not your fault! We have chosen this life and are simply happy about every minute we are allowed to spend with you.”

Your anger was suddenly blown away. It all made sense and in retrospect you could understand why Namjoon had postponed the conversation for so long. It was nothing that could be discussed just like that.

“Anyway, Taehyung came back three hours later with the news that he had found you. The very next day we visited you so that we could protect you from David. He had been swallowed up for the last decades and it was a surprise that he appeared so suddenly.”

“Why am I so important to David?”

“He tries to take you away from us, he does everything to make our lives hell and unfortunately he has all too much time for that. But you are safe now.” He hesitated for a moment. “Provided you want to stay here.”

You saw the insecurity clearly on his face. You let go of his hands and wrapped them around his neck to pull him into a hug. He breathed out audibly relieved and pulled you closer to him by your hips.

“I’m so glad you understand,” he muttered into your hair.

“Namjoon, of course. I don’t know the whole story, but I think I need a little time to work it out first.”

“Of course, take as much time as you want! You can also move back to your apartment if you need some distance.”

You detached yourself from him to look at him. “I have said, I need time and not that I need distance from you. On the contrary, I miss you when you’re away for a few hours.”

He laughed. “We’re no different, baby.” His eyes fell on the door behind you. “We shouldn’t torture the others by keeping them waiting. They’re probably already imagining the worst.”

Namjoon was right. Again your gaze fell on the clock and you were surprised to find that almost half an hour had passed.

The two of you separated completely and Namjoon brought the photo album back to its place. “We’ll take our time to look at the photos as soon as you’re ready.”

“It is so strange to know that you have much more memories of our time together than I do. I wish I could remember that.”

“You know you can recover them with hypnosis?”

“Yes, yes, but somehow it’s not the same as if I could remember everything. It all feels so… strange.”

“You can always ask us about anything. No more secrets from now on.”

“No more secrets,” you agreed contentedly.

Namjoon pushed the door open and six men jumped up from the sofa and looked at you questioningly. Insecurity was also reflected on their faces. Your gaze fell on Taehyung, who turned his gaze away as your eyes met.

It occurred to you again what you had accused him of and how you had reacted when he tried to hold you back. Immediately a sense of guilt spread through your stomach.

You walked up to him and before he understood what you were up to, you pulled him to you, as you had done with Namjoon just a moment before.

He hesitated for a moment before you felt his hands on your back and he returned the embrace. “Jagi,” he whispered and you kissed him on the cheek.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized again, even though Namjoon told you you weren’t to blame. Yet you knew that you had hurt Taehyung’s feelings.

You felt him shake his head vehemently, but you took his face in your hands to look at him. “I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I shouldn’t have snooped around in the first place, I should have trusted you. And certainly not at all should I have accused you of something which was obviously not so. I want to apologize for that.”

His eyes looked at you in disbelief. “What have we done to deserve someone so great and understanding as you?”

You laughed and pushed him away easily. Little by little you embraced each of the men and you were glad that this miserable question was finally out of the world. Sure, many question marks remained, but you knew that they would not hide anything from you from now on.

You were surprised when Jungkook took your hand in his and gently pulled you out of the room without another word. You looked at him questioningly as you tried to keep up with him.

“Where are we going, Jungkook?”

He just threw you a grin over his shoulder. As you walked up the stairs, you could imagine where you were going. You turned left and entered his room a little later.

“I thought to myself,” he finally began to explain himself when he closed the door behind you. “You might want to see this.”

He made a head movement towards the window front and you knew what he meant.

“You were so excited about the view last time and today the sunset is especially beautiful.”

You took the remaining steps forward to get an even better view outside. Already a few days ago you had been speechless, but that was no comparison to now.

In the distance, you could now see the city more than clearly. Between the villa and the city lay the long way that you had travelled a few days ago and which seemed to you as if it had been weeks, if not months, ago.

The storm appeared to have passed you by. The horizon seemed to burn through the red, yellow and orange and bathed the houses and streets of the city in a golden light. The sky above you was a bright blue, streaked with purple and yellow and the few clouds gave the sky something soft and calm.

From here the city looked peaceful, but you knew that it was more appearance than being. David was not the only one who played a false game. You had to admit that David was a psychopath, but there were so many people in the world who weren’t honest with other people.

From the outside, a lot of things looked different than they really were. You wondered if others saw you differently than you did. Different than you really were. Did the men see more in you than you had to give? Would they be disappointed if they got to know you better? Or were you exactly the person you had been for the last decades?

The conversation with Namjoon came to your mind again. The moment he had told you the story, you had been completely unbelieving. You couldn’t understand how someone could do something like that to someone else. Especially if they supposedly loved the person.

Even now, you could hardly accept that you had been that person. That alone made you think that you had to be different. Different from that person who had hurt the men you loved so much.

Jungkook took you out of your thoughts and you flinched slightly as he put his hand around your hip.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised directly. “I was lost in thought. Today was… a bit much to process.”

“I know, that’s why I took you here with me. If I watch the sky changing its colors, I can sort out my thoughts.” His gaze was directed into the distance, as if he wanted to recognize something on the horizon. “I often stand up here, sometimes for hours, just watching the sunrise or the sunset.”

“For hours?”

“Namjoon doesn’t seem to have told you that,” he replied with a slight smile and turned back to you. He released his hand from your hip and instead embraced your face with his hands.

His face was so close to yours that you could feel his breath. Again it felt as if time was slowing down. You felt every single heartbeat beat hard against your chest and your breath came out in slow bumps.

You looked at him in amazement. His smile slowly spread to a grin. Your gaze fell over his shoulder to the clock that decorated the otherwise bare wall. You watched the second hand and counted the seconds until it moved the next time.

One. Two. Three. Clack.

Your gaze fell back on the dark-haired man who still watched you with fascination. „Just say…“ You hardly dared to answer the question in its entirety.

“If by that you mean whether I can slow down time, yes, I can.“

“Slow down or stop?“

“Just slow it down, and now that’s the farthest I can push it. I can also determine to what extent I involve people in the slowdown. But I always need physical contact, otherwise it won’t work.“

“Namjoon only told me about Taehyung that he can see into the future, but nothing else. I think he wanted you to tell me that personally.“

“It’s probably better that way, otherwise you might not believe him at all.”

You snorted softly. “I think after today I’ll believe pretty much anything you tell me.”

“Don’t let Yoongi know, he shamelessly takes advantage,” Jungkook laughed and you joined in.

“I’m sorry you had to go through so much because of me. Especially you…”

You didn’t get any further than that because Jungkook put a finger on your lips. “It is not your fault. The only thing that counts is that you're here now.”

“I won’t go anywhere so quickly now,” you mumbled past his finger and he smiled.

He gently stroked your cheek as he slowly moved towards you. Full of expectation you closed your eyes and could not suppress the contented sigh when his soft lips lay on yours.

The kiss was different from the one you had together a few days ago. It was more intense, right from the start. It was not there to give comfort, but full of desire for more.

His hands found their way into your hair and he pressed you even closer to him. “I need you, Noona,” he breathed into the kiss and you struggled to process what had been said. Your thoughts buzzed around, were everywhere, but not where they should be.

Your knees seemed to give way under you as his mouth slowly moved across your jaw to your neck. “Please don’t leave us.” His voice almost sounded desperate and his hot breath on your neck made your heart beat even faster.

“I will never leave you,” you whispered as your eyes glided shut to enjoy the moment. The moment that seemed to last forever.

Written 2019-2021. Do not copy, translate or repost without permission.

Tag list: (if you want to be tagged in the next chapters, just let me know ♥️ )

@oddly-drawn-muse @yoongiismytruelove @btsmysteriestolove @unicorntrooper @crazy-fangirl-10 @namjoonsslutakakoreanmanswhore @lyricstae @aretha170 @yoongisdumplingcheeks@bangtxnbxunch @brokencrownqueen @dont-hyuck @xanny91 @peaches-422 @kimmie113080 @madisonred88

#bts x reader #bts x you #poly!bts x reader #bts imagine #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts #athousandsprings

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fenfyre · 4 years

Text

The Fox and the Starling - Part VI

Part I Part V

"He didn't", Eren agreed and his body language shifted as he felt the air in the room change, the flames on the stove settling down just a bit. "Malphas came up to him, offering a familiar in exchange for Jean's loyalty. When Jean refused he threatened to make all of us pay. Jean, his coven. Marco and I..."

"But I bound him before he had a chance to do anything. And then I honestly just ... didn't know what to do with a vase full of rock salt and demon smoke. It looked fine in the kitchen though..."

"So you ended up using him as decoration", Armin finished for him, tacking an incredulous laugh at the end of his explanation, like he didn't quite believe it yet. "I thought you were keeping him for some kind of spell or ritual. That you wanted to harness his power somehow or force him to do what you want. That you were trying to circumfere the deals..."

Jean shook his head at the confused conjurer.

"I don't make deals with demons. I prefer business partners I can trust."

Besides, with the years he had been bound to both his mates and how their bond had evolved and grown the longer they spent together Jean was more than powerful enough to fullfill most of his wishes with his own abilities. But he was not about to tell Armin that. Either the conjurer was already aware of Jean's power, of the energy pulsing through the room around them, or he was not half as competent as he claimed to be.

"Oh, you can trust demons fine. If you know how to force them to keep up their end, that is."As much as Jean disliked it he couldn't help the intrigue that tugged at his thoughts whenever Armin made comments like that.

Back when he had bound Malphas he had entertained the thought of making the demon do his bidding for a short period of time but soon forgotten about it when thinking about the risks.

But the conjurer carried himself with so much confidence that it bordered on arrogance and Jean had always been drawn to those with power, those he could learn from. If all of this was not just a big bluff Armin used to get what he wanted.

Jean was still thinking, still considering, when the man shrugged and casually crossed his arms, the cloak billowing slightly with his movements.

"Well, if you don't need him anyway then I guess I'll be taking this."

The conjurer took a step towards the shelf where Marco had placed the vase once again, pausing as if to wait for protest, even raising a challenging eyebrow in Jean's direction, before slowly continuing his movements to reach up and splay his fingers against the gleaming copper.

"Didn't you hear a word I said?", Jean grumbled, knowing the guardian was still active and that Malphas' vessel would not leave this house without his permission. Still the sheer audacity that the conjurer touched his belongings with was starting to grate on his nerves.

"He came to me and threatened my family. There's no way I'm gonna let you free him so he can pull the same..."

"The deal you had with him ... it was about finding your parents, wasn't it?"

Jean had not expected Eren's voice interrupting him, especially not with such clarity. Like he had just understood one of the mysteries of the old world. But the way Armin paused, stilling so completely where he stood he might have just turned into a marble statue, was answer enough. After all these years Eren still seemed to be able to see through him.

"You still haven't found them?", Marco asked, incredulous. "Armin, I'm so sorry. But ... do you think ... do you think you can still ... I mean..."

The words trailed off but Jean could guess what his mate was meaning to say. If Armin had been looking since they first met, or even longer than that, there were lots of things that could have happened to his parents in over 50 years. Hope was a strong kind of magic. But often times a foolish one.

He saw a muscle in Armin's jaw twitch, blond brows furrowing.

"He told me", the conjurer whispered, his voice hard and unforgiving, fingers twitching where they still lay splayed across the polished copper, the carven sigil. "He told me where they are. That they're alive. But..."

There was a sizzle in the air that Jean had not felt before, a trace of a foreign presence that had escaped his awareness until now. He caught a whiff of smoke and sulphur, a faint trace of a stench that stung in his nose. From one moment to the next the demonic presence around them became palpable and the hairs along his arms began to prickle upright, the skin along his back tightening with a shiver.

A primal fear got evoked in him at the overwhelming sense of wrongness that twisted through his mind and made him recoil, running deeper than when he had faced down Malphas himself.

But no demon was standing in the kitchen before him. It was Armin, the conjurer, who had finally let go of his own concealment spell.

Jean had had never met anyone working closely with demons before but he never would have imagined they could reach such levels of … corruption as the man before him.

The fact that he couldn't see the crimson glow of hellfire in Armin's eyes or licking along his arms seemed like a small miracle.

He wondered if the conjurer used a glamour or some other kind of spell to dull their senses to his true form, just like he had with his own signature, or if he had somehow succeeded in keeping his physical form as pure as it was despite the traces of darkness lingering in his wake. Either option would be proof of an exceptional grasp on magic and a power that extended beyond what could be found with clever demon deals.

Part VII

Commissions | Kofi | AO3 | twitter | pillowfort

#EreJeanMarco #Jean Kirschtein #Eren Jäger #Marco Bodt #Armin Arlert #snk #witch!Jean #werewolf!Eren #werewolf!Marco #TD Sidepiece #witches and werewolves au #witchcraft

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punkpoemprose · 4 years

Text

December 16th- Bias and Bikinis

Universe: 1950′s AU/ Country Club AU

Rating: T (Teen & Up, Anna flirting in a bikini, swearing like once)

Length: 2015 Words

A/N: Oh you know I had to write Anna into one of these slamming 50′s bikinis. I apologize for nothing, except not showing you more! So here’s Rich Girl! Anna flirting with Pool Boy! Kristoff! Inspired in part by a post (that I can’t find) where @awesomemaple and I talked about Anna showing up around Kristoff in something both sweet and appropriate and simultaneously excessively suggestive, just to see him sweat. I will absolutely write that specific fic sometime very soon (once I find the post, I’m so sorry) but until then, here’s a taste of what that’s going to look like.

Anna was not flirting with the pool boy, that would be against club policy and she was a respectable young lady. No, she wasn’t flirting with the pool boy. She was torturing him.

She had, however, been flirting with him the first week the pool opened for the summer. She’d bought herself drink after drink after drink because he was cute, and it meant that she could shown him her ID. She thought that maybe a wink and the proof that she was 18, old enough to drink, old enough to do… other things… might be enough for him to catch her drift, but for a while it didn’t really seem to get her anywhere with him. Either he didn’t notice, or he wasn’t sure of what to make of her, and she wanted to, at least, interest him enough to get him to talk to her.

She upped her game after that, finding the courage to just come out and ask him if he was doing anything after work. She’d put her best charm into it, smiling and fluttering her eyelashes. He, in return, had rather gruffly told her that he didn’t want to be “a rich girl’s summer romance”.

It had hurt her in the moment. She was certain that he hadn’t meant for it to hurt her thought, He’d given her an apologetic look that almost made up for her discomfort and embarrassment, but the assumptions he’d already made about her with those words cut deep. Was she a rich girl? Yes. Was she looking for a summer romance? Also, yes. But, also no.

He was attractive and she di want to go on a date with him, but she wasn’t looking for some kind of whirlwind kiss and tell summer romance to tell girls about in the dorms, she wanted something serious. Whether that was love or friendship or neither was based on compatibility. She’d ended a romance before because of a “whirlwind” and she certainly wasn’t looking for another.

She was torturing him, and she did feel a little guilty about it, but not enough to stop. She came to the pool everyday she could, lips red, hair pinned perfectly and laid herself out on a deck chair under a shady umbrella. She’d read books in her bikini, ordering cokes and otherwise ignoring Kristoff Bjorgman’s general existence, even when she took her drink from him and slid him a tip like he was just anyone else.

It was a win-win. She had plenty of reading she wanted to get done before starting college in the fall, and she could watch him watching her from behind her dark sunglasses without giving him even the slightest bit of satisfaction. She wore two-pieces she’d seen described in magazines as “sweet” and “flattering” or “curve-enhancing”. She put a great level of effort into selecting the styles and patterns that perfectly walked the line of tasteful and utterly devastating for any man looking at her. She’d had her sister help her in the decision-making process and she couldn’t deny the results.

Sometimes when she knew his eyes were on her, she’d casually reposition herself, arch her back, shift her hips, angle herself so he got a better look at the strip of bare skin between her top and bottoms, just below the curve of her breasts.

She would never admit it out loud, but every time she did so, a little voice in the back of her head would tell him to suffer. And suffer he did. She enjoyed watching him sweat, and tug at his collar, knowing that it was her and not the sun making him uncomfortable. It was almost the end of the summer when he’d finally had enough to pull her aside.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he muttered under his breath. Anna had to do all she could to hide a pleased smile from her face.

“What’s that?” she asked, feigning innocence and tucking her sunglasses into her bag. She’d just been planning to change and head out for the evening when he’d approached her. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He shook his head and she took great pride in how red he got when he gestured to her and waved his hands a bit. That he found her so attractive that he assumed she needed no other explanation was flattering to say the least. It also spoke to her ability to see a plan through, and she almost giggled about that particular element.

“Oh! My bathing suit?” she asked, “I’m sorry if you find this one makes you uncomfortable. I’ve worn several others this summer. Is there one you prefer I switch it out with? Maybe the blue one with the little bow between my…”

He turned eve redder, and she thought perhaps it was unwise to make advances while half-naked to a man well over twice her size, but if the way he’d spent the whole summer looking at her like a man starved and then immediately averting his eyes was any indication of character, he was a gentleman, not a player. She knew as much to begin with, of course. She’d done her research before she’d started being interested in him in the first place, and she’d heard from several very reliable sources that he was going into his senior year of college and had a sparkling reputation. Knowing that, and seeing the way he was looking at her like he was about to burst, was what drove her to add, “You did seem to like that one.”

His eyes went wide, and she was certain with the way he was swallowing and fidgeting that the cat well and truly had his tongue. Oh how she’d like to be that cat. For all her “payback” she was still interested in him. She suspected that she wouldn’t have tried even half as hard to befuddle him all summer long had she not been interested, but he was cute and respectful when she wasn’t making it hard for him to be so, and underneath it all, she was hoping that he’d start flirting back. She’d spent just as many hours over the summer fantasizing about him walking over and kissing her as he’d spent enjoying the view of her in her blue bikini.

“You were doing it on purpose,” he said, deflating a bit, and frowning which was what upset her far more than admitting that she had been teasing him, encouraging and enticing him.

“Guilty,” she said, and flushed a bit herself, giving him a sheepish smile. She couldn’t take it back now, and she didn’t want to. She was interested in seeing where this would take them, and she could only hope that he would understand that her interest in him had been genuine.

“So what was it all? Just a way to make fun and watch me panic from behind those shades of yours, or…?”

She sighed, feeling less confident about the whole thing and a lot more guilty. It had never really been about making fun of him, so much as it had been meant to be a tease. She’d just wanted to show him what he was missing out on, to give him a little taste of his own medicine, making him want what he can’t have, even though she’d really have him in a minute if he wanted her too.

“No. Well, I mean it was intentional and I was watching you sometimes through my shades, but I never intended to poke fun. Just… I just wanted you to know what it felt like for me to be there with you looking so nice every day. I just wanted…” she trailed off, leaving it there and hoping that she hadn’t just upset him terribly.

“Me?” he asked, sounding a bit incredulous, “In this getup?”

Truly she did imagine he’d look better out of the club’s uniform shirt and trousers, but even in them he was quite handsome. She particularly liked his eyes, soft and earthy and expressive in a way that when he looked at her, she felt warm, and it was, once again, no fault of the sun’s. When he smiled it brightened her mood immensely. He flushed a bit, like her compliment had caught him off-guard, like he wasn’t used to someone thinking he was handsome.

She nodded, “Yes! I didn’t ask you out because I thought you were unattractive. I’ve been told I’m a fool, but I don’t think I’m that bad.”

He seemed taken aback by that, but she didn’t worry so much about it because his expression went soft.

“Aw hell, you mean that… all that… what you said before…” he trailed off and slouched a bit, making himself seem smaller in the space as he realized the situation they’d been in a bit more clearly. Anna found it rather endearing when he gave her a nervous smile.

“I’m sorry! It’s just… I was a goof. Look usually when someone seems interested in me, it’s just an act. I know I’m a big guy, I’m clumsy sometimes, I don’t really know how to talk to… Anyway, I know the way I am, so I just… I’ve been made the fool once or twice so I’m a little defensive. I didn’t realize you meant it when you wanted to meet me after work, so I just went for the best answer I could think of.”

He seemed nervous and more than a bit shy, so instead of pushing even harder than she already was, particularly given she was still in her bathing suit, she reached into her bag for a pen. Even though she’d just spent the entirety of the summer teasing him, his admission of fear stemming from the ways other women had treated him broke her heart. She understood a bit more about why he’d been so quick to deny her without any real knowledge of her intentions.

She reached out and touched his hand gently once she found her pen. His hand, that had been balled up at his side, tentatively relaxed at her touch. She smiled at that and gently pressed his hand open with her fingers. There was an intimacy in the act, one different than the one she’d experienced over the summer when he’d been watching her, and it made her heart race. When his palm was open he gave her a look that was something between nervous and curious.

She flushed under the scrutiny of his gaze as she removed the cap from her felt-tipped pen and jotted down her home phone number, her name, and the hours between which he could call her. She blew on his hand, getting so close that she almost smudged her lipstick against his hand as she dried the ink. It was another strangely intimate action, and she felt his hand shake slightly under her attention.

“Give me a ring?” she asked curiously, releasing his hand to allow it to once more fall at his side. That he didn’t ball it up again was something that she counted as a win.

She saw the corner of his mouth turn up as she tossed the pen back into her bag, preparing to leave finally, for the day.

“I will. Right after I get out, if that’s alright?”

She liked that answer well and truly and gave him a last nod and smile before stepping away to go and change into her dress and head home for the day.

If the smile she caught sight of as she walked away was any indication, he’d decided better of his opinion on summer romances with rich girls. Whether it be because the fact that she was the right girl in question, or whether it be because the summer was almost over, Anna didn’t know. She did, however, like to think that it was the former.

She touched her fingers lightly to her lips, where they’d almost pressed into his palm, and hurried herself off to home, where she’d wait anxiously by the phone for his call.

#kristanna advent 2019 #kristanna #1950's AU #Country Club AU

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calumsvapor · 5 years

Text

wherever you are | c.h

word count: 2357

warnings: cursing

pairing(s): calum hood/reader

notes: soulmate au. the povs in this are kind of weird. it’s 2nd person, but you don’t get that good of a view into the reader’s thoughts until near the end. it’s sort of from calum’s point of view but not really. idk just read it lmao :)

for as long as he could remember, the skin on his chest above his heart was occupied by the small lettering. by the time he entered grade school, calum knew that the letters spelled out the lyrics to his soulmate’s favorite song.

once he entered high school, calum was convinced he didn’t even have a soulmate. surely it was possible for the universe to mess up, or maybe his soulmate died earlier on in their life. all calum knew for certain was that the song the lyrics came from didn’t exist.

despite this fact, he was still amazed by the people all around him, brushing hands with someone they barely knew, locking eyes, and grinning from ear to ear as their markings flashed red before fading into their skin.

calum wanted to write the songs that people fell in love with. he wanted his lyrics tattooed above the hearts of the people who would bump into their soulmate while rushing through the halls, or while standing in line at a coffee shop. he wanted to write the songs that people listened to on repeat, sitting alone in their bedroom, trying to hear a small piece of their other half in the melody.

the years flew by, and before he knew it, he was writing songs and performing. he and his friends from australia had become more and more popular with each passing month, and their songs were played all over the world. calum’s dreams had come true.

so why did he still feel so empty?

maybe it was because he and the rest of the band were still in the middle of their new album, and he hadn’t completely figured out the lyrics to one of the songs he was writing for it yet.

or maybe it was because everyone around him was meeting and settling down with the people who they knew would complete them for the rest of their lives. even most of his bandmates and crew had someone. michael had crystal. luke had sierra.

and calum had his guitar and his notebook.

“why do you think you don’t have a soulmate, cal? you’re a great guy and anyone would be lucky to have you.”

calum sat on his plush leather couch, on the phone with his friend and bandmate, ashton irwin. due to the pair’s single statuses, around 50% of fans were completely convinced they were each other’s soulmates, which wouldn’t be too bad, honestly, besides the fact that his favorite lyrics were most definitely not from an ariana grande song.

“because i’ve googled this one line about a million different times on a million different days, hoping that maybe some singer somewhere just came out with a new song and i’ll finally get a sign that i won’t be alone forever.”

“maybe that just means you have to write it yourself.”

of course. why hadn’t he thought of that before?

“sorry ash, i have to go write a song. i’ll call you later.”

with a chuckle and an “alright,” ashton ended the call, leaving calum alone with his thoughts.

after around three hours of sitting alone with his guitar and his notebook, with approximately zero ideas and zero words written on the paper, calum set down his things and decided to find a nearby cafe to take a break. he was in los angeles, after all, and anyone who lived within 20 miles knew there was no shortage of coffee shops.

once calum decided on a fitting store to get his caffeine fix, he ordered his drink and sat down at a small table by the window. instead of pulling out his phone and brainstorming like he expected, calum found himself switching his gaze between the street beyond the window and the barista behind the counter, making his drink.

hey, just because he doesn’t have a soulmate, doesn’t mean he can’t recognize a pretty girl when he sees one.

eventually, his name was called, and he left the swirling mess of a chasm that was his mind and walked over to the pickup counter. as he was handed his drink, he met eyes with the woman who he’d been observing just moments before. the woman, of course, was you. the cafe was empty, save for calum and yourself, so he had no problem with making small talk - just a little mindless flirting - even if it was simply to kill time.

“busy day, huh?” he said, a small smirk adorning his features. you let out a shy laugh, and for some reason, calum found himself thinking that if somehow, someway, you turned out to be his soulmate, it wouldn’t be so bad.

“yeah, i’m absolutely swamped. you wouldn’t believe how many people come in for coffee at 2 pm on a tuesday in the middle of a workweek.”

“since you have so much time, why don’t you sit down and have some coffee with me?” calum quipped, the smile on his face never fading.

with a smile and a nod of your head, you maneuvered around the counter and walked over to the table for two calum had previously been sitting at.

“so, i’m just gonna cut to the chase,” calum started, “what’s your favorite song?”

“if i’m being honest,” you said, pausing, “i would have to say i don’t know. none of the music i’ve heard so far has really spoke to me enough to be considered my favorite song, and on top of that, i’m not really that in touch with current music.”

the bright smile on your face wavered as you met calum’s eyes.

“sorry, i know it’s a really important topic, given how things are, but i just don’t have an answer,” you finished with a sheepish, almost guilty smile.

“don’t even worry about it, it was a dumb question anyway. if it makes you feel any better, my soulmate’s favorite lyric is from a song that doesn’t even exist. just don’t tell the gossip magazines.”

“why would i tell the- oh. you’re famous, aren’t you? i knew i recognized you from somewhere!”

calum laughed a bit at your obliviousness.

“yeah, i’m the bassist for 5 seconds of summer. maybe you’ve heard of us?”

“mhmm! i think i’ve heard a few of your songs. she looks so perfect, right?”

“you really need to catch up on modern music, sweetheart.”

blushing at the nickname, you asked calum for some song recommendations, and you spent the rest of the afternoon discussing anything and everything, right up until customers started getting more frequent at around 4.

“so what days do you work? can i swing by tomorrow around the same time?” calum asked, fiddling almost nervously with his fingers, a stark contrast from his bold and flirtatious behavior from earlier.

you grinned and nodded happily, then waved goodbye to him as the door swung open then closed again, the bells hanging above it making a pleasant ringing sound.

on his walk home, calum couldn’t stop thinking about you. and yet he couldn’t figure out why. the fact that you didn’t have a favorite song meant nothing. it was just too good to be true. he had lived 23 years of his life, happily believing, no, knowing, that he was soulmate-less. and honestly, he felt it was for the better. he could focus on his music. he could focus on his dream. he was living out his dream right now, and if not having a soulmate was what it took, it was well worth it.

so when he finally got home, calum flopped back down on his couch and scribbled down the lyrics he had memorized by heart before he even turned 13.

he then stared at the paper for a good 30 minutes.

it almost felt like stealing. the lyrics, in theory, were his, and it wasn’t like some other artist had written them into a song yet, so there wouldn’t be any legal issues, but he didn’t really come up with them himself, did he? were they really his to write and record if it was just dumb luck that had tattooed those words onto his chest?

“what do you need, cal?” ashton’s groggy voice sounded from the other end of the phone.

calum had gone about his usual evening routine, then decided to go to bed around 10, since there was nothing left for him to do. but then after 3 hours of laying on his bed and staring up at the ceiling, he decided he needed some help.

“i really don’t know if i should write this song, ash. i have absolutely no ideas for the melody, the lyrics don’t even feel like mine, and honestly i’ve been doing just fine without a soulmate. i don’t really see why that has to change now. not to mention that i just met some girl at a cafe and she’s… i don’t even know.”

“cal, slow down. do you want me to be honest with you? i mean completely and totally honest?”

“yeah?”

“you should write the song. and i think the reason you haven’t yet is because you’re scared. you’re scared that even after you finish this fucking song, you still might not find her. you’re scared that this girl you met isn��t gonna be your soulmate, and you’re scared that you’re going to be alone forever, surrounded by everyone that already met their soulmates, and you’re going to feel like complete and utter shit for ever believing that you had a soulmate in the first place. and i think that’s complete bullshit. you can’t just throw away your one chance at finding someone because you’re scared. that’s not how the world works. now goodnight, calum. think about it.”

with that, ashton hung up, leaving calum in the dark of his room, his words playing like a broken record in his head. and even though he hated to admit it, ashton was right. and he’d put this off for far too long already.

after you and calum’s first meeting, you were disappointed to say you didn’t see him again for another two weeks, and by the end of the first, you had accepted the fact that he just wasn’t interested in you once he realized you didn’t have a favorite song.

which was completely understandable, seeing as once you hit your 20’s, it seemed like people only cared about meeting their soulmates as quickly as possible.

so you could imagine your surprise when, exactly at 1:45 pm, the bells dinged softly and the cafe’s doors swung open, calum emerging from behind them, swinging his phone around like a trophy and smiling wider than you thought possible.

“hey, y/n,” he said, breathless to the point where you almost believed he sprinted all the way there.

“hey, cal,” you replied, matching his elated expression, “what can i get for you?”

“you can sit down with me and listen to this,” calum gasped, still trying to catch his breath.

“and what’s this?” you asked, motioning to the file pulled up on his phone, his thumb hovering over the play button, and his other hand holding out a pair of headphones for you.

“modern-day music.”

you grabbed the headphones out of his hand, inserting one into your ear and motioning for him to take a seat. once the two of you had been situated at a two-person table, he put the other earbud in and clicked play.

once the three minutes of the song were over, you took the earbud out and stared at him in awe.

“shut. up.” you said, no hint of a smile on your face.

calum’s gleeful expression dropped to a look of confusion.

“you wrote that?! no fucking way!”

a look of relief passed over calum’s face as he grinned at you once more.

“yep. took me two weeks.”

“so that’s what you’ve been doing while you were too busy to visit me. i can’t say i’m angry.”

the two of you took some time to catch up on everything that had happened since you first met. you’d been coming into work and interviewing at various jobs in your free time, and he had been writing and spending time in the studio recording the demo you’d just heard.

as the pleasant conversation dwindled to an awkward silence, you finally remembered what you were going to say when you’d first heard the song.

“by the way, i think i finally have an answer to your question. that song is and will always be my favorite song.”

“you really mean that? you’re not just saying that to be nice?”

calum honestly couldn’t believe his ears. he may have been living out his dream of making music, but during the past two weeks, he’d learned enough about himself to know that a life with you was his new dream, whether it was as soulmates or just as friends.

“would i lie to you?”

calum smiled at that.

“no, at least i hope not.”

“i especially liked that one line…”

you then proceeded to recite the lyrics written on his chest word for word.

“it’s just amazing how you can write such meaningful and amazing lyrics. i could never do anything like that. i remember once in like 7th grade we had to write a song about the louisiana purchase or something and it was absolutely terrible. i mean we got an A, but that was only because-”

“can i kiss you right now?”

and with that, your rambling was stopped in its tracks.

“what?”

“you heard me,” calum said, the same smirk on his face as when you first met him.

with that, you leaned across the table, grasped the collar of his t-shirt tightly, and pulled him forwards. calum let out a short gasp of shock at your uncharacteristic boldness.

as the tips of your noses touched together, you felt a strong burning sensation right above your heart. as you looked down, you noticed a red glow, shining through the thin fabric of calum’s shirt.

calum placed his large, warm hands over your own as you looked straight into his deep brown eyes.

“take me on a date first, cal.”

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