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#er. which was stupid of me. however i enjoyed all of this. but now i am tired and rlly wanna sleep lmao
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carried to safety
prompt: carried to safety (alt no.12)
whumpee: eddie diaz
fandom: 911
hi! this fic is pre-buddie and other than that i have no notes. hope you enjoy!
Buck sees the danger a split second before Eddie does, for the simple reason that Eddie’s pretty much directly underneath it while Buck’s on the other side of the room. 
The ceiling is cracking. It’s going to collapse. 
“Get down!” Buck shouts. 
He and Eddie both hit the deck. A second later, there’s a crack and a crash and the ceiling is coming down on top of them. 
Buck lies immobile for several seconds, until he’s sure nothing more is going to fall. He gets up carefully, various small pieces of debris sliding off of his back as he stands. 
Once he’s back on his feet, he’s immediately moving towards Eddie. It’s dusty and hazy and he can’t see super well, so he calls out to his partner as he makes his way across the room. 
“Eddie!”
There’s no response. He tries again, shouting as loud as he can. 
“Eddie!”
Nothing. 
He almost trips over a chunk of plaster, and then just like that he sees Eddie. Or part of him, anyway. 
Eddie’s legs and head are visible, sticking out from underneath an even bigger chunk of plaster that’s lying atop his back. Buck feels his heart start pounding out of his chest. 
“Eddie!”
He drops to his knees beside his partner and feels his neck frantically. He gets a little lightheaded with relief when he finds a pulse. Eddie’s just unconscious, that’s all. 
The building makes an ominous sound. Buck looks up at the massive hole in the ceiling and hopes that nothing else is going to collapse before they get out of here. 
He shoves the hunk of plaster off of Eddie like it weighs nothing and doesn’t even bother trying to wake him up. He just grabs Eddie in a fireman’s carry and starts getting them the hell out of there. 
It’s slower going than he’d like. He can’t see very well and the floor is littered with obstacles and the ominous sounds are coming more and more frequently. But he knows where the door is, knows they’re not too far from safety. 
After maybe thirty seconds of strenuous walking, he pushes through the door and out into the blinding sunlight as another part of the building crashes down behind him. He breaks into a slightly lopsided run with Eddie still thrown over his shoulder and puts as much distance as possible between them and the actively collapsing structure. 
They’ve come out of the building on the opposite side from where the 118 is set up, but now that they’re out of the way of the most imminent danger, Buck can’t wait any longer. He needs to make sure Eddie is okay now. 
He carefully lowers Eddie to the ground and pulls off his helmet. Eddie’s eyes are closed and there’s a bruise forming on his forehead. His skin is dusty. Despite the helmet there are chunks of plaster in his hair. 
Buck taps him on the cheek. Nothing happens. He taps a little harder. 
Eddie’s eyes open suddenly and then he’s sitting up, far too quickly. Buck grabs him by the shoulders before he collapses back to the ground. He starts coughing. Buck gently guides his head forwards and puts a hand on his back. 
“What happened?” Eddie asks, in between coughs. 
“The ceiling caved in on us.”
“...My head hurts.”
“I know, buddy. Let’s get you to Hen and Chim so they can check that out, okay?”
Eddie nods slowly. Buck cautiously removes his hands from Eddie’s body - he stays sitting up on his own, which is good - and stands. He then sticks his hands out for Eddie to grab and pulls him to his feet. 
Eddie sways forwards into him. Buck catches him and holds him up. Eddie buries his face against Buck’s collarbone. 
“‘M dizzy.”
“Think you can walk?”
Eddie shrugs. Buck takes this to mean no. 
“Let me know if this makes anything worse,” he says, and before Eddie can say anything, Buck’s picking him up in a bridal carry - slightly more comfortable for his now-conscious partner than the fireman’s carry, though less practical. 
“Hey,” Eddie protests halfheartedly. 
“Yeah?” 
Eddie pauses for a second. “Never mind.” He again leans his head against Buck as Buck starts walking towards the other side of the building.
He goes as fast as he can, sure that by now the rest of the team is getting worried. He should’ve radioed them first, he thinks, though a quick glance down at himself tells him he wouldn’t have been able to do this even if he’d wanted to - his radio is gone. He picks up the pace a little bit more. 
It doesn’t take him too long to round the building - or rather, what’s left of it. He catches sight of Hen at the same time that she catches sight of him. She waves her arms. Eddie waves a hand back. 
“What happened?” she’s asking, as soon as they’re within speaking range. “Cap, I’ve got them,” she adds, speaking into her radio. 
“Ceiling collapsed. Eddie took the brunt of it. He says he’s pretty dizzy.”
“Let me look at him.”
Buck nods. He deposits Eddie onto the back bumper of the ambulance and then stands over Hen as she examines him, being careful to stay out of her way while still observing everything. 
“Hey, Buck, how ‘bout you let me look you over, too? I know you have a hard head, but a building did just fall on you.” This is Chim, appearing over Buck’s shoulder seemingly from out of nowhere. 
“Nothing even hit my head,” Buck says, waving him off. “I’m fine, honestly.”
Chim raises his eyebrows. Buck looks at him pleadingly. “I swear, if I was hurt, I’d tell you.”
Chim sighs but relents. “Okay, Buck. I trust you. Don’t make me regret it.”
“I won’t.”
Buck turns his full attention back to Hen and Eddie. Hen is shining a flashlight into Eddie’s eyes. Eddie is squinting and clearly trying very hard not to look away. 
“Buck.”
Bobby’s voice behind him is sharp. Buck turns around. 
“Yeah, Cap?”
“Why didn’t you answer your radio?”
Buck gestures to where the missing piece of equipment should be. “Think it got knocked off during the collapse. I never heard anything.”
“And Eddie?”
He hadn’t heard Eddie’s radio inside, either. “I guess the same thing. I’m sorry, Cap, really, I didn’t -”
Bobby shakes his head, cutting Buck off. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Eddie got hit in the head, I think, and pinned down by a chunk of plaster. He was unconscious for a minute there, but he’s not now. Obviously.” Buck realizes belatedly that Bobby is clearly fully aware of Eddie’s consciousness, considering the fact that he’s facing Eddie’s direction. 
Bobby nods anyway. “Let Eddie know I want to talk to him after Hen clears him.”
“Will do, Cap.”
Bobby walks away, and Buck turns back towards the ambulance just as Hen steps away from Eddie. 
“He’s got a mild concussion and some pretty nasty bruises. You sure you don’t want Chim to check you over?”
“I’m good,” Buck insists once more. “He’s fine, then?”
“Yes, Buck,” Eddie interrupts. “Still kinda dizzy and definitely sore, but I’m fine.”
Buck turns to Hen for confirmation. She nods, then looks at him in a way he thinks is supposed to be significant, though he has no idea in what way. She walks off to the side of the ambulance to join Chim, and then they’re alone. 
Buck sits down next to Eddie and exhales for what feels like the first time. “You promise you’re okay?”
Eddie leans his head on Buck’s shoulder. He’s never been this touchy before, Buck realizes. It makes something flutter in his chest. He tries to ignore it (he’s not very successful). 
“I promise.”
thanks for reading! i hope you liked it but also i apologize if anything is a bit wonky, i am rlly tired lol. have a good night!
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filthyjoetini · 5 months
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Stumblin' In
a/n: Part 2! Enjoy! Likes, reblogs and feedback are always welcome. The usual thank you goes out to @barfightzanddiscolightz for taking her time to beta read and edit and giving input <3
warnings: none
wordcount: 2.6k
part 1 - part 3 - part 4
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Part 2
Just as you had finally made yourself somewhat comfortable in the unforgiving embrace of the hospital bed, your bladder made itself known once again. Groaning, you pressed the call button for the fifth time in the past three hours. How much can one person piss? Stupid I.V. drip, you thought to yourself.
-
When they had first wheeled you into the emergency room, you were quickly surrounded by a flurry of nurses and a doctor. They had palpated your neck and spine as well as the back of your head and damn, did it hurt like a bitch. Because of your reaction to the examination and to be on the safe side, the doctor had ordered an x-ray of your neck, spine, and ribs.
You had immediately been pushed out of the emergency room, down a very long and bright corridor and into the x-ray room. In the x-ray room, you had bravely endured the examination, even squeezing your eyes shut, despite the x-ray technician telling you that nothing would happen. Your inner child, however, was hoping for at least one laser beam. Later, you blamed the concussion for your strange behaviour.
Back at the ER, the doctor had checked your results and fortunately found nothing more than a big bump and that your obvious concussion could be diagnosed. Additionally, they had confirmed what the paramedics had already told you: you would have to stay in the hospital for at least a 24-hour observation, and the worst part of it all was that you were not allowed to eat. So, they had put you on a drip, which fed you all the nutrients and medication directly into your bloodstream. The actual procedure turned out to be a mammoth task. It had taken them several tries to find a vein, and when they finally did, they had managed to pop one, turning your arm all bruised and blue. It looked like someone had twisted your arm.
-
“Hi. Do you need to go to the toilet again?”, the nurse asked with a smile, as she stepped into the room.
You nodded and pushed yourself up a little. Immediately, the nurse was at your side, tutting you.
“Dear, I’ve told you not to overexert yourself. I’m here to help you with that. Come on, take my arm.”
You grabbed her arm, and she pulled you into a standing position before taking the IV pole in her other hand and slowly leading you to the small adjacent bathroom.
Once the nurse had brought you back to your bed, you decided to scroll through TikTok, which you got bored with rather quickly. You thought about calling your best friend and your dad again but decided against it. Firstly, because they had both been alerted by the lady at the desk after she had entered you in the system, that you had been admitted to the hospital. You had insisted on giving her both names and phone numbers as emergency contacts and so they had both been waiting for you in your room as soon as ER had transferred you. Secondly, because it was already nearing midnight, and you were sure that they both would be asleep by now.
Before you closed your contact list, you saw it again. The short three-letter name that had only been on the list for a few hours: Joe.
Gingerly, you tapped on the name and a new iMessage chat opened.
Hey...
The three dots immediately appeared, and you almost threw your phone at the wall opposite your bed.
Hi there. How are you?
Blushing, you began typing your reply, your fingers gliding thoughtlessly over your phone’s touchscreen.
I’m fine, all things considered. I have to stay for a 24-hour observation, and I’m not allowed to eat solid food. They have me on a drip, which makes me piss like a horse...
Oh wow. Sorry to hear that 😉
Oh no! Oh fuck. Totally TMI.
Sorry! That was TMI!
Haha. No worries.
Chewing on your lips, you started typing again. You had one burning question to ask him.
OK. Cool. Um. Also. HOW THE HECK DID YOU PUT YOUR NUMBER INTO MY PHONE? DID YOU HACK IT?
Hahaha...do you seriously think I could hack a phone?
Yes?! I mean, it could be your job for all I know!
Hahaha. It’s far from what I do for a living.
Your phone was unlocked. I believe you turned off your auto-lock-thingy or whatever...
You quickly opened your settings, and he was absolutely right, you had it turned off. Snorting, you reopened the chat.
Wow there, IT-God, you were right.
IT-God...good one, Humpty Dumpty.
Stop calling me that!
What else am I supposed to call you. I don’t know your name. You’re Humpty Dumpty in my phone now.
Omg...noooo.
What’s your name, Bambi on ice?
Another one? Is he serious?, you thought with a groan but, quickly let him know your name.
Alright, changed it. See! *attachment*
Smiling at the visual confirmation, you let out a small yawn. Your eyes suddenly became very heavy.
I’m going to get some shut eye, I’m really tired.
Totally understandable. You had a rough day.
Bye Joe x
Bye...sleep tight. Keep me updated. x
---
You woke up from what you considered was the worst night’s sleep you had ever had. If it wasn’t the weird position you were forced to sleep in waking you, it was when a nurse would come check on you from time to time or help you when you needed to use the loo for the gazillionth time.
You were relieved when morning finally came. The first thing the nurse did, was to take you off the I.V. That meant no more peeing every 30 minutes. Thank fuck. She even brought you a small, stomach-friendly breakfast and informed you that the doctor would come by to discharge you soon.
Less than an hour later, the pleasant doctor handed you the discharge form as well as a prescription to take to the hospital pharmacy. You hadn’t shown any unusual symptoms which meant that your brain was working as intended. Therefore, the doctor decided that you could leave the hospital early.
Quickly, you informed your best friend and your dad about the good news, and they both asked you if they should come and pick you up. You told them they didn’t need to; you could find your way home just fine. Your dad, in his usual dad-manner, replied with a thumbs-up emoji whilst your best friend sent you the side-eye one. You knew exactly what she meant with it. Girl, if you fall again, I’ll kick your arse.
You chuckled and exited the message feed when another one caught your eye. It was the one you had started with Joe yesterday. His last message taunted you. He had asked you to keep him updated. So, you did.
Hey Joe!
Hey Tumbleina!
Stop it!
I’m being discharged early!
That’s great news! When?
You hurriedly checked your form. It said that you needed to pick up your medication from the in-house pharmacy and that it would be ready for pick-up at 12:45pm, which was in an hour from now.
I’m still waiting for my medication to be ready for collection which won’t be until 12:45...so, I think around 1-ish?
Cool! 👍
Yeah, I’m glad. Can’t wait to crawl into my bed.
I bet. Hospital beds are the worst.
Tell me about it.
Anyway, I thought I’d let you know. Because you were so adamant about it.
Thank you, very considerate of you to keep me, your saviour, in the loop.
You laughed out loud at his reply and responded with a series of laughing emojis before putting your phone down on the bed.
Too hastily, you changed out of your hospital gown and into your clothes. Your dad had brought you an overnight bag with comfortable clothes when he had come to visit you yesterday. However, the quick movement was too much for your bruised body and you hissed in pain. Slow down, you scolded yourself and continued to get ready at a slower pace.
You packed your few belongings into your duffle bag, cautiously slung it over your shoulder, and quickly glanced back to make sure you hadn’t forgotten anything.
When you arrived in the lobby, the receptionist asked you to wait in the waiting area until your name was called. Nodding, you sauntered over to the nearest available seat and ungraciously plopped down onto it. You retrieved your phone from your joggers to kill some time. You read the news and played some word-based online games.
You were just about to solve a rather tricky one when your name was suddenly called. Letting out a sigh that you hadn’t really intend to let out, you got up and trudged over to the chemist’s counter. The old lady behind it handed you a small plastic bag with your medication. It was ibuprofen and some sort of gel that you were supposed to rub on your neck and back. How you were supposed to do that yourself was beyond you. You quietly thanked the old lady who gave you a dismissive nod in return.
Slowly, you turned around and walked away from the counter towards the hospital’s exit. You were just checking your next tube connections on your phone when you heard someone clear their throat. Looking up, you saw a man standing by the litter bin, tapping his cigarette into the bin’s built-in ashtray. Why was this man trying to get your attention?
You squinted at him and all he did was stare back at you, with big brown chocolate button eyes. You let out a loud gasp.
“Joe?”
“Hey there, Bambi. Good to see you up and about.”, he chuckled, as he took the last drag of his cigarette.
“What the hell are you doing here?”, you asked in complete bewilderment, entirely ignoring his nickname for you and taking quick steps towards him.
Putting out his cigarette, he let out another chuckle.
“Well, I thought I could take you home...you know, make sure you don’t stumble over your own feet and fall again.”
“What makes you think I don’t have a ride home?”, you inquired, your hand now on your hip and his smile instantly began to falter.
“Oh shit! I didn’t think of that! Do you?”
“Nah.”, you giggled and he visibly relaxed, but his cheeks already held a red, embarrassed tint. “My dad and bestie asked me if they could come pick me up, but I declined.”, you continued. “It’s only a couple stops on the tube.”
“A few stops too many, if you ask me.”, Joe concluded, back on his confidence-track. He took a few steps towards you and held out his arms to you. “Let me accompany you home.”
“Fiiiine.”, you groaned, rolling your eyes and eventually linking your arm with his. “You’re insufferable.”
---
Your 20-minute ride home was the most eventful tube journey you had ever had. Joe made sure you held on to every railing, and if there wasn’t one available, his arm. He fussed over you like an overprotective boyfriend, which made your cheeks flush a little. No, you gotta stop thinking like that. He’s just helping!, you reminded yourself, shaking your head to get rid of those intrusive thoughts.
Still arm in arm with Joe, you exited the tube station closest to your block of flats and led the way down the street towards it.
“This is me.”, you announced, suddenly shy as you began to slow down your pace. Joe smiled down at you and let go of your arm.
“Nice house.”, he looked up at it. It was anything but nice. It was one of those ugly buildings straight out of the seventies and most of its residents had lived there since the beginning.
“Ah...it’s nothing. Most of my neighbours are elderly people. I basically live in a retirement home.”, you chuckled lowly, and Joe’s grin grew wider.
“Could be worse.”, Joe determined. “You could have a funeral parlour on the ground level.”
You gave him a puzzled, questioning look.
“Not that I have a funeral parlour in the building I live in.”, Joe clarified, giggling softly. “I just think that’s worse than living with the elderly.”
“You’re very strange, Joe.”, you snorted, shaking your head again.
“I’ve been told that before.”, he smiled broadly and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets.
“Hmmm...”, you hummed, glancing quickly at him. His eyes were fixed on your face, and you quickly averted your gaze.
“Uhm...thank you.”, you started, blushing once more. “For helping me yesterday and bringing me home just now. I really don’t know how I could make it up to you.”
“Hmmm...”, he copied you. Wanker. Then his face lit up like a thousand suns. “You know what? You could make it up to me by going on a date with me.”
Snorting, you threw your head back in laughter and rolled your eyes at him. When you looked at him again you saw him looking at you with anticipation. His big puppy eyes on full display. Fuck.
“Aaaalright. I’ll go on a date with you.”, you relented. How could you not? He could ask anything of you with those fucking adorable eyes.
“Brilliant!”, he replied, grinning from ear to ear, pulling you into his arms. Stunned, you wrapped your arms around him as well. He smelled just like he had yesterday: so damn good. Who needs air when you could live off his smell?
When he, too soon for your liking, pulled back a little, he winked at you and said: “I’ll let you know when and where.”
Gently, he let go of you completely and you nodded in agreement, head still too wrapped up in his scent to give him a vocal response.
“Shall I help you upstairs or are you good?”
“Huh?...”, you questioned, not quite hearing what he had said but since his thumb was pointing at your door you assumed you knew what was asking.
“Oh...uhm. I’m good. Thanks though.”, you smiled and slowly stepped towards the entrance of the house.
“Perfect.”, Joe said with a nod and slowly took a few steps back. “I’ll text you.”
“Yeah, alright. Let me know, when you get home.”, you requested without thinking, whilst rummaging through your duffle bag. Then you saw it, his trench coat. Before he could respond to your demand, you gasped and shouted:
“Joe! Wait!”
“Huh?”, he questioned, swiftly turning around and walking back to where you were.
“Your coat!”, you clarified, pulling it out of the duffle bag. Luckily, for once, it wasn’t accompanied by its other contents which would have spilled out all over the floor any other day.
Joe looked at you, confusion evident on his face but then he saw you pull out the familiar fabric and he suddenly remembered.
“Oh right! I gave it to you.”, he chuckled, and you carefully placed the coat in his outstretched hands, “Thank you.”
“It’s nothing.”, you dismissed him with a polite smile, “you asked for it back and I gave it back.”
Your pathetic attempt at indifference didn’t go unnoticed and it made him grin from ear to ear. Then he skilfully threw the coat over his shoulder and took the three steps down the stairs backwards, eyes locked with yours
You put your key in the lock and opened the door, bashful eyes on his now slowly retreating figure.
“Joe…let me know when you’re home, yeah?”, you repeated your request, just loud enough for him to hear.
“Will do. Bye, Bambi.”, he returned, almost shouting as he waved at you.
“Bye Joe.”, you called back, louder than him, rolling your eyes at his repeated use of the new nickname he had given you. Giggling, because to be honest, you thought the name was very cute, you entered your house and gently closed the door behind you.
---
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Note
Now hold on a gosh-diddly-darn minute, I noticed the entire time talking about a tipsy Peppino no one thought to ask this but what about tipsy GUS? I mean we saw him a li'l tipsy in the fastfood saloon escape, can I hear your thoughts about that/him please? Have they ever gotten tipsy together?
(I just like the mental image of the two alone, just being real giggly with each other (Gus just says "hey" and Peppi starts giggling which sets Gus off giggling) and being sappy goofs with each other <3)
HEEHEE u are so right and i am so sorry for withholding this information from the masses 😭
My homebrew for gnomes is that they are simultaneously hardy folk (able to eat virtually anything and immune to most poisonous creatures) AND extremely intolerant of alcohol. Theres no reason for that, i just like it alot :)
So Gus would be an extreme lightweight 😭 its SO bad; he cant speak clearly at all, he cant walk straight, he has the Worst hangovers and he wont remember anything from the previous night. The line between ‘pleasantly buzzed’ and ‘blackout drunk’ is so thin that Gus doesnt even try social drinking. If he MUST drink, it will be in the comfort of his own barebones apartment 😭 at least, until Peppino started hanging out with vigilante and his crew.
Gustavo LIKES drinking! Its just hard to find a good balance, and THATS bc he simply doesnt know how alcohol works. Peppino is like:
“Look ‘ere. All of these have a number somewhere on the bottle. Or a percentage. Lower the number, the better it is for you.”
Gustavo is like !!! Oh!!! That is very helpful! What would you recommend for me then?
“Probably…2-5%. 5-10 proof. Small 'a numbers.”
Gustavo nods, interested. He points at a bottle he recognizes from the last time he came here and got shitfaced. “That one up there; do you know how ‘a strong that one is? Or should i ask the bartender?”
Peppino squints at the company label. “45%.”
“Oh!” That makes sense. “Well what do you usually drink?”
“70%.”
“Oh!”
Peppino recommends some of the LIGHT light wines, the ones that barely have a hint of anything. Theyre sweet (which Gustavo loves so very very much) and for the first time in a very long time, he Stays buzzed instead of immediately faceplanting into being blackout drunk.
Hes very. Playful. Is what Peppino would describe a tipsy Gustavo. He hesitates to use the term ‘flirty’ because that is not whats happening. But hes like. Clearly entertaining some gruff looking men like five times his size as they ramble drunkenly about random shit like ‘waow….thasso cool…and then what happened???’
Its funny at first bc Gustavo is so fucking TINY that all you can see of him, in the group of men as they yapyapyap about some inane shit that Gustavo wont even remember, is his tiny little tail 😭 It is less funny, however, when Peppino catches himself rambling about work and Gustavo is like (ears perked; tail swaying) ‘mmhmm. wrow…thats ‘a kinda nice…what else did you do??’ Peppino is like *buffering* (‘something is happening right now that will need to be addressed at a later time. Do not forget DO NOT FORGET. URGENT!!!!’)
Otherwise Gustavo is just a silly guy. Vigilante will make a joke and he laughs so low and deep that he sounds downright villainous 😭 Peppino will point out something stupid on the TV and like hours later Gus is like ‘…heeeuehuuueee…..do u remember [insert stupid reference] and Peppino will giggle. Peppinos affinity for throwing around ilus are met with Gustavo going ‘😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊’ with absolutely no way to even pretend to mask it.
Gustavo has fun being out in the saloon but he really enjoys drinking in Peppinos house. Its not nearly as loud as the saloon and theres usually homecooked foods like breads and soups (Because Peppino stress-cooks ALL the time). Brick gets to stay indoors instead of waiting outside the saloon, so Gustavo gets to mess with his soft fur contentedly. He just gets to be cozy; its quite nice 😊
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leviathans-watching · 11 months
Text
mfil - 41
-` ♡ ´- m.list | no taglist | next | wc: .8k
-` ♡ ´- a/n: four more chapters :)
*NOT CLICKBAIT!!!* when asmo learns that you, the newest exchange student has a youtube account and following somewhat comparable to his own, he decided right then and there not to like you. however, after an unfortunate (and misleading) exchange goes viral, he has no choice but to fake date you in order to save face. will asmo crush you and put you into place like you deserve? or are those funny feelings in his stomach not hate, like he had thought? like, subscribe, and maybe fall in love (with this smau) to find out!!
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you freeze. is he going to tell the truth?
you don’t know what you’d do if he did. or what you’d do if he didn’t.
schooling your expression, you turn to him. he too, seems to have just realized what he read.
“our first kiss,” he repeats, quieter. “well, mc and i had just begun dating, and i was at their, well, diavolo’s house. like i am now, actually. we wanted to make a video where i did their makeup, because it sounded fun. so we got all ready, and it was as i was leaning over them, beginning the process, and they looked up at me. i just froze, heart racing.” he sighs, almost fondly.
and look, you can only spend so much time with someone lying before you learn their tells, and asmo… doesn’t seem like he’s lying.\
you don’t dare to think that he might feel the same way as you. he hates you, remember? can’t stand your presence.
“they actually pulled me in first,” he continues, and the chat explodes. you guess the audience hadn’t expected that. “and i was so surprised. now, i’m not going to go into too much detail about what happened next–” he says, winking at the camera, and you, unfortunately, remember how he’d ran away right after “–but let’s just say that mc is a pretty good kisser and i definitely enjoy kissing them.”
it takes you a second to move past that and remember it’s your turn for a question. get it together, mc.
“well, i’m glad you think that,” you say, a bit stiffly, and his eyes sharpen. “after all, otherwise things would be, er, kind of awkward. anyway,” you add hurriedly, turning to read the chat. ot’s moving really quickly, with so many people reacting to the story. one message in particular gains traction, with many people spamming it: kiss right now.
you lean back, sending a wide-eyed look asmo’s way. he reads the message, then freezes slightly.
“we should probably give the audience what they want,” you mutter, not entirely selfless in the pursuit, now that he talked about kissing you, you really want to do it again. even if it is a stupid idea, which is absolutely is.
asmo’s face is unreadable, and he turns to the camera, a smile sliding into place. “fine, fine. we see the messages. we’ll kiss. but nothing crazy, at least not for free.”
“asmo!” your cheeks heat and you hit him in the arm. he laughs, and you realize he probably said that to mess with you more than anything.
his hand comes up around your cheek, and you gulp, suddenly nervous. you shouldn’t even be nervous! he was the one that ran away last time, not you!
gently, you lean in, and before you know it, his lips are on yours. it’s nothing crazy, like he’d said, and what you’re feeling must be relief for that. you stare at him after he pulls away, completely forgetting about the live, the camera, the chat, and he does the same.
after a long moment, you finally break the moment, pulling all of the way away from him. “well,” you say to the live, clearing your throat, “it’s been great, but i think asmo and i are going to call it a night. thanks for tuning in and asking questions! i love you all!” you don’t even let asmo say anything, just ending the live.
“you realize everyone thinks we’re going to have sex now, right?” he asks, and you put your face in your hands. “oh, come on,” he says after a moment, “is kissing me really that bad?”
you give him a dark glare. “i should be asking you that,” you huff. “i mean, after all, you literally ran away the last time we kissed.”
that shuts him up. but not for long. “i was just taken by surprise,” he whines. “kissing you is fine.”
“so you weren’t lying on the live?” you ask, and his throat bobs as he swallows. now’s not the time to get distracted by that smooth skin, damn it!
“i don’t know what you want me to say.”
“the truth,” you say, exhaling nervously. “i want to know if you still actually really hate me.”
“o-of course i do!” he says quickly, and really, what had you expected.
“well, the feelings are mutual.” you stand. “i think i’m ready for bed now. good night.” you don’t even wait for him to stand, turning off the lights and crawling right under the covers. he can figure out how to deal.
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leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim ad your own
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satanic-witchcraft · 10 months
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Alrighty... I'm giving one last do-dad of information on the bakery au, that my friend @hazile helped me come up with.... Because again... if I don't I'M GOING TO FORGET ABOUT IT- 😭
Anyways... Golly I do miss posting, and I'm seeing the Welcome-home Fandom slowly start to reshape itself (rather quickly actually) from what I've seen which is very wonderful! Making me wanna come back from my break so damn quickly, but of course.. Irl priorities must come first! (more good news is that I'm actually starting to do better mentally, slowly but surely!)
Anyway... Onto this bakery-au info piece, so I can get back to my irl work..- 💕 hope you enjoy!
Endings to the Bakery-au:
Tw: death & heavy angst
° First way to get a specific ending, you would have to get Baker with his weakness, one of his weak spots is his head... And similarly, spice makes Baker feel very weak, You would also have to find a way to detach Baker from entity and then kill him. OR to get another ending route, you would be to beat Baker at his own game somehow (which would make Baker respect you and accept his death) those I'd say would be the two main endings! °
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- So one death-ending route... You find a way to detach Baker from entity, weaken him, and then kill him (The No-mercy ending)
- Another way is if you beat Baker at his own game. Outrunning him, outsmarting him, etc etc... And that is VERY difficult to do, I'm talking 5% chance of you being able to actually do this. In this situation if you then hurt baker say by.. Shooting him, he'd smile at you and accept his death and the fact he's lost. Baker would then have entity take his soul and wipe the memories of baker from all the neighbors expect for you, so you'd have to live with the knowledge of the fact you killed him. (The acceptance ending)
- Another ending... This one is more complex and sad. you get someone Baker still loves or has loved to kill him. now if it's someone like Elizabeth, he's dragging her down with him. Accepting his end, yes, but not going without revenge. BUT... if it's someone like er... Y/n, a VERY close friend of his such as Julie or howdy, or even phoebe if you managed to bring them back somehow... Baker would just give up immediately. This fuck would probably finally accept something he's always told himself, which is that he's unlovable. He'd just start to cry and laugh at how stupid he's been to allow himself to trust someone again, apologize for what he's done, and would let/tell entity to finally end him and take his soul. In these scenarios all the neighbors would still remember him. (The heartbreak ending)
- This au could hypothetically end as well with you joining Baker. Which is where you (y/n) find baker's secret and join him, devoting yourself to entity as baker had done or simply helping Baker to continue this little "game" of his and working by his side. (The Partners in crime ending)
So... Can you kill him?? Yes, will it be Hard?? Yes, is it still possible?? Yes. This being said I wouldn't recommend trying... As there is a higher likelihood that the rest of the neighbors will not believe you if you have not presented them enough proof of baker's secret, and baker hides his Secret VERY well.... And so they'll will turn on you, and you will be sent to jail for a long time in this situation.
Furthermore besides those four endings... There is a secret ending you can get in this little au scenario!
(Thank you @hazile for this idea!)
If you can get enough proof, get to the police without Baker catching you, you can have baker sent away to a mental institution & rehab, and he will be detached from Entity.
Like a little redemption arc! In this ending the other neighbors will believe you and be presented with proof and hold it against Baker for a long time... However though they'll begin forgive him or at least making peace with him more likely, some more than others, even if they cannot be friends anymore because of what baker's done.
The difficulty of this would be a 80-90% as it would require you to have to not only escape from Baker, to get to the police, but also not get your memory erased or have Baker reset the day somehow.
And baker has control over the neighborhood and eyes everywhere... So this would be pretty difficult. But again, if you play your cards right, not impossible. (This is the secret/redemption ending)
So in total we've got, for possible endings to this au...
- The No-mercy ending (50% difficulty)
- The acceptance ending (90-98% difficulty)
- The heartbreak ending (30% difficulty)
- The Partners-in-crime ending (0% difficulty)
- The secret/redemption ending (80-90% difficulty)
And then of course all of these routes can end with... Baker killing you, unless you chose the Partners-in-crime ending or you actually manage to get said ending you're trying to achieve! (haha, all of this sounds like it's an actual game huh??-)
Anyways hope yall enjoy, and I'm sure I'll be back again for either a pop-in, or an "I'm finally fully coming back" announcement soon! Haha!
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onewomancitadel · 3 months
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A smattering of general updates:
I played Tears of the Kingdom. I didn't really enjoy it. I understand why it was popular though; I'm just not the demographic for these types of video games anymore. I didn't find it creatively rewarding and after a time I sat there thinking 'I would rather be writing right now', and since then I have learnt that writing is made easier by doing things which are not writing, because it makes me miss it. My dad also doesn't really like it but for some reason has played hundreds of hours in it. I don't know either - I think he will take anything called Zelda at this point.
I spectated the Doctor Who David Tennant Special and watched some clips of the new season. I'm not a fan of RTD, and not a DW fan anymore (not for a long time), but it was an interesting study in how studios try to attract old and new fans.
I read a lot of books, and that lie people tell you about all books being good for you is a lie, because a cyberpunk anthology of short stories made me so angry I got heartburn. I think people who say that are saying so because they wish that they could read a lot, in which case I say, yes I think reading is a gift and we should engage with it, however, sometimes I get so physically angry from something stupid/bad I've read because bad writers exist that it gives me actual pain. I am reading Howl's Moving Castle right now and it's very joyful; I am very surprised by the liberties the animated film took! However so far I do think both experiences are worthwhile, and if you enjoyed the Ghibli film, I very much recommend checking out the original book if you want to revisit that world again. The prose is straightforward but a little whimsical, and Howl is very, very funny. I have laughed aloud a few times.
Well, you know I rewatched Dark, and it's funny that during my exile I said 'this is like if RWBY got the ending it deserves' and then, er, I found out it's not renewed yet, and that's still up in the air, which for the entirety of RWBY I have only had one true moment of doubt of such a thing, and that was a while ago.
On that topic, yes, I still ship Jaune/Cinder, believe Cinder's redemption is likely, etc., although there are some more external concerns I would wager now than before. Before I thought it very possible to do without any commercial influence, and it depends what compromises they do or don't end up making or having already made. My analysis of Jaune's arc in V9 may not hold water as much (e.g. if you lean towards the view there were rewrites to cater to growing the audience, or perhaps it's two ideas married? I'm not sure) so I'm going to think about it more, and there always has been a tension in RWBY between what is being expected/baited and what is foreshadowed/said/actually happens.
I figured out how to write again and what was blocking me, so there's that. To talk about it a bit more, since my break I have worked every single day on writing. My key takeaways are that you need a delicate balance of delusion and self-doubt to get anything done - you don't know you can do something until you actually do it - and every excuse I invented for not writing was not the reason I was not writing. I can write with a migraine beginning to set in on an uncomfortable desk where I can't even rest my elbows properly on the end of a bed with no back support without aircon in the middle of summer before I've even taken my hair out from bedtime plaits in my pyjamas. I didn't even expect to get my fic done right before midnight, actually I was like 'well lol that's not going to happen, I'll write anyway though, fuck New Year's' because I wasn't doing anything, and then I finished and looked at the time and was like ooooh. I actually completed my goal! So I'm very proud of that. Anyway writing is breathing, to me, I go crazy if I don't do it, no matter what it is, and every single piece of nonsense advice of productivity was not helpful, ever, but I did figure it out. Also admittedly I got a fire burning under me again because I found out I was actually right about Raven, in which case I took that as a sign from heaven I was on the right track. One should hope.
I am excited about Dune Part Two, yes, although I am trying to avoid Villeneuve talking about the film because I know all the marketing is basically directed at people who aren't Dune fans, and I have to see it for myself to see what it's worth. I enjoyed the first film, and Villeneuve seems excited to direct Dune Messiah, in which case I am willing to do whatever possible to make that happen. Because that's about as complete a story you're going to get in a major motion picture adaptation and it would be So Fucking Good.
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isleofair · 7 months
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For the ask game, 80!
I wanna give you a free space as well like you did for me. So answer however many or little you'd like, your choice~ 💚
I hope you have a great rest of your day!
😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍 Thank you so much!!! 💚💚💚💚
Now I have to try not to answer too many of these... 😅
1. Do you daydream a lot before you write, or go for it as soon as the ideas strike?
I daydream for AGES. I know that a story is the right one to write in that moment if I can't stop writing it in my head at any given time of the day (but especially when I'm trying to sleep).
3. Do you share your fic ideas, or do you keep them to yourself?
I can only give vague hints to a close person or two, and even that is usually more than I can deal with: once I've shared something about a fic I'm writing, I feel like I've created expectations (even though that's probably not true) and it makes me anxious. I almost got stuck on a story because of this once, so I try to be careful about it now. (Also, I don't like spoiling stuff in advance. 😅)
18. Do you enjoy research?  Which fic of yours required the most research?
I do enjoy research, but sometimes I fall too far into the rabbit hole and I drive myself half-crazy. The answer to the second part of the question is most definitely Stereoscopy. (Which, for the record, is also the answer to all of the "which fic is your favorite/the one you're proudest of/the hardest to write/etc. questions.)
24. How do you choose whose POV to write in?
I think mostly it's the character who gets to discover/realize/learn more stuff throughout the story/chapter, so I have more of a journey to go on. Although, of course, sometimes, only one POV can possibly make sense for the story I want to tell (Stereoscopy from Nathan's POV would not be even half as much stupid, frustrating fun, for example 😏). (And sometimes, er, I kind of need some scenes to be in Keith's POV because, well, Nathan would not share my personal reservations about calling a spade a spade, if you know what I mean. 😳)
34. How much of your personal life/experience do you include in your fics?
In theory/intention, not too much. But in actuality, pretty much every single time, I look back at what I've written (or am writing, even, now) and have a moment where the "Gee, I wonder which of my deep-seated issues this is an extremely blatant way of trying to deal with" hits me over the head like a freaking cartoon anvil.
57. How conscious are you about including symbolism or foreshadowing in your fics?
I really try to be, not so much about the foreshadowing, but definitely about the symbolism (although I think I only do it in either too-cryptic or too-explicit ways). I love using metaphors/similes/etc. and I really try to keep them consistent throughout a story, or to draw only from a single image/concept for a scene; but sometimes I stray because another one comes up, maybe for just a single line, that just seems so beautiful/fitting to me, and I'm not very good at killing my darlings.
And that's six questions and a very long post, so I need to stop! Thank you so much for giving me a chance to ramble about my writing! I hope your day is wonderful, too!!! 💙💙💙
Here's the ask list if anyone wants to ask or reblog it for themselves!
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kafkaoftherubble · 2 months
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这次又滚去哪里了:春节篇
Happy to report that it is now 初十 and yet no major conflict had happened! Neither did anything bad happened during 除夕、初一、 初八。This is a triumph for all of us! An indicator that Past Lyns' effort and action had not been in vain!
... Phew. Not that I can rest on our laurels, of course. One should never mistake anything as permanent, hahaha!
Oh, I wore my first ever hanfu! Or at least, modernized hanfu...
初一
Yo, guys! We finished Ajin on this very day!!! Ain't it swell?!
Wait, maybe that's why I had that stupid dream—of opposing Sato by trying to drag Kei out of his retirement with Kou's help—this past Saturday night. I'm angry because I couldn't interact with Kei properly with my persuasion game before I woke up, but I don't really wanna admit to that... Also where is the yellow text color option, Tumblr? WHY ISN'T IT HERE WITH ME ANYWAY WHAT WAS IT AGAIN?
It was mad fun talking to friends while getting in a preparatory frenzy for the rest of the event. Okay, fine, one of them was just that useless horny JJK-harem sister.
The cost is missing that morning's Ānāpānasati practice. Shh! Don't bring it up too often around him! I don't want to see That Glare.
Went to the usual place. The Wat we've been going to since we were kids.
This hanfu is so wispy and not at all warm or stuffy.
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Guys, I'm telling ya, we are soooo finding ways to incorporate this for this year's conventions. Probably some sort of mix-and-match in the end—that's how we always roll! A vest and a bolo tie? That puffy skirt? A combo that falls between being fashion-approved and "Only you will think this is good"...
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"Fake Flowers and Me" is the best combo ever.
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Background: you can see the entrance gate. Oh! The shrine for a pair of Thai ancestor spirits was blocked from view.
Foreground: Sister accidentally took a picture of me mocking Gojo Satoru's Murasaki technique.
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This wat was originally fully Thai, but Chinese visitors and elements gradually cropped up (which is really no different from how it's like in Thailand). Compare the architectural difference between the shrines in Fig 1. and Fig 2. Both re within the same compound.
Fig 1. Background: The shrine at the back is for 观音 (Guanyin), hence the obviously Chinese architecture. However, a bit closer to me (but behind the trashcan) is 孙悟空 (the Monkey King). Not taken within the frame of the picture are the other three main characters in Journey to the West.
I was supposed to mirror the Monkey King by looking at the other direction, but it just looks like I was adjusting my sunbonnet...
Fig 2. Background: The one at the farthest back is the main shrine of the compound. Their main Gautama Buddha is housed there. But I'm old enough to remember their actual oldest resident statue, though—he is now housed in the shrine right next to me in the foreground.
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Anyway, as per our New Year tradition, we went for archery. I mean, yea sure, we always come up with an excuse to shoot. But hey, I was wearing something that she imagined to be really cool with a bow. Was sure would look so swell!
But first!
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Look at those magnificent eyebags! Premium grade. As immaculate as Yuta's! Truly my best features. Anyone who cannot see the beauty of these bags do not understand my appeal.
Er, why were my veins popping?
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I looked so fucking swell!!! If I were 2 meters tall, I could be mistaken as the 8-foot tall Woman in a festive mood and a bow, right? Right?!
The music was annoying, but I shot pretty okay. Still had so many moments of shooting wide, though. I just can't seem to aim well. I always suck at the things I claim to enjoy, haha!
Also, the people working in that range thought I was "cosplaying" and asked me why I didn't celebrate Lunar New Year instead. I told him I was celebrating. This outfit is part of it!
And then another one came to ask how old I was. No one... believed me when I told them I'm 28. Apparently, these people had headcannoned me as "just 20 years old."
We really are in that liminal space when it comes to age. On the one hand, we're often one of the oldest in the bunch we're associating with. On the other hand, people mistake me for someone way younger, and sometimes, younger than my youngest sister even though I'm gonna be 30 soon.
Do I really ooze that much childish aura?
At least those people didn't think I was still in high school. Like that other time...
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初九
Went to the heart of the metropolis to check out that new elite mall for rich kids and tourists. But honestly, it was more of a romp in my favorite part of the city.
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Went to an aesthetic bookstore; finally found a good old Chinese New Year staple: goddamn Fengshui books.
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The MRT station sure looks like an airport, but many MRT stations look like this. Monorails had the oldest design—and are the slowest. LRT stations are the ones we're most familiar with; they are kinda like the most typical train stations with roofs.
Yea. Sis really went for a headful of hair redder than even Sukuna's. Throughout this week, she had been Makima, Ariel... and that Wendy's girl.
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This shop really captured the demography the mall caters to. The most "affordable" food in this coffee shop is 25MYR, which upon payment gives you... a piece of toast.
Their fish n' chips cost around 150MYR! I've eaten decent fish n' chips for 15 MYR, bro. The dory fish served had gotta at least dated Timothy Chalamet for three days, otherwise I don't understand the price.
Looks like it's an "experience" though. I mean, look at Fig 2! It's so opulent inside.
Sis is sure that there is now a new way to brag among us Malaysians. "I went to ___ to buy some toast!"
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There were several people wearing hanfu today, but most were women. A man looking this hella good in it though? Amazing.
I kinda wish I could make someone wear this so I can see how fucking handsome they must be! Hee hee hee.
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It was quite a humid day, and Sister kept complaining about how hot she felt. And then she would comment on every single person who passed her by, rating how hot and stuffy their drip must rendered them. "Wow, a hype-beast kid? That thick hoodie? Mm-mm. 9/10, Stuffy As Fuck."
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The difference between us is this. While looking at the central tree in the background:-
Lyn: Huh. Looks like someone can meditate under it.
Sis: Really? I was thinking someone could hang themself from it.
Lyn: Ooh! You are so right!!!
Sis:
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Walking in the City
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I was about to take a picture of the guy "pulling" his milk tea, but I failed.
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Strange people in a glass container? Under this weather? With what seems to be lackluster air-conditioning?
Sister immediately rated all of them as 10/10, "That ain't their skirts; it's their melted skin."
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Here's our own three-way intersection area.
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Just the back view of today's drip. Was wearing that Sato Cap. Mixue's lemonade was really good.
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Had a funny gait, Sister said. Also, "9/10; are you sure it doesn't feel like a sauna inside? You're also wearing a hat and a mask, dude. You're insane."
We also, by happenstance, encountered not one but two lion dance occasions! Can't upload the videos because Tumblr said "only one per post."
They were nice.
The food we had was nice.
I like rambling. I like to walk.
We had fun.
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elysiancloudii · 4 months
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A post 3-12h shift life tantrum
I’ll start by saying I’m proud of myself for the attitude I had going into this. I knew I had to work three days back to back and I knew what effect that typically has on my mood. So I knew to remind myself that the emotions I have while exhausted are not necessarily a true reflection of my reality.
HOWEVER (lmao)
I had a serious conflict with an ER nurse. It resulted in an extremely public situation and me being ostracized, which is insanity cause I was in the right. But I suppose that’s what you get for being in an insane place: insane results.
My coworker told be after “I know you want things to be done right, I know you care. But you have to stop caring so much. We don’t get paid enough for that.”
My integrity and how I demand justice are seen as faults. I knew this, but I didn’t realize just how much even others with the same complaints viewed it the same. It all returns to the same thing: being too much. Being fundamentally born wrong. And it’s frustrating.
Frustrating is not a good enough description. It’s maddening, exhausting, alienating. I sat back this weekend and realized my bids for connection were seen as annoyance, even bragging in a lot of cases.
I realized, once again, there’s a disconnect between me and other people. One that, no matter how I try, I just can’t seem to bridge. It makes people either openly hostile or subtly hostile. Even people who seemed to enjoy talking to me once, now make sly passive aggressive remarks or plain ignore when I’m speaking.
It’s not fair.
It makes me distrust people further, which worsens my chronic loneliness. I’m not good enough at pretending to be other than what I am, but what I am is like nails on a chalkboard to people.
And it’s not just at work, it’s at home too. People’s eyes glaze over when I talk about my passion. Even mom’s. The rant I have about how I was parentified and now am discarded now that she’s healed and out of that situation could go on for days.
I have no support. I don’t have the expertise or inclination to be other than I am. What do I do?
I literally have to google “how to end chronic loneliness” and “how to trust people again” lol. Most rhetoric I’ve come across is infuriating tho. And honestly, idk if it will even work. The people who claim to love me are either uninterested or emotionally unavailable.
For four days I’ve made a bid for connection with mom to discuss the situation and decompress. Nothing. I feel small and stupid. I feel like everything I’ve been told and taught was a lie.
Part of me wants to move away, far away. I want to punish her. That’s how I feel, now what I actually want to do.
I just want to be treated gently. And I don’t know why no one does. I’m fragile but I’m constantly being hammered away at.
I’m hurt and frustrated and sad. And I feel like the universe keeps telling me: you’re alone, you’re constantly alone, hey did you forget you’re alone. And I just don’t understand the lesson.
I’m tired. I’m tired of my attempts at connection driving people away. I’m sick of being hammered away at. I’m tired of being disrespected. I’m tired of never giving a sliver of what I give. I’m tired of trying over and over and over only to fail again. I feel pathetic.
If I’m going to be this alone, I might as well be alone in the way I want.
Why not move to a big city? Where I may be lonely but at least the shops are open 24/7. Lonely and surrounded by people is at least a little better than lonely somewhere deserted like here. I could listen to my family call and say they miss me, and I could pretend they mean it. That would prob feel a little nice. Better than being here an ignored.
Being human is too stressful. I’m constantly worried about saying the wrong thing, but I feel I’m just fundamentally wrong. Like every time I speak the sims negative social moodlet pops up.
Maybe I should take a vow of silence.
Idk what I’m going to do about work, I have too much integrity and empathy to be a nurse. I love it, but I’m am not right for nursing as it currently stands. I’m too emotional. I care too much. It’s embarrassing that such a cliche notion actually applies.
I’m sad. And I wish I had died any of the times I tried to off myself. I’m not going to again, I know the life cheat code now, but I honestly would prefer if it had happened. I’d be back home with Source. Or maybe reincarnated as a leaf of seaweed destined to be eaten by a sea turtle. Something simple with little to zero consciousness.
The world is wrong and out of harmony, so to fit in with it I would have to be too. But I can’t even find my own little tribe. I want to but there is a common denominator here.
I hate feeling like this. I hate the reality and finality of this. It feels like a punishment that only death would bring the release of.
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thetravellingvagrant · 5 months
Text
Day 11: In Which I Finally Go To A Good Aquarium
There has been, as any of the particularly astute fan of my blog may also have noted, a distinct and troubling lack of zoo visits on this journey. This wasn't for lack of trying, or the development of a concern for animal welfare that now outweighed the thrill of getting to go “look! A cheetah! …why's he so sad?”, no. The simple reason for the lack of fauna on this trip (apart from a fish, who are shit) was down to the placement of these zoos and how incredibly difficult they had been to get to, all being located, as they were, miles and effing miles outside of the city limits.
Granada, however, offered…if not a full, proper zoo, at least a reasonable facsimile in the form of the science park. 
The science park was, as the name suggests a compound that housed a bunch of scientific exhibits (even though the ‘science’ on display appeared to be limited, mostly to the science of stuff gently spinning.
Look at that sucker go
As well as a biodome (a big tropical room that was to serve as this trip’s zoo replacement) a small bird of prey sanctuary, a butterfly house, a museum or three, astronomy gardens and a waffle house, probably. I'm not sure about the last one, but there were loads of cafes and one of them probably did serve waffles. So that's where I went. The park, not the cafe. I had a packed lunch.
I went online and checked out tickets. They were reasonably priced, however, as with the Alhambra the day previous, the Biodome needed a pre-allocated time slot to be booked before you could visit and there appeared to be none left. Was this going to be my first zoo-less vagrancy?
…no. It wasn't. I went to the science park and asked to go into the zoo bit, in person and they said yes and even Gave me a time-slot only five minutes after my arrival, so hah.
Initially, I found myself quite annoyed by the concept of having a specific time at which I had to visit the Biodome and even more annoyed by the subsequent time limit they had placed on being allowed to enjoy it. One hour, to be precise. The Nazis. Regardless, I accepted my fate, listened to the relevant rules and regulations that one was to adhere to during a visit to the dome - one of which was not to bring any food in. I chuckled and agreed, quietly zipping my bag up which contained an entire, full loaf of bread which I had forgotten to remove from it in the morning and stepped inside.
As it turned out, being given an allotted time was more of a blessing than a curse as, though it did add a slight pressure to see the entire thing in the apportioned temporal limits, it also had the very pleasing effect of putting me amongst a small group of quiet and well behaved other visitors for my visit, rather than a pulsing mass of stupid flesh, as previous, other, worse institutions has allowed. I didn't have to swim through dullards to see a single thing and it was right good.
The Biodome itself was genuinely pretty good. It started with the third aquarium of my trip
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Great.
But that was fine because it was definitely the best of them all
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With the notable exception of this big boi
And wound slowly from the aquatic exhibits into a big hot room with all crocodiles and birds and monkeys in it and it was lovely. Far too warm, to be honest, but I can forgive that of a single room that houses both lemurs
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Yes.
And otters
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Yes-er.
I milled around a little, watching an otter try to crack a rock open on its tummy using another, different rock for ages and ages, before slowly ambling out, having spend 55 minutes there. A comfortable five before I would officially be a criminal (although quite what they could do if I decided to stay longer wasn't clear.)
Worth noting, too, that 55 minutes was the same length of time I spent at the Seville aquarium but the experience was one third of the price and ten times as good. Fuck you Seville aquarium and also Ryanair.
The park was due to close early today, it being a Sunday and also the winter, so I did rather feel like I had to squeeze the rest of my visit of the really quite substantial park into a shorter time than I would have liked. I had a look, first, at an exhibit of disappointingly professional taxidermy 
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What's the point if their eye-sockets aren't even exploding...
Before I ambled outside into the very pleasant weather of the outdoorsy parts, where I caught the tail end of an exotic bird flight display, which I did not understand a single word of but which I imagine were to the effects of “birds are brilliant!”, then had a quick gawk at the butterfly house which I didn't enjoy very much owing to the sheer density of people in it and the fact that butterflies, while pretty, are still just gross insects that fly at your face purely to intimidate you.
I darted to the astronomy garden to have a look at some sundials and absolutely delighted in watching the other visitors trying to take pictures of them, but all uniformly stood in positions from which their shadows completely obscured those cast by the dial
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Idet.
And even quickly managed a tertiary look around a big standard exhibit on the human body
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Yeah, I'm made of veins; tell me something I don't know...
Before closing time loomed and I felt it prudent to leave. I'd only been there about three hours, but honestly could have spent another two there, easily - another three would have been silly - and I had a really very nice time in the process. It was unlikely that I wouldn't, to be honest, given that the science park combined literally everything I like to do on these trips into one single low-priced compound; a natural history museum with a bit of a zoo attached; a lovely warm park to have a walk around it and - if I had had the time - even a big tall observation tower that I could have gone up and pretended I was an angry god from
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Also it had giants ants.
However good it was, though, it was now closed while the hour remained reasonably early. I walked, then, to a nearby park to enjoy a late lunch on a bench, andfollowed by a full and comprehensive exploration of the park itself which was pleasant if not exactly thrilling.
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Wahoo.
I made the thirty minute walk back to my last night at the hostel, determined not to nap only to - to literally no one's surprise but my own - fall asleep for an hour upon returning. I made a quick excursion to the nearby Carrefour, which I had visited every single day I had been here and twice on one of them, and bought some absolutely foul microwavable carbonara which I ate.unhappily in a crowded mess hall before returning to bed having had, other than the very last part of it, really quite a nice day. 
I promise I'll get assaulted by another donkey or something soon.
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The Return of Doctor Who Part 1: Rumour Patrol
TRIGGER WARNING: I still hate Chris Chibnall; unneccessary bukkake references; a tractor-crash described in punishing detail; the tragedy of being Wales (Britain’s Designated Punchline Province).
So, Doctor Who’s back- or is going to be later this year! And if you’re thinking “but it never went away…?” in a confused tone of thought, then congratulations on being completely fucking oblivious! The last few years have been… a car crash. But a not a fun car crash with lots of blood and guts to gawk at… more like one of those crap, country road car crashes where you pass a tractor upside down in a ditch with a farmer standing looking mournfully at it and wonder how something so slow and heavy failed to do the one thing it was trying to do so fucking miserably. That level of car-crash. So, when I say ‘Doctor Who’s back!’, what I mean is that Doctor Who is once more going to star talented actors and actresses and be written by experienced, skilled screen-writers who have paid their dues and actually have a handle on the genre their working in, as well as how to use themes, subtlety and subtext.
Now, to you or I or any sensible person, this just seems like straight-up good news. Russel T. Davies, who brought the show back to life in ‘05 is going to be showrunner, David Tennant is going to star, followed by Ncuti Gatwa (a BAFTA-winning actor, enthusiastic Who fan and all-round chocolate sex machine). For normal, mentally healthy people, this is a confluence of wonderful events that categorically does not invite shit-stirring. For certain parts of the media, however, it’s an excuse to invent dementedly racist straw-men from whole cloth, spread stupid-arse rumours about casting decisions in the hope of getting a rise, and just generally talk bollocks and pedal nonsense for clicks. So, because I can’t stand to see the discourse on something I love dominated by towering wankers with the media literacy of four year olds, I’ve decided to round up the rumours and op-eds, put them in a row, and subject them to the Firing Squad of Actual Facts. In other words, I’ve done the bare minimum of due diligence that the mainstream media didn’t bother to do and am now going to tell you which headlines are true and which are horseshit.
THE RUMOUR: ROSE TYLER IS NOW A DARK-SKINNED TRANS WOMAN THE REALITY: This is, of course, absolute bullshit. The Guardian (which used to be fairly reputable, before they started letting nutters with no journalistic training write for them) got hold of the name ‘Rose’ and the name of a trans actress attached to the upcoming Doctor Who special, put two and two together and somehow came up with seven. Trans actress Yasmin Finney will be playing Donna Noble’s trans daughter, Rose Temple-Noble, not Rose Tyler. Amazingly, it turns out two people can be named Rose- one probably after the other. The Guardian article is absolutely fucking hilarious, however, on a number of levels. For a start, it’s just factually wrong in the way that an article published in a proper newspaper shouldn’t be, but that’s just the tip of the iceberg. It takes the form of an imagined argument with a made-up racist transphobe so arch that it’s immediately obvious nobody on Earth has ever uttered their side of the fictional conversation. Additionally, the author seems to think that Rose Tyler is a Time Lord who can change her face like the Doctor (which is incorrect… although, if it turned out that absorbing the Time Vortex that one time rewrote her DNA, I’d totally be there for that. But that’s just me writing fanfic in my brain- not a real thing within the show). To put the icing on the cake, the article invites all those evil, bigoted fake fans to fuck off while (and I quote) “the rest of us have a blast.” Apparently, ‘the rest of us’ who will be enjoying Doctor Who once all the mean, bad people have left are people who, er, don’t watch Doctor Who or know how to research really basic casting decisions. Genius.
THE RUMOUR: AFORESAID YASMIN FINNEY WILL BE NCUTI GATWA’S DOCTOR’S COMPANION THE REALITY: This rumour is less stupid, in that it’s entirely possible she’ll have an important and ongoing role within the show once Gatwa takes over from David Tennant as the Doctor... but still no. She’s not the main, recurring companion for Gatwa’s Doctor. That honour goes to young up-and-comer Millie Gibson, who will be playing a character called Ruby Sunday. While we’re on the subject, I’d like to go on record and make a prediction right now, so we can check back and see if I was right in about, say, five years: while she doesn’t appeal to me personally (partly because I’m engaged and partly because she has less meat on her than ploughman’s sandwich), I predict Millie Gibson and her freakishly buoyant Jessica Rabbit chest-bongos will launch puberty early for an entire generation of Whovians. And now I’ve made that prediction… we play the waiting game. Preferably with our Bukkake-proof umbrellas raised and readied.
THE RUMOUR: NEIL PATRICK HARRIS WILL PLAY THE CELESTIAL TOYMAKER THE REALITY: This one is possible but, as far as I can tell, not confirmed at the time of writing. It seems that the Beeb has released a photo of Harris in costume… but not told us who he’s playing. The Celestial Toymaker seems like a reasonable guess, because he’s an entity with incredible, seemingly magical powers coupled to an eccentric demeanour and aesthetic, while Harris is a magician in real life (yet another reason to love the guy) whose general persona approximates the classic-era villain. The costume, of course, also fits the bill. I would be fucking delighted if this one turned out to be true, but let’s not get our knickers dripping with anticipation just yet. It’s still entirely possible he’s playing someone else. Maybe the Dream Lord from that one episode where the Doctor was basically torturing himself inside his own mind; maybe a classic antagonist so obscure even I don’t know who they are; maybe someone completely new, invented for the upcoming 60th Anniversary Special. We’ll just have to wait and see.
THE RUMOUR: GILLIAN ANDERSON MIGHT BE IN IT. THE REALITY: That would be great, because Gillian Anderson is basically the Second Lady of Sci-Fi after Sigourney Weaver (who’s kind of too American to fit comfortably into the quintessentially British Whoniverse, awesome though she is). However, at the moment, it’s sheer wishful thinking on behalf of the fans and on behalf of Gatwa, who’d apparently like to see her involved. Actually, since we’re occasionally going to be getting female regenerations from now, could we just cast her as the next Doctor after Gatwa? I mean, I know that gender-flipping is stupid because it erases an important part of a character’s identity (it’s a point I’ve made many times), but I also realise the toothpaste isn’t going back in the tube on this one, so we might as well just cast some really great actresses instead. So, yeah: Gillian Anderson for Doctor Who! Let’s start a petition before they accidentally hire a talent-free walking charisma-dampner instead! Don’t laugh- it’s happened once already. Twice if you include Collin, the crap one of the two Bakers.
And that’s pretty much it for the rumours. As it turns out, only one worth writing up was actively shit-stirry, while the others were… well, one was kinda dumb but understandable and a couple were just wild optimism. Honestly, that’s pretty cool. It’s nice not to have to spend hours of my life dismantling idiots for once- only mere minutes. Before I go, there are a couple of things that the media have been saying about the coming era of Doctor Who that aren’t rumours but which I feel I might as well address while we’re here.
1) Yasmin Finney said her casting and role in Doctor Who will “change the world”. To be clear, it definitely won’t. It might very slightly course-correct casting decision criteria in the BBC’s drama department, and it’ll be nice for trans people to see one of their own in an important role in a sci-fi drama, but ‘changing the world’ is definitely beyond the scope of a role in a piece of modestly-budgeted British genre fiction. That said, I’m not going to roll my eyes and tut too loudly- Finney’s young and excitable and you’re allowed to say stupid shit when you’re young and excitable. That’s what you’re teenage years and early twenties are for. That and substance abuse.
2) Loads of media outlets are going on about what a big deal it is that Gatwa is the first black Doctor in the show’s history. Again, I’m sure it’ll be lovely for non-white Brits to see one of their own in the lead role of the Beeb’s flagship sci-fi drama, but it’s not really a historic moment just because it happens to be a first. Britain isn’t America and, while we have our share of racist cretins, for the most part national and regional identity are much more prominent in our collective psyche than skin tone. Case in point, both black and white Irish people hate the English with equal intensity, everyone makes fun of the Welsh with no reference to colour, the Scottish are universally feared as hard-cases and Cornwall refers to the rest of us as ‘the mainland’ despite not being an island. Meanwhile, if the TV show Luther has taught us anything, it’s that we’re actually pretty good at judging a man by the contents of his character and not the colour of his skin. Provided a man’s an untidy megalomaniacal wreck with anger management issues and connections in the criminal underworld, most Brits will embrace him as truly One Of Our Own regardless of his ethnic heritage. I slightly suspect that the media is hoping the racists will come out of the woodwork over Gatwa’s casting so that it can go into smug preachy mode and score some Right Side of History points with thickos, but since this is the UK not the deep south of the US of A, that probably isn’t going to happen and they should stop embarrassing themselves. The gender-flip of the Chibnall/Whitaker era was capital-letters BAD and attracted backlash because, across every regeneration, certain aspects of the Doctor’s character were specifically male-coded or masculine, so the change was damaging to the character. The same just isn’t true of his skin colour- he’s culturally coded as British (despite being an alien) but not necessarily white or even class-conforming, so it just isn’t the same thing.
Right, glad we got all that sorted out. I’ve got a few more things to say about Doctor Who now that we’re heading into a period when it’ll be worth watching again, but those are definitely separate blogs. Expect to see those sometime this week. Until then, I never made the Doctor’s vow to never be cruel or cowardly, so if you’d like to fuck off before I get my shotgun, that’d be swell.
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nahoney22 · 2 years
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Yo have you been in the cad Bane x reader Tag on AO3 that bitch is almost empty. So yeah pleeease write Cad Bane fics 💕💕💕 your fics are always so amazing!!!!
My Idea: Cad Bane x mechanic Reader (He needs his Droid fixed who is preimperial and the parts are kinda impossible to get by. So he has to visit a specialtiy shop)
Piece by Piece
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Cad Bane X GN!Reader
word count: 3k
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Running a shop on the lower part of Coruscant wasn’t the lavish lifestyle you had envisioned but it wasn’t all too bad until a notorious Bounty Hunter comes to take a visit.
warnings: SFW, some swearing, can be seen as a platonic or romantic - your choice. Mentions of war, a little bit of flirting, pet names from Cad and Cad being a little nice???? Oh and mistreatment of droids.
Masterlist
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Cad Bane left the shop in a huff, his Techno Service Droid lifeless and tucked under his arm. He knew it would be hard to grab the hardware he needed but he didn’t enjoy going in and out of every mechanical shop on Coruscant to be shut down and turned away.
However, the last shop he went into, the Rodian, was surprisingly helpful and said that there could be someone who could help him on the lower grounds of Coruscant in a shop called ‘Defective Mechanics’. Then again, Cad had pulled a blaster on him and demanded intel on where he could get his droid fixed anyway.
So, that’s where he went.
The street he found it on was cold, miserable and had broken illuminating signs that flickered in the dim light. But, the shop he found shone bright and was respectfully clean and luckily for him, zero customers.
You were sitting in the far part of the shop with a visor covering your eyes as you held a small welding device in your grasp. You heard footsteps from behind you but you were too invested in your own little project to turn around so instead glanced up, looking through an old reflective mirror that had been cast aside on your workbench and saw a large brim of a hat. And only one person who you knew of wore a hat like that.
“Stupid hat.” You mutter to yourself quietly.
You were probably lucky that he didn’t hear you as his bad mood was already increasing when you took no interest in serving him.
“Oi.”
Now that was rude and that voice… oh it was definitely him.
“If you’re here to take me in, just know that it wasn’t me who stole that Kammris ore. It was that prick on the higher floors, Maz.” Despite your deep-rooted fear that Cad Bane could be here to turn you in, you maintained your stoic expression and kept welding.
“Not ‘ere to take ya in. Need my droid fixin’ up.” He leans against the wall after placing the droid down on the workbench; the same one you were working on that he just cluttered up making you sigh heavily and move back on your chair and finally turn to him.
“I’m a little busy at the moment. There’s other stores where you can go bother someone else in.” You dismissed him with a wave of your hand.
“Been to other stores. None of which had the parts I needed. Now, fix my droid.” He demands, the toothpick in his mouth twirling around irritably as you glare up at him.
To him, your behavior seemed odd. Most people who know of him would’ve turned away in fear or done whatever his bidding was for him in a second but you? Not even a flinch.
Eyes narrowing, you sighed and finally looked at his droid and carefully picked it up and examined him once over. “What’s up with them then?”
“Had his system damaged on my last mission. Been acting weird.” Cad shrugged.
“Is it safe to turn him on?” You question, your hand already going to the underside of the back of the droid's head to access the buttons.
Cad gave a small gesture of his hand as a go ahead and so you hit the switch and watch as the droid's eyes illuminated before jolting out of your grasp. Luckily for you, you wore protective pants so the little flames from its legs didn’t burn you.
“Mr Baneeeeee…. Where are youuuuuuu?”
Your eyebrows furrow and you turn to look at Cad who almost had a look of embarrassment cross his face as he watched his droid fly towards anywhere but him and calling out for him. It’s voice was slurred and you noticed that one of his boosters was flickering and very faulty. “Ah.” Was all you could say, standing to your full height and following after the droid as it began to root through your drawers in the hopes that Cad would somehow have shrunk himself and be in there.
“Can ya fix Todo or not? I don’t have all day.”
You whip your head back around at him and glare, gently taking Todo as he called him, back into your grasp and ushering him calmly as you switch him back off.
“Course I can fix him.” You reply, folding your arms over your chest. “But it will cost you.”
Cad narrows his eyes at you. “Ya think I don’t know tha’?”
You raise your hands in mock surrender, placing your original project to the side and making room for Todo and gathering the tools you needed and materials. “I’m just saying… bounty hunters ain’t too kind when it comes to - well - letting their money slip.”
Cad grew annoyed and scoffed. “Ya don’t know anything abou’ bounty hunters then.” He drawled out slowly, flipping his hat up a little to show the menacing look in his red eyes as he stared at your visor covered eyes but it was your turn to scoff.
“Trust me Mr Bane, I’ve met enough to know how they are.” You ignored his strong gaze on you and began with the calibrations. “Can you sit at the front of the store? Don’t exactly like people watching me work.”
A hint of amusement flashed across his face, finally finding a way to get under your skin. You didn’t like bounty hunters and you didn’t like people watching you. And here he was. “I think I’ll stay.”
“Why?”
He shrugged, moving around your private workspace and analyzing all the materials you had that clearly other sellers didn’t have. Who were you and how did you get all this? Realistically, he didn’t care at all but he found you interesting and probably for all the wrong reasons.
You glance in the mirror for a second time and see him about to reach out and touch a poisonous metal. You half contemplated letting him touch it as a ‘serves you right for touching my stuff’ but a part of you had a better judgment to not deal with the consequences. So, you spin round on your chair and grab an old discarded droid leg from a clanker and make a swipe at his arm.
In an instant, his large hand had wrapped around the leg and yanked it back making you flail out of your chair and practically into his chest. “Hit me again, why don’t ya?” He growled through gritted teeth, his height looming over you.
“Get poisoned, why don’t ya?” You mocked, flipping your visor up as you nod to the metal he was about to touch. “A thanks would be nice.”
Cad Bane was about to speak but only just then noticed the close proximity between the two of you. Your chest was an inch away from colliding with. His gaze lingered on you, unsure whether to hit you on the side of the head or not but as your visor flipped up, your eyes captivated him. He felt uneasy, hating that feeling in his stomach and so let go of the droid leg making you fall back into your seat with a huff.
Turning his back on you, his odd silence made you shift as you also tried to ignore the temporary warmth that resided on your cheeks from the way he stared at you. Although he didn’t thank you, you took him sitting on a stool in the far corner as gratitude. One, he was out of your way and two, he wasn’t snooping through your things.
You got back to working on Todo, welding pieces together as well as performing a calibration on its head.
You were at it for a few minutes and oddly enough, the silence that filled the back of your shop made you tingle uncomfortably.
There was a Bounty Hunter in your presence and it wasn’t just one that was new to the scene. This was an experienced killer, people fled in his presence and bounties trembled before him. Although on the outside you seemed unbothered, on the inside you were begging for your job to be done as quickly as you could. Despite finding him somewhat interesting, there was a wave of fear that cursed through you every time you saw him move just an inch. He could kill you where you sat. You could fix his droid and he could leave you without any payment. He could even steal some materials in his departure and you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself. So, making sure he was up to no good, you hatched a small plan.
You tried to be inconspicuous in your next move, pretending to need something on the shelf behind you so as you swivel and began ‘rummaging’ you side-glanced across at Bane. Your eyes started off at his boots, eyes trailing up to his legs that were spread open in his seat, one hand lazily situated between his legs.
Why was your mouth watering all of a sudden?
Eyes moving further up his torso that was partly covered by his long coat, his other hand twisted a toothpick around in his mouth.
You didn’t realise you were staring until he leaned forward, hunching over his knees and smirks in your direction. “What ya looking at lil’ one?”
Whatever it was you were holding dropped and you quickly looked away, mumbling an excuse. “Nothing. Just looking for a different…”
“You’d be a bad Bounty Hunter.” He comments aloud, tossing his toothpick carelessly to your floor and leaning back with arms folded over his chest.
“Oh yeah? Why?” You muse him with your question, may as well accept whatever insult he may fire in your direction.
The Duros tilts his head, sucking on the inside of his cheek. “You’re a terrible liar. A bad trait to have.”
Shifting in your spot, you swivel back around and focus on Todo again. “Didn’t lie. I was looking for something.” You shrug, your hands annoyingly shaking as you pick up a tool and stick it in a socket.
Cad watched you, eyes looking you up and down. They weren’t judging eyes; but eyes of intrigue. “You not a fan of Bounty Hunters?”
You paused and glanced back over your shoulder at him only to see him now standing and taking slow and calculating steps towards you.
“What gives you that idea?” That brave tone you once had diminished as soon as he was in your close proximity, your breathing slightly picking up as he leans down. You lean back further in your chair, his cold exterior radiating off him as a chill runs down your spine as he chuckles darkly.
“Just a hunch.”
“They create bad business around here. Wreaking havoc wherever they go. I’ve lost almost half of my customers because of people like you.” You found your voice again, not wanting to be belittled by the likes of Cad Bane. As quick as he was to come close to your face, he moves away and chuckles quietly to himself.
“A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do, sweet.”
You look away, managing to hide that stupid blush on your cheeks. If it was anyone else who called you that they would’ve received a back hander but there was just something about his voice that made you melt just a little bit.
Working some more, you began to feel a little more relaxed despite the fact Bad Bane was standing in your shop. He stayed silent from then on, merely looking around your back workspace before he became intrigued on who exactly you were.
“What should I call ya then?”
“Why?” You ask skeptically as you place some tools in your drawer and out the way.
“You can quit wit’ that attitude of yours. Just tell me your name.” Cad snaps and you curse silently as the minute tool in your fingers drop and clutters against the workbench at his increasing anger.
“It’s ____.”
“What kinda name is dat?”
“Gee, thanks.” You mumble. “As if ‘Cad’ is something to be humbled about.” You half expected Cad to take a swipe at you and break you down piece by piece but he didn’t. Instead, he was smirking under the brim of his large hat and feeling a little amused.
“So,” he repeats your name and despite the slight insult he gave it, you kind of liked the way it rolled off his tongue, “where’d you get all these parts from? Hard to come by.”
Since the last time he snapped at you for back chat, you reluctantly began to tell him.
Surprisingly, he listened intently and not once interrupted you as you told him that you were once a scavenger before you ended up down here.
After rumors of battles, you would hop on your speeder if close by and hurry down there and snatch up small parts that could come in handy. You knew it was bad business overall, having separatist droid parts that ranged from your classic battle droid to droidekas and even more intense parts from a Magna Guards electrostaff during the ongoing war. But, it fascinated you to know how many folk were in need of such parts, finding them far more superior than any other salesperson could give.
“Ya get all these parts and Jedi don’t come lookin’?” Cad finally spoke after a moment, twirling his toothpick between his razor sharp teeth.
“Don’t see why they would,” you place Todo down and prepare to give him a quick polish before returning him to his owner, “folk like them don’t come down here that often.”
“Too high and mighty aint they?”
At this you chuckled, coming to an agreement with the Bounty Hunter. “I suppose. If they did, I’d be sure to be shut down. They’ll think people are trying to create their own droid army for their own enjoyment.” You rolled your eyes, taking your visor off completely and running a hand through your messed up hair.
Cad tilts his head a little, watching you. “You’re nice to look at, yknow?” His compliment came out casual, way too casual whereas the blush on your features were not so casual.
You turned your back on him and shook your head. “I..Uh- thanks?” You reply pathetically, running a cloth over Todo and the slight scorch marks that littered its tiny body to give him a ‘freshen up’ but mainly it was to hide your flushed face.
Cad smirked to himself, very much liking your reaction but his smirk left his lips once you turned back around and announced that Todo was all fixed up.
Cad stood from the stool he sat upon and sauntered over, one hand leaning against your workbench but you couldn’t help but notice how he practically was now leaning over your body. You never felt so petite in your laugh as his tall frame shadowed over you.
“Well turn ‘im on then. Don’t got all day.”
Jumping at his sudden voice down your ear, you fidgeted and switched Todo on for his owner, watching as it’s eyes flickered as if it was blinking awake before he zoomed up and let out a small groan.
“Todo.” Cad spoke, watching as his droid twirls around.
“Mr Bane! I was wondering what happened to you during our last mission. I remember you attaching some device onto my back when we infiltrated the base and then - oh I don’t know what happened! Where are we? Who is this?” Todo spoke almost frantically but by the roll of Cad’s eyes, you’d hazard a guess that this was what Todo was meant to be like.
Then, it clicked.
“Hold on. Did you attach a bomb to him?” You hissed as you spin round to face Cad who backed up a little, his arm coming down to his side as he stared down at you through those large red eyes.
“It was for the job.”
Sighing with a shake your head and even give Todo a pitiful smile. “Then what? You tried to put him back together again and realised you fucked up?”
Cad was rarely taken aback but as he was called out for his lack of care for his droid and the fact his handiwork was now obvious, he clenches his jaw. “So wha’? You’re gettin’ paid to fix him and ya have.”
You dared to roll your eyes at him but you do anyway and stand to your feet, taking off your work gloves and tossing them to the side. “Alright. That’ll be 2000 credits.”
Wishing you could replay the look on Cad’s face on repeat constantly, you saw as his crimson eyes widened and his toothpick hung loosely out of his mouth. “Tha’ many credits? Kark. Why?”
You smirk a little and lean against the workbench with your arms folded. “I told you. I scavenge for difficult parts and sell them in a seedy little shop in the lower parts of Coruscant. If I’m being honest, you’re lucky I don’t charge more. And I need that money if I ever wanna get out of here. Now if you don’t mind….” You extend your hand and flexed your fingers and surprisingly to you, watch him dive his blue digits into his pocket and pulled out a handful before dropping them into your palm.
He turned and ordered his droid to follow but as you checked the weight, you frowned. That can’t be the right amount at all.
Quickly, you caught up with him as he was about to leave. “Mr. Bane, you’ve almost given me double what I asked for.”
You had already started to pick out the extra credits, ready to hand it him but you froze as the feeling of something cold took hold of your hand. Your eyes widen to the sight of his hand holding yours and you slowly trailed your eyes upwards, not even realising how in the galaxy he got so close to you without you noticing.
He said nothing and he was as cold to touch as his gaze was.
“But-.”
He cuts you off, enclosing your hand over the money and lets you go with a dip of his hat. “Thanks for your service darlin’.” Then he was gone.
Huh, maybe Bounty Hunters aren’t all too bad.
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taglist: @sporadicthingcollection @twistedstitcher27 @teletraan-meets-jarvis @jennamelinda12 @nunanuggets @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @cwarssimp @jesseeka @driedoutbasil @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @megafrost4 @adriiibell @theroguesully @edlix @erifan17 @equalityforcats @rexandechosandwich @mustluvecho @inagalaxywickedfahaway @misogirl828 @ladykatakuri
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drawlfoy · 3 years
Text
detention retention finale p.2 (the real finale!)
masterlist (catch up on parts 1, 2, and the first half of the finale here!)
request guidelines
pairing: draco x reader
request: no my original idea
summary: gryffindor and friend of the golden trio y/n y/l/n is tasked with getting close to malfoy to learn his secret in 6th year. things quickly become more complicated.
warnings: (please pay attention this time around) nsfw content, implied sex, swearing, character death. however, if you are sensitive to gore know that this one is a lot less graphic than the first half of the finale
a/n: wow. here we are! this part is going to be considerably more light hearted than the first part. ngl while writing this i reread my 8th grade diary when i spent hours overanalyzing what my crushes did/said and i kind of wanted to emulate that school crush feeling of “does he like me does he not”. if this seems like a weird turn considering how dark things were in the last chapter, i’m sorry i just really wanted to give poor draco and y/n a break fdajkfls. i hope you guys like it :) 
word count: 16.1k (the longest part of them all...lmfao)
tags! @sycathorn-slush @writeandtranslate  @gruffle1 @missmultifandommess @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @yiamalfoy @crystalox @dracoismybabey @dreamcxtcherr @decaffeinated-turtle @marrymetheonott @felicityofbakerstreet @daedreamss 
here’s a spotify playlist i made for this!
enjoy!
Back at the Gryffindor tower, she was met with a surprise: Ron, sitting cross-legged on her bed, paging through a random Quidditch catalog he stole from Fred. 
“Hi, Ron,” greeted Y/N tentatively. Despite the fact that Harry and Hermione had both been outwardly stand-offish towards her, Ron had, for the most part, remained neutral. “What’s up?”
He jerked his head upwards, his eyes wide. “Sorry, er, you scared me. Hey, Y/N.” Ron awkwardly waved. 
“Is something...going on?”
“Oh.” He uncrossed his legs and sat up straight, his thumbs twiddling together in his lap. “I just wanted to, erm, have a chat with you. I know Hermione and Harry are a little angry with you still, but I miss you. And I don’t think they’re right in doing this to you.”
Y/N allowed her shoulders to sag in relief as she joined him, letting the bed sink under both of their weight. “I understand why they’re upset. I just felt so bad, you know. Drac--Malfoy is going through a lot right now, and even though he’s been a prat to you guys, all of a sudden it was like I would be a horrible person to ignore what’s been going on with him.”
“Harry and Hermione think it’s because you’re a pureblood,” Ron said. “That’s mostly why I came to talk to you. Harry said something before the day in the bathroom about how he wasn’t surprised ‘your kind’ was so quick to turn on us.”
“Does he not know that you’re literally a--”
“Exactly.” A nervous laugh left Ron’s lips. “I mentioned that, and I think he realized how messed up that line of thought was. Anyways, he feels proper terrible about hurting you the way he did. I think you’ll have to wait around a bit before he swallows his pride and apologizes to you himself, but he hasn’t been the same since what happened before the break.”
“Wow.” Y/N allowed that thought to sink in. “And...Hermione?”
“She’s still hurt,” admitted Ron. “Can you blame her, though? One of her best friends starts messing around with her childhood bully?”
She winced. “I know, I know. Believe me, I know. But we’re not...like that.”
“I think you should try talking to her again. I’m not sure why you’re so insistent on keeping a promise to Malfoy, but nothing’s going to change unless you tell her why you did what you did.”
“Thanks, Ron.” Y/N reached out to lay her hand on his shoulder. “Also, I don’t want to be gossipy or anything, but I think you should leave Lavender for Hermione.”
Ron balked. “I’m sorry?”
“It’s just an idea,” said Y/N, shrugging. “I just have a feeling you two would be really cute together. I dunno what it is. Just an inkling of a thought.”
“I would never leave Lavender,” he said, frowning as his eyes hazed over. “I would never do that…”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Y/N smirked, elbowing him in the side. He grinned at her, the dimples easily forming in the freckled skin of his cheek. 
“Shut up, Y/N.”
Hermione Granger was not a difficult witch to locate. All Y/N had to do was wait until prime studying hours before searching the library’s long halls until she found the bushy head of hair craned intently over a large textbook.
“Hermione.”
At her voice, Hermione snapped to attention, a sour expression forming on her face. “What do you want?” She didn’t even wait for a response, dipping her head back down and continuing to take notes.
“I want to apologize, properly, for what happened,” Y/N said, settling into the seat across from her and dropping her voice. “I know I didn’t give you a very good explanation about what was going on, and I know I wasn’t completely honest with you.”
“I’m not interested in hearing what you have to say right now, Y/L/N.”
She brushed off the pain of her last name being used instead of her given name and continued. “I know you must be really hurt that I got close with Malfoy, especially considering how cruel he was to you.”
Hermione remained silent.
“I know that I’ll never understand how it feels to be an outsider in this world,” she said. “I’m sorry that I can’t change what happened in the past. You’re allowed to be as angry as you want with me. Believe me when I say that I never meant to lie to or to deceive you. You had to have noticed how different Malfoy looks. He needed someone, and I was there. He might not deserve that kind of treatment, especially not from you, but it would’ve been wrong of me to just let him suffer on his own.”
Hermione finally met her eyes, a few tears shining in the deep brown depths of her stare. “I don’t understand how you could overlook all the things he’s said about me. Is...that what you think of me, too?”
“Of course not, Hermione,” exclaimed Y/N. The angry shh from the table over made her drop her voice once again. “You’re twice as capable as my entire bloodline combined. You have every right to be part of this world. You are part of this world and you always have been. If I thought that Draco hadn’t changed, I wouldn’t have become friends with him.”
“You call him Draco now?”
“He’s my friend. And I think that if things were a little different, he’d actually defect from his family’s beliefs and join our side. Living firsthand in the close proximity of Death Eaters really took a toll on him.”
Hermione chewed her lip. “This is really hard. I don’t know what to say.”
“I miss you,” confessed Y/N. “And, to be honest, I felt quite left out, too. I know you and Harry and Ron have important confidential business to attend to, but the way it was treated made it seem like I was too stupid to hear about or understand it. Draco didn’t make me feel that way, and I liked it.”
To her surprise, Hermione’s features softened. “I’m sorry. I really am, Y/N. I don’t know why I didn’t realize earlier how unfair we were to you about that.”
“Really?” 
She shrugged. “I think so.”
“Are we okay, then?”
Hermione frowned a little deeper as her idle hand allowed her quill to dribble ink over the fresh parchment she used. “Not really. I think I need some time. It’s hard for me to feel like I can trust you again after all of this.”
“I completely understand,” Y/N rushed out. “Hopefully one day things will be better, yeah?”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Hermione offered her a small smile before turning back to her work. If it had been another time, Y/N would’ve invited herself to sit across from her and distract her as she tried to study, telling Hermione all about her day and how much she wanted to drop kick Goyle across the Quidditch pitch, but it was different now, and she knew that. 
Without another word, Y/N got up and left her old friend in her library. 
Her dorm was rather quiet as she settled back into her bed for the second time that day, this time happy to find it entirely empty. It was a Sunday, after all, and she had an entire stack of homework to try and drag herself through before her classes the next day. 
As her fingers began to card through the messy parchment of her desk, she took notice of an item that hadn’t been there before--a crimson red envelope, embossed with glittery golden piping and a roaring lion. Her family crest.
Y/N tore into the parchment as she wracked her brain to try and guess the contents. A howler? No, she’d been (mostly) good. A gift? She hadn’t been that good. What awaited her was much more underwhelming--just a boring old piece of parchment with black ink penned in her father’s handwriting. 
But the news that it brought her had the memories from Christmas Break rushing back.
~
The next day, he was sitting in his Potions seat, making small talk with Pansy that coaxed a few laughs out of both students like nothing had happened the day before. Their eyes met briefly before he uncomfortably cleared his throat and turned away, back to Pansy’s animated speech over how ridiculous this class was. 
Her heart ached at the sight. How could he act like nothing had ever happened between them? How could he just evade eye contact like that? Y/N felt a wave of uncontrollable jealousy wash over her when the thought of Pansy lying in his silk sheets with the knowledge that she was actually HIS, that he actually wanted her. It was all she could do to avert her eyes and pretend it didn’t happen, though Draco wasn’t exactly ignoring her anymore, which was almost worse. Now that she knew he only saw her as a friend, it only hurt so much more when he would chivalrously offer to walk her back to the library at night or say polite hellos to her in the halls. 
The days began to bleed into each other again, speeding along even quicker now that she actually had people to sit with during meals and to talk to during common hours. Hermione and Ron had begun speaking to her again, though Harry was still making himself sparse whenever she appeared in a group.
To her surprise, though, that changed one day when a paper crane fluttered onto her desk in Charms. She opened it quickly, hoping desperately (and against her will) that it was from Draco, but instead she was greeted with a messy scrawl that she knew very well.
Meet me after practice on the pitch if you’d be okay with talking to me. -Harry
Despite the recent events, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a twinge of nostalgia for the many times that Harry had written her similar notes, back when their relationship wasn’t rocky and she was actually helping the Trio. That wistfulness was quickly replaced with anxiety when she tried to figure out what to expect from Harry.
“Y/N,” he greeted her a few hours later. She rose from her seat on the bleachers and began to walk alongside him.
“Hi Harry.”
“Listen,” he began, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “I know I’m not very good at talking about feelings--that’s why I’ve been putting this off for so long--but you deserve an apology for what happened in Myrtle’s bathroom. I don’t think I’ll ever understand your connection with Malfoy, but that isn’t an excuse for what happened.”
Well, this was going better than expected. “I’m not going to lie and say that it’s okay that you hexed me, but I don’t blame you all that much.”
Harry let out a nervous laugh. “That’s, er, really good to hear, Y/N. I am so, so sorry for what I did to you. Are you okay?”
“Just peachy,” responded Y/N. “Madame Pomfrey even said that the scarring might go away.” The way the blood drained out of his face made her realize that that probably wasn’t the right thing to say.
“Oh, Merlin, there’s scarring?”
“Forget I said that,” replied Y/N, placing a hand comfortingly on his arm. “Water under the bridge. It really is okay.”
“Well…” He coughed awkwardly as they neared the castle’s entrance. “I think I owe you an explanation as well. If you want one, that is.”
“Shoot,” she said. “Preferably not a deadly curse at me, though.”
If Harry thought that was funny, he certainly didn’t show it. “Looking back on what happened, it was all just a complete blur. I lost control.”
“Because I hadn’t told you about Malfoy?”
“Oh, well…” He cleared his throat, avoiding her eyes. “Obviously I was angry that you’d lied to us. And I was angry at Malfoy over Katie Bell. But that wasn’t what made me lose control. It was seeing you together. There was this moment before either of you noticed I was there and it just made me sick to my stomach to watch. Merlin, the way he…” Harry trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut. “The way he looked at you. It just boiled my blood.”
“What do you mean?” asked Y/N, beginning to grow more and more confused. How could Harry have seen something that wasn’t even there in the first place? 
“And the way you two looked at each other in Potions,” he continued, clearly not planning on answering her question. “It makes me sick. He doesn’t deserve you.”
“He doesn’t see me that way, Harry,” she said, her voice little.
“Has he told you that?”
“As a matter of fact he has.”
Harry’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. Sorry about that.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” she replied, holding his palms up in a surrender. “It’s not as if it came as a surprise or anything. Plus, not like I care. Just because I don’t want to see him get hurt does not mean I have feelings for him.” Y/N was talking too animatedly, something that prompted her friend to tilt his head and send her a curious look. 
“Right. Well…” Harry stood up, brushing his robes off. “If I didn’t make it clear enough already, I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever understand what you see in him. But you haven’t lost me. I just hope I haven’t lost you.”
Y/N gave him a grateful smile before launching into his arms. He started, but once Y/N had her arms around his neck, he hugged her back. She breathed in the familiar woodsy smell she’d known since she was 11 and swallowed the lump in her throat. “I missed you, Harry.”
“I missed you too. So much.” 
She was just about to poke fun at him for being sappy when someone pointedly cleared their throat behind them, prompting her to spin around and prepare to tell someone off for interrupting her conversation. Once she saw who it was before her, though, she froze. 
“Try and keep the PDA at a minimum, yeah?” Draco Malfoy said, his lips twisted into a bored scowl.
“Draco,” she warned. He simply arched an eyebrow at her before swiftly passing by the two, being sure to brush harshly against Harry’s shoulder.
“What has gotten into him?” she asked in astonishment. “Merlin, it’s like we time traveled back to 5th year or something.” 
He scoffed at her side. “Y/N, what did I tell you?”
The next day, Draco wasn’t at breakfast. Y/N tried not to think too much about his empty seat as she listened to Ron ramble on about how crazy Lavender was being. She had finally migrated over to the Gryffindor table, bringing her new Ravenclaw friend along with her. Hermione was still giving her side eye, but it was better than being treated like a complete outcast. This time around, Parkinson was gone from the Slytherin table, too. The thought of Pansy being the one to comfort him filled her chest with the slimy coolness of jealousy, but instead of dwelling on it further, she stabbed her fork through the strawberry on her plate and took a bite. If he wanted to mess around with her, he could. Merlin knew he needed some sort of distraction. But her most private thoughts couldn’t help but wonder if he ever had feelings for her. There were so many moments that made her think otherwise--the way he’d blush when she said anything flirtatious, how eager he had been to walk her to her dorm, all the glances sent her way…
It was at moments like these when Y/N sternly reminded herself that they were just friends and that was all he’d ever seen her as. Friends brushed hands. Friends walked each other to their dorms. Friends stared across the room at each other sometimes. Friends gave each other gifts. Hermione, Ron, and Luna had all acted similarly to her in the past and it was entirely platonic. She was just overanalyzing.
He didn’t show up to Potions, Charms, or Defense Against the Dark Arts. Snape was giving her the eye, and Y/N uncomfortably shifted in her chair as she wondered if the wizard had found out it was her who stole the Veritaserum.
“As you all may know,” he drawled, stalking the perimeter of the classroom, “A particular potion of mine has been...misplaced. If any of you happen to know where it is, I suggest you confess now.”
Nervous chatter erupted around the room as Snape’s eyes bored into hers. Was he using Legilimency on her? Wouldn’t she feel something? Despite her worries, he broke eye contact and spun around to the board, scrawling the topic of the lesson on the chalkboard. Y/N reminded herself to breathe. 
He wasn’t at lunch, Transfiguration, or dinner. Y/N was starting to believe that Draco had just up and left Hogwarts as she began to get ready for bed, showering off the day and dressing in comfier clothes. For once, her homework load had been lightened to the point where she could put it off for a full day. Diffuser on, windows open, and sleeping clothes on, Y/N was ready and settled into bed early with nothing but her racing thoughts to keep her company.
Was Draco okay? Did something happen with his task? Where was he?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a light rap on her door.
“Y/N?” A young girl’s voice, muffled but distinguishable through the heavy wooden door shook her out of it. She groaned, throwing the blankets off her and closing her hand around the doorknob. She wasn’t even a prefect, but for some god-forsaken reason the first-years always went to her instead.
“Candace,” she greeted. “What’s cracking?”
“Someone wants to see you.” The first-year’s voice sounded shakier than usual. Y/N finally cast her eyes up from the short girl to take in the sight of a rather disheveled looking Draco Malfoy standing in her hallway.
“Draco? What are you doing here?” 
He cleared his throat. “Are you busy?”
“Candace,” Y/N said, addressing the eleven year old in front of her first, “Thanks for helping Draco. You should go to bed, you know. It’s late.”
Wide-eyed, Candace dashed off without any protest. Y/N cast a raised brow to Draco and tried to look like she hadn’t spent the past 12 hours obsessing over his disappearance. “You better have a good reason for showing up at my dorm in the middle of the night and scaring one of my first-years to death.”
“She wasn’t scared,” he argued.
“You must be horrible with reading children,” stated Y/N. “Anyways, is this a conversation that you want to have in my dorm hall? Or would you prefer to come inside?”
He tilted his head towards the doorway. “May I?”
“Er...sure. Come on in.” She bit back the quip about already offering. “What’s going on? You missed all your classes today.”
“I’m aware,” he responded drily as he sat down on the same spot she’d just been nearly asleep on. “I just...something happened last night. I didn’t know where else to go.”
Y/N tried not to blush at how flattered she was. He didn’t even like her. Why was she acting like that still? Friends did this sort of thing. Friends were there for each other. “Oh. Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want to just take your mind off of it?”
He seemed to ponder this for a moment before exhaling a deep sigh. “I don’t know. Maybe take my mind off it until I feel ready to talk about it.”
Y/N gave him a small smile, leading him by the cuff of his sleeve over to her window. “I think I know something we can do. Grab a pillow and a blanket.”
He did as she asked while she opened up the window wider until it was large enough to crawl through, spelling the tiles of the roof outside clean. 
“Are we going on the roof?”
“As long as you’re not too scared of heights, yeah,” she responded, using her desk as a stepping stool while she swung the rest of her body out on the old Hogwarts roof. Despite the age of the castle, the structure was thankfully sturdy. “Pass me anything you want out here. I’ll get it set up for us.”
“I’m not sitting on that dirty roof,” he said, his usual snotty tone creeping into his voice as he handed her a blanket for each of them. 
“Okayyy, Your Highness.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “We can sit on my blanket.” True to her word, she took the one she usually slept with and covered the tiles. “Will you come sit with me now?”
“Since you asked so nicely.” He settled in next to her, his own blanket barely draped over his knees while she sat cross legged at his side, trying not to shiver from the cold late winter air. “Wow. This is actually a better view than from the Astronomy tower.”
“I know, right?” she said, trying to ignore how her heart fluttered every time he looked at her. “You can see Hogsmeade from here, too.”
The pair watched the scenery before them in silence. Y/N drank in the landscape bathed in soft moonlight, the winding creeks leading into the Dark Forest reflecting the moon while the Black Lake’s waves gently lapped at the shores. 
“I come up here sometimes when I get stressed,” she confessed after a little while. Draco turned to look at her, his lips slightly quirked up and his eyes soft. 
“Yeah?”
“It just helps clear my head,” she continued. “I feel really lucky to live in the Tower. It must be kind of weird to know that if you opened your window you’d just flood your room.”
Draco snorted. “You get used to it.”
Y/N hummed in something that felt a little like agreement.
He shuffled, clearing his throat. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to tell you this since that night. I’m…sorry that I can’t give you what you want.”
“It’s really okay,” she said, her cheeks growing hot. “I understand. You can’t change how you feel. I’m happy to be your friend and eventually that’s all I’ll ever want.”
Draco dipped his head in a nod of acknowledgement when a brilliant display of lights suddenly exploded over Hogsmeade. Fireworks. They were obviously magic, charmed to glitter in the shape of the words, “Happy Birthday, Margie!”
“Oh my god, happy birthday Margie,” Y/N echoed, eager for the distraction of their conversation.
“I wonder how old she’s turning.”
“I bet she’s 34,” said Y/N. 
“32.”
“33, maybe, but that’s pushing it.”
She returned his grin before she felt something hit the top of her head--a raindrop, fat and cold--and roll down the back of her neck. “Shit. I think it’s going to rain soon. Do you want to go back in?”
As if to accentuate her point, the clouds above them rumbled. Draco shrugged. “If you want. I kind of like staying out here, though.”
“Me too.”
They sat in the quiet for a few more moments, the only sound coming from the soft patter of the rain and the occasional boom of Margie’s birthday fireworks. Y/N began to shiver as the raindrops became more frequent, her loose sleeping shirt and her shorts not really doing much for her. All of a sudden, she felt something fuzzy on top of her head.
She looked to her left to see that Draco had lifted his blanket to drape over both of them, creating a tent of some sort. “Thanks, Draco.”
“Don’t mention it.” His smile set off the butterflies in her stomach once again, but she beat them back. The fireworks continued, now switching to a glittering sage green. “I bet Margie was a Slytherin.”
“Or maybe she just likes sage green,” argued Y/N. 
“Maybe.” He held her gaze for what felt like a second too long before clearing his throat and turning his attention back onto the night sky. It occurred to her at that moment that they could’ve just transfigured the pillows they were sitting on into umbrellas, but traitorously, she didn’t want to mention it if it meant she lost her chance to be near him. 
She felt something lightly brush past the hand she had rested in the space between them but thought nothing of it, instead focusing on her breathing and making sure she didn’t sound like she was hyperventilating because she most certainly felt like she wanted to. She’d never shared her special roof spot with anyone, not even Harry or Ron. But he didn’t know that. 
The fireworks exploded with a crescendo of motion as multiple green sparkles were launched into the air, crackling and sparking with energy. At any other point in time, Y/N would’ve found it easy to focus on the beauty of the show, but something else caught her attention: the fact that Draco’s hand was now set directly next to hers, the edge of his touching her with the lightest of pressures. Every nerve ending in her left hand felt like it was burning with energy as Draco, without even sparing a glance in her direction, inched his hand over just enough for his pinky to overlap with hers.
Y/N tried to remember how to breathe as her thoughts ran wild. Friends touched hands sometimes. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe he didn’t even know it was her hand.
She heard Draco’s own breath hitch in his throat as his hand finally slipped under hers, intertwining their fingers and turning them so her hand rested in his palm. 
Friends held hands sometimes. There was nothing romantic about this. Nope. This was normal. Y/N’s frenzied thoughts were interrupted by Draco’s voice.
“You know how much danger my family is in,” he said, finally revealing what had him so shaken up. “Well, I got a letter from my mother last night. Apparently she’s been getting these strange, veiled threats. She can’t identify the owl and it seems like whoever this is is hell-bent on breaking into the manor. My aunt and the rest of the Death Eaters have been ridiculing her for even worrying about it.”
Y/N started to feel a guilty pit in her stomach. The letter her father sent her was beginning to make more sense. “Draco, that’s awful.”
“Do you think that maybe they’re the ones who are sending them to her?” he asked, his voice raising an octave at the end, flourished with a small crack in his tone. “As a way to rush me to the end of my task?”
Draco had slowly leaned into her as he told her his worries, and Y/N found herself gently squeezing his hand. “I’m so sorry you have to deal with this on top of everything else. This isn’t fair to you. Is there anything I can do to help you? Do you need help solving the cabinet?”
He shook his head, casting his gaze down to their hands. “Is it okay if I just stay here for a little?”
“Of course you can,” she said, immediately regretting her words. Having him around would only make her feel worse. Was this how he treated all of his friends? She held back an ill-timed chuckle at the thought of him holding hands with Goyle. 
“Thanks, Y/N.” His eyes were so light that she could still see the silver hue of them in the dark, reflecting what little moonlight found him under the blanket. “You know, I’m glad we had detention together. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Pansy kept badgering me all day about how she could help instead of actually listening and Blaise just told me that if I kept moping around he’d nab my mother himself.”
“Oh,” said Y/N. Jealousy surged through her as she thought again about Pansy. When she held hands with him, she probably never had to wonder what it meant. “Do they know about…”
“Not everything,” Draco clarified. “That’s just you. They just know about my current house guests. I haven’t told them any specifics.”
Another pang of guilt rattled through Y/N as she ran through the information she’d gotten the night prior in her head while he squeezed her hand back, his thumb running along her skin. She felt like the shame of not mentioning it earlier was burning her up.
“Draco, I need to tell you something.” The makeshift blanket tent all of a sudden felt like the most intimate location in the world as he turned to face her fully, now gripping her hand with two of his own and leaning closer, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. “What is it?”
“I…” She trailed off, squeezing her eyes shut as she mentally ran through the contents of the parchment on her desk. For a moment, all she could hear was the pounding of rain and Draco’s breathing. 
“If this is what I think it is, then I--”
“I’m not about to confess to you again literally right after being rejected,” she snipped back, pulling her hands from his grip in a moment of unexpected humiliation. “I’m not that stupid.”
Draco took his own hands, now empty, and folded them neatly on his thigh. He stopped meeting her eyes. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t--I wasn’t going to--”
“It’s--no, I’m sorry.” Y/N found herself angry that she gave up her excuse to hold his hand. “That was just a little embarrassing for me. I promise I won’t bring it up again. This is something totally different.”
“It’s okay. I understand.” To her surprise, there was no usual teasing lilt to his tone; he was being entirely genuine.
“I want you to know that we can call this off at any time,” she began, watching his blank expression carefully should it change, “But I hope you think about this.”
“Think about what?”
“I’m kidnapping your mom.” 
There. It was out. Draco’s mouth had long since fallen open, a look of mild horror on his face. “What the actual fuck?”
“Let me explain,” Y/N rushed. “The Order owes my family a favor. My mom knew yours. I may have mentioned something about the treatment towards her over the holidays and now my family is orchestrating a way to fake a kidnapping-turned-murder situation to get her out.”
He blinked at her.
“Of course we can call it off anytime you want,” Y/N repeated. She cast a quick Accio (something she was surprised worked considering how shaky she was) and summoned her father’s letter from her desk, thrusting it into his arms. “Read this. It has all the details.”
Draco scanned the document without a single word leaving his lips.
“You’re scaring me, Draco. What do you think?”
“You have an Italian beach cottage?” he asked. 
“Apparently so,” answered Y/N. “I’ve never been there, but we haven’t actually registered it through the British Ministry. If we hide your mother there, no one is going to be able to find her. She’s not required to give up information to the Order, either--I mean, we kind of hope that she will, but there’s no mandated amount of intel to keep her safe.”
“And I can…”
“Yes. After your task is straightened out, you can join her if you want.” She hardly finished her sentence before Draco’s arms pulled her into the tightest hug she’d ever been given in her life.
“I can’t believe you did that,” he mumbled, his voice strained. “How did you...wow. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” Her voice was muffled by his shoulder. “I’m just glad I could help.”
He finally pulled away, still keeping his hands gently placed on her forearms. She tried to keep her thoughts from straying too much as he gazed down at her, a slightly sad downturn in his lips. The way he was looking at her began to make her even more nervous.
“Well, it’s getting late,” she stated. “I want to get up early tomorrow so I’m not too late to Potions. Are you feeling better?”
Draco cleared his throat. “Er, yes. I suppose so. Thanks again, Y/N. I’m assuming this is when you kick me out?”
“Don’t say it like that.” She spelled her blanket clean from under him and stepped back into her room, turning to face him. “I’m just tired. That’s all. I’m glad you felt like you could come to me.”
He sent her a small smile before swinging his legs over the windowsill and making his way to the door. “I hope you have a good night. Sleep well.” He went in for another hug, but this time Y/N accidentally leaned the same direction as him, nearly crashing her lips into his.
“Shit, sorry,” she murmured as she quickly corrected herself to lean the other way--and was horrified to find that he had done the exact thing as well, barely dodging him this time and instead reeling herself back as far as his hold on her allowed. Draco let out a nervous laugh, letting her go and stepping away, rubbing the back of his neck. 
“Well. That was poorly timed considering the conversation we had,” he pointed out. What stellar observational skills.
“Er, yeah. Well…” Y/N held her hand out and immediately felt herself cringe. “Here’s to being good friends.”
He took her hand in his and tentatively shook it, a sort of half-smirk dancing on his lips as his eyebrow raised. “To being good friends. I’ll see you later.”
Then he was gone, and Y/N was able to flop back on her bed and frantically sort through her thoughts in peace. He’d almost--no, she’d almost--well, they both had almost kissed. As friends, though. Obviously.
This is ridiculous. She pulled a blanket up around her and immediately froze when she breathed in--black tea and sage, just as she remembered. She decided it was high time to switch her blankets anyways and tossed that one in the laundry bin.
~
“And then guess what she said?”
“Come on, we’re waiting,” Y/N said to Ron as they chattered over their cauldron in Potions together, flanked by the rest of her Gryffindor friends.
“Lavender said I’m obviously pining after Hermione because I keep asking her to study with me.”
“No!” came from Neville after a theatrical gasp. “She did not.” 
“She literally did, mate,” Harry cut in. “I saw it myself. Honestly, I think she might be onto something. I’ve always sensed some sort of tension between you two.”
“I think Harry’s right, as much as it pains me to say it,” she teased, giving her friend a little shove. Seamus had just opened his mouth to start talking when the sound of shattering glass prompted them all to whip around to face the Slytherin section. Draco Malfoy stood awkwardly clutching the broken remains of a glass vial in his hand like he was still in disbelief over what had occurred. 
“Malfoy, boy, is everything alright over there?” Slughorn asked from the front.
“Yes,” he said quickly, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know what happened.”
“You should sleep more,” the professor continued. “It’s harder to control your magic when you’re young and exhausted.”
Draco just nodded, his gaze turning over to meet Y/N’s worried one. She tilted her head, mouthing, “Are you okay?”. He sent her a tight smile and nodded, though Pansy sent her a very dirty look. 
“So that was weird,” said Y/N, turning back around to face Harry. “I haven’t broken glass by losing control of my magic since I was a kid.”
“One time I let a snake out in a muggle zoo,” said Harry, his eyes miles away as he traveled down memory lane.
“You what now?”
“I can’t believe I never told you that.”
“I think I would’ve remembered that. What’d you do, whisper in its ear about how the only thing it has to lose is its chains or something until he was motivated enough to escape?”
Harry laughed. “No. I vanished the glass. And then it thanked me, which was horribly alarming for a kid who had no idea what magic was.”
“You poor, poor thing,” she mocked before Slughorn dismissed them and they began to make their way together down the hall. “Suffering from success.”
Harry chuckled, and Y/N felt a surge of affection for the fact that they were friends once again. “Basically the story of my life. Anyways, I’m off to see Snape.”
“Merlin, are you okay?” asked Y/N, holding her hand to his forehead and miming the motion of checking for a fever. “On your own time?”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s alright,” he said, suddenly looking more somber. “I’m just serving detention for what happened in the bathroom. I am still very sorry about that, you know. If you wanted to curse me to get back at me, I’d understand.”
She shoved him forward, a smile dancing on her lips as she said, “Go on, suffer for my honor.” Then she felt a hand pull her back into an empty, dark classroom. 
“Let go of me!” she exclaimed, twisting around to try and see the person who had grabbed her.
“Boo,” whispered a familiar voice in her ear. 
“Draco, you do realize you could just talk to me in the halls like a normal goddamn person,” she chided, finally being released from his grip so she could give him a stern look. He only shrugged, a slightly impish look displayed across his features.
“But it’s more fun this way.”
She tried her hardest to frown at him, but it was honestly difficult when he was smiling at her the way he was. “So, what’s up? Did something happen?”
“Nothing really,” he admitted. “I just know that we both have free periods. Do you want to spend it together?”
Friends, friends, friends, friends, friends Y/N chanted in her head. He’s only saying this as a platonic thing.
“I guess I don’t really have anything better to do,” she teased. Despite her light hearted tone, she couldn’t help but notice the shift in Draco’s behavior. In a matter of days, he was looking more like himself than he had all year--the color finding its way back into his cheeks, the corners of his eyes crinkling up when he smiled, the food on his plate in the Great Hall actually being eaten. 
If there was one thing that Y/N was quickly learning about Draco, it was that under all of his snobbery, he was endearingly weird. He’d memorized all of the captains of the Slytherin Quidditch team, read everything there was in the library about alchemy, and always sent her the dorkiest fucking waves whenever their eyes met. 
So, in spirit of Draco’s newly recovered persona, Y/N spent the rest of her free period sitting in the empty classroom and chatting with him about a whole load of nothing. They’d both sat on top of adjacent desks, and sometimes Y/N would swing her feet so she kicked his shin. He’d always promptly return the favor.
“So,” she said after a while, “Have you been thinking about what I told you? My family’s plan, and all?”
He was quiet for a few seconds, his gaze cast down to his hands. “A little. I guess I’m just a little confused about what I should do with my task or when all of this is going to happen.”
“I’m only asking because I’ve been thinking about it,” confessed Y/N. “I think I’ve figured out what you should do with your task. If you want to, that is.”
“I’m listening.”
“We’ve already established that You-Know-Who has nothing to hold over your head without your mother at stake,” began Y/N, searching his face to find agreement, “But it’s going to look suspicious if you suddenly stop sending progress reports.”
Draco reached his hand up to scratch his cheek. “One problem, though. I don’t think I’ll be able to repair the cabinet. I’ve hit a complete dead end anyways.”
“That’s fine,” said Y/N. “That doesn’t matter. Fake the progress reports. I don’t think that you should fix it at all, to be honest. I think you should leave it broken and still invite Bellatrix and her friends to travel through it.”
“And kill them?!”
“Or maim them,” offered Y/N. “I know it’s not ideal, but I think that if I tweaked the cabinet’s lunar belt just right, I might be able to control how the space-time continuum is warped and simply incapacitate them so the Order can take them into custody. Of course, the dark magic as an element may throw a curveball, but it’s worth a shot. And if you do this, it’ll mean that the Order will trust you more.”
“Hm.” Draco caught his bottom lip on his teeth while he shut his eyes, obviously stewing over everything. “That’s quite the risk.”
“I can run it by my family to get their thoughts on it,” she offered. “But the only caveat is that I have to mention what you’re trying to do.”
His eyes shot open. “Maybe don’t mention the part where I’ve already made more than one attempt on the headmaster’s life if we end up going down that route.”
Y/N shrugged. “The Order might already know. Isn’t Snape onto you?”
“He’s not ‘onto me’, he was instructed to help--” Draco stopped in his tracks as he stared at her. “Wait, what?”
“Oh,” she said, both of them frozen as they realized what they’d revealed to each other. “Erm...forget I mentioned that.”
“Yeah, probably a good idea,” he mumbled, sending a half-hearted kick at her. “Let’s change the subject.”
“Love it,” she said absentmindedly. “Anyways, will you go to Slug’s Valentine party with me next weekend? As friends, of course. He wants all of us to bring dates and I don’t know who else to ask.”
Draco looked like he was glowing. “Really? You wouldn’t bring Potter?”
“Eh,” she responded. “I’m pretty sure he’s going with Ginny. Plus, I see him around the common room enough as it is.” Y/N waited a few moments. “So? Are you in?”
He shook himself out of what looked to be a weirdly stupified state. “Er, of course. Just let me know when you need me.”
The Hogwarts bells began to chime outside, signifying that the third period block was beginning. 
“Saturday at 8,” said Y/N, turning to leave. “You can meet me in front of the Great Hall.”
“I’ll just walk you from your dorm.”
“Then you have to be there earlier.”
Draco shrugged. “I don’t mind. Anyways, I’m off to Runes. Enjoy Divination.” He bumped her shoulder as he walked past, sending a thrill through Y/N. How had he even known that she had Divination? That was one of the few classes they didn’t share, and she probably just mentioned it in passing once. 
Then again, they were friends. And just because Ron and Hermione hadn’t memorized her schedule, it didn’t mean that Draco was the same kind of friend.
Things only got more confusing as time went on. Draco found any excuse to talk to her, especially when she was with Harry. If he were any other boy, Y/N would’ve immediately assumed the obvious: that he had a crush on her and was jealous. But, obviously, that was impossible. He’d told her upfront that he didn’t have any feelings for her. So why was his behavior so different after that night they spent together on the roof? 
It got even weirder on Friday. Draco once again pulled her away from a conversation with Harry to shove a little box in her hands.
“What’s this, Draco?” she asked, frowning as she turned it around in her hand.
“It’s just something I thought you might like,” he muttered, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Her interest piqued, Y/N opened the box.
“A quidditch bracelet?” Y/N gulped as she looked down at the enchanted diamonds, each glittering with a gentle silver pigment--as well as a slight lavender purple sheen. This was not a normal gift to give to your school friend. This was at least a few thousand galleons--probably even more, considering the enchantments that made the stones glow. Even her considerably wealthy family wouldn’t buy her one because of her horrid track record with jewelry.
He shrugged. “I picked it up while I was at Barnaby’s a bit ago. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want. I remembered I had it when you asked me to Slug’s party and I thought I’d see if you’d be interested.”
“Erm,” said Y/N, stammering, “I’ve never gotten a gift like this from someone before.”
“Believable.” Draco snorted. “Take it and do me a favor. It’s not like I’d wear it. It might as well be appreciated by someone.”
“It’s beautiful, it really is. I’m just worried because I have a bit of a habit of forgetting I’m wearing jewelry and breaking it….”
“I assumed. That’s why I charmed it to be unbreakable,” said Draco quickly. “If you don’t want to wear it, I won’t be offended. I’m just offering.”
Y/N couldn’t help but be thankful that the abandoned classroom he’d pulled her into was dark. Otherwise, he might’ve seen how red her cheeks were. “I guess we’ll figure out how strong your unbreaking enchantments are shortly.”
“Is this your way of saying yes?”
“Help me put it on, will you?” 
She could see dimples form in his cheeks as he allowed a small, close lipped smile to spread across his face while he unclasped the bracelet from the box and gently turned her arm so her palm faced up to the sky. His touch lingered over her skin for a few seconds. Y/N had to remind herself to breathe.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said, his voice suddenly low, “About what we talked about last time we were here. About the cabinet, and the Order…”
“Yeah?”
“I think I want to do it,” he said firmly, finally pulling his hands away from her arm and tossing the empty wrapping into his pocket. “Just tell me what you need from me.”
“Nothing yet, really. Just your consent to tell my family about your task. I’ll let you know if they want anything else.” Though Y/N’s response was truthful and concise, her mind was elsewhere as she came to a depressing realization. He wasn’t giving her the quidditch bracelet because he secretly liked her and wanted to spoil her or whatever. He was doing it as a thank you for what she was doing for him and his mother. An elaborate gift for an even more elaborate favor. 
“That’s easy enough,” Draco mused. “In the meantime, I’ll keep sending progress reports.”
“Good plan,” said Y/N, her voice a little deflated. “Thank you again for the bracelet. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She left the classroom and spent the rest of her night stewing over the poor decisions she’d made regarding her emotions over the past week. She knew about the effect that Draco had over her, yet she still invited him to Slug’s party like an idiot. And then she’d let herself get her hopes up over dumb little things like the way he looked at her in class or the quidditch bracelet when he was really just being a friend trying to pay her back for a big favor. 
Saturday night was going to be rough if she couldn’t get her feelings in line.
~
At 7:50 sharp, Y/N waited by the portrait of the Fat Lady. Peeves wailed above her as she tried to practice slow breathing--in for 5 seconds, out for 5 seconds. I am in control of my feelings. I control my own reality.
Then she saw him, and all of the work she’d done trying to quell the butterflies in her stomach at the thought of him amounted to nothing. He looked breathtaking. Y/N bit her tongue as she tried to violently beat back the thoughts of all the things she wanted him to do to her. 
“You look nice,” he said smoothly once he was close enough for it to be socially acceptable. Her mouth went completely dry as she drank in the sight of him in an all-black suit.
“Thanks. So do you.” She internally congratulated herself for getting through that without stumbling over her words too much. Gingerly, she pushed herself off her position of leaning on the wall and began to walk alongside him.
As they ascended the steps, her heel teetered. She reached for Draco’s hand in a moment of sheer panic--and, surprisingly, he latched onto her and held her up. 
“Didn’t your parents ever tell you to not wear shoes you couldn’t walk in?” he said, amused. He didn’t move to let go of her hand. 
“Don’t be rude, Malfoy,” she fired back.  
“You’re not wearing it,” he noted. His lips slightly turned into a frown as he cast his eyes downwards.
Y/N stared at him, her mind barely functioning at this point. “What?” 
“The bracelet,” he said, letting go of her hand to motion to her wrist.
“Oh,” she responded lamely. In truth, she’d tossed it into his quill box while she was in the throes of self-pity over the whole ordeal of unrequited feelings, but she could hardly tell him that. “I took it off to shower and it took too long to put back on.”
“You know, you could’ve just asked me to help again,” he said with a teasing lilt. “I’d only judge you a little.”
She smiled, grateful he wasn’t pushing it any further. “Ever the gentleman. I’ll keep that in mind next time.”
They made it to the fifth floor in no time. Slughorn only seemed slightly concerned with the presence of Draco, but he didn’t say anything to Y/N. As she expected, Hermione and Ron gave her a little bit of side-eye once they saw her choice of a date, but neither of them brought it up and even spoke to her for a little--though they never verbally acknowledged Malfoy. While she was constantly overanalyzing the little things that Draco was doing--the way he offered her a sip of his drink when she spaced out on the way his hands looked holding it for too long, the way he was always touching her in some way, whether it be a hand on her lower back or a lingering grip on her waist--she couldn’t help but feel overcome with the relief that her friends seemed somewhat accepting of her new friendship with Draco. 
Then Harry opened his mouth. 
“Malfoy,” he greeted through gritted teeth. 
“Potter.”
Ginny met her slightly panicked gaze with one of her own. To her surprise, though, Harry just flicked his gaze to where Draco’s hand was lightly poised on her waist, raising an eyebrow. “Congratulations for finally being honest with her. I always thought Y/N deserved a bloke who outright admitted his feelings. I never thought I’d say this, but maybe that is you after all.”
Draco’s hand immediately dropped. “Do me a favor and bugger off.”
“Or maybe I’m wrong,” replied Harry, looking Draco up and down with possibly the pettiest look she’d ever seen on a wizard before. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”
“That was weird,” said Y/N, though she secretly revelled in the fact that Harry was picking up on something too.
“I suppose.” Draco slid off one of his rings, running his fingertips over the ridges of his family crest.
“Hey, are you okay?” asked Y/N, placing a hand on his shoulder. 
He nodded. “I’m fine. Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve just never really been a party person.”
“I imagine it’s probably not helping that Harry’s here,” she said, giving his arm a little squeeze before releasing him. “Do you want to just get out of here? I think we’ve been here for long enough to justify ditching.” His grateful smile told her everything. “I had a feeling. Where do you want to go?”
He pondered this for a bit. “I’m not sure. Anywhere but here.”
“Anywhere but here” quickly turned into his dorm as they wordlessly made their way down to the dungeons, passing by Marvin the raven outside Snape’s stores. Y/N’s pulse sped up every time their hands brushed--which seemed to happen far, far too often for it to be accidental on either of their ends. 
“I can’t believe you broke in there,” he said finally, chuckling as the raven cooed at her appreciatively. “And just for me? I’m flattered.”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t mention it,” grumbled Y/N. Obviously she’d done it just for him--she was hopelessly obsessed with him. He knew that. She found herself profoundly grateful that she’d been under the influence of Veritaserum that time instead of now--if she’d had so much as a drop of truth serum, she’d spend the entire night telling him how much she wanted him. “Anyways, I’m sorry for how weird Harry was back there. I don’t get why he feels the need to make assumptions about everything.”
Draco hummed, tapping his fingers on her wrist. Just friends, just friends, you’re just friends. Merlin fucking damnit, why did he have such nice hands? “I don’t know. He was certainly sure about it.”
“And I have no clue why,” Y/N said, pretending like she was in disbelief instead of acute pain. “I know you don’t see me like that. I’m not really sure where he’s getting that from.”
“Oh?” Draco let his hand fall, a weird tone coming over his voice. “You aren’t?”
“Well, I remember what you said,” she said matter-of-factly, trying her hardest not to read into the way he was staring at her, watching every fidget of her hands. “It’s not like I’d be self-loathing enough to expect anything different.”
He let out a huff of frustration. “Y/L/N, honestly. I sent you a box of special Wurgie’s lavender chocolates on Valentine’s day. I spend all of my free periods talking to you.”
“Ok?” Y/N couldn’t help but be taken aback by how argumentative his tone was becoming. “I suppose I see how Harry could read into that. But I have to spend my free periods with someone, right? And sometimes I get my friends chocolate on Valentine’s day too.”
“I bought you a whole enchanted quidditch bracelet. It’s the only one of its kind,” he snipped, obviously becoming more agitated. “I spent an entire day trying to find the right unbreaking spell. My father literally wrote to me from Azkaban to ask me why the Gringotts bank statement recorded me taking out that many galleons at once. He thought someone had broken into our account.”
“He doesn’t know that.” Y/N was becoming keenly aware of how close he was standing to her now that they’d stopped walking, her back a few inches from the wall as he leaned into her space. “Even if I had worn it out, there’s no way he could’ve known it was from you.”
“That’s not what I’m--” he began waspishly before clearing his throat and collecting himself. “I’m just saying, those things aren’t exactly platonic.”
“Okay,” said Y/N slowly, trying to turn her thoughts away from how soft his lips looked, “I’ll concede that some things that we do can be read as something more than friendship. But I know how you feel. You told me.”
He wet his lips. “Do you actually think I care about whatever goes in that dim brain of his?”
“Normally, no. But considering the fact that we just had an argument over it, then maybe I’m incorrect in assuming.”
“Well, I don’t,” he said, his voice suddenly quiet. He was close enough that she could smell the traces of that expensive cologne he always wore that reminded her of loose leaf lapsang souchong and fresh parchment. “And I was never trying to argue with you about his perception. I was talking about my actual intentions.”
“What?” Y/N choked out as she tentatively glanced up to see his jaw set. Her heart was pounding so hard it must’ve been audible. What the hell was he talking about?
Instead of answering, Draco gently reached up to her shoulders, walking her back until she was pinned up against the wall. His other hand came to tilt her chin so their eyes met. She would’ve been deceived into thinking he was confident by his unwavering stare, but she’d felt how his hands were slightly unstable. “Merlin, are you going to make me spell it out for you? How many different ways am I going to need to tell you?”
In the end, she wasn’t quite sure who it was who closed the gap--just that, at some point, one of them did, and that she was all of a sudden kissing Draco Malfoy with a fervor that she didn’t know she had in her. His mouth was hot against hers as he pressed her up further into the wall, his knee rising between her thighs to prop her up.
In the recesses of the back of her mind, it vaguely registered that this didn’t add up with what he told her the last night they spent together--but she decided to brush all those concerns off to the nebulous concept of later when his hands tangled into her hair.
The sound of footsteps and students giggling echoed down the corridor, making the pair jump apart. Y/N wiped her lips, trying to fix the smear of her lipstick as Draco frantically straightened out his tie that she’d tugged loose. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t make herself meet his eyes. 
“Do you still want to go back to my dorm?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 
She dared to look up at him, not expecting the sight of his pupils blown out and his cheeks slightly rosy. “If that’s okay, yeah.”
Neither of them attempted to make conversation as he led her through the empty Slytherin common room. She could feel her heart crawling into her throat. She’d never gone to a boy’s dorm before other than during the Veritaserum incident--sure, she’d kissed some boys before, she’d even gone to the Yule Ball with a cute Beauxbatons boy--but she didn’t know how this worked. Was she supposed to immediately start kissing him the moment his bedroom door was closed? Was she supposed to be kissing him now? Was she supposed to be kissing him at all after that?
They made it into his bedroom before Y/N could come to a decision on her next action, so she decided to just not make any moves. Fuck, that was almost worse. Where would she sit? At his desk? No, who the fuck does that? Next to him on his bed? No, too suggestive. Just stand by the door? Merlin, no. She wished that the ground would just open up and swallow her whole so she could sit back in her dorm and think about the way he’d kissed her in private. 
“So,” said Draco. 
“So,” echoed Y/N, finally giving in and sinking down onto the bed next to him. 
“So, I take it that you still like me?” A small smirk danced on his lips. 
Her cheeks blushed into a furious red. “Draco, please don’t make this any more embarrassing than it has to be.”
“What are you...huh?” He shifted so he was on his side, propping up his chin with his palm as he studied her with agonizing attention. “Why would it be embarrassing when I was the one who kissed you?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe the fact that this isn’t the first time? And the fact that I’m waiting for you to tell me you didn’t mean it again?”
“You think I didn’t mean that?” Draco’s eyebrows raised. “Do I need to do it again to get it through that thick skull of yours?”
“I--what--don’t be rude,” she stuttered. 
He rolled his eyes but didn’t lose the upturn of his lips. “I guess so. I suppose I was planning on it anyway.” 
All her nervousness melted away as Draco edged closer, the coolness of his rings pressing pleasantly into her neck. Instead of kissing her immediately like she expected, he traced the outline of her neck up to her ear where he wound his fingers into her hair, finally leaning in so their lips met. 
His skin was soft against hers as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss and pulling her into his lap, his fingers spanning the width of her waist and twisting in the satiny fabric of her dress. When she was out of breath and the pillow she was next to was beginning to get pushed dangerously close to the edge, she finally broke the kiss. 
“Can’t you just tell me how you feel with your words?” she prompted.
“Isn’t it obvious?” said Draco. 
“I thought it was obvious last time.”
“Well, it was. That was before I knew that I was relieved of my task,” he explained, his grip around her waist tightening to tug her ever closer. 
“Why would that matter?”
“Because,” he began, a slightly exasperated look in his eye, “If I had my task and my mother was still at stake, I would’ve had to go back home over the summer. And You-Know-Who would see you in my memories. Plus, I think that being a full-time Death Eater makes it very difficult to be a good boyfriend to someone who’s best friends with Harry Potter. That would complicate things. I knew that if I told you I felt the same way I wouldn’t be able to say no to you.”
“So…” She swallowed. “Does this mean that you’ve liked me all along? Like, from the start?”
“What do you think?” he drawled, his fingers ghosting over the zipper of her dress. “Do you think I just go around kissing random girls in my bed?”
“Well, what about Pansy?”
“Yeah, actually, what about her?” he asked, a little glimmer appearing in his eye. “We haven’t been together since, what, the middle of 5th year? I talk to her as much as I talk to any of my other Slytherin friends. I don’t know what’s got you so up in arms over her.”
“She obviously isn’t over you,” Y/N pointed out. “I just know it.”
“And? I’m over her.” He gave her a knowing look. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”
“I didn’t know!” she exclaimed. “I thought that maybe there was something. It’s not like I’m keenly aware of the Slytherin social going-ons.” 
“Sheesh, so defensive,” he tutted, his thumbs now rubbing circles into her shoulders. “It’s almost like you like me or something.”
“Draco!” She swatted at him, but he caught her hand in midair and kissed each of her knuckles, giving her an almost sheepish look. It was all she could do to keep her laughs from getting too loud as he dropped her hand and swept towards her again, kissing her fully. 
Before she knew it, they were rolled over so he was on top of her, hovering over her with his elbows supporting his weight as he pressed warm, open-mouthed kisses along the bare curve of her neck. She closed her eyes and let a soft sigh escape her as his lips drags across the spot under her ear, pushing up further into him.
“You liked that, huh?” He looked far too pleased with himself.
“Shut up,” she said, reaching up to thread her fingers lightly through his hair. It was just as soft as she imagined it to be. Something possessed her to wind her fingers through the locks on the back of his neck and close them into a fist, awarding her with a sharp intake of air from Draco. “You liked that, huh?” she mocked.
He rolled his eyes, muttering a “fucking hell” so quietly that she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to hear it. Despite the exasperation in his tone, his mouth was still fixed in an upturn as he looked down at her, his eyes soft. She couldn’t help but move up to kiss him again, and again, and again, until her lungs were screaming for air and her neck was cramping from the angle.
She let her head fall back onto his down comforter, taking in the sight of Draco with swollen, well-kissed lips. 
“What?” He tilted his head as he regarded her.
“I just love you like this,” she said shyly. “Oh, Merlin, wait, I didn’t mean it like…”
Draco let out a chuckle. “It’s okay. I know what you meant. I love you like this, too. You’re not as difficult.” He rolled off of her, taking a moment to shed his dress coat and pull off his tie.
When he was close enough again, she rewarded his tolerance with a smile and a delicate, nervous kiss on his collarbone, dragging her teeth over his skin for just a moment. The hand that was placed on her back scrunched up the material of her dress as Draco’s breath caught. 
“Your hands are bloody cold,” he complained as her fingers wound themselves under his dress shirt, exploring the new expanse of exposed alabaster skin.  
“Do you want me to stop?” she asked, pulling away and letting go for just a second before he grabbed her wrists together and hauled her back.
 “No.”
“I’ve never…”
“That’s okay,” he said as she settled back onto his lap, reveling in the soft way that he was treating the skin that was exposed by her dress. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”
“I’m just scared,” she suddenly choked out. Where did that come from? “I want you, now, but I don’t want to wake up tomorrow to you telling me that you can’t do this or that you didn’t like it or…” She trailed off, distracted by the way he firmly tapped the outer edge of her thigh.
“I’m not going to do that to you,” he said. “I promise. I made that mistake once. Plus, the burden of the performance is kind of on me anyways, so there’s nothing to be nervous about if that’s a hold up.”
She snorted. “Don’t make me change my mind, Malfoy.” 
Despite her words, the corners of his eyes crinkled. “I mean it. If you want to just lie there that’s fine. As long as you enjoy it, it’ll be great for me.” His hand came up to gingerly brush away the pieces of hair that had fallen in her face before dropping to gently toy with the top of her zipper again--a question. Wordlessly, she allowed herself to be helped out of the garment, letting it fall to the ground before turning back to attack the buttons on Draco’s chest. He made an amused sound as she struggled, eventually unsheathing his wand and opening it up in a second.
“I could’ve done that, you know,” she said rather defensively.
“Yes, yes, I know,” he said, hardly masking his teasing tone. “You’re very capable. Now come here.”
 And so she did.
The idea of sex had always been scary to Y/N. Someone, especially someone attractive enough for her to want to sleep with him, seeing her fully exposed made her want to freeze up and dive under her blankets. But that was before Draco. Somewhere, hidden deep in the back of her brain, lay an anxious switch that flicked off as soon as she was pinned under him with his knee pushing up to part her legs. She no longer felt like she had to be self-conscious--despite how intimidated she was by him, she’d never felt more adored. 
Y/N learned three surprising things about Draco in the span of that night: one, that in some places his skin felt like crushed velvet under her fingers; two, that he melted in her hands when she pressed her lips to the sensitive spot on his neck; and three, that he had a freckle under his jaw. And on his left shoulder. And at the spot where his thigh met his torso.
“What are you thinking about?” he murmured to her after they’d slumped together, his duvet haphazardly flung over their bodies while his fingers traced patterns on her back.
“I’m just so glad you feel the same way,” she admitted. “I thought I was going crazy over your actions not lining up with your words. It was driving me insane.”
Draco let out a little laugh. “I thought it was painfully obvious.”
“Remember when you tripped up the stairs that time you walked with me after detention?”
“Remember when you tripped up the stairs today?”
“You’re ruining this,” she said sourly as she swatted his chest.
Instead of responding, he just snatched her hand and held it hostage. “I’m not the one resorting to physical violence. Which, now that I think of it, is pretty commonplace for you.”
“Hey! If I hadn’t thrown the york pudding at Pansy, we wouldn’t be here right now.”
Draco was silent for a few moments.
“You know I’m right,” she pressed. To her surprise, he shifted uncomfortably under her.
“I’m not so sure,” he finally admitted.
“Huh?” Her features flooded with confusion. “What does that mean?”
“I mean, I’m lucky it worked out like this,” he said hesitantly. “And...so soon. You hated me.”
She sat up, pulling away from his embrace and folding her knees under her. “What are you talking about?” 
“I dunno.” Draco refused to meet her eyes, his fingers instead playing with the edges of his sheets. “This is probably stupid, but do you remember the time we brewed Amortentia in Slughorn’s class?”
She nodded. 
“You told me that it reminded you of a memory,” he continued, “And that you knew you had to have danced with them at some point.”
“I’m aware.” Y/N blinked down at him as she tried to piece the puzzle together.
He finally flicked his gaze up to meet her eyes. “I guess you don’t remember it, but in fourth year we danced together once. I’d never talked to you before--I knew you were friends with Potter and the like--but I just never really stopped thinking about it since.”
“This is so embarrassing,” said Y/N. “How do I not remember?”
He shrugged. “I think you were a little tipsy at the time. I did, though. I’ve never forgotten.”
“Then why were you so mean to my friends?”
“I stopped for the most part,” he pointed out. “And, if you’ll notice, it was mostly towards Harry.”
“I thought that was because he’s the Chosen One.”
“No, it’s because I could see that he liked you and I was jealous. Eventually I just gave up around 5th year, around when I started dating Pansy. I didn’t think there was a chance in hell that I was ever going to be able to be with you, especially not after getting my task.” 
“Oh,” Y/N said as she mulled over this information. “My story isn't as romantic. I suppose I’ve always had a little crush on you too, but I was definitely in denial. I just always found you ridiculously attractive and tragically funny considering what you used to support.”
He glowed down at her, pressing the pad of his thumb into her cheek. “Well, I’m glad I can finally give you what you deserve.”
“Me too.”
~
The weeks began to pass faster after that. Draco never really struck Y/N as a PDA type of guy, but he was surprisingly affectionate. When they began to brew potions together again, he was quick to tuck away her hair behind her ear when she was looking over the cauldron and sent her sweet, private smiles that made her heart flutter. He even sat with her every once in a while at the Gryffindor table when the trio was busy doing whatever they had to do to save the world. Y/N pretended to not notice the whispers that were elicited from her peers when Draco would casually touch her.
They spent as many nights together as they could, but considering how often her friends were giving her dirty looks for stumbling into Potions after not being seen in the Gryffindor Tower for the past day, they had to be reasonable, cutting it down to three or four nights a week. 
Y/N treasured every moment she had with Draco, even when they were fleeting and in between classes. She learned everything she could about him--how he was actually terrified of snakes, how he preferred his tea black, how he had an elaborate morning routine he hardly ever deviated from--and committed it all to mind. Her favorite version of him in her head was the way he looked when he was between her sheets, fast asleep with his arms draped over her. Whenever she woke up before him, she tried to memorize it.
He was absolutely ridiculous with the kind of gifts he gave her. Y/N swore that one day she’d wake up to find that he’d bought the British crown jewels because he “saw them” and “just thought of her”. She now had enough Barnaby’s quills to rival the number of feathers on the country’s entire population of geese, but instead of feeling overwhelmed with gratitude, all Y/N could feel was the impending doom that, one day, those gifts would be the only thing she had left of him. He seemed to know this, too.
Draco always found some kind of reason to pull her away and kiss her senseless, whether it be behind a tapestry or in a broom closet when Filch heard them walking around the castle after curfew. In a way, it was like they were just normal teenagers, enjoying the thrill of the moment and acting out. When she thought of it like that, it made the inevitable events seem more bearable; at least they had some time together.
The letter came with no more context than just a simple “Tomorrow.” Y/N knew exactly what it meant--Narcissa Malfoy was going to finally be taken from the manor. Bellatrix needed to be convinced over the next 24 hours to enter the Borgin & Burke’s Vanishing Cabinet as a distraction, and Y/N needed to be sure of her work on the cabinet.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been here,” Y/N mused absentmindedly as she sat in front of the cabinet. Draco’s head rested on her shoulder after recounting all of the changes he’d made. “That was clever, switching out the conductor clasp with a copper fitting.”
He smiled, pressing a kiss into her shoulder. “I’m not totally daft, you know.”
“Of course I know,” she said, her voice dropping into a soft murmur. Fingers pressed into the soft flesh of her thigh as he pulled her onto him. “Draco, I have to fix this first. Then we can do whatever you’d like.”
“Hm,” was all he said, burying his face in her neck once again and letting out a deep sigh.
“Are you worried?”
He was still for a few moments before dipping his head slightly in a nod.
“You’ll be okay,” she promised, winding his fingers through hers. “I’ll make sure of that.”
“I should be comforting you, not the other way around,” he said softly. “I dragged you into this.”
“I pushed myself into this,” she corrected. “And, plus, it’s not my mother on the line. It’s okay to care, you know.”
Y/N got up, making her way towards the cabinet and meeting his eyes once. They shared a knowing glance as she brandished her wand and whispered a quick fracturing spell, sending cracks down the eastern side of the lunar belt. Her hand shook as she shrank back onto the couch until his arms found her shoulders and turned her towards him. “I can’t believe I just...I just did that.”
Instead of responding, he simply sat up straight and delicately pressed his lips to her forehead, his hand coming around to cradle her for just a moment. “Let’s get out of here.” 
“Out of here” once again turned into Draco’s dorm room.
“I can’t believe this will all be over tomorrow,” Draco said, his back turned as he loosened his Slytherin tie. “I’m going to be gone by Sunday morning.”
“Yeah.” Y/N tried not to let the lump in her throat garner too much attention at the thought of losing Draco into what was essentially the Order’s witness protection program. 
He seemed to notice her uncharacteristic silence, frowning at his reflection before making his way towards her and diligently pressing kisses on her cheeks. Instead of grabbing onto his sleeve cuffs and pulling him closer like she usually did, she just let out a tiny sigh and kept her eyes fixed on the tie slung over his shoulder. 
“Hey,” he murmured, moving so she had to look at him. 
“Hey.” She sent him a watery smile, hoping that he couldn’t see how close she was to tears. 
“What’s wrong?”
Y/N just shook her head, anchoring her bottom lip with her teeth so she didn’t choke up. “It’s nothing.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Don’t pull that with me. I’m not falling for that. I’m going to ask again. What’s wrong?” His hand came up to pull her chin up again so their eyes were level, his eyebrows raised in expectation.
Y/N tried to tell him; she really did. It wasn’t her fault that the most pathetic sounding sob of her life came out of her mouth instead of a confession. Instead of asking any more questions or trying to get her to talk, Draco just pulled her into his arms and held her there, letting her weep into him. His hands came up to rub her back as she struggled to breathe normally.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” he whispered, breaking the silence. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
“This isn’t about me,” said Y/N miserably. “It’s about you. What if something happens to you while we’re apart? What if I don’t get to see you again?”
Draco made a small sound in his throat, almost like he was holding back a sob himself. “Y/N, don’t worry about me, okay? It’ll all be alright, love. Don’t worry.”
Despite the fact that Draco was doing his best to comfort her, Y/N knew one thing for sure: his word couldn’t stand against fate, and if he were meant to die or disappear during the time that he was hidden away in Italy, there was nothing either of them could do about it.
She turned her head and found herself pressing her lips to his with so much desperation that she hardly even noticed the few stray tears that had made their way down her cheeks. He met her with much more tenderness, his fingers gently brushing away the wetness on her cheeks. For someone as cocky as Draco, he could be so shy when he kissed her, almost like he expected her to change her mind halfway through. 
“I don’t want this to be over,” she whispered as she pulled away, leaving the slightest gap between their lips. 
He cupped her face, his eyes shining. “It’s not over. We have a few hours left.”
To her horror, another strangled gasp left her lips. Draco had her tucked into his arms in an instant, his lips pressing into her hairline. “It’s not over, okay? I just don’t want to hold you back if you aren’t allowed to see me. Don’t wait around for me.”
“I don’t care,” choked out Y/N. “I’d wait forever if it meant I got to have you.”
“I know,” he murmured. “But it’s not fair of me to expect that from you. I don’t know how long this war is going to last.”
“I don’t care about fairness,” whispered Y/N. “I just want you.”
They spent the rest of the night tangled together in his sheets, just waiting for the morning to come. Neither one got any sleep. Instead, Y/N entertained herself by playing with his hands and asking him questions about his childhood--anything to keep her from remembering what was in store for both of them.
It had been decided earlier that Y/N would have no part in the cabinet plan after they ran the information by the Order. Actually, it was decided that she’d have no part in anything beyond just bringing the situation of Narcissa Malfoy to attention. “It’s crucial to your safety that you don’t connect yourself and by extension our family to this,” one of her father’s earlier letters had read. “Doing so puts you and everyone you love in jeopardy.”
That evening, just as dusk set in, she stood with Draco in her dorm for what was the last time, shaking with unshed tears. He just clung to her for the first few minutes, her head tucked under his chin as his hands were clasped around her back. 
“Give me your hand,” he said finally. “I want you to have something.”
She felt something slide on her thumb, her eyes widening as she realized what it was--his family ring.
“Draco…”
“I probably shouldn’t have this on me, anyways,” he explained. “And I want you to have something of mine, something that’s really mine, not just a gift. Just...maybe don’t wear it in public, and if you do wear it as a necklace charm or something. The last thing I want is you to get connected to this--”
Y/N cut off his rambling by pressing her lips to his, his hand feeling oddly bare as it came up to touch her cheek. “If anything happens to you, I love you. I hope you know that.”
He smiled, then kissed her again--so long that it seemed like he was savoring every moment of 
it before finally stepping away. “You know I love you. Always will.”
She managed to fit in one last kiss before he left.
Monday turned into Tuesday which turned into Wednesday which turned into the next week. Before she knew it, her 6th year was almost over. Neither Draco nor Narcissa had contacted her. The Order had been cagey about the details leading to the Malfoys--while she obviously had a general idea as to the location of her Italian vacation home and thus by extent the Malfoys, she hadn’t heard anything about their travels there. All she’d heard was the basic news that everyone had--that Bellatrix Lestrange had been found dead and that the Ministry had taken both Fenrir Greyback and Antonin Dolohov into custody with near fatal injuries.
But that didn’t make her miss him any less. Y/N found herself longing for the nostalgic, innocent time when she shamelessly flirted with him in detention and only worried about whether or not the Trio would like her again. It all seemed so long ago. 
Falling asleep was the worst. She couldn’t smell the lavender of her diffuser or her room spray without relating it to him, couldn’t slide under her sheets without remembering how it felt to fall asleep in his arms. Around May, Y/N came to the most disturbing realization: she wasn’t entirely sure if she remembered what his voice sounded like anymore. Not in the way that meant she wouldn’t recognize it if he called out to her--she would, of course she would--but she couldn’t replicate it in her mind or replay their interactions with convincing accuracy.
Sometimes, on the nights when she couldn’t sleep at all, she envisioned her last interaction with Draco: his snow blond hair ruffled and his face grim as he turned to leave. Even though she couldn’t hear his voice quite right as he told her he loved her, she remembered the scent of his cologne against her jumper and the feeling of his skin against hers as he slipped his family ring onto her hand. It was killing her that she didn’t know exactly what happened to him. He could’ve been taken by a surviving Death Eater and held hostage at the manor. He could be dead. The papers had printed that he’d been pulled into the Vanishing Cabinet and, true to the name, completely vanished, caught in the space passageway between it and the sister cabinet. She’d known that that was the angle the Order was going to take from the start, but it did nothing to ease her anxiety. 
It was even more concerning when she remembered that they’d never agreed upon anything in the future--just simply that they cared about each other in March. At that moment it had been enough. But it wasn’t anymore. All she wanted was for him to appear, give her that stupid wave he sometimes sent to her from across the dining hall when she saw him enter in the morning, and sweep her up into his arms. But that was hard to do when he was countries away. 
N.E.W.Ts had been cancelled, much to the dismay of Hermione, so Y/N had even less things to distract her with. Harry was off with Dumbledore doing Merlin knows what to try and defeat Voldemort. She was left with nothing to do but wallow in her own pity.
In early June, days before Hogwarts classes were officially concluded, someone knocked on her door.
“Come in,” mumbled Y/N. While she had thankfully gotten past the habit of crying every day, she’d instead slipped into a sort of anxious paralysis, lying on her bed after all of her tasks were done.
“It’s me.” Ron’s voice made her sit up in surprise. He hadn’t really spoken to her privately since he’d brokered the peace between her and the rest of the trio. “Do you have time to chat?”
“Sure,” she responded, moving over so he had room to sit beside her. “What’s going on?”
“Lavender just broke up with me,” muttered Ron, his hand coming up to brush at something on his cheek. “And I’ve never felt this way before. Is this what it feels like for you? With Malfoy?”
Y/N met his eyes and saw the same kind of hopelessness in them, the edges pricking with tears. “Yeah. I think so.” It was hard to choke back her own sob, so she just hugged him. He smelled of caramel and spring grass.
“Not to be a prat,” he said, “But you shouldn’t waste any tears over Malfoy. I don’t care if he switched sides in the end, he’s still a snot-nosed tosser to me. When this is all over, we’re going out together so we can find you someone better.”
“You know he switched sides?” She pulled back in surprise. Ron sent her a little wink.
“Of course not. I’m not sure why I said that. I’m sure if it was true, it’d be confidential Order information.”
“Who else?”
“Just Hermione and Harry,” he replied in a low voice. “But we weren’t supposed to figure it out--it was an accident over Easter break while we were eavesdropping on an Order meeting. That doesn’t change anything, though. You could definitely do better.”
“And so could you,” she said. “Remember what I said about you and Hermione?”
He laughed. “I’m working on it.”
Her conversation with Ron shed light on something else that had baffled her as of late--the tentative rekindling of her friendship with Hermione. The witch was actually inviting her to study nowadays, making small talk with her despite steering clear of all topics regarding Malfoy and Death Eaters. 
The last day of school rolled around before she was ready, the final ceremony being spoken by McGonagall instead of Dumbledore while he was still traveling with Harry. As she got up from her seat in the Great Hall, Hermione grabbed onto her sleeve.
“Let’s go for a walk, shall we?”
So, instead of walking straight up to the Gryffindor Tower on the route they’d used countless times since the beginning of their educational career, they took the scenic route along the Black Lake, away from the hordes of students. They walked the shore quietly until Hermione spoke up.
“Draco needs a tutor to cover what he missed this year.” 
Y/N snapped to attention. “What?”
“Narcissa Malfoy has been requesting it and all the professors are busy with Order work,” continued Hermione, not bothering to repeat herself. “They want me to do it. When they ask, I’m going to turn them down and volunteer you instead. Is that okay?”
“Um…” Y/N stuttered. “I’m going to be a pretty shit tutor. Why would you do that for me?”
“I’m going to try and help Harry this summer,” she explained. “And even if I wasn’t, consider it my formal apology. I know it wasn’t right how I treated you this year. I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. I just hope you understand why I was hurt.”
“Of course I understand!” said Y/N, reaching out to touch her elbow. “Considering the way he treated you, I can’t blame you for feeling betrayed. I should be the one apologizing. It just...happened the way it did. I didn’t want to fall for him, but I did anyway.”
Hermione covered her hand with her own and gave it a little squeeze. “I know. Do you think we can put this all behind us? I’ve missed my best friend. Ron and Harry have been driving me crazy this term. Ron told me to tell you that you have permission to smack me if I ever say something condescending to you again.”
“Please, let’s. And I think I’d resort to throwing a nice york pudding instead…”
The familiar bittersweet feeling of looking forward to putting school behind her yet dreading leaving her friends consumed her as she filed onto the Hogwarts Express, looking back onto the castle for the last time. She didn’t know it then, but she wouldn’t be returning. At least not for a long time.
“Luna!” she exclaimed as she ran into someone trying to find her seat. The blonde Ravenclaw sent her a dreamy smile.
“You certainly look happier.” Luna tilted her head as she studied her features. 
“I never got to properly thank you for this,” said Y/N, “But you absolutely saved me this year. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you in January.”
“You don’t need to thank me for being your friend,” responded Luna. “If you really want to, owl me this summer. I think I’ll miss you quite a bit.”
“I’ll miss you more.” She let her new Ravenclaw friend pull her into a hug before she finally retired to her respective seat next to Hermione, who pressed a package into her hand.
“McGonagall just gave it to me,” she whispered into her ear. “Don’t show it to anyone. I think it’s a Portkey.”
True to Hermione’s prediction, it was a familiar object from her manor--an ornate vase that was normally on display in the main foyer. A piece of parchment was rolled up inside.
Activates at 9am on the 10th of June. Closes 5 minutes after the hour. Do not be late.
~
Instead of feeling excited to see Draco, all she could feel was her nerves as she stared at the vase in front of her at 8:55 in the morning. It’d been so long since she’d kissed him that she wasn’t even sure if she remembered how. She literally felt as if her virginity had grown back like her leg hairs did the morning after she cast hair removal spells. 
And not to mention, seeing Narcissa again--that was terrifying. She’d always been a very intimidating woman, dressed impeccably with sharp, aristocratic features much like her son. Y/N doubted she’d take kindly to her son’s tutor being more interested in him than the actual job at hand. 
That assumed he even wanted her still, anyways. Maybe three months in isolation made him come to his senses and realize he’d been absolutely off his rocker for liking her in the first place. Merlin, did he regret it? Was he going to tell her they couldn’t?
Swallowing her worries as the clock chimed at 9, she wrapped her hand around the vase and allowed herself to be pulled across international borders.
The first thing she noticed was the smell. Instead of the florally pine forest that surrounded her family’s main manor, she was greeted with the scent of sea salt and the sound of cawing birds. The sun had long since risen, the temperature a pleasant warmth to her skin after she’d spent a year in the cooler English air. 
Y/N stepped forward, towards the looming white structure that she assumed was her beach cottage. Her feet sunk in the sand as she made her way across the beach. Did he even know she was coming then? She would’ve thought he did, considering that anyone approaching the safe house unannounced would no doubt send everyone into some sort of a panic. 
Finally, she made it to the front door, tapping her wand on the enchanted knocker to signal that someone was at the front door. It creaked, and all of a sudden she was looking into the silver eyes of Draco Malfoy. He looked less pale than he did the last time she’d seen him, like he’d actually begun to spend time in the sun instead of locked away in the Slytherin dungeons. His hair looked somewhat sunbleached. She could see the faintest beginning of unfamiliar freckles across his nose. 
“Hi,” she said shyly, toying with her nails in front of her and not sure whether or not to embrace him. “I’m not sure if you knew, but your mother wanted someone to review the material you missed this year and Hermione didn’t want to, so--”
She didn’t even get to finish her sentence before he crossed through the door, swept her up, and kissed her with conviction. 
“I was wondering when you’d show up,” he whispered when he pulled away. Her eyes pooled with tears as his voice re-registered in her head. 
“I missed you,” Y/N managed. She let her fingers run over his cheekbones and the rest of his face and hair like she couldn’t believe he was actually there in front of her again. “I thought something had happened to you.”
“Something kind of did,” he admitted. “My aunt died.”
“So I’ve heard. Sorry about that.”
“It was her own fault. She brought a dagger enchanted with dark magic and it messed with the energy.” His smile had morphed into something more tense, so she stood on her toes to press a kiss to the corner of his lips, a bit tentative after not touching him since March. 
“You were all I could think about,” she admitted. “I’m not going to be much good at teaching you anything because I honestly stopped paying attention after you left…”
Draco’s smile widened, and she felt her legs turn to jelly. “I don’t mind. You were all I could think about, too. If you ever run out of things to teach me…” His fingers ghosted along her jawline as he spoke, “...I’ve had three months with nothing better to do than to think up ways to make up for the time we’ve spent apart.”
As she basked in the warmth of his embrace and the gentle sound of the Mediterranean ocean lapping at the earth, she allowed herself to relax for the first time in months. There was a war on the horizon, her friends were in danger, and her parents were once again risking themselves to aid the Order. But she’d gotten Draco out of his task. They had at least a summer left together. And at that moment, that was enough. 
“What are you thinking about?” he murmured, tugging her chin up to meet his eyes once again.
She shrugged. “Nothing. Just kiss me again.”
And so he did.
final a/n: thanks for hanging in there! i hope you guys liked it! first off, apologies if my fluff scenes are choppy or repetitive. i’m not very experienced with writing them yet. also, i decided to write draco this way last minute because i like to imagine him as someone who has never had to actually admit feelings for someone and put himself on the line--instead i think he’d try his hardest to get you to confess that you like him if he’s afraid of messing it up. also if you were confused the quidditch bracelet is supposed to be the magic equivalent of a tennis bracelet lol...when i was shopping w my mom i may have been inspired when i saw those bc literally who wears diamonds around their wrist that cost thousands of dollars every day? i asked the saleslady how much the smallest one was and she was like “only 4k and you can wear it anywhere!” like girl i work a minimum wage customer service job and that shit would break in a few seconds. no i would not wear that everywhere. tennis bracelet rant over but anyways ig i was saying that a tennis bracelet def has draco malfoy energy per se
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five-rivers · 3 years
Text
@lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks came up with this op!Danny/Marvel AU!
BTW I need help naming this newest proof that I can't keep anything to a short little one-shot.
.
Loki was not, and never had been, a good man. For that matter, whether or not he’d ever been a good boy was debatable. His mother would argue that he had, but she would very likely be the only one. Well, except for Thor, perhaps, but that was because he was an idiot who could drown in three inches of nostalgia. Like he didn’t remember every time Loki had humiliated him. Maybe he didn’t, for all that he kept falling for the same trick over and over again.
It made Loki’s late nights studying the arts of illusion, misdirection, and lying seem redundant. Almost. Not everyone was as dense as his big brother.
No. Loki had never been a good man. He had, however, been a free man.
Free to run or hide. Free to explore the nooks and crannies of Asgard, to uncover her secrets in ways few cared to do. Free to walk hidden paths between the Nine Realms and even farther flung territories, where his people did not and had never ruled, to play games, make deals, have adventures, take risks. To be. To exist as his own creature.
He had been free. He had.
But on one of those little secret excursions, he had discovered something that had made even his flippant, slippery heart clench with fear. A ravening plague, spreading across the stars. The death of half of everything on the horizon.
Loki was not a good man. What cause did he have to care for all the sundry others in the universe? There were too many. It was too much to ask.
But Asgard—His home, even though the had long ago realized the blood in his veins originated on very different soil. That was different.
Asgard, he could help. Asgard could survive.
But it had to be strong. It had to have strong allies. None of this barely-held peace, this enemy eternally at their gates. It needed strong leadership. Not his brother’s simplistic view and longing for the glory of war.
Loki was not a good man. But he was one who could get things done.
Before he knew it, he had burned all his bridges behind him. In one case, a literal bridge that was literally broken.
And he fell.
And he fell.
And he fell right into the hands of the one he had feared enough to do this. Broken enough for poison to drip into the cracks. No one knew where he was, no one could know where he was, except, perhaps, Heimdal, and Loki sincerely doubted Heimdal cared. No one was coming for him. No one was looking for him. No rescue was forthcoming.
He was alone.
Asgardians were considered gods for a reason. Their bodies and minds were much more resilient than the average mortal’s. But Thanos’s people had been titans, and there was a reason for that, too.
Thanos enjoyed breaking him.
And Loki turned his lies on himself. A skilled master of games always had one gifted opponent, even alone. Hadn’t he wanted to rule? To command? To see a world, any world, prostrate at his feet? To be given the recognition and praise of which he was so worth?
To pull something, anything, out of the fire?
(If he had spent less time learning how to spin lies and more on how to see the truth, he might not have believed it. A better, wiser, man would have. But Loki was not a good man. And he was very skilled in his craft.)
So, his new master put a weapon in his hands, and he went off to conquer a world.
.
Danny was used to rude awakenings. He was used to those rude awakenings being full body chills and ghosts, not someone knocking on his door.
Blearily, he pulled himself out from under the blankets. Quasi-military government facility or not, the beds were comfortable. Maybe Mom or Dad had gotten themselves locked out of their room? Or Jazz—No, not Jazz, she hadn’t come with them. She was at college, not being flown places by Mom and Dad’s suspiciously generous new consulting job.
At least it wasn’t the GIW.
He stood on tiptoe (curse his perpetually short body) to peer out the peephole. His parents’ buff, one-eyed, and incredibly imposing new boss stood in front of the door, hands on his hips, slightly sweeping back his long dark coat. If Danny listened carefully, he could hear two other people near the door, and… was that an alarm? Yes. Faint, but present, was a warning klaxon.
Okay. Danny would bet his right arm that something had gone horribly wrong with whatever his parents were consulting on. Didn’t explain why the boss was in front of his door.
Unless they’d gotten the rooms mixed up, somehow?
Ugh. Danny wasn’t paid enough to deal with this.
He opened the door. “What-?”
“Phantom,” intoned eyepatch guy with great solemnity.
Danny immediately tried to close the door. The guy stuck his foot in the jamb, and, sure, Danny could have crushed it, but that would be a jerk move. He didn’t think this guy was going for a pirate look, after all.
“We need your help.”
.
“I’m not sure what you think I can help you with,” yelled Danny over the beating of the helicopter blades. He’d remained stubbornly in human form. “My parents are the scientists. This sounds like a science thing. Not a punching-people thing.”
“We spoke to them earlier,” said Fury, “and we have plenty of scientists working on the theories they brought up. You’re the one with practical experience.”
“Practical experience in what?”
“Interdimensional portals,” said the woman, who had yet to introduce herself.
As if this whole thing wasn’t already giving him a bad feeling. “My parents built an interdimensional portal. Again, you should be talking to them. They’re the ones you’re paying.”
“We could pay you, too,” said Fury, “but we assumed you would want to avoid letting your parents know about this, as you’re still a minor and they have control of your bank accounts.”
Danny stared flatly. “This is blackmail.”
“We aren’t threatening you,” pointed out the woman.
“Emotional blackmail,” said Danny, glaring, daring her to challenge him on whether or not he actually knew what blackmail was.
In the meantime, the helicopter landed. Danny unbuckled and hopped out, trailing slightly awkwardly behind Fury and the woman. He didn’t want to stand out, but he suspected that, being the only kid here and being in the general vicinity of Fury, who radiated authority, that was a lost cause.
“This is Agent Coulson. Coulson, this is Phantom.”
Danny’s mouth went dry(er) at how casual the introduction was. His eyes went nervously to all the other people running around the field. With all the noise, it was unlikely anyone had heard, but still…
“Can you not? Secret identity and all? Unless you’ve told everyone herealready, which, rude.”
Fury sighed. “How bad is it?” he asked Coulson.
“We’re not sure,” said Coulson. “That’s the problem. Big fan of your work, by the way,” he added as an aside to Danny. He glanced at the woman. “Agent Hill.”
“Background?” asked Fury as he led the way into the building.
“The first energy surge was four hours ago. Dr. Selvig’s equipment picked it up – He’s the head scientist on this project.”
“Dr. Selvig isn’t authorized to test,” said Fury. “We wanted to run his plans by the Fentons.”
“He wasn’t testing. He wasn’t even in the room. He called it ‘spontaneous advancement.’”
“It turned itself on?”
“What are the energy levels?” asked Fury before Hill’s question could be answered.
“Climbing,” said Coulson.
“Mr. Fenton,” said Fury, “any comments?”
“Look, I don’t even know what this thing that you built looks like or what it’s a door to.” Danny frowned as a thought occurred to him. “You’re not expecting me to fight whatever comes out of it, are you? Because, unless you’ve got a ghost portal down there, I can’t make guarantees.”
“It’s called the Tesseract,” said Coulson. “It’s supposed to be a connection to the other side of space. A source of unlimited energy. At least,” there was a note of humor in his voice despite the evacuation taking place around them, “that’s what the scientists say.”
“A door to space?” asked Danny, firmly shoving down his excitement at the prospect. “Like, a Stargate?” It was no good, he could practically feel himself sparkling. He took a firm grip of his core and reminded himself he might need to fight before the end of the day.
“Well, no,” said Coulson. “It’s this little… cube… thing.” He made a shape with his hands.
“Oh,” said Danny, mind still whirring. “You know, if it’s really a tesseract, it isn’t a cube in just three dimensions, so bigger things could come out of it than you’d think.” He’d seen some weird portals in the Ghost Zone.
“Well, right now, we’re just getting energy.” They entered a large room with an extremely sci-fi setup. It looked like they were planning to shoot some kind of laser across the room onto a platform surrounded by strange-looking panels. There were men with guns scattered around in what was probably a well thought out formation Danny couldn’t see. There was also a dude with a bow sitting up in the rafters. He frowned down at Danny as he noticed Danny noticing him.
“Dr. Selvig!”
“Director!”
“What do we know?”
Danny allowed himself to be distracted by the centerpiece of the room, a piece of machinery built around what was indeed a little cube thing. He tilted his head and approached, trying to get a better view of it around the people in lab coats and protective gear currently swarming it. He caught mention of radiation a grimaced.
It was unlikely to kill him, but, really, everyone here should probably be wearing more PPE. You never knew what was going to come out of an interdimensional portal, after all. Except trouble. Trouble was a pretty safe bet.
It was pretty. Blue. Reminded him a little of a blue raspberry ice pop. Part of him wanted to lick it. Which was stupid. He didn’t want to wind up half what-ever-lived-on-the-other-side on top of his regular ghost nonsense.
“Mr. Fenton?”
Danny jumped and turned, refocusing on the adults, who had multiplied while he’d been daydreaming. The guy with the bow had joined them.
“Mr. Fenton? Like the Doctors Fenton I spoke to earlier?” asked Selvig.
“Yeah, it’s—”
This, of course, was when everything decided to explode. Sort of.
The blue cube shot out a beam of energy that had more than a little in common with the Fenton Bazooka’s portal setting. The beam terminated on the platform, a portal rapidly forming.
Danny slid into a fighting stance, and barely even noticed as blue energy washed over the room, throwing many less-prepared people back.
Something shaped like a man stepped through the portal.
Danny did not break his stance. Still. “An alien,” he whispered, eyes wide. If they were friendly, maybe they’d answer his questions about space. If they weren’t friendly, maybe they’d answer his questions about space after Danny beat them up.
(Danny did not go ghost. Did not even think about going ghost. There were too many people here, and the space was too open.)
Fury attempted to negotiate. Danny approved. Not everything that came through an interdimensional portal was necessarily evil.
Except this guy apparently was. Go figure. He could also deflect bullets and was very good with throwing knives, which led to Danny having to pull several of the gun guys out of their own line of fire as well as the alien’s line of knife. Who would have thought an alien’s weapon of choice would be throwing knives? The energy-blasting spear was much more in line with his expectations.
The bow guy proved to be more competent than the gun guys. This didn’t really surprise Danny. Bow guy sort of had to be competent. Otherwise, no way would they let him go around with a bow. Like, seriously. A bow.
Even so, bow guy was fighting an alien and—
“You have heart,” said the alien, raising the spear.
Danny pushed bow guy out of the way, and his mind fuzzed out.
(The human part of it, anyway.)
.
Loki didn’t know what a child was doing here, and he didn’t particularly care. The boy would do for a hostage, at least. He had a mission he had to fulfil, or else…
Or else.
“Please don’t,” he said turning with a shadow of his usual lazy affect, vaguely insulted that the human thought he could be sneaker that him, “I still need that.”
The human went on and on, apparently burdened with the delusion that he was on the same level as Loki.
Loki was burdened with other things. A glorious purpose. Glad tidings. Freedom. What could be better than freedom?
“A world free from what?” asked the human.
“From freedom,” said Loki, and wasn’t that what he believed, now? Wasn’t that what he’d been shown? “Freedom is life’s great lie.” He would know. He was an excellent liar. “Once you accept that, in your heart—” He batted away an arrow and tsked. “Shield me, boy,” he demanded. Had Thanos misrepresented the scepter’s powers? Or was the boy merely—
A dome of green surrounded him and the boy, thrumming with magic the likes of which he had only seen once, in a tome thrice forbidden.
“Oh,” said Loki, almost purring. “You are interesting. What are you?”
“Half human, half ghost,” replied the boy, tersely.
Loki had never heard of such a creature. No matter. He’d be sure to make good use of him.
“Grab the scientist,” he said, nodding at the balding man who had been with his brother when he’d fought the Destroyer in the desert.
Loki wanted the archer. He seemed interesting. Useful.
.
Fenton was under thrall. Phantom knew what that felt like. A hundred feet under red water, trying not to drown, whispers everywhere. Pulling. Pushing. Prodding.
This was different, but the principle was the same.
Neither half of him could truly ‘fight’ the other. Fenton and Phantom were a single entity. Not two in lockstep. Even so.
Fenton grabbed onto Dr. Selvig, as ordered. Phantom made sure that was all they did.
“What are you doing, boy?” snapped Loki. “Follow me! Bring the scientist.”
And so, they followed.
.
Loki breathed. Acquiring Barton had been the right choice. The boy was powerful, but, perhaps because of his unique biology, did not have Barton’s presence of mind, and couldn’t have led him to such wonderful allies.
Allies.
These weren’t truly his allies. Nor were they subjects. They were…
Loki forced himself to breathe. He just had to follow the mission. Follow the mission, let Thanos’s army through. He’d been promised this world. He would have this world.
And then he could be… His mind stuttered over the next word, and he shook his head, trying to drive out the painful buzz of Thanos’s herald and mouthpiece trying to contact him.
He looked up at the drones bustling around, all according to his will. Except the boy, who stared at him, somehow managing to be both utterly blank and challenging at the same time.
He was alone, here.
He was alone.
But what did it matter? Bad men always wound up alone, and Loki… Loki could never be a good man.
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fernweh-writes · 3 years
Note
Hi dear, I hope you are doing well ♥ Could you please write headcanon how would slashers react to their s/o having a panic fear of spiders? Like she always freezes or scream when she sees even a really small spider.
(today I freaked out, when I saw the eight-legged monster above my bed and wish I had some big stabby men here, who would save me :) )
Spiders simply have to many legs and to many eyes
-Fern🌿
Slashers X S/O With Arachnophobia
Michael Myers
He simply cannot understand why you’re afraid of spiders. You’re not afraid of a giant man who murders people, but you’re scared of a tiny insect with eight legs? Yeah, okay, makes sense.
The first time he sees you screaming and freaking out over a spider, he thinks that it’s hilarious. Michael has never seen you so scared of anything before. Not even he managed to get that kind of reaction from you when he was considering killing you. It amuses him that you’re so afraid of a bug.
When you scream for him it never fails to freak him out. He thinks that you’re in danger. So when he just sees you pointing at the spider he considers letting you suffer and deal with it on your own.
Once he’s done watching you have your bug breakdown he will kill it for you. It is his job to protect you after all and while he does occasionally enjoy seeing the fear in your eyes, he would much rather you fear him. That small bug is stealing his thunder, so it has got to go.
Bo Sinclair
There is most definitely plenty of spiders in Ambrose. Majority of the places are run down on the inside, which makes them a safe haven for creepy crawlies. So unfortunately for you, there will be plenty of encounters with the eight legged horrors that are spiders.
The first time Bo hears you scream he panics, thinking that you’re in danger. So when he finds you pointing at a spider, it’s safe to say that he is a little bit upset.
At the same time he also finds it endearing and loves that you come running to him to save you. It shows that you trust him to protect you, even from little nuisances.
But still, even though he does think you’re being dramatic he’s quick to squash them. Bo knows that there’s plenty of spiders in Louisiana that could be dangerous and land you in the ER so he’s more than happy to handle them for you.
Be prepared for Bo to give you hell about your fear though. “What are you so scared for darlin’? The thing ain’t but the size of a dime, if that.”
Vincent Sinclair
He spends most of his time in dark, cool tunnels underground. There’s spiders absolutely everywhere in his workshop, Vincent is just used to them at this point.
Vincent does his best to keep you up in the house after the first time a spider crawls over your leg and you loose your mind. That effort lasted about all of one day considering he hates working alone now and misses your presence. Knowing that you want to be with him also doesn’t help his resolve any.
Used to try and save the spiders but eventually gave up. There’s simply to many of them in Ambrose, so saving them just doesn’t do any good.
Luckily, Vincent takes your fear of spiders very seriously. So anytime you call upon him to save you from the eight legged nuisances he is always quick to oblige.
If you interrupt his work though it may annoy him a little bit but he’ll never let you know that. He knows that you can’t help your phobia, but don’t expect him to stick around after he finishes the job. May also get a little bit of an attitude afterwards as well but always ends up apologizing.
Brahms Heelshire
Spiders don’t phase Brahms. He lives in the walls with plenty of them and has more than likely come to appreciate them. Which is very surprising for Brahms. So sometimes he tries to save the spiders and move them outside. Unless he’s been bitten by one.
If Brahms has been bitten by a spider before then it just turns into the two of you freaking out and arguing over who has to kill the spider.
“Be a gentleman, Brahms! You kill the spider.” “No! You kill it, you’re the one being paid!”
If you don’t want to deal with the spiders, all it takes is Malcolm stepping on one for you one time when you started freaking out. Brahms saw you thank him for it and got jealous. Now Brahms is your official protector from creepy crawlies, not Malcolm.
Thomas Hewitt
You’re going to have to get over your fear of spiders if you want to live in the Hewitt house. The old place does a terrible job of keeping the bugs outside so you’ll see them scurrying across the floor pretty frequently.
You know what they say, everything is bigger in Texas. Turns out, the spiders are no exception, so good luck.
Thomas is very busy and handles most of the chores for the family. He doesn’t have the time to run to your rescue every time you see a spider.
When he is with you he won’t hesitate to kill them for you though. Thomas isn’t afraid of people with weapons, why should he be afraid of a small critter with eight legs?
Luda Mae would honestly just look at you like your stupid if you tell her about your fear. Nonetheless any spider she sees it quickly whacked with an old newspaper before you even have a chance to see it.
Billy Loomis
“How come you never scream for me like that, babe?”
Billy thinks it’s absolutely hilarious that you’re afraid of something so small. You can date a murderer but an eight legged bug is where you draw the line?
While he loves to tease you about it, he will still save you from the spiders. What kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t? “Ask nicely and I might kill it for you.” “You’ll kill people but not the spider?” “You know what, just for that you can kill it yourself. Have fun!” Or maybe not…
Walks away but circles right back around when he hears you freaking out again. Then he gets dramatic about everything and starts huffing and rolling his eyes at you.
Stu Macher
Much like Billy, Stu teases you but in a less condescending way. Stu keeps his teasing more lighthearted, he just has a tendency to go to far with it from time to time.
Is also very dramatic and makes a whole scene out of killing the spider for you. Acts like he’s your knight in shining armor.
On the bright side, him being a complete dork distracts you from the spider. Unlike some people *cough cough Billy* he doesn’t delay the part where he kills the spider.
However, he does expect payment for saving you and protecting you from the big bad arachnid. It’s okay he accepts cuddles and kisses as a form of payment.
Jesse Cromeans
He has spent to much time on his murder sprees in the Deep South to be scared of spiders. Everyone knows that the south has plenty of deadly spiders and Jesse sin;t fazed by any of them so you can count on him to keep you safe.
There aren’t any spiders in his house either. Jesse has to much money to allow any sort of bugs get anywhere close to his house. Any time you see a spider within the house it’s most likely already dead anyways.
Jesse finds your fear of the bugs cute. It makes you seem so innocent. His sweet kitten isn’t afraid of him or what he does but they’re afraid of a tiny little spider.
Asa Emory
Asa doesn’t fear spiders, the spiders fear him.
Unlike the other slashers, Asa doesn’t tolerate bug homicide. Any time you find a spider in the house you better let him know so that he can safely get rid of it.
Some times he’ll keep the spiders that find their way into the house. Spiders are his favorite after all and native species are important for the environment.
Sadly, he would use your fear against you if he deems it necessary. As long as you listen to him though, there won’t be any issue.
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bluebird-imagines · 3 years
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Hi :) can you do all the members(separately off) with a s/o who doesn’t really like their music?
[I can for sure give it a shot! This is my first ask so i do hope you enjoy it ^_^. Also I apologize for taking so long, my second vaccine shot kicked my butt]
Prompted: S/O who doesn’t like Gorillaz Music
Trigger Warnings: I can’t think of any for this one. Maybe I should state my horrible 2D accent! I apologize in advance. Of and I bring up the s*x, m*rder, party song. But all and all I don’t think there is anything else. Anyway enjoy!
~Murdoc Niccals ~
Let’s start this off with, at first he doesn’t even realize that you don’t like the Gorillaz music. He never even pieces two and two together. Why might you ask? Well for the first while you tolerated it for the Bass players sake.
After a few months, you decided it would be best to maybe leave Kong whenever the band you as practicing or rehearsing. You did a lot of stuff in this time. Coffee, read some good books, even went bowling on your own a few times. It was just nice to get away from that horrid music.
You didn’t have anything against the band members themselves! All of them were nice, it just you found the songs to be tedious and annoying.
When Murdoc finally started to take notice, he would ask you why you would avoid the band. Not seeming to understand the distaste of their masterpieces.
You lied most of the time, saying something stupid like “oh I am meeting up with friends” or “oh I would just be in the way”.
After a few more months, Murdoc finally forced you to sit and listen to their newest album. Mainly wanting to get your take on it before the official release.
You didn’t even get halfway through the first song before standing up and tuned off the player. You honestly felt like your ears would jump off your head if you ever heard that again.
“What the Bloody hell was that for?! We have like 43 more minutes to go”
“Murdoc, I don’t know how to tell you this. But babe…your music is a flaming hot dumpster fire and I don’t like it”
“……what? Why the hell are you with me then if you don’t like our music?”
“Because I may have underlining daddy issues according to the internet, but in reality I really love you Mudz…for you!”
“So playing bass isn’t sexy….underlining what? No wait getting away from the real point here. You never heard if Feel Good inc.? Or you know Clint Eastwood?Those were some of our best songs! What about To Binge? Empire ants? Any of them.
“Hmm, Feel Good inc? Let’s see it’s repeats itself a lot. Clint Eastwood? Haha other then the opening your song had nothing to do with Clint Eastwood. You posted To Binge aka forced 2D to sing it. Empire Ants? It just sucks”
“You suck! Are music is an art! It’s great! you are the problem here.”
“Never said I was! Your music is an art and it makes a lot of people happy. But to me, my ears did like it…but I can say this, I do like you a lot Murdoc.”
“ I am pretty great! Fine no more of our music…around your at least. But maybe sometimes”
“I can handle sometimes”.
~Noodle~
Noodle would completely understand your distaste for their music. She understands that not anyone is up for what they produce and she thinks that is okay!
For her as long as you don’t listen to any overly annoying songs around her. She really doesn’t care what you listen to.
She does however like to get your input on songs, even if you don’t like them. She just likes hearing different peoples ideas.
But with that being said, there is a 100% chance that she may try to convert you into liking Gorillaz. Of course, just simply by showing you different songs they have done. Like Punk or Humility, Feel Good inc. or El Mañana. Hell she has even shown you Latin Simone.
When she realized she was doing this, she quickly backed off and apologized.
“Sorry (Y/n). I didn’t mean to do that…I just kind of got excited and thought you would like the different genres we have done.”
“It’s okay Noodle, you realized your mistake! Honestly it’s not that the songs themselves aren’t inherently bad…it’s just well Murdoc’s bass playing is well…pretty bad in my opinion”
“Oh? How so if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Well to me it sounds like well, a crusty old man who doesn’t know how to cut his nails and proceeds to scratch the surface of everything he touches. Also while we are at it 2D’s singing is really hard to understand!”
“Well Murdoc does forget to clip his nails from time to time and he doesn’t seem to like using a pick for his bass. But now you confused me with 2D”
“Listen I love you all! Especially you Noodle, but ooo boy, if you guys weren’t careful in sex murder party…it kind of sounds like 2D is singing dissolve the kids…which isn’t a pleasant image”
“Ah, I see what you mean, anything else?”
“Nope! Your guitar playing is wonderful! Love everything about you! Just your band is a bit much at times haha”
~Russel Hobbs~
Much like Noodle Russel would understand that their music wasn’t for everyone. Everyone was entitled to their own opinion. For example he was really into rap and it took a while for him to talk the whole band into listening to it.
Regardless unlike Noodle or Murdoc he wouldn’t make you listen to a single song of theirs if you didn’t want to.
Of course you would every now and then for their demo’s you just wouldn’t voice your opinion on it, since you couldn’t stand it.
Russel would also try his best to get into music that you like! Of course, if he doesn’t like one of the songs you like, you make a mutual agreement to not play it around him.
He even at one point turned it into a game that he really enjoyed playing with you! It was a game that helped the both of you set up playlists!
He would pick one of his favourite songs, if you thought it was okay, it went into the playlist. If he liked one of the songs you picked into the playlist!
“Okay how about, this song?”
“Let it go…from frozen? Really, we ain’t putting that in the playlist”
“Yeah you are right it was a stupid idea, it’s just been stuck in my head.”
“Haha fair enough, how about Rainforest by Noname?”
“Hmm, that’s actually not a bad one! We can throw it in! Alright space jam?”
“What is with you in movie songs tonight? Yeah we can throw in space jam”
“Sweet!”
“I can’t believe space jam beats our music out in that mind of yours…”
~Stuart “2D” Pots~
At first, 2D can not wrap his mind around the fact that you hate their music. More so he has never really had someone be with him for well just him before. Most of the one nightstands he had in the past was because of his popular singer status.
He does try his very best to get you into their music, of course, walking the fine line between shoving it down your throat and giving you air to breath with your own tunes.
That being said though, he doesn’t overly mind the fact that you like your own selection of music. He does find some of your songs enjoyable.
When he realizes most of the bands travel playlist consisted of a few of the bands own songs. He secretly takes the phone and changes up the playlist. He removes the Gorillaz songs and replaces them with songs you like.
Although you don’t like the bands music, that never truly stopped you from liking 2D’s singing. When he found that out he made a special song just for you. One where it was only on his keyboard and singing. He keeps it hidden so Murdoc doesn’t find it.
“(Y/n) I made yew something!”
“Oh sweet Satan please don’t tell me it was breakfast and that you burnt down the kitchen again!”
“What no! Besides that was a one time fing and I got a four month ban from going in fere fanks to Russel”
“Sorry…shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. What did you make 2D? You seemed really proud.”
“Oh well Um…I know yew don’t like our music and all…but I uh, I made yew a song, do ya want to ‘ere it?”
“Of course 2D, just because I don’t like your music, doesn’t mean I can’t be supportive of you”
“Well, this song isn’ really goin’ to be on an album, because I made it for yew”
“Aww 2D you didn’t have to~”
“But I wanted too!”
After he plays the song, you state that you adore it! This puts a huge smile on his face!
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