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itsjusthockey · 1 year

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Last Night In Anaheim - Trevor Zegras

Can you believe it? My page will finally not be a Jack Hughes fan page. Keeping sending requests, I love them.

Thank you for all the love and support! You’re all so kind and it makes my night every time I get a message.

!!!!WARNING!!!!: This is not a fun fic. I wrote this as a challenge to see if I can do angst and to hurt my own feelings and I was successful. I was having a really bad week and no better time to write sad emotions then when you’re sad.

Anyway, I’m better now and there is so many happy ones coming, so don’t worry.

wc: 2,364 (credit to gif maker)(please don’t steal my work)

Please let me know your opinions. I was hesitant to post this, but I decided I liked it.

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Today would be your last day in Anaheim, and that notion alone was enough to shatter your heart into a million pieces. This feeling wasn’t one you were a stranger to, and as often as it was coming around, you didn’t know if it would ever fade.

You stare hard at the bowl of cereal in front of you, staring at the few fruit loops floating in the cascade of milk and wishing you didn’t feel this way. You continue to stare until you hear the noise of Trevor getting out of the shower, and within a few minutes, he’s strolling into the kitchen, making small talk with you.

He’s not stupid, he knows something is wrong, but he thinks that it's better if he doesn’t push you. So he doesn’t. Instead, he grabs his practice bag, kisses you on the forehead, and heads out the door, promising he’ll be back soon and you’ll spend the rest of the night together.

You watch him go, and when the door slams shut, your heart cracks again.

With him gone, you start to think about him. People like Trevor don't come around often. Once in a lifetime, maybe, if you're lucky.

He’s a special type of person, who loves with his entire being, and you’re just the lucky girl he chose. You know you love him, too; you’re painfully aware of that fact. You love everything about him. You love his smile that makes your knees go weak, his laugh that you hated at first until it became utterly contagious, and his dramatic personality that is sometimes so outrageous, but you love it anyway.

Before you know what you’re doing, you’re packing. You’re not going to run away, that would be worse than what you know you have to do, but you also know better. You know that if you pack now, he won’t have time to convince you to stay.

You knew this wasn’t fair; you knew that it wasn’t his fault, and you knew that you loved him more than almost everything else. But you also knew that if you continue to love him, it was going to continue to destroy you.

You look at the clock; it’s only 3:00 in the afternoon. He’ll be back at seven. In the meantime, you’ll begin to grieve because heartbreak is an odd experience. At 4:00, you wish you could hide from the sunlight streaming into the windows. At 4:30, you feel unstoppable and decide that maybe you’re just in a slump, and this will pass. Around 5:00, you're crying in his room, silently, hoping that this won’t actually kill you. At 5:30, you're kneeling in front of the toilet because you feel nauseous. At 6:00, you grow brave again, and you feel like you can manage. At 7:00, just before you know he’s coming back; you're exhausted from this emotional roller coaster, and your brain is unsuccessfully trying to regain control. When it hits 7:15, and you hear the car door outside slam shut, you wish you could feel anything, anything but this.

When he opens the door, you’re sitting in the place where he left you, and goosebumps flood his skin. He lets the door shut behind him softly, and he takes you in. You don’t seem outwardly sad, but when you meet his eyes, he feels like he’s missed something, and he knows he’s about to pay for it.

When his eyes bore into your soul, and he picks you apart layer by layer, you can’t help but think that he’s the perfect guy, through and through.

Even so, you can’t lie to yourself; that’s just the way of things. You know that if you could try to convince yourself that the pain is just deception, the scales will balance out, but every feeling will bubble to the surface eventually.

“We need to talk.” You whisper.

It’s four words. But they hold the weight of the world, and Trevor knows it. So he drops his bag, walks over, pulls out the stool opposite you, and sits down.

When you bring your face to meet his, he sees a tear roll down. He has the urge to wipe it away, but he pushes it down as he waits for you to speak, even though he desperately doesn’t want to know what you’re about to say.

“I’m leaving.” You breathe out. “Tonight.”

His mouth goes dry.

“No,” he almost pleads. “You’re not.”

At this point, your tears are falling freely. You hate yourself for doing this, but you also love yourself enough to know this is what’s best for you and him.

“I have to go.” You tell him. “I’m falling apart, and you can’t fix me.”

At your admission, tears start falling freely from his own eyes, and rage starts to build in his heart.

“What is that supposed to mean (Y/N)? We have been so good, baby, haven’t we?”

The last two weeks play through his mind. You had come to stay with him, and he’d loved every second of having you here. He loved when he’d wake up, and you’d be curled up next to him. He loved when you were there after practice to tell him that everyone else sucked at hockey except him, he loved that you’d taken over his bathroom with all your products, and he loved that when you were here, he felt complete.

So how the fuck did he miss that you didn’t feel the same?

“Trevor.” You can see him spiraling in his own thoughts, so you pull him back to you. “I love you-“

“No.” You see his own heart breaking behind his eyes. “Don’t start. Don’t give me a breakup speech, don’t give up on us.”

“Trevor.”

“Don’t give up on me.” He begs.

A sob falls from your lips as he speaks, and you wish you could explain that it wasn’t him. It was all you. You wish you could explain that you need to figure yourself out. Because you owe it to him to love him as deeply as he loves you.

So you try, you take a deep breath, and try.

“I love you, Trevor, more than anything, but I need time to figure things out. Something,” you pause. “In my heart isn’t letting me be at peace. And you don’t deserve that. You deserve someone who knows what is happening with their own heart. You deserve someone to give you all the love you deserve, you deserve-“

“I know what I deserve, and I deserve you. Isn't that the whole point of love? Sticking with someone even when times get tough? What's the point of telling someone you love them if you're going to leave them? What's the fucking point of love if you're just going to let it go?”

His words burn, and you want more than anything to forget about this. To crawl across the table and let him hold you. Let yourself believe that he can mend the hole that has been in your heart for the last few months. You want to believe that you deserve him, that you’re it, but you can’t.

Trevor abruptly pulls himself from the table and storms in the direction of his room. You’re quick to follow behind.

He scans his room, then the bathroom, then the closet. He begins crying even harder than he realizes that everything is gone. The clothes in the closet, the products in the bathroom, the extra shoes on the floor next to his. All the things that you’d brought were gone, packed into the suitcase you had brought.

“Do you even care about me?” He asks quietly.

He knows the answer, you know he does, but he’s hurting, and he wants to make you say it.

“You know I do.” You choke out.

You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to chase off the cold and the sudden emptiness. Trevor sucks in a hard breath, then speaks again.

“Then why are you breaking my heart?"

You shrink back even further, wanting to crawl deeper within yourself. His question goes unanswered. You don’t know what to say.

Trevor doesn’t know what to say either. He knows what you both have is love, but as he is replaying the last few months, he realizes that he is seeing a perfect illusion.

He sinks to the floor, and you follow suit, sitting about four feet away from each other. You’re both so close, but you’ve never felt further apart.

“Can we at least talk about this?” He croaks.

“You’ll convince me to stay.” You whisper. “And I can’t stay. I won’t do that to you.”

The anger flares up again in his chest.

“You don’t get it.” His head snaps up to you, his eyes are red from crying, and his lip shakes. “You’re the best thing I never knew I needed.”

You both sit there and cry for what feels like hours. You don’t say anything, and neither does he.

When you finally have enough courage to speak, he beats you to it.

“I’m not letting you go tonight.” He states.

“Trevor, I-” you start.

“No.” He interrupts. “It’s late, and I’m not letting you get on a red eye or stay in a hotel room alone.”

You want to argue. The last place you want to be is with him. Just looking at him has you wishing you could wither away.

He gets up from the floor without another word and starts grabbing a few things, including a pillow and a throw blanket, from his bed and heading to the door.

“What’re you doing, Trev?” He cringes at the nickname but stops anyway.

“You can have the room; I’ll stay on the couch.”

He leaves the bedroom, and you begin crying again. You want to go back in time; you want to go back to when you weren’t a mess.

When you pull yourself from the floor, you decide the only thing you can do is get ready for bed. So you mindlessly pull out your skincare and begin your routine.

You don’t make it thirty seconds before you’re crying again. You are thinking about all the times you’ve done your night routine with him and how it was always your favorite part of your day.

It’s late when you leave the bathroom, and you listen for him outside, but it’s silent. You climb into the bed, breathing in the all too familiar and comforting scent of him, and you feel yourself sink deeper into yourself. You had spent most of the day crying, and you feel as though you have no more tears to give, but they begin falling anyway.

Soon, your whole body is wracked with sobs, and you’re trying to contain it, but you can’t. Tears are soaking Trevor’s pillows, and your world is burning down around you, but you know it’s what’s best for both of you.

You don’t hear him until he knocks, and you still.

“(Y/N).” He calls softly. “Can I come in?”

You know you shouldn’t let him, but you can’t help but feel like you owe it to him and yourself to let him in.

“Sure.” Your voice is rough, and you cringe when you hear it.

He twists the doorknob and enters the dark room, and before you know it, he’s climbing in next to you, not daring to touch you, but still there.

You both sit in silence, tears falling from both of your eyes. You think he maybe fell asleep because his breathing is steady, but then he breaks the silence again.

“Tell me I mean something to you.”

You want to scream suddenly. You wish he knew how much he meant to you. You wish he could understand that he has made you a better person in so many ways. You wish he knew there wasn’t a time when he wasn’t on your mind. You wish he knew that the distance was killing you and that you could barely breathe when he wasn’t around you. You wish knew that you loved him so fucking much, but you had to heal yourself before you broke him too.

“You mean everything.”

Silence. Nothing but heavy silence plagues the space you’re in.

A few minutes pass when Trevor speaks again.

“Can I hold you? One last time? Please.” He whimpers.

You nod in the dark, but he must’ve felt it because he’s pulling you in. His grip is iron tight on you as if he’s afraid you’ll try to leave him in the dark. He knows that you have to go, he doesn’t get it, but he knows that he trusts you. He trusts you to understand your feelings, and if you were pushing him away, he knew it was because you didn’t want to hurt him.

However, he wished that you knew that he didn’t care. He would rather be hurt by you every day than not have you at all. He wished that you knew that he would let you leave tomorrow, but he wasn’t going to let you slip away. He wish you knew that you were it for him, that you were everything.

You wait for him to fall asleep, and when he does, you let your mind wander, knowing sleep isn’t an option for you. Instead, you think about your entire relationship. Everything that you’d been through together. You hated to do this. You hated it. But it was the right thing to do.

You have to let him go.

So you will. However, you decide to let yourself have this last night. You cuddle closer to Trevor and relish in the feeling of being in his arms. You count his breaths and let yourself think, just for the night, that you’re okay. So that’s what you do; you lay there, go over every precious memory you will hold onto forever, and enjoy being here with him—this one last time.

Tonight will be your last night in Anaheim, and tomorrow you’ll leave. The very thought of that breaks your heart all over again, and you wonder, deep down, if you’re going to make it.

#trevor zegras #hockey #hockey boys #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #imagine #nhl imagine #anaheim ducks #hockey fic #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine #nhl x reader #nhl hockey #nhl fic #angst #original story

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shotgunbunny · 1 year

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Haii sorry if this is an odd request but could you write a angst fic w/ Lloyd where he visits the readers grave and recalls all their fun memories 🥺 sorry it's a bit cheesy I just want wanna be hurt so bad

༻𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩༺

I just finished reading All the bright places so I'm in a super angsty mood😌

(Warnings!! Angst!! Dead reader!! Unhinged Lloyd!! Sadness!! Fluffy memories!! Implied smut.)

Everyone always wanted to know how Lloyd Hansen became the sick and twisted individual he was today. No one could track down the moment. No one could link anything traumatic to him.

Lloyd made sure of that, he became hellbent on hiding who he was after you left. He wouldn't let you be his weakness ever again. He had failed once and he'd never fail again, so he painfully burned every document of your existence yet, he couldn't burn you out of his mind.

He had keyed the exact moment he had left his sanity behind and it was with you. Every part of his humanity was left behind with you. And now he was unstoppable. He was unhinged and a monster.

Every time Lloyd passes by a flower shop he's transported to your first meeting. To the very second he fell in love with you. That's why he avoided them, yet he never damaged them. He respected flower shops, almost as if he could hear you chastising him for being so rude to a place filled with life.

It was a shit day. It was a really shit day. It was raining and Lloyd had crashed his car. Only 3 weeks after he had finished Harvard and what does he do? Goes and crashes his goddamn car. Well by his car he means his mums, so he has to find a way to apologize.

He passed by bakeries and Gucci stores yet it didn't appeal to him as an apology. And then as he was walking he saw a glimpse of a yellow dress dash inside a store. He stared and walked slowly towards the store. He noted it was a flower store. The plants were outside getting soaked, something he assumed would be good.

Yet he watched as the girl in the yellow dress ran out and collect another two pots and run back in. He smirked watching her to and fro. He walked over, getting soaked. The door opened and out stepped you. "Do you want some help here sunflower?" You looked up at the man, noting his strange moustache but finding it endearing somehow.

"Yes please bluebell!" And before he could even question the nickname you rushed inside with another two potted plants. He smiled, and picked up as many as his arms would let him. You opened the door and let him in. You headed out and noted there was only one plant left. You snatched it and headed into the dry store.

You placed it on the counter and turned, jumping out your skin at seeing the man looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. You stared into his eyes, noting how blue and beautiful they were. "Bluebell? Where did that nickname come from sunflower?" You giggled. "Your eyes are blue and your top is blue." He smiled at you.

He was dressed in a long sleeved blue top with black pants. He made it look so amazing, almost like he was a model. You stared at each other and you turned away, tending to the plants from outside. "Hey sunflower, you don't have any flowers that say 'I'm sorry mum.' do you?" You turned and gave him the harshest glare you could.

He held his hands up in defeat and your look, "What did I do wrong sunflower?" You bravely poked his chest, "Yeah what did you do wrong bluebell? Why do you have to apologize to your mum? Were you mean?" He looked down sheepishly and rubbed his wrist, "I kind of crashed her car." You stared at him with wide eyes. "You're gonna need alot more than an apology mister."

He smiled down at you offer his hand to shake, "Call me Lloyd I think I'll be visiting this flower shop often." You took his hand and he pulled it to his lips placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles. You uttered your name to him, finding a heavenly symphony drifting into your ears when he said your name.

You were working hard, it had been months now and you and Lloyd had been dating for four months. He spoiled you rotten yet despite his whining you refused to quit your job.

Which is where you were right now. However you couldn't tell what was wrong with this Orchid. Suddenly two big hands covered your face and blocked your eye site and a smooth deep voice echoed behind you. "Guess who Sunflower?" You giggled, "Hmmm is it Suzanne?" He took his hands away and gasped.

You giggled and turned to look at him, he stared at you a smile joining his lips at the sound of your giggle. You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek and then turned back to look at the flower. Lloyd placed his big hands on your hips and pulled you into him. He placed his chin on top of your head. "What's wrong sunflower?" You stared and muttered, "I'm not sure bluebell."

You took it into the back and saw someone had over watered it. You sighed and began putting it into different soil and then remembered Lloyd was with you. You smiled, "Fun fact bluebell, did you know that orchids don't need soil because they get all their nutrition from the air?" He stared at you so inlove. "I didn't. But if they don't need soil why are you putting it in soil?"

You smiled, "Because then it will be comfier and will have extra nutrition." Lloyd breathed out of his nose just staring at you, "You're lovely sunflower. Absolutely lovely."

You turned and pressed a kiss to his lips, he kissed back instantly embracing this moment and how fast his heart beat inside his chest.

It was your year and a half anniversary, and Lloyd had left bluebell flowers on your doorstep with a note telling you to dress nice and be ready by 7. You were so giddy. You put on your beautiful pale yellow flowing dress that Lloyd got you on your year anniversary so that he could remember that yellow dress you wore when you first met.

You smiled, truly adoring it, feeling prettier than the flower he often called you. You were nervous yet excited beyond reason. He always went all out for anniversaries. So when 7 o'clock rolled up, as did Lloyd in his sleek car. You took steps down to him, a smile on your face matched perfectly with your blush.

"My sunflower you truly leave me speechless sometimes." You giggled and when you reached him you kissed him, ofcourse he had to bend but he would always welcome your kisses. When your lips met his, he was home. He felt safe and loved. He pulled away and looked down at you.

"Come on, let's go." You took his hand as he led you to the passenger side. You sat and as you began driving to his car, you could tell he was nervous from how tense his biceps were. You reached out and placed your hands on him, trying to relax him, he flashed you his signature smile. And before you could blink you were at his house.

You adored his house, you even started bringing flowers to brighten up the living space. You always giggled at the fact he kept a bouquet of sunflowers in every room. He always kept you close, so that he could wake up to you in some form.

You got out, and headed along the driveway that was scattered in fake rose petals. You turned to him, "You take my breath away everytime bluebell." He looked down and then back up a real smile adorning his lips. "I suppose that means I'll have to give you mine." He stepped forward and latched your lips together before blowing and literally giving you his breath.

You laughed, and headed into his home. And instantly gasped. Hanging from a thread was a key and a note that read 'Live in my greenhouse, sunflower. Move in with me.' you laughed and turned and hugged him. "Ofcourse I'll move in with you!" He couldn't help but laugh with you. That night was sealed with your bodies joining each other. Wrapping your soul around each other and embracing the love you held for eachother.

And ofcourse the happiest day of Lloyds life. Your wedding. The way you smiled only at him. How your eyes locked together all the way down the aisle. You were truly infatuated with eachother. And nothing could have stopped Lloyds from marrying you that day.

Everything was perfect, that's what the general consensus was. But all that mattered to him was you. You were perfect. You peppered him in kisses the entire time.

And your first dance was so magical. Lloyd still has every step you both took engrained in his mind. How he held your so delicately against him. How you looked like a goddess in his arms. Your eyes burning with love and pure happiness all while you swayed to the long.

He could have drowned in your presence and all he would ask for is if you would hold him under your waters. He felt so peaceful, so fulfilled. You were Mrs. Hansen. The only right thing he ever did in his entire life.

He bought flower shops everywhere and named them after you so that your first meeting was everywhere. So that your love was sold in every store. So that yours and his story lingered on every petal bought by young lovers and old soulmates. He would make sure that your brilliance shined throughout the world through colours and smells of magnificence. Yes he was truly happy that day.

Lloyd wiped his tears. He had heard many fairy tales of how he turned into a monster. But none knew he died the second you did. There was no happiness left for him. And it broke him that so many flower stores held your name.

Like you were lingering beyond the grave telling him you wouldn't be dead if he didn't walk into that flower shop. He can't look at sunflowers without his bones aching for your soft whisper to call him bluebell.

He can't do anything but kill and forget all about you, even if it killed him. But for now, he could keep this secret. See he made sure you were burried in the Netherlands purely because of how many flowers were there.

Your tomb didn't have your name, it was merely engraved as "sunflower, the love of bluebells life." He visited every year on your wedding anniversary. He left a single sunflower and bluebell. Just so that you two could be together in flower form.

He always stays there for hours thinking about how much he loves you even though you aren't present. He has so much love he just can't let it go. Not when you existed. And despite how much Lloyd hates flower shops now, he never changed the name.

Hoping that in some other universe they remain the same, and you both met there. He lets his head fill with fantasies of different worlds in flower shops, and always you.

His one true weakness, and it destroyed him. He couldn't help but become a monster after, with no softness to hold him and comfort his skin he saw no reason to slaughter those that stood in his way.

Lloyd let out a sigh, placing a gentle kiss on your tombstone. He stood up, but now he had a slouch. Only truly fulfilled men had the right to stand at full height, and he never got his forever with you, or the family.

No instead he got a phone call dragging him out of his silent grieving, "What?" The line went silent before he heard Carmichael give him a request to hunt someone down for a drive. He hung up and with one last glance at your resting area and a tight lipped smile, he headed to his mission.

He was unknowningly about to meet you in a flower store in another universe soon. And that was the tragic tale of the Hansens.

#lloyd hansen x plus size reader #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x innocent!reader #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen angst #lloyd hansen fluff

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enbysiriusblack · 3 months

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Everyone thinks Lily is the most imp Marauder era character but I disagree.

What did she do? Decline death when she had an oppurtunity. Brave and loyal. But I think James plays a bigger role than her. Lily only dies when she has a chance at survival and decides to stop being friends with Snape bc Snape's bigotry was affecting her.

James meanwhile plays a bigger part both b4 and after dying. He and Snape are sworn rivals. He is the on who understands how dark the path Snape chose (and probably before Snape).

He's the one that, despite the war, manages to look at someone from themselves and not their families. He looks at the person not the family, or at the lycanthropy, or blood status.

He's the one that saves Remus, Peter and Sirius from themselves and others repeatedly. He saves Snape too (and foghting the war he obvi saves others as well)

Also, I don't think the prophecy is alone the reason Voldemort went after the Potters.

I mean obvi plays a role bc they had a 'child born as the seventh month dies' and 'defies thrice' Voldemort but I think James had a bigger role in this than Lily.

I mean was Lily really so exceptional that Voldemort wanted *her*? I think not. Not saying she's dumb but she definitely isn't *that* important. So why does Voldemort ask her to join? I can see two reasons:

Snape

James

I think Snape asked Voldemort to consider her, just like he asked her to be spared.

I also think, however, that the reasson Voldemort agreed was not only bc Snape was trusted and a spy and what not, but also bc Lily was involved with James. James Potter, a wealthy pureblood. Probably the only wealthy pureblood family which was so known and likely powerful that fought against him.

Basically I think by the 70s, there were three big pureblood famlies, and that the rest of the wizarding world often bended to their will. If all three were with Voldemort he would be unstoppable. Not even Dumbledore would be a problem. And Voldemort had two; Blacks and Malfoys. Because of this he had a huge following, bc of this was the war so big and long and dangerous.

But he didn't have the Potters. The three living Potters, Fleamont, Euphemia and James were extremely open about where their priorities lied, unlike the Blacks and Malfoys who were hiding their support, handling things from being the curtains, the Potter made it public from the first signs of conflict (in fact even before that) that Voldemort did not have their support. Later James remained, and he married Lily.

Lily Evans just happened to be the girl Snape believed would do great on his side, and so he tried to convince him. She denied, and so did James. When he realised which famlies the prophecy spoke of, Voldemort chose Harry, because he was half-blood but more importantly because the Potter family, because James, was a threat.

I suppose this might have gone to theory/head canon towards the end, but you got the point right? I think James was far more important Canon-wise.

And in the main series we see Harry yearning for James all the time. Lily is barely mentioned in comparision. He has some 7 father figures but he wants James, but he's perfectly happy with Molly as a mother figure.

Also, James happens to be where he gets his quidditch skill from (which is important). Harry's patronus is also James animagus form and I think in that way James keeps Harry safe.

Lily seems to more or less exist bc Harry needs to have a mother whereas James exists as a stand-a-lone very important character, and I think he very easily defeats Lily in most imp. character of that time.

What did Lily contribute? The protection charm thing? I don't thing that helped Harry at all ever. Not even when the text says so. I think he aquired Potter Luck from his father, James.

I also think that Harry is, Canon-wise, more like James because we only see Lily as someone Snape is obsessed with, someone who Sirius and Remus knew, someone who James married, someone who is the mother of Harry, someone who was prefect with Remus etc. Harry? We know him as him, just like we know James as James, in opposition to Lily was that in relation to that.

I'll get to a last point which was Slughorn and the memory Harry acquired. Harry was going to get that memory no matter what bc he had drank the liquid luck.

Literally anyone else could have been Harry's mother and the only change would be is Harry's eyeshape, colour and nose.

Male someone else Harry's dad and everything changes, from is he going to be the boy who lived and does Snape hate him *as much* to his personality. Half the time he lives it's luck and things that he has due to James so I think James definitely takes this win.

My opinion though feel free to disagree.

okay so, i get what you're saying. but lily does still play a very large part (in my opinion, slightly more than james, but i can understand if you think james is more important).

james is severus' rival (i'm pretty sure it's more severus thinking of james as his rival than the other way around, whilst james doesn't really, he more messes with severus because of his ideology + trying to entertain sirius, but anyway. getting a bit off topic there). james and severus are 'rivals' because of lily. without lily, they would have barely interacted ever. lily is severus' best friend/crush and severus gets jealous that james spends lots of time with her/lily dates him. they do have that argument on the train in first year, but again. the conversation started between lily and severus- without lily they would never have argued about hogwarts houses. lily is the central point to their conflict- severus fights james and his friends because he wants to control/be with lily and he thinks james is in the way of that, even though lily just doesn't like him in that way. and james fights severus because severus is picking a fight with him/severus is bigoted.

also severus is pretty major in the storyline of harry potter- like he plays a vital role in the majority of the books/films. and everything he does is fuelled by his obsession/inability to get over lily evans. he's overly mean to harry because he looks like james who he thinks stole lily from him. he's overly mean to other students because he's mad that his ex-best friend/childhood crush died. he's a spy for dumbledore because he knows that's what lily would want from him (ish). he secretly helps harry because he is still lily's son. literally every action of this man (who is in the top 10 most important hp characters for this storyline) is because of lily.

i'm pretty sure voldemort wanted both james and lily, not one or the other. both. they are both very powerful and if voldemort gets them than he gets two very powerful wizards that had previously been against them. also yes, i do think james is smarter than lily. but, maybe this is my own hc, but she is more powerful. she's slughorn's favourite even as a muggleborn likely from a working class or middle class family, because she's very good in class. she manages to do that dumb mother-y magic to protect harry (i disagree that it wasn't effective- without it harry would've died when voldemort tried to kill him as a baby. he is the boy who lived because of lily. not saying it's not such a dumb plotline, i honestly think its so fucking stupid- but that's my beef with jkr (well part of it. i hate her so much for countless reasons ofc). and i know you said this bit was more your headcanon, which is fine of course. but in my mind and I'm pretty sure it's canon that there is the sacred 28 (so that's 28 families that are seen as fully pureblooded) and i think voldemort would go after them all, which the potter's are a part of, but again, that's one family out of 28 and he probably only has like half during the 70s. also he went after alice and frank as well- as neville also fitted the prophecy so voldemort tried to recruit alice and frank as well. maybe the guy was just trying to recruit all the order members tbh.

i think with harry seeming to care more about james is more because he knows more about james. like, yes he's been living with his mum's sister for years (oh yeah didn't mention the dursleys. but real quick, the people he grew up with are lily's relatives. he's abused, which is of course a huge part of the protagonist's life, is because of lily and her past with her sister. petunia was jealous that lily was a witch and not her, and disagreed with the way lily lived/who she dated, so then decided to abuse her sister's son after her sister died). anyway, harry only really has petunia to tell him about his mum, who isn't really gonna do that, especially in a nice way. he does have slughorn for like a year, who tells him a bit. and remus, who also tells him a little (and i think sirius does?? i don't remember), and then obviously you have severus' memories. which i wouldn't really fully trust either. whilst harry has got his dad's best friend and his other close friend telling him stuff for several years. james was more outgoing in school, so there's also more teachers/hagrid/rosmerta that remember james more and have stories for harry about him. whilst lily has a lot less. but that doesn't mean she's not as important to harry. they're both what harry wants more than anything- equally. (also i very much disagree with the molly being practically his mother. like as someone with a mum a bit like molly, she very much does not see him as a son/he doesn't see her as a mother. if she treated him as a son, she wouldn't act so nice to him and be so mean to her actual kids. she puts on a charade in front of harry to appear as the perfect family. my mum would do that when i had friends over. harry is not a son to her, but an outsider that she has to impress or she'll feel embarrassed. mcgonagall is more a mum to harry, or even sirius is more his mum.

we don't really know how james or lily fully acted. but tbh i don't think he acts like either of them, personally. like yes he's into quidditch like james. but who says lily wasn't a quidditch fan too?

what is potter luck? i've never actually heard that before and I'm so curious. like is being a potter give you luck in life?? is that a thing?? why have i not heard that?? is that canon?? (i haven't read/watched in ages so forgive me if this is like. a huge thing in harry potter that I've just completely forgotten about)

^you are so very right here. i fully agree. but i don't think it takes away lily's importance. i think it becomes part of jkr's sexism/sexist writing. she just loves to put her female characters in mother/wife roles and give them absolutely nothing else. because being a mother is just so fucking important and the biggest thing in a women's life whilst being a father isn't important at all and is just what a man comes home to after a day at work. but being a mother is all a women has, being a mother gives you mother superpowers and magic baking abilities. (sorry i got mad at jkr). lily is the mother. james is james. god you are so fucking right. lily is defined by the men around her.

apart from the letter!!!! i've been building up to this. but the letter. mwah the letter. we get a letter from lily!! remember that?? lily writes a letter to sirius thanking him for the toy broom he got harry?? and its lily's actual fucking words instead of someone's else's memory of her?? but we don't have that for james, we only ever have other people talking about him, never any of his own words (if you want to view snape's memories as actually what happened in the past then you can, i just tend to view it more as what memories actually are- biased and warped over time). but we have lily's own words and handwriting!! and she's still just fulfilling a role as mother and friend and wife but at least this is her own voice/writing in it and although it's not words that are too harry, he does get a small glimpse into lily and how she spoke (well, wrote), which he doesn't get from james, sadly. but he does get lily's!! and that's so important to him and he's the protagonist so its also important for the story as a whole!!

what you said about "make someone else harry's dad and everything changes" is very much true. but that does also apply to lily. make someone harry's mum and harry is no longer raised by the dursleys/raised in an abusive home, or treated badly but secretly helped by severus, or told things by slughorn, or even fucking alive, he would've died as a baby if someone else was his mum.

my closing statement: lily evans is important because i think she's very hot and I'm so very gay for her and also she's the reason the protagonist didn't die as a 1 yr old or whatever.

#hope this made sense <3 #also. as you said as well #feel free to disagree with me #(and i'm not diminishing james in anyway if at all it sounded like it. he's one of my fav characters ever and i love him so much0 #(however if it sounded like i was diminishing severus or jkr in anyway then yes i very much was. they deserve it)#lily evans #marauders era #marauders #james potter #harry potter #anti severus snape #anti jkr

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mimssides · 2 years

Text

The Ego, the Wants and the Hope: 1/4

Masterpost | Taglist | Read on AO3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

___

“Once upon a time there was a man. He was colourful like the rainbow and had several colourful sides which represented facets of his personality.

“One of those sides was red. He had many things he ruled over. He was Creativity first. He was also the Ego, the representant of the man’s Wants and Hopes. Red loved his parts deeply. He adored creating. He liked to give his man confidence when he wavered or to let his man bathe in the praise after a job well done. He was happy enough to go after the man’s wants and see him happy when he reached his goal. He loved to hope for a better future for the man and his friends.

“Yet it didn’t remain like this forever. Red was hurting. Red was sad. Red couldn’t tell the others though. Cyan was carrying the heavy heart of the man. Green was troubled by monsters beyond his understanding. Purple was bitter and afraid of the situation he found himself in. Yellow wanted Red on his side but Red hadn’t seen it and made him his enemy. Indigo had long since given up trying to fix what was wrong with their relationship which had turned from teasing to despising.

“So Red looked for his own solution. He couldn’t disappear and leave the others without Creativity, without Ego, without his Wants and Hope. So he chose to give up those parts before he left to be happy.

“Green had Creativity already, so he didn’t have to think about that one. His solution came soon to him and in the night he took the Ego out of his throat, the Wants out of his belly, and the Hope out of his heart. He put them in little boxes, wrote three notes and vanished them into Yellow, Purple and Indigo’s rooms.

“In the morning, Yellow rose from his bed and found a note which read: You always wanted Thomas to thrive. I wasn’t brave enough to stand up for him while you were. I trust you to get him farther than I ever could.

“In the morning, Purple rose from his bed and found a note which read: You already have proven to be braver and more determined than I ever was back there with Nico. With them, you will make Thomas unstoppable.

“In the morning, Indigo rose from his bed and found a note which read: Maybe you are a robot but you always had a figuratively big heart. I know that with your mind Thomas will be able to find a way to make his hopes come true.

“As they read they each received Red’s parts and Red could go. He fled into the lands his brother now oversaw, far back away from the others. Settled in a small village where he could help and save whoever wished for his help.”

“Like you did?” asked the little girl directly in front of the Hero.

The Hero smiled softly at her. He winked at her and leaned a little forward as he answered: “Yes just like did, my fair lady.”

“What about his friends?” a little boy asked eagerly.

“What about them, brave one?”

“Did his friends not look for Red?”

The Hero sighed and got down on his knee before the boy. He held out his hand for the boy to take it. The boy took it.

“They didn’t like what happened. The Ego made Yellow think that he would be too vulnerable to defend it. The Wants confused Purple with their initial pulls and muddled his mind. The Hope burned in Indigo's chest and overwhelmed the mind which had to suppress his ideas for a long time. And Cyan and Green were worried too. They missed Red and were afraid of what would happen to the others now with Red’s parts inside of them.”

The Hero paused for a moment and looked over to the mouth of the valley. Up here on his little hill, he could see far over and had a good look at who or what was coming into the small village he had called under his protection.

“So, they planned,” the Hero said and looked back to the boy and the other children, ”to get their Red back. With the help of Green, they would be able to find him. Rescue him. Reason with him. But they didn’t know that they couldn’t save him. For he didn’t need saving anymore. He didn’t exist anymore. Without his parts, he was simply a figment of the man’s imagination. Nothing important. Nothing relevant anymore.”

A girl sniffled. The Hero’s eyes grew soft and he rubbed the tear away from her cheek.

“Do not cry for him, young one. The figment which was left didn’t mourn the loss. It didn’t understand the grasp and depth of Red’s sacrifice. It could do what brought Red joy and made it feel useful. And it would show as much to the other colours once they would reach it. And they would mourn for Red, now that he couldn’t anymore. They would be angry for and at him. And eventually, hopefully, happy that he was able to give something back to them.”

With that, the Hero ended the storytime for the day. Gently he sent the children back to their homes and got into his hut. He had to skin the rabbits he had caught in the forest, hang their pelt to dry and prepare their meat for drying. He would also have to clean the place. It’s been an eventful time since he had entered the valley, and he had enjoyed every minute of it.

Though he didn’t get to his hut as a thunderous scream came from the mouth of the valley. The Hero didn’t run to grab his sword but calmly walked towards the noise. He waved away the villagers who wanted to come out and help him. He knew he would be able to deal with it himself and didn’t need to involve the poor people of this place in this confrontation.

He stood still at a little elevation down the hill and watched a flurry of green speed up to him. No fear was sitting in his chest as it came towards him faster and faster. Not an inkling of terror shook him as it stopped right in front of his nose and puffed angrily right into his face.

“What the flying fuck is wrong with that maggot-riddled shit head of yours.”

The Hero smiled into the moustached face. He knew it well. He also knew the figures who had followed him and were closing in on them.

With a slight bow, the Hero stepped back and smiled at the five newcomers.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” the Hero greeted them. “I am sure you have a lot to discuss and ask me. Let’s go to my place where you will have enough space to sit down.”

He didn’t wait for their answer and turned towards his hut. They could get their answers if they followed. It was completely up to them now.

Patton had tears in his eyes. Roman didn’t wear his usual outfit. It was a simple white shirt. No red sash, no shiny buttons nor golden tinsels. A simple white shirt, brown linen pants and well-worn leather boots. He tried to catch the look of any of the others, but Logan and Remus were already walking close behind Roman, Virgil following them at a little distance. Only Janus was still standing with him but stared at the back of Roman’s head with blank eyes.

Quickly Patton reached for Janus’s hand and squeezed it. He shot him a look but didn’t pull away.

“Let’s go and follow them. Remus certainly won’t try to do anything to his brother,” Janus mused and pulled them towards the rest.

Shortly they had reached the hut and Roman opened the door for them before he stopped and held up his hand.

“Wait, maybe doing this outside would be wiser.”

Logan spied inside the room and asked: “Why? Is there something we should not see?”

Roman smiled at him and pointed to something. Logan furrowed his brows before he found what he had been pointing at.

“I don’t mind you seeing,” Roman said to Logan, “but I feel like it might upset some of my other guests. Hunting isn’t for the faint of heart.”

“Hm, I agree. I wasn’t aware that you could hunt and eviscerate animals,” Logan said making both Patton and Virgil go rather pale.

Roman shrugged and pointed them towards a table with two benches on each side next to the hut. Janus pulled Patton over there to sit down, Logan joining them soon after. Only Remus and Virgil remained standing watching Roman suspiciously as he made no effort to join them.

“Go sit. I’m getting beverages for you all since you seem to be rather rattled,” Roman explained still standing in the doorway of his hut.

Grumbling Virgil followed the others and pulled Remus with him. Quietly the five sat for a moment before Virgil broke the silence between them first.

“Why the fuck is he living in a murder cabin? What kind of prince is that?”

Remus threw his hands into the air and growled: “I don’t fucking know, emo racoon! Nothing of this makes a fucking lick of sense! He had his own boring, always flourishing kingdom and now it’s- it doesn’t seem to belong to him anymore. It’s like he doesn’t exist here anymore.”

“This has to be part of the stunt he pulled last night,” Janus said before either of them could make this into a fight. “The Imagination is part of his domain. He must have manipulated it so that they would forget him.”

Solemnly Remus shook his head and scratched his moustache. It wasn’t that easy. They were able to create whatever they liked but once their creations were made and they had given them free will, they had a hard time controlling their creations anymore. It was possible to put the people of the Imagination under a spell or maybe even change their memories to some extent, but that left marks on the land and a scent in the air Remus would have noticed. As it was now, it felt like Roman had never existed in the Imagination at all.

“Thank you for waiting. I don’t have any coffee, so I hope you will accept some herbal tea instead,” Roman said carrying a huge pitcher and six mugs towards the table.

Patton sprung to his feet to help him and the two distributed the mugs. Peacefully Roman poured them their tea and sat down on the tree trunk on the top of the table. To his left sat Remus and Virgil, and to his right Logan, Janus and Patton. He smiled at all of them and sweetened his tea with a bit of honey before he stirred it a little.

“I wasn’t aware you liked sweet tea, Roman,” Janus said trying to make idle conversation.

Roman lifted the mug to his lips, sipped a little and sat it back down gently.

“Roman liked sweet tea quite a bit. But his favourite was Green tea. I myself am partial to both,” Roman explained.

His words garnered weird looks from all of them.

“I’m not Roman. I know you are looking for him but you are not going to find him.”

“Falsehood. I am sitting literally right next to you. We have found you already,” Logan argued but Roman shook his head still patiently smiling.

“You are sitting next to me but I am not Roman. I know that is hard to understand but essentially you are more him right now than I am and ever will be.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? How is Logan more Roman than you are? And what’s that whole, I’m not Roman spiel anyway? Who are you then?” Virgil asked.

Roman bowed his head and folded his hands on the table.

“Well, I will try to explain. Roman gave you and these two gentlemen to my left the three most crucial functions of his, as you know. These are the parts that made up most of his very being. Without them, he simply cannot exist anymore. I am merely the rest of him. Little quirks and traits, which made him unique but aren’t relevant to the human’s well-being anyway.”

Birds chirped in the trees. The busy noises from the town were carried over to them by the wind.

“So, what are you?”

Roman looked to Remus. He saw the thoughts rush through his mind, the weight of the coming realisation hitting him slowly.

“I am the Hero of this valley. The lost Prince from a faraway kingdom, who decided to make this his home. The Knight of the simple people.”

“Okay, no, princey that’s bullshit. We’re leaving with you now and checking you’re head.”

“I would love to follow and humour you but I cannot go outside of the Imagination. I will seize to exist.”

Virgil barked out a laugh in disbelief. Roman’s smile fell and he watched him in deep sadness. The laugh drizzled into a sad hysteric cacophony of giggles. Frantically he shook his head and pressed his hands over his chest and stared down at himself in a slight panic.

From the other side of the table, Logan tried to calm him: “Virgil breathe. In and out. Everything is alright-”

“Fuck it is!” Virgil interrupted. “He just said he’s just a figment of the Imagination now!”

“We all are figments of Thomas’s imagination-”

“Not like that! We’re more complex than those villagers and monsters and ducks and whatever the fuck lives here! We have, I don’t know, we have desires, dreams, and thoughts of our own! For fucks’ sake we’re some sort of fucked up people in a way and he just said he’s not that anymore! I get to fucking freak out now!”

Patton got up and Logan tried to reason with him as Janus rolled his eyes and looked over to the two Creativities. He didn’t like what he saw. Remus was staring at Roman(?) and the latter looked far too serene for the panic that was rising around them all. Roman(?) didn’t panic, not like Virgil did, certainly not, but usually he got louder declaring that he would get everything under control and/or slay the problem at hand with some flowery analogy. But nothing of that bravado was shining through now and he had to worry.

“Isn’t it easy to hide here? In the realm that you created to love you? To indulge every one of your whims? Being celebrated as the hero?”

Janus had kept his voice low enough so Patton and Logan, who were still focused on calming down Virgil, wouldn’t hear it. Remus and Roman(?) did hear him though, as they had focused on the deceitful facet. Something wild was glinting in Remus’s eyes and Roman(?) gave him that sad smile he had put on far too many times in the last fifteen minutes.

“I believe you misunderstand what the Imagination was for Roman. Would you like that Remus and I explain it to you? It is a little more complex than people would think at first,” Roman(?) asked.

Janus furrowed his brows and eyed Remus. Remus though didn’t notice his glances, fully focused on Roman(?) and was on his feet the moment Roman(?) got up with a gentle wave. Janus furrowed his brows as he told the other three to wait at the table. Remus, Janus and he would walk over to the clearing and come back in a few minutes. Logan told him that they could leave as Patton spoke soothingly to Virgil.

The trio went on its way and for a few moments silence settled over them. Janus could hear the rustling of the leaves in the trees and bushes, the whispering of the wind and the very faint chatter of the villagers.

“He trusted you with his most fragile part,” Roman(?) said gently.

Janus glanced at him and so did Remus. Yet he just stared straight ahead while motioning towards the mouth and continued: “It was his greatest weakness and probably also his most powerful asset. The Ego feeds from validation which seems very easy to get if you are the side responsible of creating literally everything that makes this space up. But there are rules the Creativities have to follow. Things to keep in mind and be smart about.”

Roman(?) shot Remus a look and he scratched his stubbly chin before he gave a short nod.

“There are limits to our powers in this place,” Remus began and looked straight ahead just like Roman(?) did. “We have only limited control over the sentient beings we create. Nudge them in a direction maybe but complete mind control only can be achieved with magic. Which we know but still, it’s an ordeal to make everything work and get all the ingredients and circumstances right to get a spell to work.”

“As for the non-sentient beings,” Roman(?) budded in, “Remus and Roman have or had more control over them. But also with them, there are limitations. Every being gets a “Spark”, their willpower so to speak, when they are created by them. And some beings, also some specific plants and even mountains or rivers, have such a strong “Spark” that Remus and Roman are or were unable to completely control them. They would act of their own volition.”

“Which means that they don’t necessarily act as we want them to.”

“No, they don’t have to. But most of them are grateful for Remus and Roman. They do and did love their makers in their own ways.”

“I doubt it.”

Roman(?) laughed and stepped in front of them both, twirling around and walking backwards before them so he could face Remus.

“Do you know, why Roman wanted me to be in this valley?” he asked and Remus shook his head. “Many of the elders are the survivors from the third split.”

Remus stopped. His face was devoid of emotions and Janus grabbed for his hand. He didn’t know what was going on and only listened baffled as Roman(?) continued.

“They were the ones that survived because of the Green Curse. It’s why they decided to build this town so far away from the capital and so close to the border. They didn’t want to leave Roman’s territory but wanted to be close to-”

Remus held up his hand. Calmly, Roman(?) bowed his head and as if nothing had happened the twins(?) continued walking. Quietly they reached the mouth of the valley. Janus stood between the twins(?), Remus to his left and Roman(?) to his right. They stared right ahead and watched the hilly plains in front of them sit in the rough winds.

“They love him too.”

“They did.”

Remus growled and Janus felt a slight pain close to his ribs.

“He didn’t believe it?”

(Not)Roman looked to Remus and then to Janus. He took a light breath before he put his hands in his pockets, eyes once more on the horizon.

“He couldn’t, no. The Ego lacked confidence. Confidence was supposed to build up with reassurance and praise when it doubted. But with Wants and Hope in the same body, Roman had a peculiar combination of traits. The Wants shaped by Morality made him want to never be a burden, to be able to do things on his own. The Wants only accepted praise which was given without asking, only by some people it allowed to matter for the Ego. And the Ego gave in and let the Wants dictate what it was allowed to accept. And with time the Ego believed they had tricked those who complimented the human without prompting into complimenting him. So even that praise and reassurance had been nullified. Confidence was at an absolute low before he came to his decision to end his current existence.”

Janus’s chest hurt. It felt like his whole side was pulsating with bruises.

“He killed himself.”

Janus wanted to grab Remus’s hand again, as words escaped him, but his arm didn’t cooperate.

“Yes, in a way he did. He gave his parts up so he could be free of the pain.”

Remus growled at the scenery, at the world, at the idiocy of his brother. Before he could say anything else a whimper from beside him ripped him out of the upset whirlwind of emotions in his mind. Janus pressed his hands, all six of them, on his left side and fell to his knees. Wide-eyed Remus stared at him, immediately scanning for any wounds as (not)Roman knelt down in front of the snake side. Gently he pulled Janus’s hands away and softly set his own on the spot. The two locked eyes and (not)Roman watched him patiently, lacking the smile he had before.

“You are a good actor, but unlike Roman, you are not used to keeping your mask up for so long,” (not)Roman said. “He has become very proficient in hiding the pain the Ego caused him when he realized his mistakes. Maybe he would rejoice to see your reaction initially. His feelings weren’t validated in a while and seeing you realize how your actions contributed to his state, might have itched a spot.”

Janus was shaking and tears welled in his human eye. Because of him, Roman had started to distrust the compliments he had been given. Because he had used him for his plans because he had mocked him. He had undermined his confidence and self-worth. He had undermined Thomas’s self-worth. What kind of self-preservation was he, when he actively hurt the Ego of his human?

“But he wouldn’t rejoice for long.”

Janus hung on the Hero’s lips. On the words, he spoke.

“I certainly don’t,” the Hero said and softly stroked over Janus’s pained side. “What you did may have caused him pain at first, but I know that in the end, your actions will serve the Ego. You fought for the human’s desires and our bruised Ego. And while it hurt Roman in the process, I wish it wouldn’t hurt you. You do not deserve that. Neither did Roman, but now he is free and you feel the pain momentarily. I am sorry you do.”

Janus choked as a wave hit him and Remus now knelt by his left and held him by his shoulder. The pain didn’t subside but somehow it felt immediately more bearable, now that he felt both of them with him.

“Is there something to make it stop?” Remus hushed over Janus’s grunts.

Janus couldn’t see but the Hero nodded and cupped Janus’s chin. He slightly tilted it upwards, forcing him to look into the Hero’s eyes.

“You are doing well. It hurts you but you’re holding up. I know you will succeed. You are strong. You are clever. You have Thomas’s best interests in mind, which is what makes you ruthless. Which is why you need to be ruthless because the others aren’t. And it’s not evil, it simply is. You simply are and that’s all you need to be. You are enough. You are good.”

The sincerity of the Hero’s words cooled the ripples of pain. His breathing grew slower and his unshed tears ebbed away. After a moment he wondered why the pain was fading though. The reassurance was prompted by Remus and the Ego was not allowed to accept it if it wasn’t up to the Wants standards, which hadn’t changed as far as Janus knew. So why was he feeling better now?

“You are forgiven.”

Janus’s eyes went wide. He looked at the Hero and felt faint. He said the truth. Janus wouldn’t believe it if it wasn’t for-

He gasped. The Hero smiled sadly.

“Roman made me the Ego because I know when people lie to me. I am the only one who can always be reassured out of the pain.”

Remus cursed. The Hero helped Janus back on his feet. The three began to journey back to the others.

The Ego had begun to settle into its new side and the Hero had fulfilled the first of his final quests.

___

@vexelore

@exhaustedfander

@alexisrealgay

@wolfs-feder

@just-a-neoclassical-painting

@winter-jay-official

@a-ghostlight-for-roman

@mychemically-imbalanced-romance

@whattheremus

@regalredrose

@spellingwillbethedeathofme

@sarenicide

For this fic:

@residentfangirl2104

@fangirltothefullest

#sanders sides #roman sanders #ts roman #roman angst #multichapter #Ego Wants and Hope #suicide mention #suicide attempt #eir writes #please reblog

13 notes · View notes

askthekuvaqbrothers · 3 years

Note

What does Toni think about Argus, Cletus and especially Rufus right now?

“I must thank you again for all your help.”

“Please, think nothing of it. I'm just glad I could be of some assistance.”

Burnert laughed, "Modesty is all well and good, but you could learn to take a compliment.”

Hermes sheepishly scratched his neck. Setting up suitable storage for explosives and flammable material had been critical for Elysium's development, so doing on it a small scale for a store was a breeze. With the new system in place, sorting and moving the volatile material from the store would be much safer.

While brushing himself off, a flicker of movement caught his eye, where it followed to a small shape that had darted behind Burnert.

“Oh, look who’s come to say hello.”

“Who might this be?”

“My sweet little daughter. Go on, introduce yourself.”

Burnet gave a little push to her back, and Hermes knelt as not to be so imposing,offering his warmest smile. After a moment of shuffling her feet, the little girl stepped out from behind her fathers legs, looking up from under a fringe of orange curls.

“My name is Toni. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Such good manners. It’s very nice to meet you too Toni. My name is Hermes.”

She grabbed back onto her father's leg, but smiled and continued watching him.

“You know, I think my boys would be around the same ages as you.”

“Would they be the three tiny terrors the town has been gossiping about?”

He suppressed a sigh, already well aware of the rumors that permeated the area. He’d been trying to keep them indoors and away from the public while they were still adjusting to their growth, but curiosity was a nigh unstoppable force.

“They are… as troublesome as children can be.”

“I’m just joking with you. Hey, why don’t you bring them around for lunch tomorrow? Toni doesn’t mind a bit of dirt, I’m sure they’d enjoy new company. It’ll be a play date!”

Hermes righted himself, slowly in care of his poor back, and put a hand to his chin. Maybe it was time to go outside their comfort zone, socialise beyond shopping and work. This could be good for them.

"Sure, we'll come by at midday."

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

Carefully twisting the pot in hand, Toni felt her smile begin to stretch her cheeks. After weeks and weeks of love and care, the little cactus shoot had flowered into a burst of bright pink. It was her biggest gardening achievement so far, and her parents would be thrilled to see something so pretty in this grubby town-

Something struck her in the back, causing her grip to slip, sending the little plant tumbling to the ground. The pot shattered on impact, and the cactus rolled free from its dirt, squashing its new petals. After a moment to register what just happened, she spun to look at the filthy plant murderer.

"Uh, hello?"

A small boy was the criminal, with a mess of red hair and a blindingly orange shirt. He had a piece of pipe in hand and a kind of blank look on his face, like he wasn’t aware of the offence he had committed.

“You-!”

“Me? Oh! Me!” His whole face lit up with a grin, “I’m Rufus!”

He grabbed her hand and shook it with voracity, still proudly swinging the pipe awfully close to her other plants

“Ruuufus! Ruuufus! Brave and strong, fighting eeeeevil! He’s so cool! He’s so cool! He’s Ruuuufus!”

Another pot was sent crashing to the ground, snapping Toni out of her confused trance. Her anger returned, so she grabbed the boy in a headlock.

“That’s it, now you’re gonna get it!”

“Gah! C-captured!” He squirmed in her hold, “Ahrg, and with the strength of a dragon-!”

“What are you doing?”

Toni shook aside her hair to get a look at the other new arrivals. Two other boys had wandered closer, one with blue hair with a toy sword raised defensively, and the one with green hair tucked in a cloak. They both had the same face as the criminal in her arms.

“Are you two here to murder my plants too?!”

The cloaked one looked at her like she was crazy, “Hu, murder? What are you talking about? We’re just here for the idiot.”

The armed one nodded, “You better drop him, now.”

“Not before he apologises for breaking my stuff.”

The sword lowered, “Rufus…”

“I didn’t do anything, Argus! I just introduced myself.”

“Then why are there broken bits on the ground?”

“They were… there when I got here.”

Toni tightened her grip, “I saw you do it, murderer.”

The green haired boy sighed, “So dramatic. Look, if you pick them up and put them back in the dirt they should be fi-”

“Myhe myeh I’m Cletus and I think I’m sooooo smart. If oooonly my words didn’t put people to sleep.”

“...that’s it, Argus give me the sword. Girl, drop him.”

“What? But he-” She grumbled, “Oh I’ll drop him.”

Toni adjusted her grip, grabbing Rufus under the arms, before pivoting to spin with all her might. He was small enough to be dragged along with her motion, before letting him fly at the other two. When they collided, she pounced, tackling the boys to the ground in an all out tussle.

It was only a few minutes later that Hermes came across the scene. He’d been frantically searching since losing track of the boys as they crossed town, but the sound of laughter and shouting had drawn him over towards Burnert’s home. There, he’d found a pile of limbs that made up four children, and a mess of broken plant pots and dirt surrounding them. He hesitated, unsure if he should try to break up the fight, just as Burnet came up beside him

“Well would you look at that, friends already!”

Toni was atop the pile, laughing triumphantly, while Rufus also laughed along as he rubbed Cletus’ face into the dirt, who was in turn kicking Argus who was trapped at the bottom.

“Are you sure?”

Burnert patted him on the back, smiling wide.

“Kids have their own language, and it’s not guaranteed you’ll learn it, but with smiles like those, I bet this’ll friendship to last a lifetime.”

#Deponia #Deponia Rufus #Deponia Toni #Deponia Hermes #Deponia Cletus #Deponia Argus #Deponia Burnert #Kuvaq Brothers

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mynotsohealthyobsession · 3 years

Text

Babe

Book: RoD

Pairing: Colt x MC

Warning: Fluff / A couple of swearing

Words: 1.267

**Tags in the reblog**

Ellie pulled the hem of the skirt she was wearing self-consciously. When she had tried it in the mall early that day, she had felt sexy, almost unstoppable. But now, leaning against Colt's bike with his arm around her waist, she wasn't so sure. Compared to all the other women there, she felt underdressed and dull. Like a kid pretending to be a grown up.

She always had struggled with her self esteem, even when she knew she shouldn't. She was smart enough to have a full scholarship, had amazing friends and a boyfriend that, even with his cranky personality, loved her. But, as she looked around, she couldn't avoid thinking how different she was from the rest of the women there. They all looked so confident, having fun, flirting around, wearing clothes that she wished to be brave enough to use. Sometimes she wondered if he maybe liked that type more, after all he had been in this world, surrendered by women like these, forever. While Colt was chatting with some guy about his bike, Ellie's eyes drifted around. The music mixed up with the noise of different engines and the voices of the excited crowd, enfolding her while her eyes drifted around, made her curious and a little thoughtful. His attention was in the conversation but his arm kept holding her, near to him, a little possessive, making her feel safe and happy to be with him.

"I'm going for a beer." His voice snapped her attention back to him. The guy had gone and they were alone again. "You want anything, El?"

"Um... No. I'm fine, thanks." She smiled at him.

"Suit yourself." He took her chin and smacked his lips against hers, briefly but intense enough, and stood up, releasing her waist and face. "I'll be right--"

"Well, well, well… What do we have here?" The voice, foxy and deep, came from behind his back where a woman was standing with one hand on her small waist and the other twisting a strand of her long hair between her fingers. "If it's no other than Colt Kaneko in flesh and blood." She grinned as Colt faced her.

"I didn't know you were back in town, Rox." His face was stoic as always, watching her walking towards him, completely ignoring Ellie. I look small beside Colt but, come on, I'm not invisible. The voice inside her complained and she narrowed her eyes at the brunette in front of them.

"I got back a few days ago." Ellie looked at Colt's face but he was serious as always. "I don't even get a hug?" She pouted exaggeratedly, her full lips popping out. "After all the fun we used to have together." She winked flirty. Oh, come on!

Ellie rolled her eyes and took a more detailed look at 'Rox', buffing annoyed. She was tall, probably taller than she was, walking in a pair of high and thin heels wearing just a short black dress with cuts showing her skin in the right places. Leaving little to the imagination, but enough. Her lips were voluminous, painted in a deep red and her hair long, almost to her waist, highlighting her perfect body. She not only is his ex but also is beautiful like a model. And she is shameless flirting with him.

"You know I don't hug." He leaned back to the bike, crossing his arms.

"Not with clothes, you mean." To Ellie's annoyance, she roamed his body with her eyes, noticing his muscles under the clothes. "What a shame. I would love to have you wrapped around me again." She flipped her hair back with her hand. Ugh. This is too much. She agreed with the inside voice.

"Aren't you going to introduce us, babe?" Okay, that was good. Her voice had sounded confident and the 'babe' thing hadn't come up wired. Rox took away her gaze from him, noticing her for the first time.

Before Colt could answer, she giggled, and fixed her perfectly cat-eye eyeliner stare in her. "I didn't know you were into middle school girls now." Ouch. Ellie's cheeks blushed with anger but quickly plastered a smile on her face. Fake, but still a smile.

"He isn't. I'm in college actually." She said, trying to sound as cold as she could.

"A goody two shoes? For real, Colt?" She laughed mockingly. Oh, that is. Game on.

"Cut it off, Rox." Colt took her waist again, rolling his eyes.

"It's okay, babe." Ellie replied, still grinning brightly. "It's true that I still look a little younger. But I guess that it's not a problem you have, right Rox?" She put the perfect amount of sarcasm in the last word.

"No, of course not. I don't need my ID to get in at clubs." Ellie chuckled, leaning against Colt's side, as close as she could, noticing his hold tightening around her.

"I don't doubt it! The bright side is that I will always look younger, even when i”m your age." She looked at him, still smiling, letting her hand casually touch his inner thigh. Who is the goody two shoes now, huh? "You never told me you were into older women too!" Even before watched her, she noticed Rox's anger. Ha! Checkpoint.

"I'm not." He squeezed her waist a bit as she made an exaggerated surprised face, staring at Rox again.

"Oh… I guess I just thought…" She moved her hand dismissively. "Nevermind."

"You thought what?" Her tone wasn't seductive anymore, fuming at Ellie. Perfect, exactly where I want you.

"Well, I thought you were at least 33 but my bad!"

"Excuse me?!" If this reaction didn't deserve a self pat on the back, she didn't know what would. Rox's eyes almost popped out of her face, a mix of fury and horror in them.

"I'm sorry. I guess that your heavy makeup marking the wrinkles around your eyes confused me." Colt snorted beside her as she enjoyed the fruits of her comment. Honestly, it felt really good. Rox stood as tall as she was, sending daggers to Ellie, who still smiled innocently. People really should stop underestimating me. Once more, she agreed with the voice.

"Of course you are mistaken. I guess people don't have to be smart anymore to go to college."

"If you say so." She looked at Colt again, completely ignoring her. "I changed my mind. I want a beer too, babe." She cupped his cheek, leading his face towards hers and passionately crushed her lips with his as he lowered his hand to her hips, pulling her closer.

"Ugh, whatever." She grinned into the kiss hearing her buff followed by her steps leaving them alone. Checkmate, bitch.

When they separated, settling again on the side of the bike, Colt lifted his eyebrow, intently observing her. "Really, El? Babe?"

"What? Maybe it's my new pet name for you."

"She made you that jealous huh?" He cockily grinned, looking at her cheeks flushing, crossing her arms, buffing a little.

"Shut up." He kept gazing at her with the corners of his lips still up with a smug smirk. "I'm not jealous."

"Let's pretend that I buy that." He rolled his eyes, standing again. "Do you still want that beer?"

"Sure thing, babe." Colt stared at her, serious and impasible, in silence. "Okay, yes, sounds weird."

"No kidding." He said ironically and she smirked at his annoyance.

"Yeah, you are too cranky for it." Without another word, he walked to one of the food trucks as Ellie sighed happily. After all, a victory, even the little ones, always felt satisfactory.

✨

#rodaw #rodaw 2021 #colt kaneko x mc #colt kaneko #choices ride or die #colt x mc #rod colt #choices rod #ride or die appreciation week

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aprilsrant · 4 years

Text

Lay all your love on me | Oliver Wood x Slytherin!Fem!Reader.

SUMMARY: (Y/N)’s been crushing on the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain for over three years. Now, in their seventh and last year of Hogwarts, her friends are determined to get them together.

WORD COUNT: 2,833.

WARNINGS: underage drinking. (If there are more and I didn’t put them, let me know).

NEXT PARTS:

Honey Honey! (part two)

When I kissed the teacher (part three).

A/N: so, this came out because of a random idea and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. For some reason, I like to imagine wizards dancing to ABBA, of course it’s the muggleborns and maybe halfbloods that know about them. This was written while I listened to Lay all your love on me, slowed down, on repeat. I algo gave the reader’s friends name because it was easier, and I may or mat not based their personality on my own close friends…

English is not my first language so if there are any mistakes, I’m sorry! Reblog if you can, and if you have any suggestions or requests just DM!

Masterlist.

tags: @peeves-a-legend (thank you for everything).

The Ravenclaw vs Hufflepuff Quidditch match had ended with a win for the eagle’s house, although the other team did not make it easy for them. The Hufflepuffs were known for their patience and hard working nature, giving up easily was not one of their traits and that’s exactly what everyone had seen on the match this afternoon. They knew their opponent’s Seeker, Cho Chang was getting better with each game she played, so the Captain of the Hufflepuff Team decided their best chance was, if he wasn’t fast enough to catch the snitch that is, to lash out against the poor Keeper.

And so they did.

The Chasers, Preece, Macavoy and Applebee, were unstoppable. On the occasion the Quaffle landed in their hands, which had been like seventy percent of the time, they would use many different strategies to confuse the other players, including the Keeper, and score a goal.

Even after their brilliant performance, Ravenclaw still won by twenty points ahead when Cho Chang caught the snitch. A small distraction from the Hufflepuff Seeker and Captain had cost them the victory, but that didn’t discourage the badgers, hell, (Y/N) thought nothing could after how well they had played. She had never felt so much respect for the usually overlooked House.

That was pretty much the reason why the Ravenclaws were so eager to celebrate their win and had invited the whole school, or at least everyone up to the age of fifteen, to their Common Room. Many people believed they weren’t capable of throwing a good party since they were supposed to be smart and have their head on a book every minute, but (Y/N) never doubted them. One of her best friends was a Ravenclaw and that girl sure knew how to have fun, school and good grades being the last thing on her mind whenever she got sight of the Firewhisky.

If you had asked for (Y/N)’s opinion, she would tell you Ravenclaws were the seconds best at Hogwarts on the matter of hosting parties, Slytherins right up to them. Albeit that may have been biased, she herself was a Slytherin and, thinking about it, she never went to any Gryffindor parties because, well, no one except her other friend wanted a Slytherin there. Many of them thought they were some kind of saints just because they were brave and didn’t realise they were, instead, a bunch of reckless and prejudiced twats. The remaining house, Hufflepuff, took parties to a whole other level and sometimes it became all a little too much. She wasn’t much of a party person but she still enjoyed them from time to time, but they went insane any time alcohol was in the room and started to come up with crazy ideas that would, with no doubt, get them expelled.

After waiting ten minutes for a member of the house to step out and answer the riddle for her, which (Y/N) knew you didn’t need to be part of the house to reply but even as a Slytherin and having, supposedly, a cunning and intelligent mind she sucked at those kind of questions; she, and twenty others, finally entered the Ravenclaw Common Room, which was completely renovated since the last time she had visited it.

The circular and wide room was filled with students from all the four houses making it seem smaller than it actually was. The moon shone, filtering through the arched windows, barely illuminated but some flickering and colour changing lights on the ceiling made it work. The furniture was against the wall on the left side so people could dance freely in the middle, while the tables on the right bursted with food and bottles of alcohol. A muggle radio had been placed on one of the large table’s corner and to (Y/N)’s delight, it wasn’t playing any songs by the Weird Sisters. She loathed that band since last year when some students, presumably Gryffindors, enchanted the speakers on the hallways to repeatedly play one of the group’s songs.

The girl started to move towards the left side of the room, avoiding the crowd growing larger and larger. Trying to catch some familiar faces, she stood on her tiptoes and observed the room, but the lack of light and her problem with seeing things from afar, made her search harder. A couple of minutes had passed when she recognized the trio she was friends with. They were waving and screaming her name, trying to catch her attention, right beside the door that led to the dormitories.

(Y/N) grinned at them while walking in their direction. Once she settled on Isla’s side, her best friend since childhood, some of her nerves were washed away a little. It was easier for her to be in a place packed with people if she had her close friends as company. Dorian, the last one to join the group in their fifth year, offered her a black cup with, judging by the smell, Quintin Black, her favourite. The corners of her mouth quirking up as a way of saying thanks without having to shout at him to make herself be heard through the loud music.

The Multicolour Quartet — name they all despised but stood with it because it was one of Dorian’s drunk comments when he realised how they were all from different houses; (Y/N) was the Slytherin, he was the Gryffindor, and the other two, Isla and Ethan, were both Ravenclaws — easily fell in a conversation about Isla’s brilliant performance as Chaser for her House’s Team, the other three complimenting her whenever she started to list all the errors that almost allowed the Hufflepuffs to win.

Spacing out of her friend’s chat, (Y/N)’s eyes peer round the room looking, nearly in a desperate way, for someone in particular. Answering the comments the other three made with a simple nod of her head or a yes to seem like she was paying attention, her eyes fixated in a figure directly across from them, supporting it’s body’s weight on a wall. He was surrounded by some of his classmates and friends from the same house, but she could still see, albeit with great trouble, his short brown hair and his right hand holding a black cup, equal to the one she had.

She failed to realise that her friends had noticed where her attention travelled to. Sharing knowing glances and smirks they knew it was time for (Y/N) to talk to the boy she’d been crushing on for three years now. Isla and Ethan left saying some people were starting to cause trouble, not that (Y/N) had actually listened to them, too lost in attempting to catch another glimpse of the boy. That ended on Dorian, the most chaotic of the four, finding the way to make them, at least, share two or three words.

Suddenly, she felt a hand on her left arm dragging her along the room and pushing people on the way. That belonged to Dorian and it didn’t take long for her to understand what he was doing, his mischievous smile betraying him. Her eyes widened and she shook her head while planting her feet on the floor, putting all her strength on them so he wouldn’t move her. She didn’t succeed. Obviously because of his friend’s stronger hands.

A chant of pleas and several no exited from her mouth, but it was useless. If something got inside Dorian’s head, then nothing could stop him from doing it. A trait they both shared and the cause of a few of their arguments, neither of them knew when to back the hell down. Not even the promise of (Y/N) doing his Arithmancy homework for two weeks made him stop on his tracks. Dorian had really compromised to the cause because she knew how much he detested that subject, only taking it to please his father.

Before she could raise the offer to a month, they were already in front of him and the group he was chatting with.

Oliver Wood smiled at the two friends, recognizing only one of them but still being kind and inviting towards her, whose heart was about to jump out of her chest from how fast it was beating.

“Hey, Wood, how’re you doing?,” Dorian greeted him first and then nodded at the others as if he was saying hi, “preparing for the Quidditch match next week?”

(Y/N) stood awkwardly by Dorian’s side, looking and smiling shyly at people she had never interacted with. She was going to cut this boy’s head of the minute everyone left.

“Yeah, the Hufflepuffs played like hell today.” She heard Oliver say. His words tumbling with each other. Was he already starting to get drunk? “I think I’ll need to book more practices if we want to win next week”.

Luckily, or not, Dorian noticed he hadn’t introduced his friend to the group yet. And even if she didn’t like to just stand there like a rigid stick, she hated the new attention.

“This is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), by the way,” he announced while placing his right hand on the upper side of her back and pushing her body to the front. And the shy smile made an appearance on her face once more.

She whispered a small hello, looking at everyone but Oliver, and instantly felt the need to jump off the Astronomy Tower, not long after making Dorian the next designated Gryffindor Ghost.

“What house are you in? I’ve never seen you before,” questioned one of the boys next to Oliver with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and a lost look on his eyes, as if he was trying to place her and remember the colours of the tie she used daily.

“She’s not a Gryffindor, maybe that’s why you haven’t seen her much,” Dorian answered before she had the chance to, “she’s actually a Slytherin.” A new expression on his face now, intimidating the others to see if they dared to express some kind of negative or stupid comment to his friend about the house she belonged to. No one said anything. She saw Dorian smiling proudly from the corner of her eye, but in that moment (Y/N) had the weird sensation she was some kind of prey to starving lions.

The group began to talk to each again, like nothing happened, all except Oliver, who was looking at her with his eyebrows raised and an intriguing sparkle in his dark brown eyes.

Dorian spoked once more.

Does he ever shut up?

“Remember the other day you said you were falling behind in Potions and Transfiguration?” Oliver nodded at him, signalising her friend to keep talking. “Well, I have the perfect person to help you with that. (Y/N) tutors me from time to time in those subjects too.”

Forget the Astronomy Tower, she desperately needed some kind of magical earthquake that could crack the floor beneath her feet and swallow her whole.

It’s not like Dorian was lying, she had helped him, and still did sometimes, to study for an important test, not only in Potions and Transfiguration, but also in the rest of the subjects they shared. Merlin knew that boy was a disaster when talking about paying attention to classes. But that didn’t mean she was good enough to tutor Oliver freaking Wood. (Y/N) could treat Dorian how she wanted if he wasn’t trying to, at least, know what she was talking about, they were friends and most of their time together was spent hitting each other, but how was she supposed to act around the precious Gryffindor Quidditch Captain?

“Great!,” Oliver exclaimed quickly. A sudden blush crept all the way from below his turtle neck to his cheeks, but she couldn’t identify if it happened because of the alcohol or embarrassment from sounding “too enthusiastic”. He cleared his throat before speaking again. “I was about to start looking for one. McGonagall said that if I don’t get my grades up to an Exceeds Expectations, I won’t be able to play the rest of the matches.”

“That sucks, but you’d found one already so you two can start immediately with the tutoring sessions”, Dorian commented slily while looking at her with the smile of a champion adorning his face.

He was trying exceptionally hard, she had to give him that.

In a swift movement, she drank the whole content of her cup to see if the knot that had formed on her stomach would go away. The blonde girl, perhaps a member of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, beside (Y/N) noticed her drink was missing and offered her to reach out for one of the bottles of the table across. The Slytherin nodded and asked for the bottle of Quintin Black if there was still one.

“So you like Scottish things?” Oliver observed, with his eyes lighted up and his bottom lip stuck beneath his teeth, when he saw her grab the bottle of alcohol filled to the middle with onyx liquid.

“She sure does.” She heard Dorian mumble, he had tried to hide the smirk burying his face on his cup but (Y/N) took notice of that too. After giving him a pointed look, she turned her head towards Oliver, who, hopefully, hadn’t heard her friend’s remark; if he had, he was good at concealing it.

Her response was interrupted by the starting melody of “Lay all your love on me”, one of her favourite songs, and a voice that could only belong to her best friend, screaming her name. Out of nowhere, Isla took her hand, said something to Oliver and Dorian about returning her to them later, and yanked (Y/N) to the direction of the made up dance floor, making her almost drop the cup she was holding.

It was an unspoken rule between them, whenever one of their favourite songs was on the radio, they would stop what they were doing, important or not, and start to dance and sing, without caring about other people’s opinion. It was something like a ritual that had become a safe space and a signature of their friendship for both of the girls.

A few seconds through the song had played when Celine stopped dancing and approached her friend, whispering something in her ear.

“Okay, don’t look and don’t freak out, but Oliver hot stuff Wood is staring at you.”

“What? What do I do?”

“Just keep dancing, I guess, maybe he likes it.”

“I don’t know how to dance, why would he like it?”

Confusion and panic in her eyes, (Y/N) tried to think about all the logical reasons Oliver Wood, one of the most attractive guys in the school, could be watching her dance. The girl knew she wasn’t beautiful, even if her best friend repeatedly said so, she wasn’t funny or interesting and, on top of all, she belonged in Slytherin, the House with the worst reputation.

“No idea, but whatever it is, keep doing it.”

Her best friend winked at her, a large and contagious smile spreading over her face. Grabbing one of (Y/N)’s hands, she made her twirl around following the fast beat of the song. Seizing the opportunity, (Y/N) glanced at Oliver and discovered that he was, indeed, staring at her while he drank from his black cup.

A random and unexpected laugh flew out of her mouth. Her best friend, carefree as always, began to giggle with her while dancing around the room. She had never felt more alive, and some people would think she was ridiculous for actually thinking it, but singing her favourite song at the top of her lungs, dancing and laughing and just having fun with her best friend. Excitement running through her veins uniting with the nerves Oliver’s attention towards her had provoked; a slight headache caused by the alcohol mixing with the new confidence coming from the same thing.

Aware of the dark brown eyes focusing on her, she turned around once more, but this time she didn’t look away. She kept singing, beaming at him from the middle of the dance floor, and maintaining eye contact. A sudden thought appeared on her mind, if she’d had maybe one more full cup of Quintin Black, perhaps she would’ve been confident enough to ask him on a date.

Don’t go wasting your emotions, lay all your love on me.

Don’t go sharing your devotion, lay all your love on me.

(Y/N) didn’t think that he would take that as an invitation when she whispered the words while looking at him, it wasn’t even meant to be one, but Oliver Wood had left his cup on the table next to him and was now walking towards her.

A little small talk, a smile and baby I was stuck.

I still don’t know what you’ve done with me.

#harry potter #harry potter oneshot #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #slytherin!reader #oliver wood #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood x slytherin!reader #slytherin #harry potter fanfiction #oliver wood imagine #fluff #oliver wood fanfiction #oliver wood oneshot #hp imagine

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embrassemoi · 3 years

Text

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 18

Pairings: Sirius B, Remus L, [F]Reader CW: mentions of abuse, throwing up, depression, horrible coping mechanisms, implied sexual references A/N: Read CW for this chap.

【 Masterlist: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter 】

Chapter 18: Love Isn’t a Magic Potion

━━━━━━━━━༻✩༺━━━━━━━━━

February 14th, 1976

There wasn’t quite another person like James Potter who knew what unrequited love felt like.

After years of harbouring feelings for Lily, making a fool of himself, his failed attempts of trying to impress her; she never seemed to take interest. Lily always sent him disgusted looks, never passing up the opportunity to call him a dirty arrogant toe-rag.

And sure, it phased him sometimes; her words cutting deep, but despite it all, James still believed in the fairytales, the sparks, the magic of true love, finding your soulmate — your better half. His parents were his main inspiration for love. Years — decades they’d been together and still, the love they held for one another, so fierce and unstoppable, it even shocked James at times.

A long time ago, when he truly understood the concept of love, he made a promise that he wouldn’t settle for anything but for the fairytales, the sparks, the magic of true love, finding his soulmate — his better half.

He wanted all of it. The good days, the bad days, the glitter and sparkles, the cheesy one-liners; long walks on the beach, nursing them back to health after they caught the flu, watching the sunsets, dancing in the rain — even the stupid petty arguments. He wanted all of it.

No matter how long it took to find them, he would; after all, everyone had their person.

Maybe that’s why he chased after Lily for so long — hoping for that romantic love — the love that’s made for movie screens — the type of love that conquered all. But he wouldn’t continue to beat on a dead horse, especially if Lily didn’t want that.

He wouldn’t force her and certainly, he wouldn’t harass her.

But, James would consider himself lucky, he found his friends — they were already his platonic soulmates and he’d go to the ends of the earth for each of them. His parents, the Marauders, Marlene, now Whiskers; he was always surrounded by only the purest amount of love.

He was never a person to cover up his emotions — hardly, that is. He wore his heart proudly on his sleeve, never once letting others dictate his life and the way that he loved. He laid himself bare, open, and there was a beauty to it that words couldn’t describe.

Love truly conquered all, whether it be romantic or platonic.

But to the women that fell in love with Sirius Black, well — there wasn’t quite another group of people like them who knew what unrequited love felt like — not even James ‘Oi, Evans!’ Potter could compare.

Love is shit.

Love is cruel.

Love is unfair.

Sirius would go on date after date. One fleeting look and soon enough, he had women at his feet, falling for his devilish charm that captivated them in seconds.

They swooned over his chiselled jaw and thick glossy hair; eyes so mysterious with profound, moonlit mirth. The epicanthic folds highlighted his sharp and pointed look that they swore cut through them, searching through the deepest part of their souls.

He was a part or used to be a part of the oldest and most noble Pureblood families in the country. He was rich, of high status, French, could speak five languages and a mischievous bad boy straight out of your classic Muggle film.

Falling in love with Sirius Black was an easy task, so simple and it could happen in a blink of an eye. The realization would come either fast or slow depending on the poor lovesick git who let themselves fall.

But getting Sirius Black to return that affection was an impossible task.

He was raised as a gentleman and would play the part before becoming bored. They were all fillers, the people he dated.

He would admit it, he’s a bit of a dick.

He never fell in love with anyone he’s dated so far — never got past the fancying stage and even then, it was never strong. It never made him feel those butterflies that James described them as. His heart never jumped, never sped up fast, he never felt his skin heat nor did their laugh ever put him into a trance — nothing like what he described them to be like. If anything, he’d always break it off with the girls he found himself getting too comfortable with; always severing it before it became too much.

Although, it technically never was his fault that they fell in love. Most of his admirers like to daydream from afar, or they’d make a promise at the beginning — no strings attached.

Well for them, it did. It almost always ended with strings attached with Sirius holding a pair of shiny scissors at the end of fried thread.

He did not believe in the fairytales, the sparks, the magic of true love, finding your soulmate — your better half.

But that doesn't mean he didn’t want it.

But, above all, Sirius Black considered himself to be a realist. Unlike James, he couldn't — he wouldn’t let himself believe in that shit anymore. Love is disappointing and it does nothing but hurt you, nothing but a filler he used to distract himself with, no matter who it was. Love did not fix his fuck ups nor himself.

All of the adoring admirers, the ones that lined up for him, they would all leave if they caught a glimpse of the worst parts of him. The ugly, nasty parts. He used rage as a means of defence, he pushed the people he loves away, he was moody, dramatic and above all, reckless.

All they wanted was to take, use him for his body — they wouldn’t love him if they knew him. The real him: the ugly side along with the beautiful one he wore. The side that wasn’t always adventurous, daring, bold, brave… happy, go-getting.

Nobody would stay for the ugly part of him.

In that regard, Sirius was unloveable. Completely, utterly unloveable.

Currently, the uglier, caged part of Sirius re-emerged as he writhed around in his bed. Eyes moved rapidly behind eyelids, squinted in pain as he squirmed around, clutching the bed sheets tightly. His head flopped from side to side as he was unable to wake; stuck in a nightmare.

“You mudblood lover —” “Don’t call them that!” “Babies, Regulus, babies!” “It’s killing me to stay.” “CRUCI —”

Sirius woke with a jolt, choking on a strangled scream that clawed at his throat. His mind seemed to be encased in a wordless static, muting him to the noise around him as he felt the rapid, hard thumps against his chest. Distantly, he could feel his body raking in waves as the sticky, cold feeling of his sweat dripped from his temple and down the side of his face. It made his hair stick to his forehead uncomfortably yet somehow, despite the sweating and the overwhelming feeling of heat, he felt ice cold.

He swallowed thickly, sniffingly away the stinging growing behind his eyelids but failed as a few stray tears had already settled on his cheeks. Sirius looked around frantically, meeting the familiar red and gold bed sheets that were now pushed off of him as he sat upright in his bed. Red velvet drapes hung around the sides, pulled together as slivers of bright light sliced through them. It made him squint and focus on the surroundings.

Soon enough, it felt like a weight lifted off his chest, marked in unspoken forgiveness once realizing where he was.

You’re safe, his inner voice spoke firmly, It was just a dream. A dream.

“Wakey, wakey Padfoot!”

He had just enough time to wipe the freshly fallen tears away before James ripped back his curtains, jumping into his bed. He drew a deep sigh, avoiding James’ eyes and trained them to look outside.

Upon the grass and mountains, snow sprinkled on much like sugar over a cake. The distant chirping of birds could be heard singing their usual song, or more like an alarm clock, as they soared high in the sky without a worry in the world.

If only Sirius could be a bird, what a simple life he would lead.

“Fuck you,” groaned Remus, “He might be awake, but I’m not.” His eyes clenched in annoyance, throwing his blanket over his head.

“Well aren’t you lovely? Isn’t he, Sirius?”

“The loveliest,” he managed to grit out, throat groggy and dry.

“Shut up!”

“Okay, calm down big bad wolf.”

“Well,” he mocks James, his voice going an octave higher, “This big bad wolf can maul you.”

James beamed brightly, the ever morning person he was, unaffected by Moony’s response. Instead, he padded his way over to him, shaking him before Remus flipped the covers off his body, tackling him into his bed.

“Do you guys think I should cut my hair?” James managed to get out as he gasped. Remus sprawled out on top of him, pinning him in place as he was being crushed from his weight. “I want to make sure I look good for today.”

“You’re always in need of a trim,” Peter called out.

“You look fine,” Remus added, “Besides, you and scissors are not a good move right now.”

Meanwhile, Sirius’ stomach felt hollow, worry ate at his very being before he felt something rise within his throat. Quickly, swinging his legs over the edge, Sirius made his way to the loo in a rush while James and Remus were both distracted.

Peter was there, rifling through the cabinets with his toothbrush dangling from his lips. “Morning,” he said, not quite looking over to him, “Do we have any more toothpaste? I keep telling Prongs not to use so much…”

“Get out,” he managed to say before shoving Peter out of the door, closing it shut. He barely managed to cast a silencing charm before opening the lid of the toilet seat, throwing up. For the most part, Sirius gagged on air before finally attempting to collect himself, preventing hyperventilation.

Foolishly, even up until that dreaded night, Sirius had an ounce of hope. For what exactly, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was hope that Regulus might have turned out different, or maybe it was hope that he’d finally be accepted, even though he knew that would never be the case — never with parents like Walburga or Orion.

But every time he dared to dream, to hope, he was always quickly reminded why it hurt. Hope was dangerous, a false sense of reality — a taste of what people dreamt and chase for but could never quite grasp.

It was more addicting than any kind of alcohol he drank — or the girls — or pranks.

Eventually, he got up from the floor, jumped in the shower and followed his morning routine before wrapping a towel around himself and stepped out.

Sirius was drying his hair before catching a glimpse of himself in the large mirror in front of the sink.

Sirius had never been insecure about the way he looked. A part of him, the arrogant and narcissistic part of him knew that he looked good and he’d flaunt it. But there were times like today, where he’d look at himself, but feel as if he’s looking at a familiar face that wasn’t his — a monster reflected back.

He wondered if this is what Moony felt like.

For a moment, Sirius let his face rest, allowing the helpless, loitering fear and guilt he felt engrave its way onto the smooth surface of his skin.

The eyes looking back at him today were his father’s, his hair reminded him too much of Regulus, his high cheekbones reminded him of Walburga and the tired, slightly crazed look reminded him of Bellatrix.

A member of the Black family, that's what people saw when they first looked at Sirius, the heir of the most noble and ancient house of Black.

Sirius Orion Black.

Orion Black… Even his name made him want to cry out in rage. Another reminder.

Pushing back his wet hair, he studied the faded scar that disappeared into his hairline.

It was more apparent than ever that Sirius had scars.

But unlike James, whose scars were from happy memories of the Quidditch pitch, or Peter, whose only scars were from chopping chocolate for a fancy baking recipe — and lastly, Remus, whose scars were visible, laid out for everyone to see, Sirius’ scars were invisible.

He wore them day in and day out without anyone ever knowing.

With a blink, he drowned out his thoughts immediately; his dreams, his past, his thoughts were for another time.

He sucked in a breath, clicking the door open.

Remus was the only other person still in the dorm. He stood in front of the mirror, buttoning up his white school shirt before ducking down and grabbed his bag, shoving in books, his wand and any other loose pages of parchment that he assumed was for his little study group.

“Where’s Wormy and James?” He asked, not liking the way his voice sounded wobbly and hoarse. His eyes no longer peered up at his chap, instead looking around the room. Anywhere but his face.

Thankfully, Moony didn’t seem to notice, preoccupied with the now overflowing pile of Valentine gifts and cards on his bedside. He grew frustrated with them with every passing second as they littered his space.

“Accio bin!”

The black bin from across the room flew into Remus’ hand, quickly shoving the letters in but soon a guilty look flashed across his face.

Remus had always been too considerate about their feelings, perhaps Sirius should take a page from his book.

Sirius had a pile accumulating on the carpet beside his trunk; it seemed like more and more people every year were confessing their feelings, but this time, Remus seemed to be getting a lot more along with the rest of the Marauders. But he smiled, happy to know that Remus had been getting some action. He fucking needed it.

“Er — sorry, Pete’s off to Wood’s room to borrow their toothpaste and James —” Remus cut himself off, bringing a hand to the sides of his temples as he moved them in circular motions. “I’m pretty sure Prongs went to find Y/N. Something about finishing a sign or a song for today —”

Sirius bit back a laugh, “A song?”

“I guess he’s fucking Paul McCartney now.”

Remus passed him, disappeared into the loo, giving enough time for Sirius to get dressed.

It was his third dream that week about that night and it was wearing down on him emotionally. He was losing sleep, he wasn’t eating, he was reclining from the Marauders, he was so prone to anger; lashing out, yelling… he didn’t like how he was acting — it reminded him too much of Orion.

And the thought made him sick to his stomach. He didn’t want to be a monster.

Lost in his depressing thoughts, Remus re-entered the room. But instead of walking up to his bed, Remus halted, looking directly at him before he crossed the room, putting a protective, encouraging hand onto his shoulder. A serious and calculated look crossed his face.

“Do you need anything?” He spoke in a hushed voice, as if he were to speak any louder, the walls might hear.

Sirius felt unexpected annoyance brewing in his chest. Bloody fucking Lupin, of course he knew — using his heightened senses to sniff out his distress.

Unlike Sirius, who hid his emotions, who covered and buried even a sign of weakness, who searched for answers high and low, Remus was so blunt — clear cut with his emotions. He knew just what to say, knew what was happening before others did even if they hadn’t even spoken yet.

He wished his thought process was as clear-cut as Moony’s.

“What do you mean? I’m fine,” he said, faking nonchalance. Jokingly, he prodded Remus’ cheek with his finger, “Turning into Moomy, again?”

His friend did not smile, concern still latched on.

“You know I’m always here for —” Before he could say anything more, Sirius hastily grabbed his bag, slinging over his shoulder, bolting out of the room.

Hiding — running away from his problems — that’s what Sirius was an expert on. And like that, he switched off that part — the ugly, unloveable part of his brain for the day.

When Sirius reached the Great Hall, he wasn’t surprised when a dozen owls bombarded him with letters and chocolates. It brought a sly smile to his lips

What? He did say he was arrogant.

“Looking grand, Black,” Marlene teased as she observed the overflowing amount of cards already in his arms. She ruffled his hair as he was forced to take the seat next to L/N. Marlene turned to chat with Dorcas, who finally was back on her feet and kicking it.

“It’s not even eight and your bag is filled?!” Peter exclaimed, baffled.

A part of Sirius didn’t feel annoyed as he sat beside her. Maybe it was because his main stressor, the Black family, was out of the picture and he’d been desperately trying to control his lash outs, but Sirius was stumped. Since the break, especially after the ‘Muggle’ incident, he found himself tolerating her presence.

Just a bit.

He understood why James, Remus, Lily, Marlene; why everyone took a liking to her.

But he had an inkling as to why.

Although, his mixed feelings towards her were not helping in the slightest as he dealt with the string of recent events in his life.

She was the one that spoke first, which surprised him.

“Ugh —” Y/N fiddled with the hem of her robes, “Kettleburn wants us to switch the Puffeskin between us. I was thinking since we’re in the same house, we could keep it in one of our dorms. I was thinking about keeping it in yours.”

“Why not yours?”

“They liked to hatch in warm places. Your dorm has a fireplace, right? I remember James telling me you had one… And it would make it easier since women can go into the boy’s dorms.”

For some reason, he couldn’t stop himself — he just couldn’t. “I bet you’re trying to get off quick.”

The accusations did not sit right with her.

For someone like Sirius, someone who dealt with the worst shit imaginable; someone who'd been beaten down, both metaphorically and literally — someone who by the textbook was supposed to curl in on himself — keep to himself, be small, avoid drama, don’t cause arguments — Sirius did anything but that. Everything he did, he made sure to cause a reaction.

“No —”

“Are we about to argue because you want to win, or is it because you want to learn?.”

“You’re so arrogant. I don’t need you for grades. Your brain probably grew twice in size when I turned you into a dog.”

“Didn’t ask.”

“Then why are you replying?”

Sirius rolled his eyes, “Very creative.”

“Do you ever just shut up?” She snaps. Her face inched closer to his.

Unbeknownst to her, for a second, a second that he’d never admit, Sirius' brain falters. They hadn’t been this close to each other since that day after Kettleburn had assigned their group project. He catches the smell of faint floral — tulips, he thinks. Or maybe vanilla? Books? Tea? He couldn’t place it.

But his heart did a funny thing. It never does a funny thing like that and it concerns him. He wasn’t sick, was he?

Silence lingers.

L/N scoffed, “Well finally, it looks like you have.”

Although, she seems completely unphased by their closeness.

“Huh, you really do shut up.”

He snorts, his brain finally working again. “You nag an awful lot.”

“Well, you —”

“Whiskers. You’re a woman, how do I look?” James asked. He came bouncing up to them across the hall from the entrance. He twirls a little, showing off his outfit. In one hand, he held a sign and a bunch of roses. “Would you fancy me?”

“Dropping hints, are we, Potter?” She smirks playfully, “Anyway, I know you nicked that from Sirius.”

Sirius looked over to him, his head nodding up and down but was surprised that she noticed the difference, “She’s right, that is mine. Maybe that’s why you look so good.” He meant for the remark to come off as a joke, but cringed as the words spewed from his mouth. He sounded like a complete arse.

James ignores him, “I have everything planned.” Then, he holds up a sign, all in baby pink with hearts dancing across the page as a huge message declaring his affection for Emmeline was written in bold fonts. I looked fairly cheesy, but that was James for you. A romantic at heart.

“Well,” he starts, clearly happy, “Do you like it?! I’ve also got a song written!”

“Remember the last time you wrote someone a —”

Y/N kicked him, hard, under the table, which caused Sirius to look at her sharply before his face turned annoyed again. She hadn’t even glanced his way yet. She continued to calm James down, giving him a pep talk while Sirius would jump in with encouraging words.

“Of course we love it — is it for Lily or —”

James shakes his head and they both knew who he was referring to.

“— Then Emmeline will love it even more! Get the girl, Bambi!”

James smiled triumphantly, sticking his fist out for a fist bump before running off happily towards the Ravenclaw table.

“Y’know,” Y/N starts, talking to Sirius as they both watch as James gets up on the table, preparing to serenade Emmeline in front of the entire Great Hall with a guitar that vaguely looks like Remus’. “You can choose not to be a dick.”

Surprisingly, he laughed, small, but there. And then, he finds himself responding to her comments, “I beg to differ.”

“Then beg.”

Sirius’ eyes widened, feeling his mouth go dry. He bit the inside of his cheek, eyes fluttering shut a couple times. It didn’t help that she smirked at his reaction and it made Sirius feel funny. An odd swoop piddled at the base of his stomach.

“I’ll take that into consideration for later,” he settled on.

Remus and Lily waltzed into the room, both holding small cards of their own. L/N and Sirius shuffled over as much as they could to fit in with both Remus and Lily.

A part of Sirius’ routine had started incorporating Lily doing his hair. Most often, she did pretty braids or buns — but of course, not without James pouting to him later. He only hoped that with Emmeline’s new presence, James would stop.

“Ooo la-la!” Y/N mocked, swiping one of the cards from Lily and Remus. “You two are popular.” She turned to face Lily.

“It’s n-nothing, really, “Lily stuttered, her head ducking down. But her eyes seemed to look up at her, seemingly in hope of some recognition.

“Don’t be so modest!”

“A-hem!” James’ bostal voice. His foot wobbled on the edge of the table that made them all nervous if he were to fall. He finally concluded his song. Lily looked over and smiled, glad to know that James had finally chosen a different target to annoy.

“Fuckin’ barmy,” Remus muttered out, a hand going to cover his mouth in suspense. His hand travelled down to his chin-stroking his jaw.

“Emmeline, thou beauty —”

“Oh my god,” groaned Remus again, sinking in his seat from the second embarrassment but smiling nevertheless.

However, Marlene whopped loudly, a large grin on her face.

Lily looked over to the scene, her eyes finding their way back to L/N, Peter paled slightly at the scene, Marlene was howling in laughter along with Sirius.

But much like himself, L/N found herself laughing with them too.

Her laughter rang out, and Sirius found himself drawn to the noise. But what was worse, was that he wanted to hear it again.

And even though he knew that other women and even men were staring at him right now, ready to give him all their affection and attention, Sirius found himself unable to look away from her.

He felt his palms getting sweaty, his heart beat harder, he wanted to sit closer to her and a smile tugged at his lips but he forced it down.

Fuck.

It was almost as the realization hit him there like a thousand tidal waves.

His heart jumped, it sped up fast, he felt his skin heat and her laugh put him into a trance — everything like what James described it to feel like.

If it was what he thought it was, Sirius wasn’t quite pleased with his newfound knowledge. He already had too much shit to deal with and certainly, someone like her was not worth it.

As the thought arose, there was something else that pulled him from these thoughts; it was the very shit that Sirius was dealing with, coming to haunt him again.

Regulus entered the Great Hall and Sirius had the urge to run to the nearest bin again. He hadn’t seen him since that night.

Within seconds, Regulus sensed his gaze and their eyes locked.

He wasn’t proud of Regulus, if anything, Sirius resented him — hated him and his entire body spiked in anger as he stared at him. He chose his path. But he couldn’t help but feel immense, dreadful guilt.

He could’ve done more, been there for him more, talked to him more. There were so many possibilities, so many outcomes and Sirius managed to end up with one of the worst paths imaginable.

He both wanted to scoop him up in his arms, cry — hold onto him tight like how they used to years ago, but the other part also wanted to take a Beater’s bat and swing a Bludger at his head.

His head shook slightly, just enough for Regulus to get the hint.

There was a hard, hopeless expression on Regulus’ face as he seemed to take a sharp inhale, his shoulders slumping within every passing second.

They were from two separate worlds, more evident than ever now. They weren’t brothers, not really.

Two of the brightest stars were torn apart forevermore.

Once the bell rang, Sirius sprang out of his seat and walked down the halls. He dodged owls, letters, chocolates and even a few love potions. There was a familiar void that punched its way through Sirius’ chest.

It was too early for firewhiskey, he couldn’t get knackered, he couldn’t talk to James, not when he was this happy and getting a pack of smokes from Remus — he’d bloody know within seconds what was wrong and call a Marauder's meeting or sort out some intervention for his sanity. Besides, he needed to apologize to Peter for how he acted that morning.

So the next best thing; snogging — a quick shag.

The next girl that tossed a flirtatious wink his way, he immediately approached. She was pale, had brown hair, soft skin and he vaguely recognized her but couldn’t quite place it. They flirted, Sirius would suggest it, she smiled, nodding her head and giving out a breathless sigh as Sirius dove for her lips, walking into the nearest broom closet.

Things were fast, almost a blur. She reached down, fumbling with his buckle before it clanked to the floor; he unbuttoned her top, hoisting her up and pushing them against a wall. She let out soft whimpers and he groaned into her neck.

The sensation, the building pleasure had left as soon as it came, leaving him feeling empty once more. He peeled off the girl, checking if she was alright like every other time. He didn’t know her name, forgetting it, and smiled awkwardly as she dressed.

He watched her leave the broom closet, the door clicking softly behind her. He could hear the faint scuffle of her shoes as she skipped down the hall excitedly. She had gotten what she wanted, a piece of Sirius; the Sirius that he put out — the pretty, nicely packaged Sirius.

Bent down, sinking to the floor, rocking on the balls of his feet, arms wrapped tightly around his legs and his head resting on his knees; emotions pooled through Sirius, attacking his frail heart.

Sirius laughs; it was dry, sad, pathetic, defeated. It was hard enough to hide with smiles, pranks, the random girls, sex, but those happy hormones that he craved, it was never, ever enough.

He couldn't go on like this, he had to fix something because something else was bound to break.

His laughing became strained as the walls of his throat began to close, eyes filling with tears. But now, finally alone, he let them cascade freely as his quiet sobs echoed in the dusty closest.

Love isn’t a magic potion.

━━━━━━━━━༻✩༺━━━━━━━━━

【I hope it was clear in this chapter that in no way am I trying to romanticize Sirius's trauma】

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han-shinsuke · 3 years

Text

t o b i o k a g e y a m a

He strikes three consecutive points against the opposing team. Those hits guaranteed their victory. You cheer with the Adlers’s fans, clapping gently with a proud smile on your lips. Far from the front row, from where his friends and team members and some of the significant people in his life, you are in a place where no one would notice your presence. Again, you pray to the Almighty that even just for once, just this once... to get noticed by Kageyama.

You throw yourself a mocking laugh in your head. The players headed back to their locker room. Since the day of the birth of your fascination towards player number twenty, you can’t even try to get his autograph and have a selfie with him. You’re just too shy, terrified and you really lack in what they called 𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, to put it simply, you bear no ounce of privilege and power to get close to him.

You are just a stone in a sea of diamonds.

You left the stadium defeated.

[ three months later ]

You stop seeing his matches live, but still supporting him through online streaming and purchasing their team’s merchandise. It’s not the tiring land travels and late night troubles getting home that pushed you to end the fascination you 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 carry in your heart for him rather, it is your way to prevent a terrifying adoration from growing further. You had crushes before and they were all unable to return your feelings. All of them were now memories. And soonest, he would be, too.

“Uncle Moro has visitor?” there’s a pair of man-sized shoes on the doorstep when you get home from the University you currently attending. Moro Haida is your mom’s new live-in partner. He’s a tailor and he made you clothes like you’re his daughter.

Your mom handed you a glass of water, “yeah, he’s upstairs, resting in your room.”

That news instantly deprives you a clearer air and you ended up coughing the water you just gulped.

“Mama! Why in my room?! You could have offered him the attic! It would be better in there! My posters! He probably thought I’m a stalker!” rushing to your room, you left your mother humming in the kitchen.

As soon as the door knocked open, you bow your head and apologize, “My apology for the mess you have witnessed, sir! I assure you, I intend no harm to the person adhered on the walls of my room—”

He’s milky white and his smell masked the original lavender scent of your room. The aroma coming from him reminded you of the cold season. His hair looks so soft in person and his eyes... they’re the darkest shade of night. And his lips–you pry your eyes away from his alluring charisma. Hands on your chest, a sob escaped your mouth.

“Your mom brought me here because she thought I looked like the guy on your wall and she was right, I’m the athlete on your wall.” He speaks so calmly.

“Ka–Kageyama... why are you here?” in every words, there are consecutive skipbeats of your heart.

“I’m Moro’s client.” He pushes himself off your bed, admiring how you look right now. Tensed. Frozen on your spot.

Kageyama Tobio towers your height.

“O–okay? Would you like to relocate to the attic? It is the coolest place in our home.”

“You do not want me here?” Kageyama tucks your hair behind your right ear. There was a faint electricity when his fingertips brushed against your skin.

“No!” unaware, Kageyama notices how you bit your lower lip. “I just want you to feel comfortable.”

“Y/N, I’ve missed you,” first hit, he kisses the corner of your mouth. Your body shuddered. “I was worried. I thought about you and why you stopped seeing my matches. I thought about you getting tired of supporting me in silence but I also thought you’re not that kind of person. You’re so passionate. You were so brave going home late at night after every game. I watched you wait for the last trip at the terminal. I’ve seen you struggling keeping yourself warm in the cold while you wait for the cab you booked.”

He kissed the other corner. ”And I was there when you spent a night at the shed because you missed the last bus.”

You started sobbing and he thinks his kisses would work so he claims your lips, slides his tongue inside and basks with your warmth. Your hands find the ends of his shirt, you hold there and give him freedom to kiss you properly. Kageyama grabs the back of your head and pushes you closer to his mouth, he swipes his tongue along the width of your upper lip before sucking you inside, nipping the pinkish flesh you deprived from the other men who’ve tried. He withdraws from your mouth, looks you in the eyes and smiles.

“I even signed a contract for endorsing a transportation line company just to ease the distance and time if you decided to watch me play again through your eyes and not through those screens.”

He pulls you much closer to him, to his body and to his warmth you would always miss.

“You knew about me?” still in tears, you look up to him with your swollen lips he locks in his gaze.

“Uh huh, I saw you first at the bus stop when you decided to sleep there to wait for the first morning trip.” Kageyama pecks on your lips, “at first, I didn’t know whom you cheered for but through my continuous observations, you were there for my team, you were there for me. I always knew you would cheer for me, in victory or in defeat.”

“Kageyama—” your cries goes down in cage when he caves on your lips again, lifting your chin up high his chest so that he could kiss you better than earlier.

You feel his tongue running all over inside your mouth while brushing his lips against yours as you try to keep up with his heated kisses.

“How would I explain this to Moro?” He was smirking after the kiss. His thumb on top of your really swollen and reddened lips.

“I like you so much, Tobio,” instead you say.

Obviously, you’re still 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉 from his intoxicating kiss that you didn’t even bother stopping him from unlocking the first button of your blouse. His fingers brushed against the skin of your neck down to the top of your chest.

“Oh, Y/N! Meet my client, Tobio Kageyama from our National Team.” you heard your step-dad’s voice, you remain under Kageyama’s spell so he answers for you.

“Hello, Moro!” He holds you firmly, careful not to show your flushed face and swollen lips. “Can I have more moment with my girl? You know, she’s got mad because I stepped up and introduced myself as her secret boyfriend. She really wants to keep this as a secret.”

What? You snap your head upward and give him a what-the-fuck look.

“Oh, sure! Let me close the door for you two!” When you heard the door closed, you ask immediately, “what? You told them you’re my boyfriend when you aren’t?”

“You do not want me as your boyfriend?” He asks as he continues popping the buttons of your uniform.

“Wait—No—I mean, you would choose a rock over a diamond?” you slap softly his unstoppable fingers doing business with your clothes.

“I would choose you no matter what you become, Y/N,” that left you breathless and powerless as he drags you up to your study table and dips his face on your neck, sucking your skin, leaving soft kisses. “I would not bridge this town to where I reside if I’m not this crazy over you.”

•💕

#love #haikyu #haikyuu #imagines #anime #fluff #imagine #one shot #tobio #kageyama tobio #kageyama hq #hq kageyama #crush #schweiden adlers #hinata shoyo

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cheri-translates · 3 years

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[CN] S2 Gavin and MC in Chapter 11 (Part One)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers from Season 2 🍒

I’m focusing on the interactions between Gavin and MC, not the plot (because the latter requires extensive time and effort that I can’t spare). So the less essential parts are in bullet-point form :>

Phone calls: First l Second

To investigate an issue related to pathological changes in Evolvers, MC heads to a hospital to talk to the director (who is a genuinely kind man)

While they’re discussing the issue, the alarm suddenly goes off, and two Evolvers barge into the office and bring them to the main lobby

Cutting the drama short: Five Evolvers have taken everyone in the hospital hostage. They don’t have weapons, and are subduing everyone with their Evol. The person leading them is a 43-year-old man called Yang Ping, who has a compression Evol. This means he can exert pressure on surrounding objects at will, and can even destroy a person’s organs

Yang Ping releases the Evolvers, but MC decides to stay because she wants to figure out his plan

MC notices a little girl crying, so she controls her own trembling and comforts the girl:

Girl: T-they suddenly barged in! And they said all of us would become hostages... and that they wanted to negotiate with the STF!

A man without a left hand offers the girl a tissue (this fact sounds really random but it’d make sense later!)

MC tells the girl not to worry because her boyfriend the STF will never lose to someone who isn’t on the side of justice:

MC: As long as that person is around, STF will never cower, and will definitely protect everyone’s safety.

The STF arrives at the scene, and Yang Ping uses a row of doctors as a meat shield while he negotiates with the STF

Gavin is in complete Commander Mode™:

Gavin: Your actions have amounted to “endangering public safety”. Release the hostages right now, and the STF will take this into consideration for leniency in punishment.

The moment I hear Gavin’s voice, I finally heave a sigh of relief.

He seems to be standing among a small formation towards the front. Even though I can’t see his face clearly, I know he’s there.

At this moment, it’s as though all the fear is gently pried open by a gust of formless wind, and the leaves outside sway slightly.

As though it’s saying - Don’t be afraid.

Yang Ping states that the recent series of Evolver assassinations and Evolvers going missing shows how they aren’t being protected sufficiently. He demands for the STF to promise to change the way Evolvers are managed, and to give them better privileges and protection. If the STF refuses, they’d start dealing with the hostages one by one

MC spots Gavin with his team, and thinks he can’t see her from where he is

The little girl starts crying again, and it annoys one of the kidnappers. MC is worried he’d harm the girl, so MC speaks up, admitting that she’s an Evolver and that she fully agrees with what Yang Ping said. She tries to reason that hurting a civilian would be ruining the entire plan because they’re the bargaining chips to negotiating with the STF. If any of the civilians were to be harmed, STF would never listen to their requests

The kidnapper recognises MC as a suspect of the assassination incidents, which makes MC think that there’s more to this kidnapping situation than merely waiting privileges and protection

After all, aside from a few people in STF, no one should know that she’s a suspect i.e. there might be a spy in STF PLEASE DON’T BE TANG CHAO LOL

Now, we switch to Gavin’s perspective of the same events

He has received surveillance footage of what's going on in the hospital, and is discussing the issue with Tang Chao and Eli while figuring out how best to get the hostages out...

All of a sudden, Gavin’s pupils widen slightly, eyes focused on one spot, and he freezes.

In the footage, after a stream of Evolvers have left, a girl remains at the same spot. She glances around her surroundings, then smiles as she says something to a little girl, and appears to be consoling the other party quietly.

At this moment, he feels as though his heart has stopped.

What’s she doing here?!

Gavin realises that his right hand is trembling. He clenches it into a tight fist, fingertips buried in his palm, silently turning white.

His mind is a complete blank. All he wants to do is rush in and bring the girl out safely.

Gavin closes his eyes, taking a few deep breaths. When he opens his eyes again, they are filled with an even colder aura.

The sound of his beating heart in his chest gets louder with each beat, as though questioning his forced facade of calmness.

He watches as MC talks to the kidnapper, and realises that MC is using this method to show that she has faith in him

At this point, a call from the “other side” tells him to give up on negotiations and rescue the hostages using force

But Gavin refuses because there’s still time to negotiate, the hostages would be put at great risk, and STF will only use force when truly necessary

The “other side” says it’s an order. So Gavin says that the STF will handle problems using its own ways and hangs up LOL

Tang Chao: Captain Gavin, no matter what you say, the Special Operations Team will only listen to your orders.

Eli: Same for the STF.

A chilly wind brushes the faces of everyone on the scene, but the trust and determination in their eyes remain resolute.

Eli: Also, we aren’t the only ones in this battle.

Gavin smiles, returning his gaze to the small figures in the footage. The girl is standing before the man firmly, reminiscent of a flower that can never be destroyed.

Gavin: She’s always been very brave.

The smile on his lips is abruptly tucked away. Gavin leans in closer to the screen, and sees that the girl is being brought closer to the entrance by one of the kidnappers.

--Every nerve in his body tenses up once again.

And we return to MC’s perspective

As the negotiations progress, Yang Ping tells the kidnappers to bring all the doctors back inside, except one

MC figures out that all this time, the real objective of the kidnappers is to test the STF

Gavin steps forward:

Ever since Gavin and I parted ways at the STF the last time, I haven’t seen him again.

Even though I’ve been asked to report my activities to STF at regular timings, Gavin has been very busy during this period of time, and I haven’t seen him much.

Looking at Gavin in front of me, it seems as though everything else in the world are kept outside a screen, and I can only see his eyes.

His hair is a little fuzzy, but he still looks unstoppable. It’s just that while his eyes have always been determined, they now carry an almost imperceptible worry.

I smile, wanting to tell him that I'm fine. Gavin’s gaze lingers on my face of a few seconds. When he sees my smile, he blinks, then shifts his eyes to the man.

The man and Gavin exchange glances for a few seconds. The corners of his lips simply tug upwards, pushing me around five metres away from Gavin.

Even though it looks like I’m a supporter whom he has incited, I know that I’m just another hostage.

Yang Ping gives Gavin a choice - If Gavin pushes that one doctor out of the window, the kidnappers will release everyone in the hospital and will turn themselves in. But if he chooses to save the doctor, he’d blow up the entire hospital

Basically, the kidnappers are trying to stir hate towards STF because no matter which option he picks, it’s going to cause public uproar

Gavin is quick to point out that the kidnappers haven’t directly hurt any of the civilians. Because they are representing Evolvers, they can’t hurt anyone or it’d give all Evolvers a bad name

Gavin, who represents the STF, has to find a perfect way to resolve this matter - no one can die, even the kidnappers

What he says are actually hints on what MC should do

MC gets it - she pretends to fall to the ground, and cuts her own arm with a dagger she’s hidden

The reason for this is because Yang Ping’s plan rests entirely on his status as “helping Evolvers”. If MC manages to show that Yang Ping would hurt Evolvers too, his plan would fail

While Yang Ping is shocked, Gavin rushes forward and flips Yang Ping onto the ground. The Special Operations Team rush out and arrest them using Evol-neutralising handcuffs

Gavin arrests Yang Ping:

Gavin: Evolvers and humans - neither will be sacrificed, including you. If you think there’s only a superficial peace and balance now, and that you can’t see normal civilians and Evolvers walking down a common path, just open your eyes and look. I’ll walk down that path.

It dawns on MC that she barely made it out of this situation alive, and she shivers. Then, she’s drawn into someone’s arms:

Lifting my head, I see that Gavin’s handsome eyebrows are scrunched up. His hand is holding bandages he took from the medics.

Gavin: You were supposed to pretend. Why did you actually cut yourself?

MC: Doesn't this have a greater impact? It’s more realistic.

He sighs slightly, holding my wounded arm gently and bandaging it meticulously.

Watching as Gavin leans over as he helps me with the bandage, the fear I had suppressed earlier suddenly pour out from my heart like a tidal wave.

MC: I won’t be this rash next time.

Gavin: There won’t be a next time.

When our eyes meet, I see the worry and earnestness in Gavin’s eyes.

MC: Okay, there won’t be a next time.

Thinking that the matter has been settled, MC waves at the hospital’s director from afar, and he smiles at her

A red dot suddenly appears on his forehead, and Gavin tries to rush to the director... but he’s too late, and the director is shot by a sniper... T^T

MC is dumbfounded as she takes in everything that’s happening - shrill cries from the crowd, the STF members who are once again on guard, and the director on the ground

Gavin kneels behind the director. Perhaps if he made it a second earlier, he could have prevented this tragedy.

The STF uniform, which has always been white, is now dyed completely red. There are specks of blood on his face, and droplets of blood roll down the sides of his face slowly.

He kneels in place, and doesn’t turn back for a very long time. The hands at his side tremble slightly, and he quickly balls them into fists.

After a long while, Gavin turns his head expressionlessly, looking at a shocked Yang Ping.

Yang Ping shakes his head repeatedly, muttering softly as he backs away.

Yang Ping: No... this isn’t right...

He stops backing away, as though something dawned on him. Then, he suddenly bursts out laughing.

Yang Ping: ...looks like the people from GRAY RHINO are even better.

In the next second, the sound of a gunshot once again fills the air.

Yang Ping is standing in position, and I watch as blood spatters from his temple.

His eyes are wide open, is in a daze for a moment before toppling to the ground.

Another patch of crimson spreads on the ground. Yang Ping’s twitches slightly, as though saying something, yet no sound comes out.

His eyes remain open till the end, staring at Gavin.

I’m in a state of shock as I take everything in, and feel unsteady on my feet.

An incredibly icy aura exudes from Gavin’s body. He stands up slowly, like a silent volcano.

Gavin: Who was it... who fired the gun?!!

I seem to hear something which had been crumbling finally caving in.

MC gets home somehow and falls asleep LOL same

At the STF office, the Special Operations Team are gathered and there’s a really heavy atmosphere in the air

Tang Chao verifies that the bullet that shot Yang Ping wasn’t from the STF’s sniping team. Another member pipes up and adds that even so, it belongs to STF

Gavin asks for further details, but another officer reports that there are no leads. There’s a possibility that an Evolver did it

Gavin orders them to investigate properly

And sounds really fierce (つω`｡)

Afterwards, Gavin walks along the street and some random man without a left hand steps out of an alley and greets him with: “Captain Gavin, this is the first time we’re meeting.”

By the time I’m roused awake from the heavy downpour, it’s already late at night.

With a sigh, I get up from the sofa and decide to draw the curtains.

Large droplets of rain continuously pelt onto the ground. I stare outside the window in a daze. When my eyes focus, I see a familiar figure downstairs.

MC: ...Gavin?

Taking an umbrella, I rush downstairs. Gavin’s profile enters my vision -- and my heart is tugged.

I have no idea how long he’s been standing in the rain, and his entire self seems to be soaked in it.

The rain has soaked his entire body. Drenched hair sticks to the sides of his face, water droplets continuously sliding off his chin.

The STF uniform is in a mess, sticking to his body. The organisation’s emblem on his chest has been washed till it has lost its metal shine.

I step out of the apartment building slowly, rain pouring down.

I suddenly recall the night he spent accompanying me in the rain a very long time ago.

--it’s as though he’s lost his drive, removed all his defences, and it gives one heartache and sadness.

I have no idea why Gavin is standing here right now, but across the curtain of rain, I seem to once again see that careful heart.

Gavin seems a little surprised by my appearance. His unfocused pupils constrict slightly, and his shoulders tremble imperceptibly.

Gavin: ...why aren’t you asleep?

MC: ...if I were asleep, were you planning to stand in the rain for an entire night?

I walk over slowly, lifting the transparent umbrella over our heads. Rainwater patters against the surface of the umbrella, becoming the only sound in this silence.

Gavin doesn’t speak. His eyes, which have always been shining with light, seem to be layered with the colour of the gray clouds overhead, and an unspeakable dullness.

There’s neither grief nor anger in them. All that’s left is helplessness.

Very slowly, his lips finally twitch slightly, breaking the silence.

Gavin: Aren’t you going to ask?

MC: Nope. If you want to talk, I’ll listen and resolve the problem with you. If you don’t want to talk, I’ll keep you company as we stand here, then...

Gavin: Then?

MC: Trust you.

I smile as I reach out, brushing the drenched fringe in front of his forehead, revealing his beautiful amber eyes.

MC: No matter what happens, I’ll always trust you.

Gavin’s eyes widen slightly. The hands beside him are clenched into fists, trembling slightly.

Gavin: ...you once said that every single one of my bullets are for justice. If you were to find out that perhaps I can’t really do that...

Gavin: ...what would you think?

I’m stunned.

Gavin’s voice is faint, a solid darkness hidden in his words.

His entire self seems to be encumbered by a layer of thick sheet of iron. His back is straight, as though waiting for a final judgment.

MC: I’d look for the truth behind it.

Gavin purses his lips and doesn’t say a word. But I know that he’s waiting for my answer solemnly.

MC: Even if there was really such a bullet, I’d want to further verify why that bullet strayed from its course. And whether, at that point of time when the situation happened, there was really a violation of justice?

Gavin watches me quietly, and I smile as I look at him.

MC: No matter what reason you had for standing there, and for shooting that bullet, you would have done so based on what you saw, heard, and the result of thinking. And I believe in it, and I believe in your judgment at that point of time. That bullet definitely has its meaning.

I say these things instinctively, hoping to give him even the slightest bit of support and courage.

The dim streetlights meld into the water droplets, reflecting into Gavin’s eyes.

The rain gradually lightens. The air Gavin breathes out turns into a white patch of mist in the air.

Gavin: I’ll find the truth behind this matter. I can’t use “I don’t know the true state of affairs” as an excuse. If it’s something I’ve done, I should take responsibility.

Gavin takes the umbrella in my hand, his eyes carrying with them resoluteness and certainty.

Gavin: I don’t want to fail to live up to your trust, but I... have to face up to the truth. To give you, and to give those who no longer have a voice, a genuine explanation.

Two days pass after that rainy evening

Even though MC doesn’t know what Gavin is up to, she can tell that it’s something important and dangerous

She’s at STF to give her regular report, and Gavin walks into the room. His eyes are bloodshot, and he looks thinner and more pallid, and she knows that he’s been working very hard to live up to that promise

I think of comforting him, wanting to tell him not to overdo it, and to take care of his health.

However, the moment I open my mouth, all my emotions morph into a dry greeting.

MC: Gavin, have you been really busy lately?

Gavin doesn’t respond. He simply places his palms on the table between us, his expression solemn as he comes closer to me.

Gavin: Are you investigating the Evol assassinations?

MC: Of course. I’m still a suspect, so I need to think of ways to clear myself of suspicion.

Gavin: This matter could be even more serious than you imagine.

Looking at Gavin’s somewhat resigned expression, I smile.

MC: Things have already reached this stage. What could be even more serious than this? Don’t worry, I know what I'm doing. But are you going to do something dangerous again? You’ve got to take care of yourself. If you need my help, just say it. After all, I’m Nox from Black Swan!

I deliberately use a light-hearted tone, and the corners of Gavin’s lips tug upwards as well.

Gavin: Proudly saying that you’re from Black Swan in the STF - you don’t want to leave, do you?

MC: ...

I freeze. Only when I see the teasing glint in Gavin’s eyes do I realise that he’s toying with me.

At the same time, I release a sigh of relief. At least Gavin is still in the mood for jokes.

Gavin: To be honest, what I need to do is indeed very dangerous, and I need more people whom I can trust completely. With your help, my investigation will definitely progress much more smoothly.

He lifts his head to look into my eyes directly. The light in his amber eyes reveal trust and sincerity.

I’m left astounded. Receiving such an invitation from Gavin for the first time makes my mind lag a little.

MC: Gavin, what you're saying is... that you’re letting me help you?

Gavin: You didn’t mishear.

The faint scent on his body fills my surroundings. In my trance, I even think that a gentle breeze brushed my cheek.

Gavin: ...of course, from my personal perspective, I wouldn’t want you to be involved in such matters. So, you’re free to reject.

MC: Why would I reject! I’m really happy to be of help.

Gavin stares deeply at my smiling face. After a long time, he reveals a somewhat relieved and resigned smile.

Gavin: Thank you, MC.

Part two: here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc gavin #I split this into two because Tumblr tends to eat my screenshots if there are too many HAHA

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catracorner962 · 3 years

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Karaoke

I promise I can write something that’s pure fluff. See?!

In the newly renovated Fright Zone, the gang is having a party. Catra and Glimmer duet Shaggy. Catra has a surprise. --- AJ Michalka has a phenomenal voice and covers "Warriors" on the SheRa soundtrack. She does this in character as Catra and even says "Hey Adora," at the end, what else did you expect me to do with that except come up with an excuse for Catra to sing this for Adora? I'm sure this has been done before this is just my take. Also whenever I hear "Wasn't Me," or "Angel," by Shaggy I imagine Glimmer and Catra getting drunk and singing it.

Adora brought a hand to her nose, trying to cover her snorting laughter. Besider her Bow swayed in time to the music. Light flashed from above blue and pink.

“HA!!”

Adora couldn’t stop herself, exploding into a fit of giggles, nearly toppling the cocktail in her hand. Nearly sending pink liquid all over her white pants and halter top.

On the stage, her girlfriend and her best friend sang like they hadn’t a care in the world.

“How could I forget that I had given her an extra key? All this time she was standing there she never took her eyes off me!”

Glimmer sang into the mic, her purple leather skirt sparkling in the stage lights.

“Wooow! Yeah Glimmer!” Bow cheered, he took another sip of his beer. More delicately then anyone else around them and probably the only one with a modicum of sobriety left. All around them people sang along, swaying and trying to dance.

“To be a true player you have to know how to play!” Catra sang, winking at Adora from her place on the stage. Her hair had grown out again in the year after the war. Already falling just beyond her shoulders. Adora took a sip of her drink to conceal the blush rising in her cheeks.

“ To be a true player you have to know how to play, if she stay a night, convince her stay a day, Never admit to a word when she say. And if she claim, ah, you tell her, "Baby, no way"

“But she caught me on the counter!” Glimmer’s voice cracked but she kept going,

“It wasn’t me!” Catra leaned forward into the mic.

“Saw me banging on the sofa!” Glimmer laughed, leaning in to meet Catra halfway.

“It wasn’t me!”

“I even had her in the shower!”

“They’re not bad,” Bow admitted whispering in Adora’s ear. The blonde nodded, pulling a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. Catra had convinced her to wear it down for once.

“Saw the marks on my shoulder!” Glimmer and Catra sang in unison. Catra unsheathed her claws in flash, winking again, this time a little more suggestively at her girlfriend in the audience. Cheers erupted throughout the bar, an eager welcome Adora thought, her chest warming. To have Catra greeted with rounds of applause rather than boos and hisses and threats.

“ Honey came in and she caught me red-handed, creeping with the girl next door, picture this, we were both butt-naked, banging on the bathroom floor. I had tried to keep her from what she was about to see, why should she believe me when I told her it wasn't me.”

Glimmer and Catra belted through the mic. It was all Adora could do not to transform into Shera. Just the sight of seeing Catra in the limelight, black pants held up by suspenders, her white shirt open just a tad too loose. She took a swig of her whisky mid chorus and continued to sing.

“I have to hand it to Scorpia and Perfuma; they've really done wonders with the Fright Zone,” Bow mused. He clapped along to the music and finished his drink.

“They sure have!” Adora answered, finally turning her attention from the stage. “Glad they were able to renovate the place into a karaoke bar. Somewhere in the distance Mermista’s groan could be heard, Adora turned. Seahawk and the water princess sat at one of the tables, the pirate’s eyes wide with amazement at the flaming martini set down before him.

“Should I….?” Adora made a b-line towards their table. Mermista flunk out her hand, a spray of water dousing the flames.

“Just drink it,” she groaned to Seahawk’s evident dismay. Adora bit back a grin. It had been awhile since they’d been able to just kickback and relax, indulge even. Post-war meant bringing magic to all the galaxy. Which meant traveling around, squashing the last of Prime’s brotherhood. Plus meetings after meetings and much needed reconciliation between Catra, Entrapta, Wrong Hordak, Scorpia and everyone else. It had been trying and difficult and the work was far from finished. But tonight, tonight was a chance to simply let loose.

“Honey came in and she caught me red-handed, creeping with the girl next door, picture this, we were both butt-naked, banging on the bathroom floor. How could I forget that I had, given her an extra key, All this time she was standing there, she never took her eyes off me!!” Glimmer and Catra finished in unison. Again cheers lifted from the crowd. Glimmer bowed, losing her balance until Catra caught her by the arm to steady her and they made their way down the stage.

“Wow, that was...wow,” Scorpia’s face nearly matched the color of her claws. “That was..I don’t think I understood half those words! But uhh next, next...we have...Perfuma! Who I’ve been told is going to do an...an interpretive dance called Ode to Rain, so that will be….uhh….fantastic.” Scorpia laughed nervously but clapped all the same while Perfuma seemingly floated up the stage.

“Hey!” Glimmer greeted Adora with a hug and Bow with a kiss.

“You were great!” Bow put his arm around her waist. “Who knew you and Catra could duet so well together!”

Glimmer laughed, full and hearty, accepting a glass of sparkling wine from Bow.

“Where is Catra?” Adora looked around the crowd. “I thought she came down with you?”

“She said she had to get ready for something,” Glimmer shrugged.

Adora nodded, trying to quell the bubble of anxiety that threatened to rise.

Catra would be fine, she can be left alone. She’s not a child. She’s perfectly capable.

Bodies pressed against Adora in the maylay of the crowd. Talking and drinking and laughing. The lights flashed all around them. Dizzying.

There’s so many people here….what if...there could be….threats. Some clone we forgot?

Someone wanting to take Catra down?

Adora forced herself to breathe, gripping her glass tight.

“Adora, you alright?” Glimmer touched her arm.

“Yes!” She smiled automatically, “I’m great!” She took a breath, eyes flicking upward as Perfuma left the stage.

Still no sign of Catra.

“It’s just...I worry sometimes...I worry about leaving Catra alone sometimes...what if there’s…”

Glimmer opened her mouth to respond when a cool light drifted across the crowd from above to the stage.

“Adora….you might want to…” Glimmer pointed. Adora followed her gaze, jaw nearly dropping to the floor. Silhouetted against the limelight a lone figure stood before the mic. The outline of someone wearing a tight fitting black dress that fanned out toward the bottom. Catra’s tail swished nervously behind her, ears flicking. She stepped forward, the high slit of her dress revealing one leg as she moved. The light illuminating her freckled face, mismatched eyes gleaming.

“Oh my….” Adora took the last sip of her drink. Beside her bow gasped. Even Glimmer’s eyes stared wide with shock. The hub-bub of the crowd died instantly, everyone holding their breath. Even Emily and Entrapta, who were observing in the corner, fell silent.

Catra’s shaky inhale of breath sounded through the mic throughout the bar. Adora waited, stunned. Taking in her girlfriend, the deep V of her dress, the way she shifted her weight. Then finally, after a mini-eternity, Catra’s eyes slipped close and her voice drifted out:

“We're warriors, unstoppable. We feel the evil coming, and shadows all around.”

She sang low and haunting, each word a melodic whisper. Goosebumps rose on Adora’s skin.

“Danger surrounds us, but won't bring us down. We're on the edge of greatness, turning darkness to liiightt,”

Her voice undulated and moved like the waves, the crowd beginning to hum. She opened her eyes, gold and blue sparkling in the light. Catra’s gaze looked through the throngs of people finally meeting Adora’s. The blonde felt her knees shake, she passed her glass to Glimmer without looking away. Catra smiled,

“We're right beside you, ready to fight. We must be strong! And we must be brave! We gotta find every bit of strength that we have and never let it go!”

“Wooo!! Yaaaah!!!” People exclaimed, clapping. Catra’s smile widened, she took the mic from it’s stand, now walking across the stage, tall and proud and brimming with pride. Adora’s cheeks ached, beaming with a smile. She too clapped along.

“We're bound to this struggle, with mighty sword and flame, we'll never fail you, when you call our name.”

She turned, again meeting Adora’s radiant face across the audience. Their eyes met, though Adora could hardly see her through a fog of tears pressing against her eyes. Her heart expanded so fast and full she thought it would explode. Catra too grinned with confidence, revealing pointed fangs. Her eyes dazzled, shoulders lifting as she sang, not once looking away from Adora.

“Together we'll be heroes, joining forces as one. Strong as the steel we carry, we rise like a su...uu...uu...un!”

She hit the note perfectly, the whole bar erupting into ecstatic joy.

“Yeah Horde Scum!” Glimmer fist pumped at the air, jumping up and down. Off to the side of the stage, Perfuma pat Scorpia on the shoulder through her tears.

“That’s my wildcat!”

Catra sang through another round of the chorus, parading back and forth. People reached out from below towards her, laughing and whooping.

“Cause we're warriors, we are unstoppable,nothing's gonna get in our way. We're gonna win in the end….”

Catra sang through the last chorus, coming to stand gracefully before the microphone stand once more.

“We're gonna reach inside, still together and fight and never let it go. We must be strong…” She finished with a flourishing whisper. Looking at Adora from her poised position stage, she blinked, slowly, her own voice cracking with emotion.

“Hey Adora.”

Tears streamed down Adora’s face, her heart hammering in her chest. She could feel herself glowing, transforming, this time brought on by pride and admiration for Catra. Catra who only sang in secret, in dark places, until now. Catra who had always deserved every bit of attention and affection and praise but never got it, until now. Catra who was so guarded who never let herself betray emotion or vulnerability, until now.

There was a white flash, people gasped, and Adora didn’t need to look down at herself to know she’d become Shera.

Catra climbed down from the stage with Scorpia’s assistance and made her way Adora, people parting for her instantly, cheering and clapping.

“Catra! Y...you! You’re…”

Catra’s lips cut off the rest of her sentence, pressing in a full deep kiss, nearly melting against Adora, well, Shera’s chest. Adora put her arms around her girlfriend holding her close, one hand to the small of her back. She had to control herself in public after all, though it was hard to do with her girlfriend looking so...so ravishingly gorgeous, so happy and exuberant. A new round of tears spilled down her cheeks.

“I knew you could sing,” she breathed, breaking the kiss only to press her forehead against Catra’s which required her to lean down a little more in this form. “But not...l...like that.”

Catra laughed, holding Adora’s hand to her face and leaning into her touch. The ruckus of people seemingly disappearing. The only thing that mattered, the center of her universe was already right in front of her.

“I love you,” Catra whispered.

“I love you too, so much.” Adora pulled her in for another kiss, the cheers escalating around them.

Catra rolled her eyes only to be shoved by Glimmer’s arms around her waist.

“Catra, where was that voice when we were singing?! I need to up my game!”

“That...that was beautiful Catra!�� Bow wiped his eyes with his yellow jacket. “Absolutely beautiful.”

“Alright, alright Sparkles,” she pulled away from Adora’s hold. “Next time we do Angel by Shaggy I’ll be sure to really sing it with pathos, yeah? And take it easy Arrow Boy your gonna get snot all over your jacket.”

Glimmer only rolled her eyes but gave Catra a kiss on the cheek.

“Well next rounds on me Wildcat!” Scorpia announced happily clapping Catra across the back gently. This time Catra didn’t stiffen or bristle at the touch but smirked. A testament to how far she’d come in such a short time. Adora could hardly contain her emotion.

“You may regret that Scorp.”

The night continued on, Catra changed back into more comfortable pants and dress-shirt. Rogeilo sang...well..grunt roared some prolonged ballad that no one but Lonnie understood. Mermista and Seahawk performed no less than seven shanties. A curtin was set on fire by the third one. Frosta entertained with a series of impressive ice sculptures and Double Trouble, dramatic as they were, impressions that left everyone’s sides sore from laughter. Scorpia closed out the evening, singing a rendition of “Beautiful,” by Christina Aguilera that had everyone, even Catra in tears by the end. Though Catra swore her eyes were she only irritated by the bright lights.

Adora put her arms around Catra from behind, still having advantage of being in her Shera form. Muscular arms holding her girlfriend close in the dark of the crowd while Scorpia, sang her last few notes. Catra swayed in tandem, tail going around her girlfriend’s leg, she leaned her back against Shera’s broad torso and hummed. Adora planted a kiss on the crown of Catra’s head. The mark of the Heart of Etheria glowing against her chest. In the mass of folks and the company of friends, lights glowing and Catra content in her arms, sniffled happily through tears of joy.

They had indeed won in the end.

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pinepickled · 3 years

Note

How about something Gen? Team Minato gets lost in a forest ans have to find each other. Sensei strategizes. Kakashi summons a tracking dog, rin follows the rivers but Obito gets Very Lost and perhaps stumbles upon something he shouldn’t. Maybe a sleepy Old Forest god? Shenanigans are always fun! Hopefully everyone gets home safely 😄 no pairing or just pre-relationship crushes please

Oooh, this is a very fun prompt Ana! I don't write gen often so this will be good practice, and hopefully it's up to your taste! No pairings as requested and Obito-centric.

He got lost in the woods and met a strange man who could do strange things.

Obito was a strong and brave ninja, he knew that for sure. Who else could claim the esteemed Uchiha name and sharingan while also being part of the yondaime's team? No one!

But that didn't change the fact that when a mission went wrong and he was separated from the rest of his team, he got a little scared. Just a little, don't be mistaken, Obito was still calm and in control, it's just that being stuck deep in a forest in the middle of the night would unnerve anybody!

Plus, out of the entire team, Obito had to admit- he was the least prepared to be lost. He'd been following what looked like wolf tracks for the past hour, hoping they belonged to Kakashi's summons and not an actual wolf, but he knew this logic was flawed. It wasn't like he could look at the stars and know exactly where to go like Minato-sensei, or just float down a river and somehow end up at his desired destination like Rin, so following wolf tracks it was.

Obito stopped for a rest and water, his breath coming out in puffs, the cold air bringing a flush to the boy's cheeks. He was tired and slightly injured from the fight that had separated the team, so he couldn't keep going for long. For all Obito knew, he could have been going in the wrong direction deeper into the forest and gotten himself in even more trouble than he was in before. The little Uchiha sighed in frustration.

"Whatever!" He said, turning his nose up. "I'll just keep going! No one and nothing can stop this ninja from completing a mission and going home!" He announced, giving himself an extra boost of energy with his words. He took off running in the direction of the wolf tracks, speeding through the forest as he used tiny amounts of chakra to make himself go faster. The full moon lit his way, and for just a moment, as Obito saw the trees thin, he'd thought he'd really made it!

But life could never be so fortunate.

Instead, he stumbled upon a clearing with a river snaking through it, fed by a small waterfall. Obito sighed and approached it, figuring it was time to try out Rin's method instead of Kakashi's. He was reluctant to step into the water- Minato-sensei had said that some rivers had poison in them that you couldn't swim in, and there were bioluminescent mushrooms going all up and down the banks of the river. Wild mushrooms were signs of poison, right? But Obito had never seen a wild mushroom that glowed in the dark in the forests near Konoha, though. He must have strayed further than he'd initially thought.

Obito sighed as he continued to look around. There were small fish and frogs in the water, seemingly unbothered by the glowing mushrooms. Fireflies floated aimlessly over the water, occasionally landing on beautiful red lilies that grew from the bushes near by. The entire clearing was filled with tiny wild flowers, and Obito absentmindedly thought to pick some for Rin. The boy looked further up the waterfall, and nearly fell over in surprise. Someone had been meditating on a rock in the middle of the pond the entire time, and Obito hadn't even noticed!

The man was tanned with chestnut brown hair, and he was wearing traditional clothing. Despite the cold weather, the man was meditating in a simple tan yukata, the folds of the robe open slightly to expose a muscled abdomen, as though the frigid air didn't affect him at all. The meditation was probably working, then. Figuring that Obito had already wandered too far off to find his way again any time soon, especially when he was cold and hurt, he strolled up the river and sat down to meditate near the man.

It would normally bore the young nin to death, but as his ribs throbbed in pain and his dry lips forced air in and out, he found he could do nothing but focus on the quiet. He closed his eyes and listened to the rattle of his own lungs, quietly wishing Rin would float down the river and patch him up. Obito didn't know how long he'd stayed like that, meditating in silence with the man, but a while later the rustling of cloth snapped him out of his meditation.

The man had gotten up and was wading through the water, the moon shining down on the water from where it sat at it's zenith. Obito stayed put as the man walked off, and startled when a hand patted his shoulder.

"Aren't you coming?" The man asked, golden eyes looking curiously down at the young nin. Obito stared blankly at the man before shrugging and getting up. Maybe the man knew a way out of the forest. Just as they began to walk toward the tree line once more, the man dragged Obito closer to his body.

"Oh my, you're freezing! Come on, come on, let's get inside." The man said. It wasn't so much that Obito was cold as it was that the man was oddly warm, so warm Obito had to double check the air around them to make sure it wasn't summertime. His own body was overcome with a strong, thick chakra, the kind that called back to springtime and the unstoppable force of nature, and in minutes Obito was warmed as well.

Obito reluctantly stuck to the man's side, trying to look tough even as he was warmed by the man's chakra, but his facade dropped when a cottage erupted from the ground right at their feet. The young nin nearly fell backwards, however the man's arm was strong and held him upright. He chuckled, turning Obito's face beet red.

"Sorry for scaring you. Welcome to my humble abode." He said, voice dripping amusement. Obito tried not to pout as the man opened the door for him. It truly was a humble abode, the kitchen and living space all in the same room, cozily pushed together, with a narrow hallway likely leading to a bathroom and bedroom. In the kitchen was a pot of stew on a low fire, it's aroma of meat and onions and all the good stuff filling the air. Obito's stomach rumbled pathetically, and the man cooed.

"Ah, hurt and hungry? I feel like I've found a stray kitten. Come, come." The man mused, gesturing the young nin closer into the kitchen space. He was sat down at the small table and poured a hefty bowl of stew, the man sitting opposite of him with an even bigger bowl. Obito cautiously took a sip. It was delicious, beautifully seasoned and the perfect temperature, and somehow it tasted like home.

"Thank you for the soup and stuff. What's your name?" Obito asked. The man waved off his thanks, golden eyes staring mirthfully at the young Uchiha.

"Hashirama. What's yours?" Hashirama asked. Obito blinked a few times.

"Like the first hokage?" He asked. The man nodded brightly.

"Exactly!"

Obito continued to stare at the man before shrugging. Coincidences happened, and although the first hokage was described to be tan with brown hair, that description matched 90% of the men in Konoha.

"I'm Obito Uchiha!" He said. Hashirama's eyes twinkled.

"An Uchiha, I thought so! What brings you so far from home then, little Uchiha?" He asked. Obito shrugged, not sure how much of the mission he could talk about.

"Was just out with my team and got separated and then lost." He mumbled, swallowing a few more mouthfuls of the soup. Hashirama made a sympathetic expression, nodding.

"Poor thing. Let me get something for that rib of yours, you can stay the night and return in the morning." He said, standing up and disappearing into the hallway. Obito had finished his stew fidgeted for a bit, looking around for any clues as to where he was. All of the decorations in the cottage were reminiscent of fire country, but fire country was humongous so that wasn't really helpful.

There were a few photos on the desk near by, and Obito peered at them curiously. There were photos upon photos of Hashirama holding various plants and animals, as though he'd raised them himself. There were a few photos of a man with white hair and red eyes being embraced by Hashirama, and some more still of a woman with red hair holding a little blond girl. Obito vaguely thought that the red haired woman looked a lot like Minato-sensei's wife, but the thought was short-lived. The genin spotted a photo tucked behind one of the pictures of Hashirama, this time holding a peach. Obito didn't want to take it out for fear of offending his host, so he only craned his neck to look at it.

As soon as he saw who was in the photo, he ran back to his seat and tried to look as polite and not-terrified as possible.

The man in the photo was unmistakable, especially to Obito, and the implications of who that was were too much for him to process. Hashirama came back from the narrow hallway holding medical supplies and some clothes. Obito smiled nervously and lifted his shirt to allow the man to work, hoping that he wouldn't be able to feel the genin's heart pounding through his ribs.

"So uh, have you ever lived in Konoha, Hashirama-san?" He asked, trying to be subtle about it. Hashirama smiled brightly and nodded.

"Oh yes, I was quite involved in the village for many years, and only moved out recently for my retirement." He said. Obito's mind drifted to the white haired man in the photo, and he felt his stomach turn over. If Obito was right, then that had to be...

"Where you friends with the Uchiha?" He asked. It took an effort to keep his voice light and airy, and Obito was sure Minato-sensei would have been proud of him.

"Yes! Myself and the Uchiha were at odds for a while, but now we are the best of friends." Hashirama replied. Obito giggled. With a swipe of chakra, some medicine, and a swift wrapping of the bandage, Obito was free from the man's ministrations. Despite how nervous Obito was at interacting with the Hashirama, he could sense no malicious intent, and Hashirama looked as though he was enjoying their awkward conversation. He was handed fresh clothes, but something in Obito's gut told him not to stay long.

"I'm sorry, Hashirama-san," He started, trying to be as polite as possible, "But I really need to get back home, my sensei is probably worried sick. Could you please just point the way?"

Hashirama blinked blankly at Obito for a few moments before smiling in defeat and nodding.

"Sure, I understand. You've made this old man a little sad, though. It's been so long since I've spoken to a living person." He said, golden eyes looking wistful. As Obito turned those words over in his head and studied Hashirama's face, an old Uchiha story drifted across his mind, but for the life of him he couldn't remember.

Hashirama led him to the door and handed him a packaged bowl of the stew. Whenever Obito looked back at what he'd said that day he could never explain the urge to blurt it out.

"Can't you just talk to Madara?" He asked. Hashirama looked completely taken aback, eyes blown wide in surprise, before he guffawed. That was who had been on the picture behind the peach, the former head of the Uchiha clan, one of the greatest shinobi in the world, who had Hashirama's arm around his shoulders and was smiling brighter than the sun.

"If I could, I would! Now get out of here, go defend that village I love so much." Hashirama said, chortling as his hand pushed Obito through the open door. The genin lost his balance and fell into what seemed to be an endless tunnel of darkness, the only light being the soft golden glow of Hashirama's eyes.

Then he crashed into a head of white hair and got cursed out by Kakashi all the way back home.

#obito uchiha #hashirama senju #uchiha obito #senju hashirama #madara uchiha #pine talks #naruto #naruto fic #pine fic #fic requests #gen

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chloroformthelittleb4stard · 3 years

Text

Family Relations - Part 1

I got some loose inspiration from @were-cheetah-stiles's "The College Years" so if you haven't read that then I highly suggest it! It's very good.

Stiles Stilinski/Witch!Reader with some OFC characteristics thrown in for spice

Summary: Your criminology teacher is acting all kinds of weird, which is the norm, except for the part where his eyes glaze over and he tries to kill someone. Stiles, the hero he is, tries to stop your professor with little avail until he gets some unnoticeable help from you. Stiles seems to find himself with you at the location of multiple attacks, just barely making it out alive. Through the bloodshed feelings, family, and friends mix to create a perfect blend of chaos and calm.

Warnings: Mentions of choking, character injury, implied death of a minor character, EMTs and stitches and such, swearing

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

Your hand is aching from the cramps of writing so many notes, your professor going a mile a minute, but making very little sense. You doodle in the margins of your college-ruled journal and stare into space, zoning out and giving up on following your professor's nonsense.

The clock ticked 5 minutes until class was over when your professor went apeshit. He stopped talking all of a sudden, standing straight as a board and looking off into the distance. He started slowly walking up through the students, eyeing each of them as he went by until he got to the row in front of you. He moved down the line until he stopped on a strawberry blonde girl, three seats to your left in the row in front of you. His hands slowly wrapped around her throat and that's when people started screaming.

People tried to pull him off of her but it was like he was glued to her skin, an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. The next tactic that people chose was to flee, they tried running out the doors but they came to see that the doors were in fact stuck and shaking on their hinges, the rattling echoing through the lecture hall. Your attention kept being drawn to a brunette, maybe 5"10 with moles scattered around his skin and eyes the color of amber.

The brunette stood, panicking for a moment like everyone else, but then sprung into action. Launching forwards he grabbed a chair and swung it towards the professor, the item stunning the man but not making him drop his grip. Your professor's attention then turned to him, eyes locking as you saw the man with moles' expression turn fearful. He ran back down to the front of the classroom and the professor followed him, eyes still glazed but now glowing with a green tint.

The man seemed to be struggling in the fight against your professor and since no one else seemed ready to help, you realized you were your classmates' last hope. You didn't want to use it but there wasn't much other choice, you focused your energy and watched as the light fixture above your professor began to swing and crack, sparks of electricity coming from where it meet the ceiling, before it came down in a large crash on top of your professor. You'd forgotten however to push your cute classmate out of the way, and you ran forwards to go check on him while the rest of your class pushed and shoved to get through the doors that were magically opened again now that the would-be murderer was down.

Walking over to the front of the room you saw your brave classmate staring at the ceiling in shock while he was clearly still processing the entire situation.

"You ok there?" Your voice echoed in the now empty room, Stiles' attention coming to rest on you. As he gaped for a moment, his mouth moving with no words, before he managed to regain some confidence.

"I uh, yeah. I mean no! Later! I-" You chuckled as he stuttered, mind moving faster than his mouth could handle and the flitting though of how glad you were that it was this boy's life that you'd saved.

"I'm not ok now but I will be later." He managed to finally articulate. Words falling out of his mouth as he continued to take in your appearance. He had no idea how he'd missed you before but damn had he been missing out. Your legs peaked out from the bottom of your jeans that you'd cuffed, socks with the words 'fuck off' printed on them peaked out from above your worn sneakers, much like his own.

"You really like Star Trek?" He questioned, pointing to your t-shirt. You laughed out loud at that being the first question he asked you, not something to do with your suddenly murderous professor or the seemingly random event of a light fixture falling from the ceiling.

"Yeah, why? You a Star Wars fan or something?" He puffed his chest out as much as he could from his position still sitting on the ground.

"And proud of it." He placed his hands on his hips and beamed as you walked closer to give him help getting up. He limped when he stood, something you noticed immediately and frowned upon realization.

"Did the light falling down injure you?" Your eyes were filled with concern for the man you'd just met, coming to scan his injured leg as he stood in front of you.

"Me? No I'm fine!" He winced as he took a step forward and you rushed to his side to help support him.

"Ok, so I might be a little bit hurt." He smiled shyly at you through his dark lashes, his tongue poking out to lick at his lips while he stared at you.

"Here sit down and I'll take a look." He hobbled over to the nearest chair upon your request, muscles relaxing as he took the pressure off his injured limb. You pulled his jeans up just slightly, exposing the ankle that had a shard of glass stuck in it. Maybe pulling down a lighting fixture wasn't your best idea. You hissed at the sight of the injury causing Stiles to glance down at his ankle, hissing as well at the sight of the glass sticking out from his skin.

"I'm sure someone called 911, an EMT should be here soon." You rolled his jeans back down to cover his injury, already hearing the faint sounds of sirens on campus.

"I'm never going to live this down." He groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. You giggled at the sight and he cracked a smile despite his pain from his pride in making you laugh.

"An FBI agent in training who gets hurt by a light. I'll be a laughing stock." He was over-selling his complaints, he knew he was most likely to receive praise for his actions rather than ridicule, but he liked how you laughed at his dramatics.

"Well..." You paused, realizing that despite being in class with him all year you didn't know the cute stranger's name.

"Stiles." He filled it in for you, smiling again as he held his hand out to shake yours.

"Well Stiles, I think you're a hero. At the very least you're not a coward." You shared a laugh as the sirens got closer and the police and EMT came through the door, interrupting your moment to get to know Stiles more.

The EMT had determined that he'd need to go to a hospital, and having nothing better to do, and wanting to get to know him more, you asked if you could go with.

"Sure, I still need to learn your name." You blushed at the awkward wink he sent you while on the stretcher, being lifted onto the cot that sat in the middle of the vehicle.

You and Stiles made small talk during the trip between his vitals getting checked and the EMT disinfecting his, now stinging, wound. You reached your hand down absentmindedly when Stiles first winced at the disinfectant, and he grabbed it without a second though, squeezing tightly as more anti-bacterials were added to the open wound.

At the hospital he'd had stitches, and you both watched as they removed the small shard of glass from his skin. You'd helped quietly by pushing the glass in the direction of the doctor's hand but Stiles didn't need to know that. After the stitches and a total of three hours later Stiles was discharged and on his way back to campus with you on his arm. He'd had crutches, a precaution, and despite your suggestions he threw them in the trunk of the Uber you'd called and didn't use them at all while walking back to his dorm.

"Well here we are. Room 15, thanks for walking me to my dorm, and for going to the hospital with me, and everything else. Despite the almost-murderer professor, today didn't actually suck that much." You laughed at his statement and waved him goodbye as he limped into his dorm room to an only minutely concerned Scott.

"Who was that?" Scott asked in a sing-song voice as he took the crutches from Stiles' hand without complaint.

"That, was my guardian angel." He slumped along the door, coming to sit on the floor in a haze of your memory.

"Does your guardian angel have a name?" He heard is werewolf friend ask while digging through Stiles' wardrobe for shorts that wouldn't brush against his stitches.

"Her name is Y/n and she was with me at the hospital the whole time. Scott she's awesome, you have to meet her." He stood up gently, stumbling over to his bed to change from his blue jeans to the basketball shorts that Scott had pulled out for him, per doctor's request.

Scott rolled his eyes at his best friend's romantic nature, knowing it was probably just being there for him in a crisis that made you so attractive to Stiles. Scott didn't get a look at you, meaning he had only the basis of what Stiles' personal preferences were for figuring out what you looked like. He assumed you looked similar to a familiar ginger that had broken up with Stiles not long ago, he was wrong.

#Family Relations #Family Relations part 1 #stiles fanfiction #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi imagine #Stiles Stilinski/reader #Stiles Stilinski/Witch!Reader #Teen Wolf #choking mention #major character injury #implied death #EMT mention #Ambulance mention #stitches tw #ambulance tw #crutches

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mischiefandi · 4 years

Text

A Shitty Love Song (Part 1) - Stiles Stilinski

Wild Ones

A/N: hey everyone! this has been a long time coming! thank you for lovely comments on my previous post, im super happy to finally be posting this. a HUGE thank you to @duskholland for helping me out so much with this series, ily to death bitch. enjoyy yall

Summary: Y/N is a 17 year old girl who struggles in an epic battle against herself. Whether it is amor’s icy grasp or life’s unexpected course that forces her to finally open up, only one thing is certain. The truth cannot be long hidden.

Warnings: underage drinking, party times, maybe a couple of swear words but im not sure haha

Word Count: 5,3K

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Reader (Y/N)

Series Masterlist

(picture is not mine -> credits to @ pechka on unsplash)

Seasons before, in the early fall where the leaves don’t yet want to leave their wooden hooks, Y/N had just started her junior year of high school. Being the new girl in school, she was afraid of being alone - something she had always been - but not this year. Whether it was chance or fate, she happened to fall upon a curious but wonderful group of people who quickly became her friends.

At its center, Scott McCall, young lacrosse player with a boyish charm and a heart of gold and by his side, Stiles Stilinski, an eccentric and spirited young man. Surrounding them were Lydia Martin, the fiery and confident genius, the sweet yet lethal huntress, Allison Argent, and finally Isaac Lahey, charming Mr Mischief himself.

This pack of wild cards had found a new companion, and Y/N fit in like a puzzle piece filling in its designated spot. She got along with everyone in the group, forming indestructible friendships with these eccentric teenagers, and she felt fortunate beyond belief. More often than not, she would eat with them by the walnut tree outside of the school. The group would share stories and food, complaining about the soporific lessons from the earlier period, or excitedly planning the next outing, the next party. Every week, the teenagers would go hang out in the woods by the mystical ruins of the Hale House, doing more of the same. Life was light and good.

The group had planned on hanging out by the Hale House one quiet September afternoon, but the universe likes to play tricks, and somehow Y/N and Stiles were the only ones to show up. Deeming it a happy accident, the pair walked through the damp woods together, talking about their day and slowly letting each other in. Laughter echoed between the trees and the wind turned.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

A little more than a month had gone by and Halloween was just around the corner. Classes seemed longer than usual, bigger stacks of schoolwork forming daunting piles on Y/N’s desk. But school was the last thing she could think of when she got home after a long day of concentration. The only thing that mattered, was Stiles. Video calls, phone calls, and late night texts that seemed to never cease took over the second Y/N’s feet passed the threshold of her home. And nothing compared to these conversations.

“I’m sorry but no.”

“Stiles, stop, seriously.”

The mole-speckled boy lunged forward in front of the screen and passed a shaking hand through his spiky hair.

“There is no way you like the second trilogy better than the first one. It’s just not possible.”

“Well it is possible, because I do,” Y/N retorted, her unfazed expression gleaming back at him.

“Literally how? The group dynamic alone should make you see reason. I mean come on. Han and Leia? Han and Chewie? Han and Luke?”

“You do know Star Wars doesn’t exclusively revolve around Han Solo right?” she asked, her lips breaking into a smirk.

“First of all, no. Second, give me one single reason why the second trilogy is better than the first,” Stiles said, “I dare you.”

“One reason?”

The boy nodded, serious as a statue.

“Hayden Christensen.”

Stiles groaned deeply, his face buried in his large hands.

“Can’t even have a serious discussion about Star Wars with someone rational.”

“I’m not sorry.”

“You’re the worst.”

Y/N paused, holding a finger to her chin.

“Hmm, agree to disagree.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“Hey! How can we have an intelligent debate about anything if you use swearing as a last resort.”

“I have given up on us. It’s over.”

Y/N laughed profusely against her pillow, shaking her head.

“You’re a drama queen.”

“FRIENDSHIP OVER!” Stiles bellowed and Y/N shot her head back, unstoppable laughter erupting from her stomach.

“It’s going to make things awkward at the party, Friday,” Y/N said between chuckles, her laughter quieting down.

“Who said you were even invited,” replied Stiles, adjusting his shirt, revealing a tiny patch of skin just above his sweats. Y/N’s eyes flicked over to the screen but the second had passed.

“Funny. Listen, I gotta get some sleep otherwise I’ll pass out in math or something.”

“Yeah, I should probably also go to bed sometime soon.”

“Hopefully before tomorrow morning.”

“Har-har,” said Stiles, smiling at the camera, his chocolatey irises beaming at Y/N.

“Goodnight nerd.”

“Goodnight loser.”

Y/N stuck out her tongue at Stiles before hanging up the call.

That night, as she carefully brushed her teeth and got her clothes ready for the next day, Y/N thought back on her video call with Stiles, a warm smile spreading on her lips.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

The week passed so slowly, each hour lasting an exhausting eternity. School, demanding as ever, while keeping Y/N busy, was the reason why time seemed so lengthy. The nasty side-effect from tantalizing hours is the amount of thinking you do to keep busy. So Y/N did just that. She thought about how much she cared for her group of friends, she thought about the fact that she had never felt like she belonged like she did then.

She thought about how nice it was sitting by the Hale House, enjoying each others’ company, how life is so much lighter when you feel surrounded, how much she had learned about herself after meeting the pack. She thought about the band Stiles and her liked so much. She thought about Star Wars. She thought about the sound her computer made when Stiles sent her a message. She thought of his hair, his moles, his neck. She thought about how thrilling it was when he sat next to her. She thought about how much he mattered in her life, just like the others mattered too.

Y/N did so much thinking that week. But the funny thing is, amor has a way of tricking your mind. Your body believes one thing but your mind has been bewitched, and no amount of thinking you do can remove the fog clouding over your eyes.

When came Friday, Y/N was happy to be done with school, bursting through the doors of the establishment, excited to go home and get ready for Danny’s Blackout Party. She was thrilled about going, however nervous she felt.

She had never been to a party like Danny’s rave before and she had no idea what to expect. But more importantly, she was afraid of crowds. She had tried going out to packed bars with people from her old school, but the chaos and the drunks surrounding her made her feel beyond uneasy.

“Y/N! Wait up!” She heard Allison exclaim, and she slowed down her pace, allowing the brunette to catch up with her.

“Are you excited for tonight?” asked Allison, her light brown eyes gleaming brightly.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be...crazy.”

“You okay?”

Y/N forced a smile and nodded overenthusiastically.

“Yeah! Just tired. It was a long day,” she replied.

“Same here, which is why, we need to let loose tonight! Let’s get ready at Lydia’s, so we can all head over there together.”

“Sure. Quick question though, how did Lydia get us invited in the first place?”

Allison giggled, nodding her head towards Aiden and Ethan standing by their motorcycles.

“How do you think?”

The girl’s laughter echoed through the cool autumn air and disappeared with their cars. It was going to be a night to remember.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

As Y/N and Allison reached Lydia’s house, Y/N couldn’t help but feel more and more anxious, tightly gripping her bag filled with clothes and makeup. The party was starting to worry her.

People had been whispering about it all day back at the high school, talking about the numerous illicit drinks that would be served and the intriguing entertainment. It seemed like the Danny had gone all out for Halloween. Still, not knowing exactly what to expect practically terrified Y/N.

She was outgoing, but big crowds and chaos were things that made panic bubble up inside of her very core, quickening her heartbeat to a frightening extent. She loved dancing and partying, and much like other people her age, she loved a good drink every once in a while, but huge events and big blowouts, she had never been a fan of.

Putting on a brave face, Y/N shut the car door and walked up the stairs to Lydia’s front porch, ringing the doorbell as Allison locked the car. After what seemed like mere seconds, Lydia opened the door, letting the excited girls in.

“Finally. I thought I was going to have to get going without you,” she said, smirking at the pair.

“Y/N couldn’t decide what to wear,” replied Allison, sending Y/N a look that made Lydia scoff.

“Excuse me if I've never been to a neon-themed rave. How am I supposed to know what to wear?”

“Well the name of said rave could be a pretty good indicator,” mocked Lydia as the girls walked up to her bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

“Ali, what are you wearing?”

Allison giggled with a smirk and did a demonstrative twirl, showing off her burgundy flannel shirt and black jeans.

“This!”

Lydia raised her eyebrows at the brunette, a confused expression etched on her face.

“Am I the only one here who understands the term “neon”?” she asked.

Allison shook her head then slowly unbuttoned her shirt, revealing a neon pink bra.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. This stunt was definitely orchestrated for someone special.

“Wow. Isaac will love it.”

“It’s about time you two did something about your situation,” joked Lydia, reaching for an eyelash curler.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” replied Allison with an innocent shrug and a slightly less innocent wink.

“Well now that Allison’s outfit is sorted, it’s your turn, Y/N. Let’s see what’s in this enormous bag of yours.”

The strawberry blonde bent down and grabbed Y/N’s bag before she could say anything, emptying its contents in a flash.

“No, no, definitely not, no…Y/N, why are all of these clothes black?” inquired Lydia, with a look of disgust she had difficulty hiding.

“Lyds, I told you, I don’t know what to wear to a rave.”

“Show me your bra.”

“What?”

“Show me your bra. If it’s the right colour, we can just pair it with some of my clothes.”

Y/N reluctantly removed her white shirt, revealing an electric blue floral lace bra, much to Lydia’s delight. Allison whistled approvingly.

“Okay here’s what we’re gonna do.” Lydia walked over to her closet, carefully studying its contents. Allison and Y/N exchanged a glance as Lydia clapped her hands together.

“This goes with this, and you have to tuck it in, like so,” she said, “okay, try this on. Now.”

Y/N looked down at the outfit her friend had put together.

“Yes ma’am,” she mumbled, her face as white as a sheet.

Y/N walked to the corner of the room as the girls chatted and finished getting ready. Her heart thundered as she passed her neck through the bottom of the sheer black top Lydia had handed to her. Looking herself in the mirror, all she could see was a blushing dishevelled mess. Her bra covered most of her chest, but the curves of her breasts were only slightly hidden by the black mesh material she was wearing.

“Okay, this is okay…” she muttered to herself, trying not to panic.

Bending down, she grabbed the black layered skirt she had brought with her and brought it up to her hips, tucking the top inside. The skirt helped balance out the outfit, but still Y/N wasn’t fully convinced.

“How are you feeling?”

“Kind of nervous honestly.”

“I meant how do you feel about the outfit- but you’re nervous? Why?” asked Lydia, walking over to Y/N in front of the full-length mirror.

“It’s just- I’ve never been to a big party like tonight, much less looking like…this,” Y/N reluctantly replied.

Lydia bit her lip and sucked in some air before smiling widely at Y/N and taking a step forward.

“By “looking like this” I hope you mean by looking incredible. Y/N, look at yourself. You’re tall and confident, the outfit looks amazing on you. Your look is not the problem,” she said, gently.

“Then what is?”

“You tell us,” replied Allison, walking over to the girls by the mirror.

Y/N exhaled deeply and turned around to face her friends.

“I hate crowds. I love partying don’t get me wrong, I just- I get really really panicky around big crowds of people. The noise, the warmth, all of it, just terrifies me. I’m worried that I’ll hate it and freak out or something. I’m sorry, I probably should have said something before.”

As soon as the daunting words had slipped through her lips, Y/N felt a weight lift from her weary shoulders, a wave of relief passing over her entire body.

“Hey, it’s okay. Everyone’s got something they’re uncomfortable with. It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” said Allison, sweetly.

“I know, it’s not that I’m ashamed, I just- didn’t wanna be a downer. I really am excited for tonight! I’m just nervous.”

Lydia placed her hands on Y/N’s shoulders and smiled brightly.

“Look, you’re gorgeous right now. Even without my help, you’re gorgeous. And tonight, we’ll be around the whole time. If you feel freaked out or you start to panic, we’ll go outside and get some fresh air. We don’t mind.”

“Exactly, we’re your friends. You know you can depend on us on occasion,” Allison joked and Y/N laughed, shaking her head timidly.

“Seriously, Y/N, we’re gonna have a ton of fun tonight. And if you need anything, whatsoever, we’re both here,” added Lydia.

Y/N’s heart swelled and she felt her eyes filling slowly. Blinking the impending tears away, she smiled widely, her radiant eyes following suite.

“Thank you, both of you. You’re the best.”

“Agreed. Now, that’s sorted. Are you comfortable with the outfit?” asked Lydia.

Y/N looked at herself in the mirror, analyzing every detail of her figure, taking in how “out there” the outfit was. After a few seconds, she nodded to herself and smiled.

“You know what? You only live once.”

Allison giggled and rested her arms on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Tonight is going to be amazing!”

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

As Lydia’s car pulled into the parking lot in front of the venue - a large concrete building comparable to a construction site - Y/N sent a text to her friend.

Y/N: we just got to danny’s party

Y/N: u guys here?

The girls looked up at the windows on the top level, the neon lights shining through catching their attention, the music already reaching their ears.

The group excitedly entered the building, Y/N’s heart thundering against her ribcage. Allison noticed the worried look on her friend’s face and she slipped her hand in hers, sending her a warm smile. Y/N took a deep breath, and the three beautiful girls went into the otherwise empty elevator. On the way up, Y/N’s phone vibrated against her palm and she looked down at the screen.

Stiles: we aren’t there yet

Stiles: Scott needed to go get something

Y/N’s heart couldn’t help but sink a little. She had hoped the boys were going to be there already, though why, she couldn’t say. Her phone interrupted her thoughts again.

Scott: by smth, Stiles means someone

Scott: and by someone, he means Kira

Scott: also we’re late because of the jeep

Scott: ;)

Y/N chuckled and texted him back, Lydia and Allison sharing an inquisitive look.

Y/N: figures :))

“Who is that?” asked Allison as the elevator doors opened.

Y/N winced slightly and turned to Allison.

“It’s the boys. Scott was just telling me they picked up Kira…”

“Oh.”

Lydia looked from Allison to Y/N, and back, the awkwardness beyond tangible.

“Are you okay?” asked Y/N, worried that the news had killed the mood.

“Honestly? I don’t love the idea of partying with my ex and his new girlfriend, but we broke up three months ago. We’ve both moved on. Besides, I really like Isaac. I’m not gonna let this ruin my evening,” Allison answered, a soft smile on her lips.

“Allison has Isaac, Scott has Kira, Stiles- well I don’t know about Stiles. That leaves you and me, Y/N. You can help me avoid Aiden tonight,” said Lydia, straightening her dress.

“Aiden, as in, the guy you hooked up with who just so happens to be the guy who invited you to this rave?”

“Precisely.” Lydia walked away hurriedly, and the girls laughed, entering the venue.

The grey concrete in the hall was uncharacteristically bland compared to the other-worldly burst of colours inside of the venue. Neon blue, pink, orange, yellow, and green exploding in every direction, paired with blaring purple lights attached to the concrete beams above the dancefloor where what looked like at least 70 people were jumping up and down to the beat of Losing It by FISHER. Strands of white UV tubes hanging from the ceiling all around the dancefloor lit up every white item of clothing in the room, turning the pure colour into a bright purple.

This giant nebula of chaos and colour made Y/N’s blood pump ten times faster throughout her body. That or the the bass blasting through the giant speakers by the DJ. Either way, the thrill of it made Y/N shiver, her whole body completely frozen in place.

“This is crazy!” Allison gasped.

“Danny really went all out,” said Lydia, staring at the dancing figures in the center of the room.

Y/N’s phone buzzing woke her from her trance and she read the text.

Stiles: be there in about 20 minutes

Stiles: can’t wait to embarrass you on the dancefloor

Y/N: oof

“Let’s go get a drink,” Lydia urged, walking over to the large snack table with numerous bottles. Y/N read the labels and nodded, impressed by the wide range of drinks.

“Wow. Jack Daniels, vodka, a shitton of beer, wine coolers, rum, Jagermeister…Danny really did go all out.”

“Pass me a cup,” said Allison.

As the girls filled their glasses, Lydia eyed Y/N’s cup.

“Y/N, are you sure you want to start with a triple shot of vodka?”

“Yeah, it’s fine!” Y/N exclaimed, downing the drink before anyone could stop her and gasping as the strong liquid burned its way down her throat.

“Ohkay, take it easy,” said Allison, shooting a worried glance at Lydia.

“I’ve got it under control,” replied Y/N as she refilled her cup.

“Let’s go dance!”

Allison dragged the girls away from the table, walking over to the dancefloor. Y/N downed her second drink and nodded wearily.

“Yesss, let’s do this!”

The looming herd of party-goers, intimidating as it was, seemed a little less daunting now that Y/N was actually at the party.

“How bad could it be?” she thought to herself before treading through the mass, occasionally bumping against people energetically throwing their limbs around.

In the middle of the chaos, Allison stopped and started moving her hips in sync with the song, Lydia quickly following suit. Y/N bobbed her head along to the beat of the bass, her arms swinging awkwardly on either side of her body. Allison laughed and grabbed her friend’s arms forcing the movement to flow through Y/N’s limbs. Lydia busted up and down, moving her waist so naturally it seemed like she had been born for this very moment.

Closing her eyes, Y/N tried to focus on the music vibrating throughout her body, the memory of the colours surrounding her floating behind her eyelids. Allison sang along with the lyrics of the current song, shouting out the words as she moved from side to side. Y/N slowly started to lose herself to the music, letting go of her inhibitions, forgetting the world around her.

When the beat changed, her feet jumped up and down, as if they had a mind of their own. Her head felt heavy yet no thoughts crossed her mind. The music had gotten rid of all concentration, the only thing left was the bass flowing through her veins, making her entire body pulsate to the beat.

Beads of sweat trickled down Y/N’s neck as she kept dancing, her feet starting to ache with every jump. It had only been about fifteen minutes, but to the dancers, it seemed like a wonderful eternity. Finally, Lydia tapped on Y/N’s shoulder and shouted by her ear.

“Let’s do some body painting!”

Y/N nodded profusely, a wide smile on her lips.

“Ali went to dance with Isaac!” Lydia shouted as the pair pushed through the crowd.

“Where’s the paint?” shouted Y/N, trying to hear her own voice over the music and failing miserably.

“Over there!”

A tall blonde boy holding brushes with purple and pink tips smiled as the girls reached him, his charismatic grin turning Y/N’s cheeks bright red.

“What can I do for you ladies?” he asked, his pearly white teeth a bright purple as his grin widened.

“My friend over here needs a lot of paint. Emphasis on lot,”Lydia insisted.

Y/N shook her head, giggling stupidly.

“Not too much paint,” she said warmly.

The boy smiled with a wink.

“Let me worry about that.”

Y/N removed her mesh top, holding it with her right hand, patiently waiting for the boy to start painting across her chest and back. She shivered as she felt the cool wet tip of the brush meet her sweaty skin, sliding a few inches down, a thick stripe of paint spreading across her back. Y/N giggled at the cold feeling, the alcohol in her system reaching her head. She closed her eyes and bent her neck to the side as the boy continued his line up to her collarbone.

“What’s your name?” she heard him ask.

“What’s yours?” she chose to answer, smiling wickedly.

She heard him laugh as he started painting little dots up her back.

“Jeremy.”

“Nice to meet you, Jeremy.”

“You know most girls like a proper introduction before getting this close,” he said over the pulsating music, his breath fanning over Y/N’s neck as he painted small strokes down her shoulder. Y/N grinned mischievously.

“I’m not like most girls,” she teased as she turned to face him.

“No, I guess you’re not,” the boy replied, his eyes darting towards her lips and back up.

“I’m almost done with your body- I mean with the paint,” he said, shaking his head with a grin. Y/N giggled and stepped closer.

“I’m all yours…” she replied.

Jeremy’s deep blue eyes lingered on hers before focusing on her chest. Y/N thanked the universe that he wasn’t looking straight at her, otherwise he would have seen her cheeks fill with red for the second time. He delicately placed pink and orange dots up and down her chest, careful as to not stain her bra and she watched him, observing his concentration with admiration. Finally, he looked up, smiling at her.

“My masterpiece is done,” he declared, placing the paintbrush on the body paint stand.

Jeremy reached for a mirror and handed it to her. She admired the strands and dots painted across her body in a chaotic waltz, the hot purple and pink clashing against her skin. Looking up at him, she grinned widely.

“You’re talented,” she said.

“It’s easier when you have such a good canvas to work on…” he replied, sending her a look hot enough to melt her.

Momentarily remembering the outside world, she looked around and quickly realized Lydia wasn’t there anymore, probably off dancing or looking for Allison. Y/N turned back to Jeremy.

“I’m sorry, I should probably go check on my friends…” she said, biting her lip as she slipped her mesh shirt back on.

“Of course. Maybe later, we’ll bump into each other on the dance floor?” he replied, a nervous smile etched on his lips.

“Yeah, maybe.”

Y/N winked at him and walked away, trying her best to keep her cool.

“Well that was something.” She thought to herself, a wide grin planted on her face.

Looking around, she couldn’t find either of her friends, nor could she find Isaac. Slightly disappointed, Y/N walked over to the table and poured some vodka in an unused cup before knocking her head back, letting the burning liquid run down her throat.

She eyed the dancefloor and thought back on her previous conversation with Jeremy. She was beyond nervous. She’d never actually kissed a boy before. The opportunity just hadn’t ever presented itself. But now that she was here, feeling tipsy as ever, a few feet away from the cutest boy at the party, she couldn’t help but think, why not?

Wiping her sweaty palms on her skirt and downing her fourth - albeit, strong - drink of the night, she nodded to herself and walked over to the dancefloor.

As Five Hours blasted through the speakers, Y/N pushed her way through the sweaty crowd once again, making her way to the center of the dancefloor. Ignoring the world surrounding her, she closed her eyes and gave in to the music, feeling every beat of the song pulsate throughout her entire body.

Colours, flashing lights, the feeling of people’s skin against hers, her head spinning and swaying in every direction, it made her feel alive. As the last drop of the song reached its peak, Y/N jumped with the crowd, knocking her body against complete strangers, feeling the warm and sticky air fill her lungs with every breath.

The song Too Much by Curbi started to play and Y/N felt someone’s body against hers. Closing her eyes, she turned around and felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist. She sighed lightly, enjoying the feeling of her skin against the boy’s. His fingers treaded down her back, firmly settling just above her ass, holding her steady in a sea of bustling bodies.

She danced against him, turning around again, her back facing his front. Moving against his body, she felt his arms tighten around her, pulling her in. His hot breath fanned over her neck and she moaned slightly, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

Suddenly, time seemed to stand still when his lips lightly touched her warm skin. Y/N inhaled sharply, her eyes still shut. The only thing she could hear now was the sound of her heartbeat furiously thundering against her ribcage. Slowly caressing the boy’s arm, she allowed further access to her neckline, moaning loudly as she felt his feverish lips plant warm kisses on her neck, inching higher and higher. Y/N’s hands reached for his and she tugged them closer to her body, her hips still moving against him. His lips danced furiously across her neck, leaving dangerously beautiful marks on her skin.

The music seemed only to heighten her senses. Her legs almost gave out when she heard the boy groan lightly against her ear, her response, a small whine at the loss of contact with his lips. She turned around and tried to open her eyes, the bright lights bursting through the gap in her eyelids. Squinting at his face, trying as hard as possible not to lose herself to the music again, Y/N’s eyes caught a glimpse of the boy’s face.

Bright pink dashes stained his cupid’s bow and the right corner of his bottom lip, the paint from her neck helpless in the face of a passion like this one. Y/N’s eyes scanned the rest of his face and widened slightly when they met amber irises, warm and inviting and so familiar. Her fingers threaded through his damp dark brown hair, her brain trying to comprehend what was about to happen.

His chocolatey eyes looked deep into hers and he licked his lips slowly, the world around them fading. Y/N felt her vision blur as she inched closer to him, her nose picking up the scent of old leather and pine trees and rain. His lips lingered over hers and she felt a chill as her name echoed through the air.

“Y/N…”.

Their lips connected in a frenzied blur, sending sparks of pleasure throughout Y/N’s entire body and the chaos surrounding the pair completely swallowed them. His teeth slightly bit her bottom lip and she deepened the kiss, ardently giving in to his deliciously demanding mouth. Unable to control her body, she steadied herself against him, tugging at his shirt with one hand, the other cupping his face as he sucked on her delectable lips.

Their bodies so unbelievably close disappeared in the crowd of dancers, the whole world somehow a thousand miles away.

Time, a forgotten concept.

A/N: I seriously hope u enjoyed this!! if u did please reblog :)) (would be super helpful especially with tumblr acting up w the tags and all that) <3 part 2 coming soon!!

if you would like to be added to this series’ taglist, please send me an ask :)

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#stiles stilinski #Stiles Stilinski fanfiction #Stiles Stilinski x reader #Stiles Stilinski x reader insert #Stiles Stilinski fanfic #Stiles Stilinski series #teen wolf #v writes #<33 #eeeek #dylan o'brien

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violetwolfraven · 4 years

Note

41 for javid would work so perfectly ahfkfjxhsga and/or 34, whichever one u want 🥺🥺🥺

I was scared to come out and ask you out because I didn’t know our entire friend group was gay but I definitely know now???

and

We broke up but I found the letters you wrote me before that and I still love you so wanna get back together? (did I copy this from one specific fic I read? Possibly.)

Ok! Buckle in your seatbelts, y’all! This is gonna be a MASSIVELY LONG THING! Also @61-flaming-sour-cherry-scones I love your url. Just getting that out there. Modern AU, btw. Also does this end in December, 2019, conveniently avoiding COVID? Possibly! :)

...

Jack didn’t mean to find that box, but in his defense, it was not hidden well. Just in the back of his closet, which he hadn’t cleaned out since... damn. Since the breakup.

And Jack was fine with said breakup, by the way. Him and Davey weren’t right together anymore.

And Jack didn’t smile less, or work himself harder as a distraction, or whatever bullshit his brothers, mom, and all his friends said.

If Davey never texted first anymore, or barely even talked when friends asked him to hang out or whatever, that was none of Jack’s business.

Jack had texted Davey exactly once since the breakup, because Elmer had told him that he had an anxiety attack in a bar, which he was only there in the first place because he was designated driver.

Davey had said he was fine, and that meant he was, right?

Davey had not mentioned anything about leaving a shoebox in Jack’s closet. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t mentioned it, ever.

Did it sting that Jack’s ex had kept a secret box of... something? from him? Maybe. Whatever the case, Jack was curious by nature, and he was definitely opening the box.

It was... letters? Sealed letters in envelopes, the earliest one on the very top, in one corner of the box. The only thing written on it was a date; September 7th, 2011.

That would be... 8th grade? Probably the first day of school? Jack was super confused. Still, he opened the letter.

Dear Jack Kelly,

I know this is terrible and corny and I’m probably going to shred this letter with the pocket knife Sarah got for our last birthday, but I had to write it down somewhere.

I think I’m gay. Specifically, gay for you. And I know that’s weird, I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re like the living personification of the moon. (Not the sun. I’ve never understood why people compare their crush to the sun. Nobody likes looking directly at that.) You saw me sitting alone before school and you took me in. I mean it. You brought me over to your friend group and said I was a new kid who was going to be your friend now, and the whole group just adopted me without questioning it. All of you are so nice. At first I thought it was a trick, but then I saw you comforting Blink when he had a panic attack. (Also, I’m still getting used to the nickname thing. That’s still weird and I’m not sure how I feel about the one you gave me.) You were so gentle with him, Jack. You knew exactly how to calm him down and you were so patient with him while you helped Mush drive the fear away. I didn’t think boys our age knew how to be like that. I do now, because of you. Well, and because of Race being, well, Race. I don’t think anyone could mistake him for a bully. Or Crutchie. Or Romeo. Heck, most of your group is just so nice I can barely believe it. I think I’ll bring Saz to meet you tomorrow. She already made a friend, but she said that this girl, Katherine, said she already knows you. Maybe we can all be friends.

I really wish we could be more, but I know that would never work. I can’t tell anyone I’m gay. You’d think I’m a freak. But since you’ll never read this, I can admit it here: I have a massive crush on you, Jack Kelly.

Sincerely, David Davey

Jack was not going to let himself cry about a letter written in 8th fucking grade. He was, however, very confused about why it was in his closet.

A letter from before Davey was out of the closet found in the closet. If Jack wasn’t so goddamn depressed, he would appreciate the irony.

The next letter was dated: September 24th, 2011.

Dear Jack,

We’re all friends now. Gotta say, I already can’t imagine my life without you and the other guys. And maybe I didn’t meet Kath that first day, but she’s probably my best friend, besides you, of course. She’s the only other one with brain cells, besides maybe Specs. Us three had to talk you and the others out of riding a shopping cart Albert stole from Walmart down a hill yesterday. Honestly, would it kill you to be a little smarter? I know for a fact you can be, Jack Kelly. You and the others actually have a fair amount of brain cells each when apart. It’s only when the only group gets together that you all do stupid stuff.

I didn’t shred the first letter. I think maybe I’ll keep these and we can look back someday and laugh about me having a crush on you in middle school. Don’t worry. I’ll find a way to get over it before it ruins our friendship.

I honestly don’t see how I’d survive losing you, Jack. So, please, do me a favor and keep being oblivious to how I really feel about you until I digest those butterflies you give me.

Sincerely, Davey

Damn. Reading that was like a punch to the chest and Jack had to take a deep breath before moving on to the next letter.

The next few were just mundane stuff. Little notes on how Jack laughed or interacted with certain friends or whatever. The way he painted each friend something little for the holidays and how they all had a picnic potluck for Thanksgiving.

Then he got to one that was different: January 22nd, 2012. It was written in a panicked, hurried script.

Oh, damn. Jack remembered what this was about. What happened January of 8th grade.

Dear Jack,

Something’s wrong. You’re on my couch right now, crying. I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re trying to put on a brave face for Les and failing miserably. Medda didn’t have time to say much when she dropped you, Crutchie, Race, and Romeo off, so all I really know is that Blink is in the hospital and she’s gonna pick up Mush before going to see him. Crutchie is trying to comfort you, by the way, but he’s crying nearly as much as you are. Race and Ro are in shock, I think. They haven’t said much. Sarah’s making them hot cocoa. I’m in my room, writing this really quick because I don’t know what I can do. You’re so good at comforting people, but I don’t know how. I wish I knew how you did it. I think I’ll go try one of the things I’ve seen you do with panic attacks. It’s got to be better than nothing.

The rest was calmer, clearly written later.

It turns out Blink is in the hospital because his dad put him there. And he wouldn’t be alive at all if he didn’t call Mush in a panic right when he heard him get home. Mush called the cops and they barely got there in time. Blink was already half-dead when they did, but they managed to keep him alive long enough to get an ambulance. God, I don’t want to think about what would’ve happened if they’d been just a little bit slower.

Medda called you a couple hours ago to let us all know that Blink is in bad shape, but he’s gonna be okay. She’s gonna try to file for custody of him, but Mush’s mom is gonna try, too, just to give him twice as much chance of staying with us. His dad is in jail, but you and me agree that he deserves to die for what he did. In the selfie Blink made Mush send the group chat, there was more bandage visible on his face than skin. It made me so damn angry, but I didn’t show it because you were so angry you almost punched a hole in my wall.

I’ve made a decision, Jack. I can’t be separate from the group anymore. I always hang with Kath off to the side where we can intervene as the voices of reason if needed, but I’m not going to do that anymore, because I. can. not. do this again. I want our friends to trust me like they trust you so maybe if one of them is in a house with a dad that would beat them within an inch of their life, they’ll tell me and I can get them out.

I guess that means I’ll have to get better at lying. I’ve been staying separate mostly to hide my crush. And I think I’m pretty good at that, but being right at the center of things, with you? I’ll have to be careful to make sure no one notices. Especially not you. I hope I can pull it off.

You definitely aren’t making it easy on me, are you? You’re passed out in my bed, for heaven’s sake. But it’s fine. This is fine. I’m fine.

Sincerely, Davey

Jack remembered that night as one of the worst of his life. He’d thought Blink was dead by how Mush sounded when he called. And even though it turned out he wasn’t, he was going to be okay even if he lost an eye, after Jack’s childhood, he’d always hated when he couldn’t protect the people he loved.

Davey had been the one to reach him in that bad place he fell back to, the one where people he loved, kids he considered his little brothers, were getting hurt. Davey had pulled him out of there, and though it would take Jack months to realize it, that was the day he started to fall in love with him.

The next Monday, though, Jack had tried to give him space. Knowing how intimidating it all had to seem, he wasn’t sure if Davey would bail on them.

But he didn’t. Jack had never stopped appreciating how Davey had seen the darkness under the innocent, normal friendship and stayed anyway.

The next few letters were mostly a lot of pining on Davey’s side as he struggled to integrate himself more deeply into the group.

Jack still remembered that shift, how once Davey earned the others’ trust, Jack had gone from being the only one everyone was relying on to half of a pair that a lot of their friends had jokingly called ‘mom and dad.’

It was kind of sad, knowing that for most of them, Jack and Davey gave them more love and attention than their actual parents did, but the two of them would have to do—and they had. For a long time, the two of them were an unstoppable duo of hugs and snacks and homework help.

The letter from June 15th, 2012, had weird spots on it, almost like... almost like tear-marks. It was shorter than the previous ones.

Dear Jack,

Saz just came bouncing into my room to announce that she’s going with you to the Eighth Grade Dance.

I don’t know why I’m sad about it. I knew you and me would never be a thing.

But it still hurts, Jackie. It hurts so much.

I’m going with the rest of the group, just as friends. No one has dates except you, and I think maybe Romeo.

Jack knew for a fact that Blink and Mush had gone together because he remembered accidentally walking in on their first kiss, but apparently, Davey hadn’t known that.

Les is knocking on my door, so I’m gonna have to drop my math textbook on the floor really loudly so I can tell him I’m crying because I fell.

Sincerely, Davey

There wasn’t another letter until 4 months later, Octobe 16th, 2012.

Dear Jack,

So. Something weird just happened. Saz just came into my room and said she’s not going with you to Homecoming because you’re going with Kath. I tried to comfort her, but she didn’t seem sad about it?

She asked me if I wanted to go with anyone and seemed surprised I said I didn’t. (Not like I’m telling her a part of me wishes I could go with you.) Then she mentioned that Blink and Mush are going together, and I don’t see why she cares because if you don’t have a date why not go with a friend, right? Why do girls have to be so confusing?

Sincerely, Davey

Oh. Oh, God.

By the beginning of freshman year, Blink and Mush hadn’t been the only gay couple in their friend group.

Albert and Finch had gotten together over the summer, and so had Smalls and Sniper.

Romeo and Specs were in the ‘flirting terribly’ phase, and though Jack didn’t know it at the time, Race was already sneaking around with Spot by that point.

Ike had asked Hotshot to that Homecoming, though they wouldn’t officially become boyfriends until almost a year later, Buttons and Elmer became official at that dance, and Jojo and Mike had that falling out because of misread signals towards the end of it.

Hell, Jack only went to that dance with Kath because she couldn’t let her parents know she was actually going with Saz.

Homecoming freshman year was... eventful, to say the least.

And Davey had known exactly none of this. That... explained a lot.

Being only freshmen, none of the couples were exactly casual in their relationships. They didn’t kiss in front of people, and a few were too embarrassed to so much as sit next to each other at lunch. With the ones who weren’t embarrassed, it still honestly wasn’t much more than the affection they all already showed among friends.

God, if Jack had known how scared Davey was to come out, as he said in the next few letters, he would have... what? Told him he loved him right then and there? Probably not, but he would have done something differently.

The next really significant letter was dated December 11th 12th, 2012.

Dear Jack,

I have no idea what to think.

I’m in the bathroom right now, and it’s just after midnight on 12/12/12. You and your brothers threw a party in case the world ended with the whole friend group. It was kind of like a New Year’s party, but with a lot more cynical talk about the coming apocalypse and bet placing on what said apocalypse would be. Towards the end, we all got caught up in the drama and sleep-deprivation and started giving speeches about how much we loved each other. It was cringy, but in a good way? I’m sure we’ll laugh about it someday.

Or maybe we won’t. Because I have no idea what to think anymore.

Oh, shit. This was the part Jack was kind of dreading reading.

I’ve been terrified to come out because I thought I’d get kicked out of the group if you guys knew I was gay.

Which was why it was such a shock when the countdown to midnight ended and half my friends kissed friends of the same gender.

Jack remembered yelling at them to break it up. He’d been so busy being exasperated with his kids that he hadn’t even noticed Davey had slipped away until Crutchie pointed it out.

It was quick, so I don’t think I could name all the pairs if I tried, but I definitely saw Sarah kiss Kath, which, honestly, explains a lot.

I can’t help but wonder... Why didn’t anyone tell me? How long has this been going on? Has it been since the beginning and I was just too oblivious to see it?

Oh my God. Now that I’m looking for it, I can’t stop seeing it. The way Blink is defensive and angry all the time and he’s soft for Mush. The way Sarah hates spending time on her hair and she’ll sit for hours letting Kath try out styles on her. The way Buttons and Elmer just do little things for each other every day. None of them are subtle and I am an idiot.

Jack had to laugh at that.

Does this mean I should come out, too? I know now no one would judge me for it, but... I don’t want to mess things up. I love our friends, and I don’t want to lose them. If I lost them, now, it would be because I like you, specifically. Would you be disgusted with me if I told you?

“No,” Jack whispered, before remembering that this was 14-year-old Davey, and he wasn’t here.

I like to think you wouldn’t be, but I can’t risk it. If I lose you, I lose all of them. And if I have doubts about if I could live through losing you, I definitely can’t survive losing everyone. I love them all so much. I love you.

Jack sucked in a breath. As far as he knew, this was the first time Davey had ever said anywhere that he loved Jack.

But I can’t tell you that. So if I come out, it definitely won’t be by saying who I like.

Love, Davey

Jack totally wasn’t crying as he reached for the next letter. It was just current events, random stuff. There were certainly a lot of letters, weren’t there? Davey had documented everything, from Jack attempting to teach him to draw, to the time they both auditioned for the school play, to that time they had to talk Jojo off a ledge when he realized he loved Mike. That one was short but bad. (Honestly, Jack still hated Jojo’s super religious parents for that. Fuck Jojo’s parents.)

Davey did come out in a letter from almost six months later, but it wasn’t until Homecoming sophomore year that things started getting really interesting.

Dear Jack,

I honestly might never talk to you again outside these letters. Sarah’s banging on my door telling me to, and I’m quoting her here, “open the fuck up, David Jacobs.” Mom’s yelling back at her to watch her language. They’re now having a screamed bitching match in the hallway.

Long story short, we were at Homecoming and you asked me to dance. My brain kind of short-circuited, but I said yes right as a slow song came on. Shockingly, you didn’t seem to mind, and you danced with me to Photograph by Ed Sheeran.

Oh, God, Jack remembered that song. It had been their song. He still couldn’t listen to it anymore.

You were singing along to it and smiling at me. It was really sweet, and it was kind of my dream, to be honest, and I guess I lost all control of my body for a second because I kissed you during the last chorus and I didn’t stop kissing you until the end of the song.

Jack remembered that like it was yesterday, because it was their first kiss. It was a million perfect colors exploding across Jack’s brain and feelings he could barely identify swirling into a moment more beautiful than any painting he could ever create.

Then a faster song came on and I don’t know if anyone saw, but I really hope they didn’t because if they did that means they saw what happened next. Which is: I ran away. I ran all the way to my car and drove home and locked myself in my room. Sarah came home not 5 minutes later, so I think she knows, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t know how I can face you after this. In hindsight I think you were kissing me back, and if you were that means I just ran out on you and it probably hurt when I did. If not, that’s even worse because I kissed you and you probably just didn’t pull away out of pity.

Holy shit, I think you’re here, now. I can hear you outside my door with Saz, and maybe Kath, too. She’s trying to calm her down, which, honestly, good luck, Kath. Wait. No. Shit. I guess being her girlfriend has its benefits. It’s just you, now. You’re talking really softly, but I can’t understand you through the door. This is why we enunciate, Jackie.

Jack rolled his eyes on reflex.

I’m still pretty scared, but I think I’m gonna open the door. Scratch that, I’m definitely gonna open it. If you yell at me, I’ll probably yell right back. Funny, isn’t it? How I never would have done that before meeting you? If we have a huge fight, remember that you’re the one who taught me not to censor myself. David never would have even opened that door, but Davey is your monster. Good luck. I’ve out-argued you before, Jackie, so you’ll need it.

I should stop stalling and open the damn door.

If you break my heart, Jack Kelly, I’m going to kill you.

Love, Davey

Reading that last sentance, Jack froze.

If you break my heart, Jack Kelly, I’m going to kill you.

Time was a bitch, because by all accounts, they were both broken-hearted, now.

Jack wiped away his tears and realized there was a little bit more writing.

P.S. I guess you get to live, Jackie, because we had a talk and you kissed me again and now we’re together. Like, boyfriends. I can’t stop smiling. It’s stupid. I’m probably not going to sleep tonight and it’s all your fault because my stomach is full of butterflies and I can’t stop thinking about how much I love you.

Jack didn’t let himself process that, going for the next letter instead.

Oh, shit. November 1st, 2013. This was going to be a bad one. Still, Jack took a deep breath and started reading.

Dear Jack,

Well, today was emotionally draining. (Halloween was fun, but what came after definitely is not.) It’s already past midnight, but it’s okay because I’m sleeping over at your house tonight. After Saz and I explained the situation, Mom and Dad agreed we should. God, said situation it makes me so angry.

Katherine’s parents kicked her out. They found out about her and Sarah, made her pack a bag, and tossed her away like she was nothing.

She’s 16. She’s a goddamn child like the rest of us. How could they do that to her? I guess it’s good she’s out of that environment, where she has to hide who she is and walk on eggshells with every conversation, but she’s on your couch right now, crying so hard she can’t even drink the tea Medda made her. Sarah and you are trying to calm her down, but I hate seeing her like this. Kath always seems kind of unshakable, like nothing anyone says will get to her. I’ve never seen her this broken. Judging by the look you’re giving me from across the room, you haven’t, either.

You think I’m making a grocery list. Medda told me to, seeing as how she’s busy helping clean out your guest room, Saz is on ‘shoulder to cry on’ duty, and I’m the only boy who lives with a girl. Kath didn’t get to pack much more than a couple of outfits and her toothbrush.

You know what? Fuck it. You and me are her parents, now. You’re good with that, right? We’re already stand-in Mom and Dad for several of our friends—what’s one more? Ha ha, you and me have so much practice already that we are going to be great parents for real one day.

Jack sucked in a breath. Real parents? As in, the two of them staying together long enough to have kids?

Wow. That is wildly inappropriate to think about when we’re literally a couple of 15-year-olds. Also, it makes me think about how Kath is technically a few months older, but whatever. I guess I should actually make that grocery list, now, and stop daydreaming about a hypothetical future while one of our kids now is sobbing across the room from me.

Love, Davey

Davey had never even told Jack he wanted kids.

Sure, they were both a little young for that, but in the future..? Jack had always been scared that he wouldn’t be a good dad, after never having a good dad, himself, but sophomore year Davey was right. He had gotten a fair amount of practice with his friends.

That night, when Kath showed up at the Larkin house, crying so hysterically the makeup from her Halloween costume was running and saying she didn’t know where else to go, Davey was the first person Jack called. Him and Sarah had shown up not fifteen minutes later, probably having been lucky not to pick up a speeding ticket (or you know, gotten arrested for underage driving without an adult) on the way.

15-year-old Davey was right. That night was the most broken Jack had ever seen Katherine. Even if it had worked out okay in the end, with Kath staying with them and being their new sister in every way but on paper, Jack still kind of wanted to throat-punch her parents.

It was... oddly comforting, to know that Davey felt the same. He hadn’t shown it back then, knowing Kath needed him calm, but... to be honest, Jack would have feared an angry Davey Jacobs more than an angry Jack Kelly. You’d get punched by an angry Jack, but an angry Davey? He was smart enough to burn down your world. Jack smirked, thinking about how lucky the Pulitzers were that Davey possessed impulse control.

Most of the rest of the letters were just Davey talking about their relationship as it evolved or recounting whatever drama happened to be going on, (with one in the middle of junior year that was basically just ‘wtf Race is secretly dating Spot Conlon???’) because as the only group of out gays in the school, a few of whom happened to be in not-so-good homes, there was always drama.

Then came the stress of senior year, SATs, and college applications. Davey and Jack had a few fights, which were all well documented here. 17-year-old Jack and Davey hadn’t known that those fights were the beginning of the end.

The letter dated June 5th, 2016 was the one that finally made Jack cry for real .

Dear Jack,

We’re fighting again. We have before, but this time, it’s actually serious.

I get that you’re going to school in Santa Fe and I’m staying in New York. What—did you expect me to follow you all the way across the country? I’m not asking you to stay, because that wouldn’t be fair of me. You’ve got dreams and a scholarship to an art school and that is great. I’m happy for you. But I’m not going with you, because why would I? I’ve got dreams, too. Did you think I would put my life on hold for you?

We can’t stay kids forever, Jackie. Growing up means things change. I thought you knew that. Our friends are spreading out across the country and most of the couples aren’t going to be in the same state. Hell, Specs is going to Harvard in Massachusetts and Romeo is moving to Hollywood to go try his luck and they’re not having problems. If your own brother can do the long-distance thing, why can’t you?

I’m scared, too. I don’t want to lose you, either. I know doing a long-distance thing won’t be easy, but when was the last time either of us gave up just because it was hard? Jackie, if I wanted something easy, I would have bailed after we almost lost Blink. My love for you aside, I didn’t because that’s. not. me. I fight for what I love. And I know you do, too, so... so fight for me. I need to know you love me enough to fight for me, Jackie.

I know you. When you want something—really want it, there is not a force in this world that can stop you from fighting for it. I love you, Jack Kelly. I’m not going to stop fighting for you, so please don’t stop fighting for me.

Love, Davey

Jack choked on a sob. He’d failed. Davey had asked him to fight for him and he failed.

Sure, he hadn’t known that Davey wanted him to fight for him, but... God, if he had...

Jack would have fought, would have walked through hell, would have done anything to keep Davey by his side.

He still loved Davey, no matter what he’d been telling himself since the breakup, and... And he needed to read the rest of these letters. Even if Davey started hating him when the fighting got really bad or wrote about what he was feeling during it.

Shit. There weren’t that many more. The remaining letters were spread out somewhere between high school graduation and when Jack and Davey broke up; a year and a half ago, and... and those would probably be the hardest ones to read

Jack waited a bit until the tears had stopped before opening the one from November 20th, 2016.

Dear Jack,

I haven’t wrote one of these in a while. College has been a bitch, but also...

You and me barely talk anymore. We text each other memes about once a week, (don’t worry. you still know exactly how to make me laugh with those dumb little shitposts.) but we don’t really talk. I can’t remember the last time we FaceTimed. I miss you, but I don’t know how to say it anymore.

I’m thinking about this because it’s Thanksgiving break. Of course, it’s good to see everyone. Kath got home this morning. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed her. Elmer texted me a couple minutes ago that he’s an hour away. Of course that dumbass is driving all the way from Michigan. I’m sure we’ll both have more than enough words for him when you get back because you’re flying in tonight.

I don’t know how I feel about that. I should be excited, but... I don’t think I’ve been this nervous about anything involving you since I ran away after our first kiss. I think I preferred it last year, when we were fighting, because even when we were pissed at each other, at least we were communicating.

You remember when we were kids and you always knew exactly what to say exactly when someone needed to hear it? How you helped calm down Kath when she got kicked out, talked Jojo off a roof, and convinced Spot to tell Race he loved him? It was amazing. I never quite mastered that. I usually know what to do, just never how to voice it. But this time, I don’t even know what to do. We’re not on the same page anymore. I don’t think we’re even in the same book.

Jack took a shaky breath. He and Davey hadn’t been on the same page. And Jack definitely hadn’t known what to say to him, either. They weren’t the unstoppable duo they’d been in high school.

But... damn. Those things Davey had mentioned him doing? He couldn’t have done those alone. For all of those, he had needed Davey there, helping him. Maybe that was why it was so hard, being there for anyone since the breakup.

I hate how five years of being an unstoppable duo can be undone in only four months, and it wasn’t even by fighting. If it was a fight, we could solve it, you and me vs. the problem. But there’s no fight, no problem. It’s just you and me and the growing chasm between us.

You know what? It’s probably just the distance messing with us. We’ll be fine. We just need some time together. Thanksgiving will be good for us. And I’m flying out to Santa Fe for the winter holidays to spend it with you, so that’ll be good, too.

I’m gonna text you right now. Your flight probably won’t be leaving for another hour or so, so we can talk. Get back in rhythm.

I still don’t know what to say. I guess I’ll just ask about how hot Santa Fe is in winter and we can go from there. Here’s hoping this makes things get less awkward.

Love, Davey

Jack remembered that text conversation with Davey in the airport. He remembered how much hope it had given him, and how after Jack went back to Santa Fe when the holiday was over, how much better Davey and him had been. That Christmas/Hanukkah had been great, especially considering most of Jack’s classmates were at home and they’d had the dorm to themselves.

Of course their friends and families had known that was why Jack didn’t come home that year, and he distinctly remembered getting texts from all three of his brothers on Christmas morning asking if Davey was good in bed, but that was besides the point.

The next several letters were from their second wind, the rest of the school year. And yeah, they were hard to read, but they brought back happy memories. Even only seeing each other over breaks and computer screens, it seemed that Davey was happy, too. For a while, it had seemed that Jack could have his dreams of art school in Santa Fe and the love of his life.

Then, of course, during that summer of staying together at whichever house more often than not, they started fighting again. Over nothing. Over stupid things. Over who loaded the dishwasher wrong and who said he was going to pick Les up from his friend’s house.

Then they started fighting over big things. Over harsh words Jack never meant and judging by these letters, Davey didn’t meant, either.

August 2nd, 2017:

Dear Jack,

I fucked up. We just had a big fight, I said a bunch of things I didn’t mean, and like an idiot, I let you leave for the airport without apologizing. Now, you’re acting like your phone is already on airplane mode even though I know for a fact your flight doesn’t leave for another hour. Also, I can see that you’ve read all of my texts, you moron, so I know you’re just ignoring me.

Aw, hell, I don’t even blame you. I said some really bad things. I said you love your art more than me, and I know that’s not true. I know you’d never prioritize material things over the people you love, because Jackie, you prioritize those people who have earned your loyalty over everything, including your own mental and physical health. I know because it annoys the hell out of me, how you never give yourself a break. They’re all adults now, Jackie. They don’t need us as much anymore and you never stop acting like they do.

I shouldn’t be angry with you for that. I know with your childhood, trying to protect Crutchie, Race, and Romeo and sometimes failing, you still feel like you have to save everyone. It’s how you’re wired and I love that about you. I wouldn’t change it if I could. I just wish you’d stop running yourself into the ground to do it.

Is this it? I already feel like we’re on borrowed time, here. Sarah says she thought we were going to break up last year. Kath says she’s sure it’s not that bad. (they’re talking about it very loudly in the hallway. or maybe they’re arguing. who knows?) Les just said that my mom said nobody marries their high school sweetheart. (thanks, Mom.)

I think even if we never said it, that’s what we were both hoping for. I know you, Jackie. I’ve watched your favorite romcoms and Disney movies. I know you want the perfect fairytale relationship with the whole package of ‘and they get married and have kids and live happily ever after.’ And I want that, too. I really wanted it with you. Ugh! I still want it with you! I can’t imagine any alternate universe where I don’t want that with you!

It’s probably inappropriate to think about all that. We’re nineteen. We’re not even old enough to drink yet and we’re definitely too young for me to be thinking about marrying you.

Jack inhaled sharply. Oh, God. He was going to cry again.

But for the record... I do want to. I want everything with you and I cannot imagine any circumstance, any extreme, any bad breakup where I stop wanting that.

Just to be safe, though, in case something I can’t foresee happens and I never say it again...

I love you, Jack Kelly. I have loved you from the first day I met you and I can’t see anything happening in any version of reality that makes me stop loving you. You’re still like the living personification of the moon to me and no matter how much you piss me off, Jackie, your glow doesn’t fade. You shined a light on the parts of me afraid of judgement and taught me to shine, too, despite them.

I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you and I probably never will. I just need you to know that.

Love, Davey

Jack was already crying, but he panicked as he realized there was only two more letters.

A part of him wanted to wait. These were words Davey hadn’t spoken to him. These were the last pieces of Davey that were still Jack’s.

But he needed to know. Were these letters from before they actually broke up? After? Had Davey been wrong in the previous letter and he’d stoped loving Jack?

There were no dates on the envelopes. Still, Jack had to know. He took a deep breath and opened the second-to-last one, the paper covered in old, dried tear marks.

Dear Jack,

We had another stupid fight and we tried to fix it but that just ended in more yelling. That’s happened a few times before, now, but this time, it was different.

Oh, no. This must be from the big one Spring Break of their sophomore year of college.

Jack had come home for the break, it had been great to see his friends, but then he and Davey had started fighting. Like, really fighting. Worse than they ever had before.

And then there was the big one. It was two days before Jack flew back to Santa Fe. It was the one where they actually broke up.

This time, you told me to leave. And I kind of yelled at you to just go back to Santa Fe as you shoved me out the door. Then you yelled that if I wanted you to fly away so badly, I shouldn’t bother visiting again and you slammed the door in my face.

I think we just broke up. I’d be angry about it if I wasn’t so damn sad.

God, this is messed up. I know you’re alone on your bed with those stupid Star Wars sheets you’ve had since you were twelve and you locked the door because you don’t want anyone to see you cry. Thinking about that makes me want to run right back there and say I’m sorry.

I wanted to do that the second I got back to my parents’ house, but they convinced me not to. Sarah yelled at them for it. She said I had to make my own decision. They said I’m too emotional to think clearly. They’re right, of course, which is why I’m here writing this and not on my way back to your mom’s house already.

Now, Les is the only one outside my door. Are Crutchie, Race, Romeo, or Kath outside yours? Les is trying to guilt me into opening the door by telling me he cancelled a date for me. I’m not weirded out at all by the fact that my baby brother has way more game than I did when I was fourteen.

Are we really done, Jackie? For good? I keep waiting to hear you out in the hallway. And probably Kath, because she’s a better driver than you. I can’t keep thinking about this. I’m just gonna to go to sleep.

Davey

Jack wiped his eyes furiously. There was one more letter and he needed to read it, consequences be damned.

This last letter was probably from when Davey cooled down. Maybe the next morning or something. If he didn’t hate Jack while he was emotional and raw from the initial breakup, he might in this letter. But Jack opened it, anyway.

My Dearest Jack,

We really are broken up. You haven’t called me, but I got a very angry text-rant from Crutchie (for which he apologized 10 minutes later) which basically boiled down to him saying I broke your heart. Romeo called me, said ‘dude, not cool,’ then hung up. Race and Medda seem to be trying to see both sides, and though Kath did tell me that the last few months have been like ‘listening to mom and dad fight downstairs,’ she’s not offering any advice. I think she and Sarah are waiting for me to come to them.

I’m so sorry, Jackie. I know this is mostly my fault. Still, I can’t make the first move. Don’t forget: I know you. You’re more concerned with other people’s feelings than yours, so if I ask you to take me back and you do it, I can’t be sure you didn’t just do it for me. If we ever get back together, it has to be because you want it, too. However, I know you won’t even consider we could get back together unless I give you a sign, which is why I’m leaving you my letters.

You went back to Santa Fe two weeks ago and I’m finally stable enough to come get my stuff from your house and drop off what little you left in my room. While I’m there, I’m gonna hide this somewhere. I guess we’ll both have to pray no one else in your family finds it. That would be awkward.

When you find this, I want you to think long and hard about what you want, Jackie. I want you to make a decision for you. Goddammit, think about yourself first for once.

If you fight for me, I want you to do it because it’s what you really want. That fairytale romcom ending with me is still yours if you play your cards right. (Don’t think I forgot all the hurtful things you said to me, even if I’m 70% sure you didn’t mean them.) It might take... I dunno, therapy or something, but I still think we can fix this. It won’t be easy, but neither is love. Neither is our entire messed-up, broken group of friends.

I used to think I’d lose all of them if I lost you. Maybe I would have, if I’d messed up like this in 8th grade. But now, I know I won’t, because they’re all blowing up my phone as much as I’m sure they’re blowing up yours, asking if I’m okay. I see now that they need me as much as I need them. And they still need you, too, even if you do need to accept a little more that we’re all grown-ups now.

Where was I going with this? I had a point.

I guess all there’s left to say is that if you still want that perfect ending with me—getting married and having kids and having them call all our friends ‘auntie’ and ‘uncle’—fight for it. Loving someone the way I’m in love with you doesn’t happen twice, so I’m not going anywhere. You know where to find me.

You probably won’t find this for a while. Hell, you’re not even coming home again until summer break. But that’s probably a good thing. It gives us both some time to cool off and think.

So think, Jackie. Think long and hard and make a choice. Fight for me or don’t. In case I never get a chance to say it in person again...

I love you, Jack Kelly.

Love, Davey

Oh shit.

Davey left this in Jack’s closet a year and a half ago. He’d probably expected Jack to find it that summer. In fact, he probably thought Jack had found it and just decided not to fight for him.

Jack still wanted to fight for him. He had no doubts about that.

But did his have to discover this box now? When he was leaving for Santa Fe to finish his senior year tomorrow?

Fuck it. Even if it had been almost two years, even if there was a high chance Davey wasn’t waiting for him anymore, he still had to do this

Driving to the Jacobs house right then and there was probably the stupidest thing Jack had ever done, and that was including riding that Walmart shopping cart Albert stole down a hill in 8th grade with Race, Romeo, and Albert when Davey, Kath, and Specs weren’t there to stop them.

Sarah was the one who opened the door, and she... Jack hadn’t talked to Saz since the breakup, since she’d been staying mad at him out of solidarity. Honestly, he was now realizing that he’d missed her nearly as much as he’d missed Davey. They’d been good friends, once upon a time.

Now, she glared at him, “The fuck are you doing here, Kelly?”

“I...” Jack honestly couldn’t think of a good way to explain this, “Is he home?”

Sarah snorted, “What? After a year and a half, you’ve finally come to your senses and realized you’ll never find another one like my brother?”

“I never planned on anyone like him in the first place,” Jack snapped, “Davey was always... even back in middle school... You think I’d ever believe I could find someone else like that? I’m dumb, Saz, but I ain’t stupid. I always knew I was givin’ up on forever when I didn’t try to get him back, but... but I thought he didn’t want me anymore.”

Sarah froze, then leaned against the doorframe, laughing kind of hopelessly, “You are stupid, Jack Kelly, if you think my brother wasn’t totally gone for you and totally broken-hearted when you didn’t try to fight for him.”

Jack definitely had an oh shit moment, “Wait, do you know? About the..?”

“The box of letters he left you? Yeah. He told me last year, after you left for junior year without coming for him.”

Jack took the last letter out of his pocket, “I just found it.”

Saz took a second to process that before motioning for Jack to come in, shouting up the stairs, “Davey! Get your butt down here!”

Les, sitting at the kitchen table, looked up from his sandwich, “Holy shit. Jack?”

“Hi, kid,” Jack said, trying not to be weirded out by how the now-16-year-old was taller than him.

“Davey?” Sarah yelled again, clearly impatient.

“Alright, alright! God, Saz, what couldn’t wait 10 se—“ That was when Davey looked up, seeing Jack in his kitchen.

“That couldn’t wait,” Sarah said pointedly, “Les, let’s go... not be here.”

“If I eat in my room, Mom’ll kill me,” Les said, picking up his sandwich, anyway.

“Eat in my room, then.”

Jack and Davey were silent until the other two Jacobs siblings were upstairs.

“Why are you here, Jack?”

Jack had to take a deep breath before he responded, “When was the last time you went somewhere besides school if somebody didn’t drag you out of the house?”

“What?”

“Do the people who love you say you’ve changed? Do they keep saying they need a designated driver only to try to get you drinking and dancing like it’ll make you smile?”

“What are you—“

“Are there songs you can’t listen to? Movies you can’t watch? Have you so much as called someone back when they gave you their number?”

“Jack,” Davey looked at the ceiling, “What’s this about?”

“You once said you wouldn’t put your life on hold for me,” Jack said, “And you were right not to. I can be overprotective, sometimes. No one should put their dreams on hold because of a lover, but... my dreams are the only thing I haven’t put on hold, Dave. I ain’t been living since I lost you. Not really. And when our friends all said I was smilin’ less, I never let myself think about it, because if I did, I’d have to think about how much I was still hurtin’ over you.”

Davey laughed sady, “Jack, if you really wanted me, you would have fought for me a long time ago, so—“

“You’re talkin’ about the letters?” Jack asked, holding up the one he had on him, “Davey... I just found them. Today.”

Davey was silent, his face completely unreadable. Jack was holding his breath.

“Jack Kelly,” he finally smiled, “I should have known you would take this long to clean out your damn closet.”

“I think you spent enough time in the closet for the both of us.” Jack joked.

Davey rolled his eyes, “Very funny, Jackie. Anyway... I don’t think it’s any secret that we can’t just pick up where we left off.”

“Of course not.��

“So... coffee? If we’re trying again, I’d prefer to take things slow.”

Jack nodded, “Probably a good thing I’m going back to Santa Fe after tomorrow. That ain’t enough time for us to do something we’ll regret.”

“Yeah, I guess mostly just texting is one way to take it slow... speaking of which, one of us should probably text the group chat.”

“Oh yeah,” Jack grinned, “They’re gonna freak.”

#newsies #javid #javey #jack kelly #davey jacobs #jack and davey are the mom and dad friends #sarah jacobs #katherine plumber #background newsbians #background blush #background spromeo #background belmerttons #slight angst #violet’s writing

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