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forestwhisper3 · 2 years

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The segments below are for a fic that I may or may not post in the future. If I ever do, just keep in mind that these are rough drafts. Ideas and concepts could change if I ever decide to write it for real, so something you see here could be different in that possible future fic.

I just wanted to put up more pictures of my SIs, and figured I’d give you content to go along with them. Enjoy!

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Magic.

It's a heavy topic, full of wonder for some, and disdain to others. At some point in our childhoods, I imagine most kids dream of having it. When they grow up a bit, they instead immerse themselves in books or video games in order to fulfill the need for the fantastic. That had been the case for myself, at least, but now...Well...

"Oooh, your first bout of accidental magic! Mummy is so proud of you!"

I stared at the toy plush in my hand in shock, while my mother in this (now quite strange) new life of mine danced around in glee. Suddenly, a lot of things made sense, and I knew that the next couple of decades were going to be some of the most interesting, amazing, and dangerous I'd ever faced.

However, It did take me a bit longer after that to come to terms with what I'd learned. It felt like I had just come to accept the fact that I'd been reborn, and then I got this curveball thrown at me. Not that it was bad- I was actually kind of excited at the prospect -it was just...strange is all. Not to mention what lay in store, considering it was the year 1980.

Nineteen-Eighty...in a magical version of Earth...with British accented words and spells that were way too similar to be mere coincidence. If I was where I thought I was, then I was right at the tail end of a very dangerous time.

Of course, right as I figured that out, I had to be proven right in the worst possible way.

"The tapestry does. Not. LIE! Tell us where the child is!"

Blood-curdling screams ripped through the air, and it was all I could do to choke back the sobs that wanted to escape as my second mother was tortured in front of me. She had hidden me well when the Death Eaters had forced their way into our home, but I was still close enough that I didn't want to risk making noise.

The cruciatus curse...Book descriptions and movie scenes did not do the horror of it justice. Her body was twisting and writhing on the ground like she was being electrocuted, her eyes were wide open and bulging, the torn veins within turning them bloodshot, and a bloody foam began to gather at the corners of her mouth the longer she was subjected to it.

The screams continued, but I couldn’t look away.

Finally. Finally. After what felt like an eternity, shouts were heard outside, followed by hurried steps. The death eaters glanced at one another before huddling around something and vanishing, allowing a heavy silence to fall for a split second before the aurors rushed in.

And if one of those aurors happened to have dark, messy hair and round glasses, well that was just the icing on the whole fucking cake, wasn't it?

"Damn it!" the man- who could only be James Potter -cursed in frustration. "They had a portkey!"

He looked around, and I could see the moment he spotted my poor (brave, amazing, selfless) mother by the way his eyes widened.

"Edgar!" he snapped to someone out of my line of sight. "Look her over! Frank, check the house. Sirius, help him out. See if you can find out why they target-...ed...Sirius?"

"I-...I-I know her," was the weak response.

"What?"

"Sylvana Verinus," he continued, as if he hadn't heard. "We-...We had a thing...A couple of years ago."

"A thing?"

"It was mutual," he replied with a hint of defensiveness. "But we eventually broke it off. She felt things were getting too dangerous, and I wanted to stay as an auror. We decided it would be best to go our separate ways."

"Do you know why they would target her like this?"

"That's the thing. I have no idea why they would go after her, much less go through all the effort of seeking her out among the muggles! She's a halfblood, and as soon as we split, she pretty much fell off the map. There's no reason why they should have gone for her specifically- not with bigger targets in front of them."

I knew, though. I knew...and soon he would too. He would know it was because of me that she was-

"James!" another, more muffled voice called down from the second floor. "She has a kid! A girl from the looks of this room!"

"Shit, then where is she? Spread out and see if you can find her!"

Tired, stressed, and knowing I wasn't in danger anymore, I was no longer able to hold back the grief I felt for losing the woman I'd grown to love as a second mother. Once the first sob broke free, the rest quickly followed, until I was a bawling mess.

There was a bright glow, and the next moment, I was meeting James Potter face to face.

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James Potter had seen a lot since he'd decided to become an auror, but try as he might, he couldn't keep his heart from breaking a bit at the sight before him.

She couldn't have been older than two or three.

Heart wrenching sobs painfully twisted his heart, and gray eyes closed as the tears flowing down flushed cheeks became too much to handle. Her body was trembling, and she had her tiny hands close to her mouth, as if she'd had them pressed tightly against it. A glance down from his transfigured ladder (her mother had hidden her in an expanded air vent) showed that she would have had a direct view of the events below. With a grimace and another sharp pang of his heart, he turned back.

"Hey there," he murmured as gently as he could. "It's all right."

"No," she whimpered. "No. Mu-Mummy is..."

God, hearing that heartbreak was tearing his own heart apart. Not for the first time, he felt a deep anger towards Voldemort and all of those who followed him. How could they feel no remorse in doing something like this?

He could think (and rant) about it later. Right now, all that mattered was this little girl.

"My friends and I came to help you and your mum," he reassured her softly. "My name is James. Do you want to come down with me?"

She didn't answer for long enough that he was beginning to think she hadn't heard him, but then she nodded just the slightest bit, and he smiled.

"That's great. I'm gonna pull you out now, okay?"

Slowly, so as to not startle her, he reached in and carefully pulled her out. As soon as she was in his arms, he felt two small arms wrap around his neck and a small face bury itself into his shoulder. The fabric dampened immediately as the wails continued in earnest.

With a sigh, he squeezed her briefly before shifting her around until she was settled in one arm and made his way down. As he took that initial breath, however, he faltered.

One thing that was widely known amongst animagi, but never explicitly spoken about, was that it brought about enhancements. For example, those who could turn into birds of prey or felines usually tended to have sharper eyesight or focus. Rabbits and other small animals had faster reflexes. Almost everyone who had a warm blooded form had a more acute sense of smell- which was what was causing him confusion now.

Because this little girl smelled familiar.

He couldn't quite put his finger on why- he would need to change into his stag form to be sure unless the smell grew stronger -but something was being triggered in his brain.

"That her?"

And it seemed he wasn't the only one.

Sirius stared at the little girl in his arms, his eyebrows slightly furrowed and a strange expression on his face. He took a jerky step forward, stopped, then tried to move forward again, all the while looking as if he had no idea what to do with himself. It was a curious reaction, and if he hadn't had an idea as to what was causing it, he would have thought his friend had lost his marbles. Once Sirius got close enough, though, it all clicked into place.

'Fawn!' the animal part of his mind excitedly blared. 'Dark Fur's fawn! Must bring into herd! Fawnfawnfaw-'

He shook his head to quiet those thoughts and turned to Sirius, whose eyes were slowly growing wider and face slowly growing paler.

"Exactly how long ago was your thing with this woman again?"

Sirius swallowed visibly, but didn't respond. James couldn't really blame him. Instead, he just carefully unwound the girl from his neck and placed her in his best friend's arms with a flash of grim amusement.

"Congratulations, it's a girl."

"That's not fucking funny, James."

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"...Aunty?" I prodded the figure on the floor, my throat tightening in tandem with my heart when there was no response. "Aunt Lily, wake up."

I knew- deep down I knew -that something so pivotal could not be changed so easily, but I'd hoped- James had even put up a fight this time...

Her red hair fanned around her like blood.

I choked back a sob, my heart crying out for the wonderful, kind woman who had been so full of life not even an hour ago. The woman who had paid the ultimate price in order to protect her child, and whose sacrifice would help pave the way for Voldemort's defeat. The woman who was so much more to me now than she'd been as a character in a book.

In this life, she'd been Aunt Lily, and I had loved her fiercely.

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But then, the first change. One I hadn't even been expecting, but one that filled me with almost debilitating relief.

James had survived.

I felt a sob escape me as I watched my dad try to get a response, doing my best to keep Harry from interrupting him. It seemed like whatever Voldemort had done to James kept him from waking up, but he was alive. He had a chance.

Harry still had his father.

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Severus Snape was an embittered, petty, terrifying man. Seriously, I'd thought his treatment of Harry had been bad, but this?

This was so much worse.

I suppose I should have expected it- while Snape may have hated James, he had absolutely loathed Sirius. I doubted anyone would want to partner up with me after today, given the vendetta the other man seemed to carry against me. Was it even going to be possible to pass this class?

"Wrong," a voice hissed from beside me, my potion vanishing a moment later. "Can you not even follow basic directions, Black? Or do you find yourself above such a thing? Again! And twenty points from Hufflepuff for wasting my time."

I blinked back tears of frustration, my throat tight as I nodded and began anew for the fourth time.

In my last life, I had been fortunate to have never been bullied as a child. I never knew the sort of embarrassment, anger, or sorrow that came from constantly being picked on, teased, assaulted, or belittled. Being spared such treatment, as well as having decent friendships, had made me almost oblivious to the cruelties of people until I was blindsided by it as an adult. Although I quickly learned how to seem unaffected in the face of it, I had trouble keeping that countenance if I was unable to retaliate or defend myself for whatever reason (and I knew I could not afford to do such a thing now). As a result, I either ended up blowing up in anger or crying when I bottled up too much- sometimes both.

It seemed that today, it would be tears.

But I would not let them fall. Not here and now, when he would see them and feel nothing but satisfaction. Snape enjoyed drawing reactions from Harry and punishing him for them. I could only assume it would be the same for the daughter of the only man he'd hated more than James Potter.

"Snape isn't a good man, but he is a tragic villain. You can understand why he is the way he is, and I respect the hell out of him for still trying to do good after all the terrible shit he went through."

"Sev was-...he wasn't good, but he wasn't bad either. He just-...he made mistakes. Mistakes and choices that took him down the wrong path because he didn't see any other way. I wonder sometimes what might have happened if I hadn't-...If you ever make a friend in Slytherin, be kind to them, okay, Lia? Be kind, and don't give up on them no matter what."

I thought back on the words of two women I’d loved, and held back a bitter smile.

I wonder what they might have said...if they could see him now?

I had always frustrated my sister with the fact I still disliked Snape despite agreeing that her argument was a valid one. Something about him had always just rubbed me the wrong way, and I had hated the way he took everything out on children. No matter who you were, or how much you despised the hands life had dealt you, you should never take things out on a child.

I took fierce pride in the fact that Sirius had never done as much. He had his own faults- because there really was no excusing some of the actions of his youth -but at least he had never treated a kid badly as an adult.

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"Oh, man. I can't believe we lost so many points."

"Blame Black. She's the one who couldn't get the potion right."

"But you know? I was working near her and it didn't look wrong-"

"It had to have been! A professor wouldn't just vanish it so many times if it wasn't!"

"To be fair, I've heard some things about Snape from my brother."

"Yeah, about how he treats Gryffindors. We're Hufflepuffs! What could he have against us?!"

"That's true..."

"Don't forget who her dad is either. I bet she-"

"Shut-up, idiot! She's right there!"

The small group of Hufflepuffs shifted awkwardly as they were suddenly faced with Cordelia Black's stare. It wasn't that it looked angry- in fact, it looked rather flat -but there was something about it that seemed to pierce through them nonetheless. It made them look away and hasten their steps. The flat stare flashed with something he couldn't put a name to, and seemed to grow even more distant.

"Sorry about that. Here, let me help."

He doubted that she even remembered their meeting on the train, but he couldn't forget. Not when he could recall a small smile and sincere gaze that had warmed cool-grey into something almost unrecognizable from what her eyes were now.

It had been a nice smile. One that he hadn't seen since.

He knew about her, of course. Who didn't? Cordelia Black was the daughter of one of You-Know-Who's most devoted Death Eaters. The daughter of a man who was infamous for tricking the world into believing he was good, only to turn around and betray the Potters. Everyone knew the story by now- knew that you could never trust a Black no matter how different from the rest they seemed.

Still...

"It's fine. It was an accident, yeah? No harm done."

"If you're sure."

He couldn't help but wonder...

"Course! Thanks for helping me pick up my things, though. Anyway, my name's Cedric! Cedric Diggory! Nice to meet you!"

She blinked at him, looking almost surprised before something about her seemed to pull away even though she didn't take a single step back.

Was it really possible...

"...Cordelia," she introduced simply, her voice hesitant. "I-...I should go."

"Oh. Okay." He was a bit confused at the sudden shift, but brushed it off a moment later. She probably had friends to get back to. "Maybe I'll see you around the castle, then."

...for someone who was supposed to be evil...

Her smile shifted- (trembled) -even as it widened. "Maybe."

Then she was gone, and he pushed the strange encounter out of his mind until he was left gaping with the rest as Professor McGonagall called out her name for all to hear.

Black.

...to look so...so...

(Dark, despicable and tainted. Never trust them- can't trust them)

He thought of coolly distant eyes and blank expressions, and felt something in him ache.

(Nothing good ever comes from associating with that family)

She looked...lonely.

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OoOoOoOoOoOoOo ~End

And shortly after, a friendship is born. By reaching out, Cedric will unknowingly make one of the best decisions of his life- you know, because it will increase his chances of actually living it.

Anyway, hope you liked it. The image of Cordelia was made using this picrew:

https://picrew.me/image_maker/45252

and edited with ClipStudio.

Let me know if you want to see more of her, or even if you want to see segments about my other SIs or OCs, and I’ll see what I can pull out.

#Ripples- fanfic #Cordelia M. Black- Ripples #Cedric R. Diggory- Ripples #Yes- I gave Cedric a middle name. Seems like a lot of wizards have them #Cordelia's mom's name is a work in progress. Can't seem to find one that fits yet #Anyway...#Later everyone

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amjustagirl · 3 years

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storm chaser outtakes: his baby girl brings home a boy

genre: parenthood fluff warnings: sex ed talk. wrap it up, kiddos! wc: 910

a/n: set in the storm chaser universe and you can read Atsumu’s other exploits with his daughter here!

Miya Atsumu knew this day would come.

‘Samu told him he’s stupid if it didn’t happen sooner rather than later. Meian had gloated about it. Even Kita, two hours away by train, told him it was an inevitability. Still, that didn’t stop his brain from short circuiting when he’d opened the front door on a Thursday afternoon.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!?”, he’d roared at the sight of Meian Makoto playing tongue hockey with his precious princess.

He’s going to need to burn the sofa tonight. Or throw it out. Whatever works.

At least Makoto had the grace to get off the sofa, even if he looks like he’s praying for the floor to swallow him. Shino, on the other hand, scowls at him, looking uncannily like her mother, growling - “Dad, don’t be unreasonable.”

“I’ll deal with you later”, he grounds out. “Go to your room.”

“I’m staying right here” she yells back stubbornly.

“Go to your room, Shino!” Atsumu thunders, almost a snarl. “Now!”

He doesn’t have time to process the look of betrayal Shino shoots him before the door slams. He turns to stare at Makoto, who keeps his gaze locked on feet. Atsumu fights the urge to bury his face in his hands, opting to pinch the bridge of his nose instead.

“Sit”, he says, pointing at the sofa. Makoto complies, still refusing to meet his eyes.

“Please tell me Meian taught ya how to use a condom - or do I need’ta teach ya myself?” he deadpans.

Makoto’s mouth falls open. Then he promptly chokes, trying his best to cough his embarrassment and lungs out of his chest. “Y-yeah”, the boy says, cheeks flaring red. “I - uh. Dad mentioned. B-but. We’re not..doing that yet.”

Yet. Atsumu’s eyes narrow.

“D’ya need a refresher course? Y’know it’ll fail if ya don’t do it properly, right? I’m too young to have grandkids, please spare me.”

Drama king, he can already imagine his wife scolding him, but that doesn’t deter him.

“Yes, Uncle ‘Tsumu” the boy mutters, looking so young and frightened it strikes a chord, even though it’s his precious baby princess the kid was fooling around with mere minutes ago.

Atsumu sighs heavily, dragging a chair from the kitchen, childishly refusing to sit on the sofa.

“Couldn’t ya have waited ‘til y’all were thirty to get together or somethin’?” he complains, glaring at the boy. “Y’all are just kids - for gods sake, ya haven’t even graduated from high school.”

“I really like Shino”, Makoto says quietly, fiddling with his fingers. “And I’m pretty sure she likes me too.”

“Well - I’m sure of that, considering the way y’all were all over each other on my damn sofa”, Atsumu retorts, amused when the boy flushes even redder.

“But look, ya and Shin-chan both wanna go pro right after high school. One pro athlete in a relationship is hard enough, let alone two. I just don’t want to have to be the one picking up after ya if yer relationship with Shino fizzles out and ends on a bad note.”

At this, Makoto finally meets his eyes.

“It wont”, the boy - no - the young man says simply. Between his unflappable demeanor and the seriousness in his eyes, Atsumu shivers, reminded strongly of his former captain and early morning drills. Damn Meian for tormenting him more than a decade since he retired.

“I love Shino”, Makoto continues steadily. “I’ve loved her ever since we were kids and I would never do anything to hurt her.”

The kid has guts. Colour him impressed. Still, they’re babies, barely formed and completely unready for the harsh reality the world has in store for them.

“Kid, let me give ya some advice. Love isn’t gonna be enough to make your relationship last. Relying on it alone is like jumping off a cliff. It’s shit in your pants scary, and you won’t know where yer gonna land, y’know?”

“I’ll work for it”, Makoto replies, a stubborn set to his jaw. “We’ll work and talk things out together and take each day as it comes”.

Fuck. It’s unreal how this kid is more mature at seventeen than he was at twenty three.

He almost misses how Makoto smiles, almost bashful, a little giddy, but certainly starry eyed.

“At the end of the day I want her to be my person, and I want to be hers, hopefully for the rest of my life.”

With that, Atsumu’s heart swan dives into his stomach and soars back into his chest. His baby girl’s got a boy who truly, truly loves her. He doesn’t know whether to celebrate or mourn. Probably both, preferably in Kaiyo’s lap at the end of the night.

He sighs again, reaches out to clap Makoto on the back.

“Yer a good kid”, he finally says, almost begrudgingly. “Be good to my princess or I’ll kill ya. Then your dad will kill me, so best that doesn’t happen, yeah?’

“I will, Uncle ‘Tsumu”, Makoto says, and it sounds so much like a promise that Atsumu’s heart clenches.

“Right”, Atsumu shifts uncomfortably. “Could ya go get Shino? I probably should apologise for shouting at her like that. Her ma’s gonna rip me a new one.”

Makoto obligingly trots off, but immediately calls out - “Uh. Uncle ‘Tsumu?”

“What?”

“I think Shino climbed down the fire escape.”

“She what?!”

Kaiyo is definitely gonna kill him. Now to figure out which one of her uncles Shino ran off to complain to.

m.list~ taglist.~

#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu x you #atsumu x reader #atsumu x y/n #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x y/n #miya atsumu x you #storm chaser universe #storm chaser #Storm Chaser Outtakes

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

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Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 4

Will

Cult girl attends her grandmother's funeral and is approached with a highly unorthodox last will and testament.

@wisesandwichshark

Trigger warnings: emotional manipulation and abuse, verbal abuse, death, slight emetophobia, body-shaming, ED mention, pregnancy and family planning

There was no use recounting anything from the leading up to the funeral. You spent that first night wine-drunk, munching on foie gras, watching Arrested Development and diagnosing each character to the best of your psychological abilities. You remembered cry-laughing at the same jokes you had memorized, and reminiscing on all the insane shit your own personal Lucille Bluth pulled on you. That was the highlight of the week. It was all downhill from there.

Firstly, you were sick. That Sunday, you wrote it off as a hangover. Then, the hangover returned with a vengeance, just to add salt to the already open wound of having to pretend to mourn your abusive grandmother. At least the physical pain would give your acting an air of sincerity, you thought.

Hannibal dressed in a solid black tux: it was almost uncanny to see him outside of any of his normal checkered suits. You selected a plain black dress and a strand of pearls.

The funeral was to be held at the same country club Anna’s wedding was held. Your grandmother was like a pharaoh, insisting that the empire she built know that even in death, she reigned supreme. The country club was her pyramid.

Anna asked if you wanted to say a few words. As much as you wanted to get up and tell all her country club friends about the time she reported you as an abducted child at age twenty-two when you refused to leave your boyfriend and move back in with her, you knew that it wasn’t in good taste. You racked your brain for any story that could be considered remotely funeral-appropriate, but none came to mind.

You spent the entire funeral trying not to roll your eyes too obviously at the stories of abuse her country club friends somehow remembered fondly. Your soul just left your body throughout the entire process and you were unsure if it would ever return.

All things considered, it could have gone much worse. Then, it did.

The beginning of the end was when your grandmother’s estate lawyer pulled you and Anna aside to conduct the reading of the will. He showed you to a side room, then excused himself before closing the door behind him.

“Hello, [F/N].” Liam greeted, trying to cut through the awkward silence that came with first seeing each other after four straight years. “I’m very sorry about your gran. She was a great woman.”

You gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Thanks, Lee. I appreciate it.”

“No she doesn’t.” Anna muttered. “And it’s Liam.”

“I don’t mind ‘Lee’.” Liam contested. “My mum called me Lee. I actually quite like it.”

Anna was in one of her ‘I’m so upset, please ask me why’ moods. She sat on one of the heavy armchairs with her legs crossed and eyes to the wall. You weren’t going to bite.

Liam wasn’t so cautious. “Princess, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She pouted, not even dignifying her husband with a look. “I just think it’s interesting that I put the funeral together all by myself and someone couldn’t even be bothered to speak.”

You shot Liam a look that said ‘way to go, jackass’.

“Yeah,” You said, sitting down in an adjacent armchair. “That must suck.”

Anna glared at you. “You really have nothing to say? Really?”

You tensed up. “Let’s see, which charming anecdote would you have me tell? How about that time when she made you wear a fat suit for an hour after you complained about how the low-carb ice cream tasted like chemicals?”

Liam looked in shock at his wife. “Did she really?”

“Once.” Anna confessed, holding up one finger.

You turned to Liam, as if you were sharing some hot gossip. “That was all it took to give her an eating disorder when she was thirteen.”

Hannibal was just a fly on the wall. Anna noticed his lack of reaction.

“And I bet Hannibal knows all about this, huh?” Anna said, throwing her hand in his direction. “Because he just needs to hear all of our private family business, right?”

You stood up from your seat. “First of all, I take offense at the implication that my fiancée isn’t family.”

An evil smile spread on Anna’s face. “But he wasn’t always your fiancé, was he, [F/N]?”

“Holy shit, you cracked the code.” You said, flatly. “There was a point in time when Hannibal and I weren’t an item. Real shocker, that one.”

“You know what I mean.” She sneered, then approached Hannibal. “Dr. Lecter, is it true that before you and [F/N] became romantically involved, you were her therapist?”

Liam looked scandalized. Hannibal was just as put-together as always.

“That is true.” He said, feeling no shame whatsoever.

Anna turned back to you. “Now don’t you think that’s just a smidge unethical? For a therapist to date their much younger patient?”

You narrowed your eyes. You carried yourself with the lightness of a woman who finally had the moral high ground. “So you want to talk about what’s ethical, huh? I suppose that means you’ve told Liam about pineapple.”

All the blood drained from her face. You crossed your arms and held your head up a little higher.

“That’s what I thought.” You grinned.

“Look, could we just pretend to be a normal, functioning family for ten minutes?” Anna pleaded, as if there were anyone other than herself to blame for provoking an argument.

“That’s on you two.” Liam, rightfully, pointed out. He gestured to himself and then to Hannibal. “Neither of us have said anything.”

The estate lawyer must have gotten his juris doctorate alongside a master's in impeccable fucking timing, because that was when he decided to make his entrance.

"I'm sorry for the wait, everyone." He announced. "And I'm sorry for having to pull you aside in your hour of mourning. Usually the last will and testament is handled through email to the beneficiaries, but your grandmother was quite adamant it be approached this way."

"That definitely sounds like her." You said, exchanging glances with Hannibal. You'd talked about this for what felt like hours the week prior. She was going to pull some last-minute bullshit to humiliate you from beyond the grave. Give all the inheritance to Anna and leave a snide comment about you in a legal document. You knew it was coming. All you could hope was for it to be quick.

The lawyer pulled an envelope from his briefcase. "She specifically asked for her two living grandchildren and their significant others to be present."

"Did she say it like that?" Anna raised an eyebrow. "Or was it more like, 'Anna and her husband, and [F/N] and her therapist'?"

"Mrs. Young," Hannibal said, taking your hand. "Until you tell your husband about pineapple, you aren't allowed to judge us."

Anna glared at you. "What the hell? He knows, too?!"

"Yeah." You answered. "I tell him everything."

"Okay, who or what is pineapple?" Liam interjected. "And why do I get the feeling I'm the only one not in the know, here?"

"That's cause you are." You confirmed. "And you have your lovely wife to thank for that."

"Everyone!" The lawyer called out. Clearly, he'd seen his share of dysfunctional families. "Please, let me just read the will and you can continue arguing afterwards."

"Y'know what? Fair enough." You said, crossing your legs. "Let's rip off this band-aid, shall we?"

The lawyer opened the envelope and produced a single page. He cleared his throat.

"I, Beatrice [L/N], being of sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath all my worldly possessions-" He began reading the long first sentence. "Including but not limited to, a collective sum of $45 million, the family home and my shares of the country club, to the first of my granddaughters to give birth."

You expected nothing. You expected something. But you never could have expected this.

"Can you please read that last part again?" You asked, unsure if what you heard was the result of a stroke.

"The entire inheritance goes to the first one of you to have a baby." The lawyer clarified, trying to make it sound like a reasonable arrangement.

"That makes sense." Anna said, nodding.

You looked at her, dumbfounded. "How in the fuck on fire does that make sense to you?"

"Well, the money would be going to a good cause." She rationalized. "To raise the baby, right?"

You shook your head. "No, this is insane. Grandma has always had this weird obsession with bloodlines, and now she's trying to incentivize us to carry it out."

"What happens if neither of us can, y'know?" Anna asked.

The lawyer pushed his glasses up his nose. "If neither granddaughter is willing to produce a child, the entire inheritance will go to the Eagle Forum, so my ungrateful grandchildren can learn about family values."

"She hated the Eagle Forum!" Anna objected. "She wouldn't dare."

"She absolutely would." You pressed your fingers into your forehead. "That's upper-class white moderates for you. And she doesn't have to be around to see when they name a fucking wing after her."

"The Beatrice [L/N] center for denying women bodily autonomy." Hannibal said. "It's quite fitting."

"[F/N], we can't let that happen." Anna pleaded. "We can't let Eagle Forum get a penny of that money."

"Why the hell not?" You said. Though on principle, you agreed, you knew this was just another one of your grandmother's power grabs. At the end of the day, she chose to leave her money to the Eagle Forum. And it would be her name on that check, not yours.

"Oh my god, you actually hate babies more than you hate conservatives." Anna stood with her mouth agape.

"Don't put words in my mouth." You snapped. "I don't hate babies. I hate grandma for trying to threaten me into having one. I hate grandma for pinning us against each other and making sure it stays that way."

"What do you have against giving me a little niece or nephew, huh?" Anna folded her arms.

"I'm fucking done." You said, throwing up your hands. "This will be the last you ever see of me."

Of course, that's what you said the last time.

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #more cult girl #cult girl #cult girl 2 #tw pregnancy #tw emotional abuse #tw death #tw conservatives

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slippinmickeys · 3 years

Note

Head Canon AU Mulder and Scully as Archeologist and Scientist at a dig in ruins in the Amazon.

Anon! Thank you so much. I saw this this morning and got that rare inspiration wherein I launched myself at this, and kind of love what I came up with. I hope you enjoy it! (It is unbeta-ed)

1. The University was being cheap. That was the first thing. Piggybacking off the hard work he’d put in: years worth of toil to arrange this meticulously set-up dig. If they wanted to send a team to study advanced medical uses of the vast biome of the Amazon rainforest, they’d do far better sending this approaching medical team into the interior. His team -- his dig -- was practically on the outskirts. The forest around them had already been explored and researched, catalogued and referenced. The real biological finds -- the cures for Alzheimer’s, cancer -- would be found in the unknown, in those places even the aboriginal people hadn’t stepped. The University was being cheap, plunking in a science team on a completely separate mission with his own, just to save some cash. That was the bottom line.

If it hadn’t been so oppressively hot so early in the morning, he might not have been quite so irritated. As it was, he stood on the bank of the river and ran an already sweat-soaked handkerchief over the back of his neck, willing the putting little outboard Evinrude to chug a little more quickly upstream. It was hot and stiflingly humid, and he’d wanted to be at the dig two hours ago, before the heat of the day set in. Too late, that.

The incoming medical team -- if you could call it a team -- seemed to consist of only one person. A short-statured wisp of a woman (if the high, top-knotted messy red bun was any indication of sex) who sat low in the backseat of the approaching riverboat, surrounded by expensive-looking boxes filled with technology that probably wouldn’t operate well in the humidity. He blew an irritated raspberry and shuffled his feet in the muddy squelch of the riverbank.

The stout block of the driver hefted a rope at Mulder as they approached, which Mulder caught easily and wrapped around a nearby tree.

“Tudo vai bem?” Mulder inquired as the man cut the engine and grunted an affirmative.

The passenger stood, keeping a hand on the side of the little tin vessel, its stern fishtailing out into the current. Mulder stepped up and held out a hand, which she grasped gratefully. He pulled and she took a confident leap, landing lightly on the ground next to him.

“Dr. Mulder, I presume?” she said on a light breath, looking up at him with a small smile, having to crane her neck to do so. She had astonishingly blue eyes, a color he’d only seen once, in an ice-cave in the far north. He shook his head after a moment and realized that he was still holding her hand. He dropped it, nodding.

“I thank God, doctor, I have been permitted to see you,” she finished, quoting the journals of Henry Morton Stanley.

Mulder outright laughed. He was smitten immediately.

2. “Be careful with that!” she’d barked, as Langly handed out her equipment to a couple of waiting locals that had been working on the project for three years.

Mulder held up a calming hand.

“You’re working with archeologists, Dr. Scully,” he said softly, “my team has the gentlest hands in the Southern Hemisphere.”

She quirked one side of a grin at him even as she threw a worried look over her shoulder at her equipment.

“Come on,” he said, giving her sleeve a gentle tug, “let me show you around.”

He showed her the latrine first, watching her face carefully for a reaction, but she just nodded nonchalantly and kept walking. Then the mess, and the tent where she’d be working when she wasn’t in the field.

“And this,” he said, taking her to an empty patch of jungle, “is where your bunk will be. My apologies that it’s not set up. There’s no female barracks and we were told you wouldn’t be here until next week. The radio communique we got this morning informing us of your arrival came as something of a surprise.”

“I’m eager to get started,” was all she said in response.

Mulder walked on and she followed him.

“I’m afraid the only empty cot is in my tent,” he said sheepishly. “Dr. Byers headed home for a funeral last month and we’re not expecting him back until March. I’ll be sure yours is set up right away, but takes some time as we have to build a platform first. Have you done jungle field work before?”

“I flew here from Borneo,” she said. “It’s not a problem.” With that, she flipped back the tent’s outer curtain and ducked inside like she owned the place.

She never did move out.

3. Scully’s father had been diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer and hadn’t lived long enough to see her graduate from medical school. She would not let it happen to anyone else if she could help it, she’d said. She worked like a woman possessed.

Against all advice, she would march into the jungle alone and be gone for days at a time. When her grad students finally arrived, they couldn’t keep up with her, and she’d frequently leave them at base camp to work on the equipment (which, Mulder was not really that pleased to report, did have a tendency to malfunction in the miasmic humidity and heat of the Amazon basin. It wasn’t, he admitted, that easy always being right). Occasionally she could be talked into taking one of the local hires with her, but she felt bad taking workers that Mulder’s project funding paid for, and anyway, they weren’t trained in her science, she would tell him.

“I wish you wouldn’t go out on your own,” he murmured into the cup of her ear one night, a trickle of sweat running from her hairline and onto the tip of his nose.

She turned on the cot, a feat, considering its fairly narrow dimensions, and pressed her forehead against his, the flimsy pillow damp beneath them both.

“I’m careful,” she whispered, and threw a leg over him, her dewy mons pressing into the naked flesh of his thigh.

“It’s not safe-” he began to protest, but she’d captured his lips with her own and he fell headlong into the lush heat of her -- whatever concern that had been on the tip of his tongue lost to her rapacious mouth as it trailed a slick path down his torso and latched, vitae and greedy, around the rigid length of him. It was bliss. She was bliss. If he had ever thought he knew love, he was wrong.

4. The whole camp knew they were together. Her tent had become a kind of catchall storage area, and it’s not like nylon canvas could contain the breathy moans of their pleasure. That and she’d just plunk down and sit on his lap whenever the only camp chair available around the mess tent was the one with the tricky leg.

Anyway, what happened in the field stayed in the field, unless it was up for peer review.

“Are you guys going to get married or something?” Mulder’s newest grad student asked one night when the air had actually cooled enough to take the edge off of everybody’s temper. Beer had arrived with their latest resupply and Frohike had syphoned off some LN2 to cool it and it was frosty and rich and maybe the best thing Mulder had ever tasted aside from Scully’s skin.

Scully, from atop his lap, merely shrugged and took a leisurely sip of brew. Mulder pictured it sliding down her throat, the cold blooming into her belly and he dry swallowed, then leaned forward and kissed her shoulder.

“God, don’t be such a newb,” drawled Langly, pressing his glasses into his face compulsively.

Mulder knew what Langly meant. They’d all seen their share of field romances that fizzled the second your boots stepped back onto University soil, though something about Scully felt different; the way their minds worked together, the way she felt in his arms.

“I’m married to the job, bro,” Scully said, but reached back and squeezed the skin just above Mulder’s hip. He kissed her shoulder again.

“D’you tell her about the helo data?” Frohike asked, looking at Mulder from his own camp chair. The little man sat low and back in it with his shoulders hunched up, and Mulder thought he looked a bit like a toad, or an ogre guarding a burial mound.

They’d gotten the funding from a billionaire alumni to fly a helicopter over the whole of the basin in this sector of the Amazon, using light detection radar. Basically, it shot out billions of lasers as it flew overhead that were able to penetrate the rainforest’s canopy and map the landscape below.

“You had a chance to analyze it?” Scully asked, craning her head to look at him squarely.

He nodded, smiling. He’d been saving this to tell her especially.

“And you were able to combine it with the satellite data?” she asked, excited.

He nodded again. “Sóis,” he said, smiling. The settlements they’d found took their name from the Portuguese word for ‘suns.’ They were round villages, all with remarkably similar layouts, with elongated mounds circling a central plaza. When seen from above, they looked like the rays of the sun. “Pre-Columbian.”

She jumped off his lap, spilling half her beer in the process. It dripped down the bare skin of her knee, unnoticed.

“Are you kidding?!” her excitement made him giddy.

“It gets better,” he said, and she cocked her head, waiting for him to elaborate. “They’re laid out like the cosmos,” he said, giving her a full-watt smile as he rose out of the chair to stand in front of her. “We’re already plotted three different villages, all laid out in the exact design of southern constellations.” Her mouth dropped open. “Canis Major, Hydra, and Crux Australis.”

She launched herself into his arms, practically squealing -- something he’d never heard her do -- and he held her, looking around at the smiling faces of the other scientists in the mess. The find would make his career, and her excitement for him touched him profoundly.

5. Martim, one of their local hires, came careening into camp, breathing so hard he had to put his hands on his knees to catch his breath. His face was a mask of anxiety and fear. Mulder felt dread bloom in his gut, and he dropped what he was doing -- actually dropped the computer tablet he was holding to the wet forest floor -- and ran over to the man, grasping him firmly by the shoulder.

“Martim?” he said, “O que aconteceu?”

“Dr. Scully,” the man heaved, his accent thick. He could still scarcely breathe.

“Where is she?” Mulder didn’t have the emotional wherewithal to translate from English. “What happened?”

“Hurt,” the man wheezed, “she’s hurt.”

It took nearly thirty minutes to assemble a rescue party, and they had to let Martim rest for a bit and give him food and water before he could take them back out into the jungle where he’d left Scully. Mulder was beside himself by the time they finally started off, impatient as a recalcitrant child, sick to his stomach with worry.

It took three hours to hack into the area where she’d been doing her search, and a further twenty minutes of calling her name before they heard her weak call back.

Mulder raced ahead without thought to obstacle or danger, and skidded to a halt when he was practically on top of her. She was leaning back against the base of a large tree, holding onto her right ankle, which she had elevated on her left knee. There was a length of rope beside her and a climbing harness around her butt and waist.

“Scully,” he panted, falling to his knees beside her.

She smiled at him weakly, her face pale and sweaty.

“I think it’s broken,” she hissed, pointing at her ankle.

“What happened?” Mulder asked, as the rest of the rescue party trundled in behind him, pulling off backpacks and other equipment. Someone handed Scully a bottle of water.

“I saw a fungus I’d never seen before growing on the bark midway up this tree,” she said after guzzling half a bottle of Arrowhead. “The carabiner failed on my descent.”

“Oh, Scully,” Mulder said, reaching out to tuck a damp lock of titian hair behind her ear.

“I got the sample, though,” she said with a tired, but victorious glint in her eye.

They weren’t back into camp until well after nightfall.

Mulder picked her up from the field stretcher and carried her into their tent, depositing her gently onto her cot. Langly came in behind him and handed him two fresh cold packs before ducking back out without a word. Mulder popped them to activate the chemicals and pressed them gingerly on either side of Scully’s ankle.

“I’m going to call for a medical evac,” he said quietly.

“Don’t you dare,” she said, grabbing at his hand and squeezing it. “Mulder, don’t you fucking dare.”

“Scully, we’ve got to follow protocol here,” he said, trying not to sound put out.

“Do not take me out of the field, Mulder. Promise me.”

“Scully-”

“Promise me!”

“How will you even work?” he said a little desperately.

“It doesn’t need setting or surgery,” she said, gesturing to her injured limb.

“How do you know that without an X-ray?”

“I’m a medical doctor,” she said, by way of explanation, “I can secure it with supplies we have on hand. I can work from my cot for a few days and make crutches out of tree limbs. Please, Mulder,” she said, and he could feel himself relenting, even if it would get him in trouble. “Please.”

He sighed, and she smiled up at him weakly, though he didn’t say a thing.

“Thank you,” and closed her eyes, relaxing into her pillow, “thank you.”

Six weeks later the canvas of their tent ripped back and the greenish glow of leaf-filtered sunlight shone into the murky, damp depths. Mulder rose from where he was resting on his cot and looked to the entrance. Scully stood there, armpit resting on her improvised crutch, her hair a rich autumn frizz around her head. Her eyes were wide and shining, and there was something incandescent about her in that moment -- an energy pulsing from her that lit his soul from within.

“Scully-” he started, but she held up a hand to silence him. Her hands were shaking.

“I found it,” she said, her voice breathy with the triumph of discovery, “Mulder, I found it.”

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eunoiaflow3r · 3 years

Text

when worlds collide - h.p. x gn!avenger!reader

a/n: bahahahahaha no one reads harry x reader lmaoo you don’t have to tell me - i know. but still, i thought this was a cute idea and i went with it. hope you enjoy :)

not edited.

also: timelines don’t match up bc i don’t want to do the math so harry is like 20 - 21 and your like 19 - 20 in 2020. Civil War and everything on didn’t happen. Fred didn’t die.

gn = gender neutral

warning(s): “language!” - captain america.

word count: 3.1k

request(ed): no.

summary: stephen sends y/n to a strange new place with...wizards?

————————————-&—————————————

Never doubt Stephen Strange. That's something that pretty much everyone has accepted. Never second guess the wizard man. Usually you'd agree. Usually you'd just let the man babble about whatever he needed to and then go about your day.

Not now.

The fuckery.

Now you were here (wherever here was) after some flashes of orange and a "be careful." Did he even do the spell right? Is this really where you were supposed to be?

It was dark, and dirty and you just wanted to go home and not talk to anyone so you turned yourself invisible.

You were born with your powers - you think. You were adopted so you wouldn't know where your powers came from. All you know is that one day your parents couldn't find you, even though you were right there. Instead of thinking you were some kind of alien and throwing you out to labs, they helped you control it the best you could.

It was difficult at first, all things considered, but you got through. You discovered you had another power as well. Force fields. Those came in handy during the battles. (You helped where you could), and Tony Stark took you in afterwards as his own. He helped you create your suit, and your name, and discover more about your powers, he was basically a dad to you.

Your parents were a little hesitant letting you join the Avengers, but once they realized this is what you were meant to do, and you had people just like you protecting you, they couldn't keep you from that. They just couldn't.

So here you were, invisible, in some dark and creepy alley. There were doors either side of you, so you got out of the way considering they could open and smack you in the face at any given moment. You heard loud voices and laughing and cheering from both ends of the alley so you walked towards the one in front of you.

The voices were so loud and echoey that you really couldn't focus on anything else. Maybe that's why you didn't hear a boy behind you trip and fall into you from behind.

"I'm so sorry." he said helping you up.

You turned around to help him, he got awfully dirty, and searched for his glasses that fell off his face.

Once standing, he took out a stick, waved it over him, and all of a sudden the dirt and gravel was gone.

"How did you do that?" You were no stranger to magic, but this was something you've never seen before. And why would he do it in front of you? For all he knew, you were an unknowing human.

"What?" He asked eyebrows furrowed together, accent strong.

"With the stick."

He chuckled shoving the stick back in his cloak.

"The stick." He smiled and looked you up and down. "It's a wand. You must not be from around here."

"Yeah, what tipped you off?" You noticed the lightning bolt scar on his head. You wondered how he got it.

"The accent, the clothes, the inability to recognize a simple wand, the ability to be here, not recognizing me, and wait - where is your cloak?"

"Cloak?"

"You were just invisible a moment earlier but I don't see your cloak anywhere."

"I don't have one. I can make myself invisible without a piece of fabric or your fancy stick." You say sarcastically. Were you flirting?

"Handy." He grins. "The name's Harry Potter."

He holds his hand out for you to shake. "Y/N L/N."

He asks you if you want to talk somewhere besides a dark dirty alley. You agreed. It took some convincing though to let him use his stick to clean the clothes you had on, but to change your outfit to something less, standout-ish.

When you felt the witch hat on your head you immediately snatched it off your head and glared at him.

He just laughed.

Once out of the alley, you breathed in the now clean air, and was mesmerized. People were bustling in and out of small shops, animals were flying and chirping around their owners, children were running around with their friends and siblings, and people were waving sticks, or wands, just like Harry used.

"C'mon, this way." He smiled at your awestruck face. It reminded him of when he first arrived with Hagrid all those years ago.

He brought you inside a coffee shop, and sat you at a booth near the window knowing you'd probably want to still look outside at the new scenes.

After ordering, and a few moments of silence as you looked around, you decided to ask some questions.

"Where am I?"

"We're in Diagon Alley. It's like an outside mall."

"I mean like, planet? I guess?"

"Earth."

"Earth?"

"Well, more specifically London. Diagon Alley."

"London?! I'm in London?!"

"You've never been? To Earth? Or London?"

You rolled your eyes silently cursing Strange. "I'm from Earth. The United States, actually. I just wish he'd put me on a fucking plane or something instead of making it seem like I was going to Mars."

"He?" Harry was very curious.

You looked into his green eyes, your mind wandering. The guy in front of you was very attractive. His dark hair complimented his eyes, and his glasses made him even more attractive.

"You guys are wizards right?"

"Really? What gave you that impression?" He asks sarcastically. "The sticks, the pointy hats, or the big bowl with green liquid sitting outside?”

You rolled your eyes. "Very funny. It's not my fault you live into the stereotype of brewing potions in your cauldrons -"

"Oh well I can only assume you're one of those Avengers from the States, yeah?" He grins. "You guys are all over the news."

"Yes, sure -"

"And don't one of you wear capes and another shoot lasers or lightning or whatnot? Sounds very stereotypical to me."

You laugh as the waitress brings over your drinks and muffins. You thank her. "No, well yes, that's Strange and Thor, but that's besides the point -"

"Well of course it's strange." He grins and winks and you over his mug. He was purposely annoying you and found great joy in it.

"Anyway," you sigh getting back to the point. "Do you guys have a Wizard here, like a powerful, trusting, all-knowing kind of guy?"

His eyes dropped slowly and his smile dimmed for a moment before slowly widening once again.

"Had. His name was Dumbledore."

"Our guy is Stephen Strange. Or Dr. Strange. He sent me here, and I'm not sure why."

"Hmmm." He hums setting down his mug. "Are the states in danger? Were you sent here on a secret quest that would put you through tough trials that would risk your life but would ultimately save everyone you've ever loved so you just have to do it?"

You were in a silent shock. "Uhm. No, not that I'm aware of, no."

"Well then perhaps your Wizard Strange is playing matchmaker."

"Matchmaker?"

"Well you were sent here weren't you?" You nod. "Arrived outside the exact place where I was and I just happened to bump into you? Sounds like a set-up to me."

"Or a coincidence."

"I'd like to think it was fate that I bump into the most attractive person I've ever seen and they don't know who I am and won't judge me 'cause of my past." He took a bite of his muffin.

"Should I be worried?"

"I guess you'll have to figure that out yourself." He winks.

You decide to eat your muffin as well. It was a comfortable silence until you looked out of the window and noticed a guy crouching down behind a cauldron...with a camera.

"Harry?"

"Hm?"

"Why is there a man outside taking pictures of you?"

His eyes widened. "Oh shit." He whispered. "Here." He took out a baseball cap and put it over your head, hiding your face from the camera.

He gets out of his seat quickly pulling you along with him to the back of the shop but before you could say anything he had his wand pulled out.

Next thing you saw was a couch and living room.

"Wow." You panted. "What a way to bring a girl home."

"I apologise Y/N, I block them out so much I forget they're even there and now they've seen you, and have a story and -"

"Wait, wait, wait, are you wanted for murder or something?"

Harry walks over to his bookshelf and pulls out a rather large book. After opening up on the table, he waved his wand over it and beckons you over to read it.

'Boy who lived.'

'Golden boy defeats Voldemort'

'winner of Triwizard tournament'

And there was so much more… 'Harry Potter' in bold just strewn across the pages. His whole life story.

Your eyes widen at everything. "So both and neither. War hero. How come I've never heard of you? Or any of this?"

He smiles at the pages fondly, running his fingers across the letters and reminiscing on his times at Hogwarts.

"Unlike you Avengers, we like to keep our business private and quiet. We don't like prying eyes."

You scoff. "Not our fault we have alien invasions every year."

Harry agreed and for the rest of the night you sat on his couch talking and sometimes arguing, over every little thing. It felt like you two had known each other forever.

You're not sure when, but you fell asleep there and woke with your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around your waist. You're not sure how the two of you ended up this way, and you realized you were practically strangers, but you didn't want to move. You just wanted to tangle your fingers through his dark hair.

But you didn't. Instead you stared at his closed eyes, and focused on his long, dark, eyelashes that fluttered a little from time to time. You thought about how you could get used to this. Waking up with his arm wrapped around you.

You told him last night that if he was actually a serial killer, and wanted to kill you that you had a whole team of people who would rip him limb from limb. He had no doubts and looked actually scared of your threat.

You thought about what it'd be like to live here among people like you.

Stomach grumbling, you decided to get up and see if he had anything you could make for him. It's the least you could do. His face turned when you left his arms, but you quickly pulled the blanket over him so he would be able to sleep a little longer.

You found his bathroom, and washed your face. In your backpack was a toothbrush and some toothpaste so you brushed your teeth, fixed your hair, and got dressed.

By the time you got out of the bathroom, you noticed Harry was still sleeping so you went into the kitchen and tried to find anything remotely close to breakfast foods. By the look of his inventory, you could tell he was very good at cooking but hadn’t been to the store in a while. He did have some eggs and toast though so you decided to make that.

In the middle of it, you got a phone call from Strange.

“Strange?”

“Harry Potter.” he says.

“What?” you were so confused as to how Stephen knew ANYTHING.

“You’re in his place, we've been tracking you.”

“So I guess we should probably have a talk about privacy? I don’t know, it just seems like something we should discuss you know? Cause usually people can respect that - especially people who just DUMP you here in the first place -“

“Calm down that’s what the mission was. While you were sleeping, we searched the place with a camera we put on you and he’s not who we thought he was. You completed the mission L/N. Great job.”

“Is he a danger?”

“Not necessarily. Just making sure your fine is all.”

“What -?”

He hung up.

Why wouldn’t Strange tell you his intentions? Why would he let you stay here if he thought Harry might have been a bad guy? Why would he risk that?

Right as you hung up Harry Potter walked into the kitchen with his lenses in between his shirt - he was cleaning his glasses.

His dark hair hung over his eyes but his eyebrows were raised.

“You made breakfast?”

“It was the least I could do. I didn’t mean to fall asleep but thank you for letting me stay.”

He smiled and put his glasses back on. In doing so his gray shirt lifted and you could see his abs. You turned away a blushed.

“It was no big deal. Thank you for making breakfast, love. You didn’t have to.”

You didn’t say anything and instead placed both of your finished plates on the dining room table. He followed you and sat down immediately digging in.

“These are the best eggs i’ve ever eaten Y/N thank you.”

You smiled in response but then frowned remembering your conversation with Strange. You should probably tell Harry.

“So,” you cleared your throat. “You were wrong.”

He gave you a look that meant “about?”

“Dr. Strange - the wizard I work with - he likes to check out potential threats and make sure that ya’know - the earth stays safe and everything. Je can kind of see the future and its propabilities. He did the same thing with Thor and his brother Loki.”

“Okay, go on.”

You cringed. “And so he called me and told me that he sent me here so he could see you? I don’t know I guess he saw you as a threat and wanted to make sure you weren’t.”

You looked at Harry but his face was clear of any and every emotion. He just continued to eat his eggs. It was silent.

You ate a bit at your eggs too until he spoke up which made you look up.

“I can’t say I’m very surprised honestly. With everything you guys manage to fuck up there I’d wanna know if someone else was about to create shit problems too.”

You sighed with relief. He wasn’t mad.

“I’m sorry really Harry, I didn’t even know.”

“No yeah it’s fine. I get it. I still think he sent you specifically for a reason though. There’s just no way we aren’t soul mates or something.”

“Oh shut up Potter.”

He smiled. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Gee your head must hurt.”

He squints at you jokingly. “You should let me take you out. I can show you around today. Y’know, so you can see what wizards are like.”

“Is this a date?”

His face flushes red and he looks down at his plate. “Yeah, yeah it’s a date.”

And a date it was.

“What the fuck is wrong with you Harry! Again?!” You practically screamed. Harry called it aparation but you call it hell. You let it go the first time but damn. He barely even warned you, just took your hand, held it tight, pulled you close, and waved his wand.

It was teleportation. Something you’ve never ever done before.

“Fucking hell Potter I’m going to murder you.”

“And Strange was worried about your safety? This is like your 4th time threatening to end my life and besides, it wasn’t even that bad.”

You rolled your eyes.

Throughout the day Harry showed you all sorts of things you’d never ever seen before. This consisted of every flavor jelly beans (and by every flavor they really meant every flavor), a chocolate frog, and never ending bubble gum. And that was just on the candy side.

He took you inside this joke shop ran by two of his friends from his old school he called hogwarts. They were twins that went by the names of Fred and George. The only twins you had ever met was Wanda and Pietro but telling the story of Pietro’s death seemed to sour Harry’s mood but excite the twins. The fact that he sacrificed himself for a little boy made him a hero in their eyes. They begged you to tell them more stories.

By the end of the day you went back to Harry’s place and you were exhausted. You can’t believe all that you’ve seen and eaten. How was this stuff even possible? How was it all hidden? You were amazed.

Harry was glad to see you had a good day and glad that he had met you. When you got back, he told you that you could stay another night...and perhaps in the bed instead of the couch. He hadn’t meant it in a dirty way but that didn’t stop you from laughing until tears came out of your eyes. He was so awkward at times. Once he had to ask if it was okay to take your hand while you were in the street and it was so cute how he couldn’t really find the words even for something as simple as hand holding.

“Harry?”

“Hm?”

You both were laying in his bed facing the other.

“I had a lot of fun today. I feel like i’ve known you forever.”

He grinned from ear to ear and was glad that you couldn’t see him. He would have been beyond embarrassed if you’d seen how unmistakably happy that made him.

“I had fun with you Y/N. You’re great company.”

You were silent for a moment.

And another.

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

You were scared of his response and your heart was practically beating out of your chest. What if he was just being friendly? What if he just wanted to be friends? You would have made a huge fool of yourself. You were going to turn away embarrassed until his hand came up to your face and slipped onto your cheek. He was so warm. His lips pressed against yours for a moment and then he pulled away.

After a moment he reconnected and moved his lips against yours slowly. Your hand went to the back of his neck and toyed with his hair. He groaned into your mouth. You smiled and scooted even closer to him. All you could hear was the sound of your breathing and kissing. You didn’t want to pull away but you had to.

“Harry.” you said practically breathless.

“Yeah.” he was breathless too.

“I want to show you my world. You should come see New York.”

“Yeah? You wanna show me those alien invasions and robot attacks?”

You laughed and snuggled into Harry. He wrapped his arm around you and kissed your neck.

“Mhmm.”

“I’d love to see it.”

Tags:

@romance-geek @gooseyhouse

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emletish-fish · 3 years

Text

Worst Prisoner: Painted lady - Jee deleted scene.

Zuko had issues.

Jee had always known this, but now everyone seemed to think it was part of his job to solve those issues. There was the walking issue, the dressing himself issue, the randomly disappearing and giving his guards a merry game of hide and seek issue, the breaking into the kitchen in the middle of the night to make himself a snack issue, the brazenly making himself a snack in the middle of the morning issue, the being completely incapable of putting the spices back in the right spot issue.

Jee was already trying to think of bastard reasons for all the problems in the Fire Nation, he didn’t want to be responsible for solving all of Zuko’s issues too. He was paid well, but nowhere near enough to take on that mountain of dysfunction.

“He listens to you!” The head bearer had insisted when Jee asked why everyone kept coming to him.

“He really doesn’t,” Jee replied.

Yet despite this, the servants kept coming to him anyway. One of these servants was a smiling chef named Misao. She was close to his age, with a soft voice and a sweet laugh. She also made the best dumplings Jee had ever had. She lamented that the fact that the spices were always put back wrong after Zuko nightly snack escapades and it was taking her so much longer to produce her delicious treats. She had provided Jee with some, to ‘taste test’.

Jee was aware that this was a shameless food bribe.

He smelled the delicious bribery and considered his options.

It turned out Jee went cheap. A basket of dumplings and a smile were enough to motivate him.

“Why won’t you let the servants help you?” He asked Zuko later that day.

“It feels weird getting people to do things for me that I can do myself,” (where was this attitude on the ship?) “I can dress myself just fine, I don’t need four guys looming over me.”

“It would be faster if you let them help you.” Jee tried. The head wardrobe assistant had given Jee a lovely new dress shirt, ostensibly for all the bullshit functions that he may have to attend.

“No it’s not!” Zuko argued. “Once, I asked if they could help me with the cuffs and there was this huge scuffle over who got to do it, and two of them fell over each other. One of them twisted his ankle, and then they got so weird when I tried to apply a compression bandage and I ended up being three candle lengths late.”

Jee had heard about that. The servants seemed very perplexed that Prince Zuko was good to them for doing the least amount of work on offer in the palace. Ozai and the Princess tended to at least lightly toast people for the slightest error. Zuko never came close to even threatening them, and this made working for him the most popular position at the Palace. More than the wardrobe department were falling over themselves to do things for him, only to be thwarted by Zuko’s attitude.

“You need to let them do their jobs, or...” Jee began, but he wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. He wasn’t sure what happened in Ozai’s Palace to servants who didn’t do their jobs, but he was going to assume it was something bad.

Zuko was instantly concerned. He’d obviously come to the same conclusion.

“Fine,” he gave a resigned sigh. “I’ll let them do the ceremonial outfits, and collars and sashes and stuff. Happy?” he said, backing down instantly the moment he thought someone was getting hurt over his behaviour. Interesting.

“Well, I was thinking the palaquin...”

“No, I’m not budging on the walking issue.”

“I’m not asking you to... but could I take it...with my leg and all?” Jee suggested, testing his theory.

“Oh, Jee. You should have said something earlier! I’d never have made you walk if I’d known!” Zuko snapped sounding cross, but looking like he felt guilty. “Of course you can.”

“I can't take it on my own. You’d have to sit with me.” (Firelord Ozai may have only listened to bastard reasons, but it turns out Prince Zuko responded best to the nicest reasons.)

“Fine!” (But he wasn’t happy about it)

“About the snack making, you know they are all highly trained chefs...”

“I like to make my own snacks. Why is it such a big deal?”

“I’m just saying, they can make it expertly and it hurts their feelings when you keep rejecting their food and making your own. (Inexpertly, according to Misao. She was horrified at the amount of sevenspice the prince used. Jee had told her it was hard to get outside the Caldera. It probably tasted like home to the prince. Misao made a soppy face, like Jee had just handed her an adorable, wounded turtle-duck. She promptly adjusted the amount of sevenspice she used when she cooked for Zuko.)

"When you cook for yourself it shames them most deeply. It is considered a grave insult and heaps dishonour upon them -"

Zuko shot him a look. Jee had been laying it on a little thick.

"Look, just taste this. You might like it. The dumpling chef made this for me - and they're pretty good” Jee offered out one of Misao’s treats.

“No, thank you.”

“Ah well, more for me.” Jee shrugged and took a bite out of one, moaning like it was the most orgasmic thing he had ever eaten.

“Stop that!” Zuko said and snatched the box away. He glanced down at it disdainfully, before smirking widely. “Wait, the dumpling chef made this especially for you?"

Jee nodded.

"Did you notice she’s arranged these into a heart for you?" he sounded very amused.

Jee felt extremely embarrassed. He was far too old to be teased about having a crush by some snot-nosed teenager. He snatched his box back. “If you don’t want any, I’ll take this back.”

“No, I want to try one now.” Zuko wouldn’t let it go. He tried one and his eyes widened. “This is really good. It tastes like it was made with love...”

Sweet hell, this was Prince Zuko trying to be subtle. Jee smoothed his shirt in a dignified manner and chose to ignore that last comment.

“She must really like you,” Zuko continued. “Sok - my friend said that girls put extra effort into their food when they like a guy. You should ask her out.”

"I'm not taking dating advice from you, your highness."

"Well, I'm just saying that she even cut the carrot garnishes into heart shapes and…"

-0-0-0-

So there was this whole side bit where Jee got a lady friend, but I cut it for length. However, here is a snippet of it. It’s an unbeta -ed mess, but I still kinda like this scene.

#the worst prisoner #Emletish writes #worst prisoner deleted scenes #jee #zuko #love these two #jee is easily swayed by a food bribe #I mean #who isn't

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whitestaghere · 3 years

Text

Paris in the rain - Edmund Pevensie x reader (Oneshot)

Sksksksksjjjsk.. had this idea for a story the second I started listening to Paris in the rain by Lauv. So here you go! I hope you all enjoy it!!

Warnings - none

Song :- Paris in the Rain

Peaceful.

Sitting up on a hill which gave a beautiful view of narnia. Down below you could see the battle field. Where it all had happened. Where I, Caspian, the Kings and Queens of Old and many Narnians had fought to save their home, to save their people, and won victoriously.

The sky highlighted with an orange hue, with clouds swirled in various directions. Like that of a painting.

A light breeze sweeping past me; I let out a sigh, closing my eyes. Yes. Peaceful indeed. The silence almost making me want to drift off into dreamland.

But soon that silence was broken with a clear of throat. Eyes shooting open I looked around me to find the source of the sound only to lock eyes with those warm chocolate like ones.

Edmund.

"Your majesty," I stand up bowing down to him.

He chuckled. Placing a hand on my shoulder; he slowly pushed me down back onto the grass, making himself comfortable next to me.

Scrunching his nose and furrowing his eyebrows, he scoffed, "I thought I told you not to call me that.."

Giggling to myself I rolled my eyes playfully, looking back at the view laying infront of us.

"It's beautiful isn't it?"

"Yeah.." he sighed.

Shifting my gaze towards him I couldn't help but smile to myself. Breathtaking. Eyes closed, lashes fluttering against his skin ever so lightly. Brown locks gently dancing around his head with the breeze. Freckles on display almost like art. And his plush pink lips slightly parted.

Yes. Breathtaking.

Years of friendship, doing absolutely everything together. In and out of the Pevensie's house and them the same with mine. In time I had managed to catch feelings for the boy. Lucy being the first to notice. She was more excited than I was, which was absolutely adorable to watch. Susan and Peter catching up on it a little later, after they caught enough of me stealing glances at him constantly. And soon enough, that developed to something more. The feelings grew stronger.

But fear washed over me. The friendship we had was so precious to me and so to him as he and his siblings say. So thinking of the million possibilities, I didn't want to ruin what we had right now. So I kept my feelings to myself.

Turning his head towards me he smiled softly. Oh that smile. That damned smile.

"Y/N?"

"Hmm?"

He tilted his head a little raising an eyebrow, "you've been staring at me quite a while now.. I'm beginning to think you like what you see." He wiggled his eyebrows now.

Heat rising upto my cheeks, I nudged him gently while rolling my eyes, trying to hide the blush on my face. But with the way he was boring his eyes into me I couldn't really help it. Clearing my throat I tried to make up a sentence.

"Ooh look! You're blushing!" he pinched my cheek. "You really do fancy me huh Y/N?"

Swatting his hand away I replayed that sentence in my head. Fancy him? Part of me wanted to think he was flirting with me the second he sent a playful wink my way. But the other part of me just knew it was normal in our friendship for him to be a little bit of a brat sometimes.

Oh but that didn't stop me from being a blushing mess around him of course.

"I-I-" looking away from him, I stared at the setting sun in awe, "look! The sun's setting!"

He let out a chuckle. Looking at him from the corner of my eye, I could see his gaze back on the setting sun.

Smiling to myself I fumbled with my hands.

"I see why you like coming up here.." Edmund broke the silence.

Humming I didn't break my gaze from the view in front of me. "I feel at ease here.. feels like a moment away from all the worries of the world. Just peaceful." Letting out a sigh in content I continued, "It's like I finally feel-"

"Free.." he said along with me.

Looking at eachother without a word, I smiled at him softly.

"I wonder if the skies are like this in Paris," the sky now turning into a pinkish colour. I laughed to myself. Edmund knew very well how much I love to go to Paris.

"Well, when we go back home, I'll take you there," he flashed me a grin.

Raising my eyebrow at him I laughed, "you? Take me to Paris?"

Smirking he nodded his head, "yes me!" My heart fluttered at the thought itself.

Honestly speaking, with Edmund here, everything just feels right. I really had nothing to fear. He's helped me uncountable times. Picked me up whenever I fell, and always pushed me to do my best.

"Edmund?"

"Hmm?" his eyes still fixated in front of him.

"Thank you.."

"For what?" he tilted his head a little, this time eyes focusing on me.

"For believing in me.. being there for me."

He hummed in response. "What friends are for.."

My smile dropped at that. Friends. What was I even thinking? That's what it always was. What it always will be.

Like I said, that flirtatious nature was just something normal when it came to being friends with Ed. It's too good to be true anyways. Maybe we're really better off friends.

I was so caught up thinking about the term he considered us, that I hadn't noticed the pair of eyes almost literally, burning holes into the side of my head. The change in my expression not going unnoticed by him.

He was always observant. Knew exactly what was going on around him.

Feeling an odd warmth upon my hands I looked at them. Inhaling a sharp breath my eyes shifted back towards the owner.

The way he looked at me, felt like he was staring right into my soul. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing Ed.. there's nothing wrong." I faked a smile at him.

Now intertwining his larger hands with mine he shifted so he was sitting right in front of me. Obviously not buying my answer.

"You're a terrible liar you know? Years of knowing eachother and you really think I can't tell when something is wrong?" he laughed.

Trying not to look into his eyes I gulped. Hooking a finger under my chin he turned me to face him.

"Now tell me what's wrong silly," he smiled at me softly. "Tell me love."

I blushed at the nickname. He had called me this before but this time it hit me harder. He really isn't making this any easier for me. Mindlessly I spat out what was at the tip of my tongue, "am I your friend?"

Oh Aslan.

I mentally facepalmed. Way to go Y/N.. out of all the things you could've said, this? Really?

He laughed. "What world have you been living in all this time to not know?"

I looked away in embarrassment. "Of course you're my friend silly. Actually, more like family at this point."

Well that was enough to show that he only considers me as a sister. I hope my inner self has that clear enough now. I felt like punching myself for even giving him the opportunity to rub that at my face.

I chuckled bitterly and nodded my head in response, "yeah.." He shrugged shifting once again to make himself comfortable. Hands still in his he traced circles on mine with his thumb.

That's it. I really need to tell him. With a sudden wave of confidence I looked at him, "you really don't see it do you?"

"What do you mean?"

I let out a laugh of frustration. Taking in a breath I began, "I've always been thankful for you and your siblings. I absolutely love and adore the bond that we have. But I umm began to feel something different. Feelings come and go they do, but with you it's different. Anywhere with you feels right. When I'm with you, I feel so happy, I feel like I can finally be myself, I feel safe.. I really hope this won't ruin our friendship but I feel like you have a right to know.. I-I.."

He sat there in silence, listening with eyebrows slightly furrowed. Hoping he wouldn't hate me after this I continued.

"I-I-I like you.." at this he widened his eyes a little and looked away, scratching the nape of his neck.

Panicked I looked away, "listen I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. Please, please just forget it, I hope you don't hate me. I'm so soo sorry."

No response.

Sighing I stood up trying my best to hold back my tears, "I-I have to go.."

"Y/N, wait.."

Stopping in my tracks I mustered up all my courage to face him. Turning around my gaze locked with his. The look on his face was absolutely unreadable.

"Edmund I-"

He shook his head. Coming closer to me he placed a hand on my cheek. It took all the strength I had in me not to squeal. He began to lean in. What is he doing?! My body refusing to make a move, I watched as his eyes momentarily flicked from my eyes to my lips.

Finally closing the space between us he brushed his lips against mine. Just for a brief second. But even when he pulled away, the feeling of his lips still lingered.

I couldn't believe it.

Edmund Pevensie. The Edmund Pevensie kissed me.

He pulled away smiling shyly, "I hope that answers everything?"

I looked at him in confusion. What does this actually mean? "I.. Ed I don't get i-"

Placing his lips on mine once again he shut me up. But this time he didn't pull away. His hand still on my cheek and the other now snaking around my waist; he pulled me flush against him. Slowly moving my lips against his, he smiled into the kiss. Tilting his head, he deepened the kiss. The breeze brushing past us, time seemed like it was slowing down around us.

As soon as he pulled away in order for us to catch our breaths, I covered my face in embarrassment, wanting to run away. But my body said otherwise and decided to stay.

He laughed removing my hands off my face and holding them in his, "you don't know how long I've been waiting to do that, how long I've waited to hear you say those words."

"So.. it's umm.. it's mutual?"

He nodded his head.

"B-but.."

"I'm sorry," he cut me off. "For not saying anything before. I was just so shocked when I heard all that. I just couldn't believe it. Truth is, I've liked you for a long while now."

Widening my eyes my mouth fell open, "you-you what?!" At this point I swear my ears were just playing tricks on me.

As if reading my thoughts he nodded his head, "isn't it obvious? I like you too. I really wanted to confess before, but I was just too afraid. Afraid that I'd scare you off if you didn't feel the same.. I tried to brush it off several times for the sake of our friendship. But well, that.. didn't work. So yes. Conclusion is, I like you too. And since the feelings are mutual I guess it's safe to say, I always have and I always will."

All of this. It was like a dream come true.

"Love is a strong word they say. But with you, love it is."

As if on cue, we both cringed visibly. Looking at eachother without a word, we burst into a fit of giggles.

"When did you get so cringy Ed?" I managed between laughs.

"Cringy much, I thought so.." he laughed.

"But," he paused. "But its true. How I feel."

I smiled at him softly nodding my head, "guess I could say, you fancy me too?"

He laughed heartily. "Yes, you can. So miss Y/N.. now that we both fancy eachother, to make this official, may I- may I court you?"

Smiling widely I nodded my head once again, "yes. Yes you may."

He pulled me into his arms. Snaking my arms around his torso I breathed in his scent. He rested his head upon mine, "my best friend, is my girlfriend. I like the sound of that."

"Yeah, I like it too," I giggled.

Placing my head on his shoulder, he slowly began to sway our bodies together. Under the night sky. Together. It felt just amazing.

"I love you Y/N," he whispered.

"I love you too Ed," I sighed contently. Anywhere with Edmund, feels like Paris in the rain.

Okay wow... I literally wrote half of this while listening to Paris in the rain. It really is a lovely song.

I hope you all enjoyed this! ❤️ I'm sorry if there were any mistakes. Please do send in requests. Love you all and stay safe <3

#chronicles of narnia #edmund pevensie #edmund x reader #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund pevensie imagine #king edmund #peter pevensie #susan pevensie #lucy pevensie #prince caspian #narnia aslan #narnia

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lenathogwarts · 3 years

Text

Dark Days (Ransom Drysdale x Reader)

WARNINGS: description of depression and its symptoms, mentioning of suicidal thoughts, ANGST! - angsty story with a message behind it (gets fluffy towards the end)

This One-Shot has a major trigger warning! If you suffer(ed) from depression and/or have suicidal thoughts and know, that reading about these topics triggers you, don’t interact with the story! I’m serious! Don’t!

This story is purely meant as an outlet and doesn’t intend to glorify any of the things mentioned above. I would never want to pull anyone down! So – if this is not your cup of tea, just skip this one 😊 Remember to take care of yourself (especially with everything that is going on right now!) ♥ If you ever feel lonely or just need/want someone to talk to, feel free to message me!

Word Count: 780

(Barely edited, all mistakes are my own, hope you enjoy reading anyways! ♥)

You loved the happy days. Laughing, smiling, drinking in the beauty of the world. On these days, everything was easy. No insecurities or thoughts that wore you down. Everything was just as it should be.

But there were also the darker days.

On which you didn’t feel optimistic.

On which it was difficult to laugh.

On which the world started being just a little less colourful than usual.

In the beginning, you hadn’t worried about these days all too much. They tended to go just as fast as they came. And everyone had bad days. No one could be happy all the time.

Right?

Gradually, the bad days became worse. At first, you didn’t even notice that it was happening, but slowly your mind started going … places. Your thoughts started to scare you. You knew they were unhealthy. You knew they weren’t true.

Right?

But just before you could lose control, you pulled yourself back from the edge.

No, you weren’t worthless.

No, you weren’t unworthy of being loved.

No, it wouldn’t be easier for everyone if you weren’t here.

As soon as you had managed to stir yourself away from that cliff, the happy days followed.

Life was good again.

And you tried your best to ignore the threatening dark shadows looming right at the edge of your little world.

Ever since the world had gone to shit, the dark days had become more frequent. Over the last year, every ounce of joy stashed away for the bad times, had been sucked out of you until there was nothing left but an empty shell. While everyone seemed to be able to move on with their lives, even finding the power to grow and improve themselves, your life became stagnant. Stuck in the same place as the year before, with no progress to show, you started plummeting down the spiral towards the ground headfirst.

Everything felt weirdly numb. The light days had merged with the dark days until everything was just grey. No highs, no lows. Just – nothingness. At some point, you had stopped caring. All you wanted to do was sleep. And even though you were tired, you just couldn’t.

Living became more exhausting every single day.

A loud knock on the front door to your apartment pulled you out of your thoughts.

“(Y/N)? Are you home?”

Ransom’s voice from the other side of the door let your heart sink. He couldn’t come in here. Your apartment was a mess – dirty dishes piled up in the kitchen, piles over piles of stuff cluttered the living room, leaving no clear spaces on the floor.

“I know you’re there. Open up!”

Shit, you thought, holding your breath. Maybe if you kept quiet, he would go away. You could text him that you were … buying groceries. Yes, buying groceries! That was a believable excuse!

Go away, Ransom! Please!

You took a quick look down at yourself. You were still wearing the same old T-shirt and sweatpants you had found in one of the clothing piles two days ago. For some reason, you were only wearing one of your socks. Until now, you hadn’t even noticed the other one was missing.

“(Y/N)”, Ransom said again, his voice softer this time, “Are you okay?”

The question caught you off guard.

No, a tiny part of your soul cried out.

In fear of an actual sound leaving your body, you pressed a hand over your mouth. You tried to force all the emotions back down that threatened to come to the surface.

“I’m going to let myself in.”

In horror, you remembered the spare key that you had given him ages ago.

You heard the sound of the key turning in the lock and the front door being opened.

The light was switched on in the hallway and you could see Ransom stepping into your apartment.

You couldn’t move or say anything as you watched him making is way through the mess, slowly coming towards you.

He must be repulsed by you.

He had his shit to deal with and your problems were nothing compared to his.

You were a failure.

Not capable of doing anything.

Even if it was something as basic as keeping your apartment clean.

I am a failure. I am a failure. I am a failure.

Neither of you had said a single word ever since Ransom had entered the apartment. You just stood there in silence, looking up into his blue eyes, waiting for his reaction.

Suddenly, his eyes went soft.

“Do you need help, (Y/N)?”

It was as if he had whispered some kind of magic spell. A loud sob escaped your lips.

“Yes.”

Author’s Note:

Some people will probably consider this next part cheesy or cringy, but I feel like it needs to be said:

If you are struggling with your mental health right now, I want to let you know that it will get better.

Even if it may not seem like it now, it will. One of the most difficult parts of every journey towards better mental health is to recognise that there is a problem in the first place. Once you’re at this point, it is crucial, that you actively take the next step: get help. There is nothing wrong with needing help. Don’t be ashamed. We all need help sometimes. I know, that this can be scary. But I also know that you are so much stronger than you may believe right now.

You will get through this. Feel hugged. Len.

#ransom x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom thrombey x you #ransom drydale x you #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale masterlist #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom thrombey x y/n #ransom drysdale x fem!reader #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale angst #chris evans #chris evans characters #depression #trigger warning

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starryseung · 4 years

Note

can i request minho enemies to lovers ?

lee minho + smut

word count: 3.6k words

warnings; oral (both), enemies to lovers, dry humping, slight overstimulation

Lockers

“Fuck you.”

“Oh really? Well fuck you too!” you snap back at the taller male, hands closed in a tight fist.

It was one of the hundred fights you had with your high school rival. Lee Minho. Of course, each school had a unique pair, the kind who are always at each other’s throats, jabbing at each other with vulgar comments, and none of the other students know why. People assumed you both had a past, a never ending fight, a relationship gone wrong.

But in the grand case of you and Minho, there was no such misunderstanding. There was nothing in between you two, ever, and you were always at war with each other for no damn reason. And none of your friends or school mates knew why you two had fumes rising when your eyes met.

The school year had just begun a few weeks ago, and when the lockers were assigned, yours was coincidentally right next to his. Thus every morning started with gossips and tea spills throughout the school now. Just like how it was going to be, today as well.

Someone had vandalized his locker, drawing penises and other unexplainable things, and he obviously held you accountable. You had gone for a trip out to the nearby town with your parents, so hadn’t even come to school for the past week. How could you do something without even being there! You cussed at each other for a couple minutes, throwing crumpled paper and unpredictable forehead flicks at each other. That was until you slightly pushed his shoulder, which was enough to send him off-board.

“Don’t take advantage of the fact that I don’t hit girls—“

“Girls and boys, leave for classes right now!”, your headmistress’s voice boomed throughout the corridor, and all the students that had slowly gathered around the scene started to scurry away to their classes.

“Not so fast, Mr. Lee. You and y/n, my office. Now.” She gestures towards the end of the hall just as the two of you are about to leave.

You and Minho walk towards her office, giving each other death glares occasionally. Just as you reach the general waiting area, she walks past you two as if you two were completely invisible, and heads to her cabin.

“You two can sit and wait! She’ll call you in a while,” the chirpy lady squeaks out, motioning you to sit down.

You take a seat, bouncing your knee up and down. Considering there was place for two only, Minho decides to stand, as he wanted to be as far away from you. You realize and get up from your position, huffing and pointing to the now empty seat.You despised him, but you had a heart.

He sighs, slowly walking over to the couch and sitting down. After a few seconds, he sighs again, feeling bad for making you stand up.

“You don’t have to act like you’re kind. You can sit.”

Wait. Did he think you felt pity on him?

“No, it’s okay. I don’t need your orders. I’ll sit when I want to.”

So much for being kind.

“Fine! Stand.”

A few minutes pass by, and you sense the pain rising from your calves. Your ego was taking the best of you, and you huff and walk over to the congested couch, plopping down next to Minho. He grins, crossing his hands mentally celebrating his victory over you.

You start bouncing your knee again, waiting for the lady inside the cabin in front of you to call you in so that you don’t waste the whole day out here. Minho notices your moving state, and he clicks his tongue, placing a stiff hand on your thigh to stop it from moving and slowly vibrating the entire couch.

“Stop it. It’s annoying.”

You gulp and sit back, relaxing your tense muscles. Acting was hard. You couldn’t pretend that his recent action didn’t affect you. You straighten your t-shirt, fumbling around with the hem.

Just as you think your head was going to explode with all the awkward silence, the secretary walks in, all bright and smiling.

“Come in, kids. She’s calling you in.”

You and Minho get up and you let the taller male walk ahead of you. He pushes the door handle downwards and the old door creaks open, revealing your headmistress sitting on her leather chair. She motions you two to walk in, pointing at the chairs in front of her.

“So, tell me. What was happening out there.”

Minho takes a breath before starting off, but you beat him to it.

“Mrs. Ahn, you know I was out with my parents for the past week. I wasn’t in contact with anyone from the school either! And Minho, here, has the audacity to blame me for drawing… stuff, on his locker! And when I was defending myself, he pushed me—”

“She might’ve come early in the morning and done this! I promise, Mrs. Ahn, this is 100% done by this woman here. You can check today's camera footage!”

And thus, you, Minho, Mrs. Ahn and Mr. Song from the IT department were stuffed into the cabin, with the old man working his way through some files to check out that morning’s footage.

“Here it is,” he announces, hitting play.

The video, after a few skips, does reveal a tall masked man, searching for something, preferably Minho’s locker number, and just pulled out a spray can before vandalizing the school property. Mrs. Ahn gasps softly, and Minho frowns, and you immediately cross your hands, cocking your eyebrow at Minho.

“See? That’s not me.”

“It’s your brother!”

“I don’t even have a brother!—”

“Silence! Thank you Mr. Song, you may leave now. And you two. Stop bickering like small children. You are adults. Behave like it— make amends, and only then you’ll be allowed to leave.”

You both groan and get up, apologizing under your breaths before looking over at the old woman.

“That’s not enough. Give each other a hug.”

“Yeah, no, I think we’ve forgiven each other alre— oomph”

Minho grins, pulling you into a rough hug, and Mrs. Ahn laughs aloud. You push Minho away, fixing your clothes and bowing to your principal before leaving. Minho turns to the woman behind the desk, smiling warmly at her before walking away.

The rest of the day goes rather quickly (because you stayed at the office for most of it) and you call your friend to get her to drop you home, since your Dad must be exhausted from all the traveling last night.

“Hey fish head! This way!”

You groan, cursing under your breath before turning on your heels to look at Minho along with… Mrs. Ahn?

“Good Afternoon, Mrs. Ahn. I was just heading home. Anything important?”

“Yes, actually. Very important. For the past year, I’ve seen you and Minho fight endlessly, and it’s time to put this war to an end.”

You cock your head in confusion, not understanding what she had in mind.

“I want you and Minho to go out today. Just the two of you. You can think of it as a date, a study session, whatever you want. This fight has to end, and I think it’s time for us to intervene before it gets bigger, and… more violent.”

“I don’t think that’ll be something you’d have to worry about, Mrs. Ahn. Minho and I are doing just fine! You don’t have to interfere, really—”

“I wasn’t asking, y/n.”

She replies, displaying a toothy smile. She walks past you and Minho, who simply smirks at you, and she leaves before announcing, and you scowl.

“I need proof!”

Minho chuckles, walking past you as well before whispering, “Today at 6? You know where the Pearl Restaurant is, right?”

Your eyes go wide at the mention of the venue. This… dude, was going to take you to one of Korea’s top notch restaurants?

“Yeah, meet me at the café next to it. Bye!”

You stomp your feet in annoyance, walking away to your friend’s car waiting at the entrance.

—

You didn't believe yourself either, but yes; by the time it was 5, you had dressed up. and now you were lying in your bed, contemplating if you should actually go on the date and fulfill his ego, or, he could just photo-shop a picture of you and him at the restaurant and send it to Mrs. Ahn to fulfill her ego.

You decided to call Minho, if he would be accepting of your plan.

"Hey? Do you know how to use Photoshop?"

A laugh resonates from the other line, before Minho responds.

"I had that plan too, y/n. But I suddenly forgot how to start a computer at this point of time? I was going to ask you the same thing! But then I realized that you might not know what a computer is, in the first place," he laughs again, agitating you even more. "I'm surprised you had high hopes from someone you hate?"

You could hear the cockiness in his voice. You could practically imagine that he was grinning as if he had just K.O–ed you (which, no doubt, he had) and you could even hear the sass dripping out of your phone.

"Guess what! I'm freaking coming now, you asshole."

You hang up just as you finish hearing his laughter through the static line. You scream into your pillow and pray that this goes well.

Taking a cab to the cafe Minho had told you to come by, you walk across the street to see him through the glass enclosure of the small aesthetic cafe.

Minho had worn a black tee with some skinny jeans, his earphones plugged in as he tapped his foot lightly on the wooden ground. His pointy nose was hidden behind a black mask, and veiny his hands clasped his phone loosely as he waited for you.

You shudder, thinking about how you were slowly falling for him. You shake off the vague feeling before walking ahead, slowly opening the crimson coloured door. The bell above it jingles softly, and your lungs fill with the warm smell of coffee brewing in the four walls. Minho looks up at you, and he smirks behind his mask as he drinks in your beauty.

You had worn a baby blue sundress, with a silver bracelet your friend had gifted you a while ago. You smile at him and walk over to the table he was at, taking a seat on the opposite side of the booth. He pulls down his mask, enough for his plush pink lips to jut out.

"So, you came, huh?"

"Did you leave me any choice?"

He laughs and shakes his head, slyly reaching out his hand to place it on top of yours which was on the table. You cringe at the sudden wave of emotions in you. You didn't know how to react to his action. Do you not react? Or do you smile? Or wait, do you put another hand on top of his? Your mind was going haywire and was running a speed of a hundred miles a second. Thousands of thoughts run in your mind, and a few so dirty that your breathing hitched in your throat. Minho looks up at you, blank eyes staring back at you.

"You good?"

"Y–yeah. I'm great. Let's just click the picture and get over with this shit."

The waitress walks up to you two and places two menu cards between you. You pick up one, slowly flipping through the pages as your eyes scan for your favourite drink.

"Do you have any favorite kinks?"

"What?!"

"What. Do you have any favorite drinks? There's plenty here…" he trails off.

You shiver. Why was this happening! Did you start hallucinating? In front of someone you hate? Just so he could make fun of you later on?

"I think I need to use the restroom? Yeah I guess, I'll be back in a bit." you ramble, shuffling out of the seat to walk over to the washroom.

You walk inside the small washroom, quickly rushing to a sink and washing your face. You look at yourself in the mirror, fixing up your hair and breathing in and out a few times. You mentally prep yourself up for whatever you had to face outside.

After a few minutes of catching your breath and creepily talking to yourself, you walk out. But when you look up, Minho wasn't there in his seat anymore. Neither was his phone, or whatever else he was carrying with him. You look around, and your eyes fall outside the cafe, and you stare as Minho has his hands behind his back, looking around at the streets. Why was he out? You walk out of the small cafe, bowing to the waiter who held the door open for you.

"Hey! What are you doing here?"

"The coffee was fucking disgusting. Let's go somewhere else."

"Are we seriously continuing this? Just take a picture so we can go back to hating each other," you whine out of annoyance, stomping your feet on the concrete sidewalk.

"Let's go to your place then."

"It's not really clean…" you say with a shrug as you remember the mess your roommate had made before leaving the apartment for the night.

"It's okay! I bet my house is worse."

—

"Okay I take that back. Your house is a dumpster."

"Hey!"

You and Minho reached your apartment, and you knew he was going to day something snarky to piss you off. You sigh and pull him inside the house. You didn't want to deal with another mom–like figure again.

“You can sit, I’ll get something for you.”

“No it’s good I don’t need anything. That coffee made me lose my appetite for the next decade.”

You laugh, placing down your purse on the shelf before walking Minho to your room. Your roommate had strictly warned you to not bring boys to the dorm, and when she was the first one to break the rule, she covered it up by saying they shouldn’t be in the living room or whatever.

Minho plops himself on the single couch, looking around in your room. He looks at you going into the bathroom— probably to change —and uses this moment to check out your room.

You leave the bathroom door half open, since the strong stench of fish cooked by your neighbors filled the small space. You weren’t doing any personal business anyways, just opening the little-too-tight messy bun and combing through your locks for the usual bedtime.

Minho found your bed more comfortable than the rough couch, so he decided to settle himself on it, looking at the small photo frames with pictures of you with your friends and family in them. He hears a thud from your side, looking over in delight if you’ve finally messed something. Instead, he was met with your petite frame picking up the wooden brush you had dropped, resuming to combing through your hair. He wasn’t disappointed, though.

You weren’t just a pretty face to him. You had a beautiful soul. He definitely thought you were cute, and he had fallen for you since day one. And now your actions were just fueling his desire. He sighs, looking down when your eyes meet his through the mirror. You finish off your routine and step out, a soft smile dancing on your lips as you walk over to Minho. You hop onto the bed, crossing your legs and facing him.

“So uhh… who's your favourite artist?”

“Can I kiss you?” Minho asks. His cheeks flush red in embarrassment when you ask something completely unrelated to his request.

“Um, I think so? Yeah. Yes you ca—”

Minho stops you midway by pushing his pink lips onto your chapped ones, grinning cheekily. You can hear the fireworks bursting in your insides, and you try your hardest to stop yourself from smiling wide into the kiss. Minho gently places a hand on your thigh, resting it there until you take initiative and slowly pull away.

He looks at you with soft but dark eyes, lips red and wet from the kiss. You look back at him hungrily, this time leaning over and kissing him. The second time was way better— more confident, lustful, rough, passionate. You coil your arms around his neck, moving deeper and ahead onto his lap. You sit above him straddling him, while he holds you down in place with a strong grip on your waist.

You moan softly when he bucks his hips, slightly grinding into you. He breaks the kiss and falls back on the pillow with hooded eyes and a smirk, having you seated in his lap. You quickly shuffle and pop open his jeans, dragging them down steadily. He slightly sits back up and pulls you into a heated kiss, moving his lips in sync with yours.

You groan when he starts running his hand down your back, unzipping the blue dress. When you’re finally free out of the garment, you resume grinding down on the male as he throws his head back on the pillow, incoherent profanities and moans spilling out his lips. You feel impatience bubbling in you and you pull down the material off of him.

“Wait.”

You look up at him, confusion and curiosity building up in you. He picks you up by the waist and places you down on your back next to him, as he climbs up above you. He latches his lips on your neck, sucking various spots and watching in satisfaction as the purples and reds bloom on the skin. He kisses down your form, pecking your chest, to your abdomen and finally reaches your core.

He licks a tight strip up from your folds to your clit, and you whine at the tease. He smirks, gliding his fingers up and down your cunt. You arch your back reflexively, gripping the sheets under you tightly. Minho looks at you through drowsy eyes, smirking as he feels you crumbling under him.

He prods one finger at your entrance, slowly pushing it deeper and deeper. You moan louder at the intense feeling burning in your core, and Minho starts thrusting his digits in and out of your hole. You feel the pressure building up in you, and just then he adds two more fingers and curls them in you. It was as if an invisible force was tearing you apart, pleasure eating you up.

He hisses as he pumps his fingers in you at an unbelievable pace, reaching his other hand to your breasts and toying with your nipples. You dig your nails into the sheets beneath you, bringing the other hand over Minho’s which played with your boobs.

The burning feeling in your abdomen nothing but rises, and you feel yourself losing your mind as you fall closer and closer to your orgasm. You feel a soft sensation pressed against your clit, and your eyes flutter open as you look at Minho licking and kissing your clit as he humps the bed, driving you insane. He grazes his teeth above your clit, and you let yourself lose, the knot inside you untying. Your juices escape you and Minho licks and laps them up like he was a man starved.

You whine at the overstimulation, and he slowly pulls his fingers out. He sits up as you catch your breath, and sits at the edge of the bed. You crawl down and position yourself between his feet, placing your palms above his thighs. You lick his hard shaft from bottom to top, one hand slowly pumping his base. He sighs deeply, dropping his head down while biting his lip.

You lick his tip one last time, before hollowing your mouth and going down on him. You take him in one go, using your hands for what wasn't going to fit. His tip brushes the back of your throat, and you press your tongue flat against his cock.

He grunts at your pace, holding a fistful of your hair before thrusting harshly in your mouth. Tears spring in your eyes as you take him whole, never leaving his cock void of your touch. He bucks his hips up, loosening his tight grip on your scalp, as you feel his shaft swell. You slide up with a pop, using your hand instead, and pumping him at a quick pace.

You use your other hand to press your fingers on his slit, smothering the pre-cum all over the tip. The sensations send him overboard, and before you know it, he moans and groans as his high washes over him, liquids covering your hand and wrists.

He catches his own breath, as you rush over to your nightstand to grab a couple of wet wipes. You clean up your hands, walking back over to him and handing some to do his business. He swabs off the sweat and struts lazily to the washroom, washing up so that he could leave. You look at him, upset that he was going.

"You're going?"

"You want me to stay?"

"Me? Want you to stay? Pfft yeah right."

You both laugh awkwardly, as he starts getting dressed up.

"No actually, uhh my roommate is a bitch so she apparently doesn't want guys around and stuff so… yeah. I mean I totally wouldn't mind, you know."

"Yeah that's alright, my roommate must be waiting for me. I told him I'd be up to play a game or two."

"Sure. See you."

He grins back, not responding as he grabs his keys and phone to head back home. Once you both bid your farewells, you rush to your room smiling like a madman, throwing yourself onto the bed. You look up dreamily, hiding your face in your hands as you recollect what you had just done. Two dings on your phone wake you up from your daze, and you reach out to check who the messages were from.

M*nhoe: Mrs. Ahn is my aunt

M*nhoe: haha loser.

—

a/n; thank you guys for the support hehe🤧 Also have no reason for why this took me like 300 years to write~ I’ll be posting more frequently now since my school hours have been reduced :)

#kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop smut #kpop #stray kids #stray kids lee know smut #stray kids lee know #stray kids minho au #stray kids minho smut #stray kids minho #stray kids smut #lee minho smut #skz #bang chan smut #skzsmutnet #smut #skz smut #mia.moon

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thefemalejamespotter · 3 years

Text

The ACTUAL Epilogue

I myself, like many other people have a lot of issues and opinions about the HP Epilogue, and because JK Rowlings decided to be a piece of human crap, I’m going to share what I think the Epilogue was/should’ve been.

Obviously, you don’t have to agree but this is what I personally think.

Also, this was partially inspired by Castle On The Hill by Ed Sheeran for no reason except it seem to fit my opinion. Kay, let’s do it.

The Epilogue would only be 10 years later, 19 is just too much.

I think that Luna would move down to the coast, somewhere like Cornwall or Devon; it would be a great escape for her and I’m sorry but can we just imagine Luna sitting by the coast with a little hair braiding stall or something? It’s adorable. I’m sure she could probably end up finding a job to do with magical creatures in the sea, which we all know she would be amazing at.

Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione are living in the busy streets of London, with their daughter Rose and they’re pretty much the same as Canon; Hermione works in the ministry and Ron’s at the joke shop with George. I have a lot of opinions about Ron and Hermione’s relationship- I mean, I love it don’t get me wrong- but I think that they often have a lot of very heated arguments, especially about things such as Hermione’s balance between work and home considering it’s a lot more lenient to the work side of things. I think after a few years into their relationship they’d also argue about stuff like kids and marriage; something Ron really wanted but Hermione was in no rush for. I think they would have one kid (Rose) who they’d put their everything into (does that make sense? I dunno.) and I’m sorry Hugo, you’ve been cut off.

Harry and Ginny are married, with their kids James Sirius Potter, Arthur Frederick Potter and Ruby Lily Potter. Harry suffers from a lot of PTSD, and Ginny convinced him to go to a muggle therapist. Ginny didn’t just give up her career to settle down and have kids, she’s an ace quidditch player still going at it as a mum. Harry works as a DADA professor at Hogwarts because there is NO WAY that after fighting in a war that he’d want to go straight back into it. He’s not the most organised teacher though- he’s often late to lessons and pretends he doesn’t believe in homework, which is true… but it’s also because of the fact that he always forgets about it. Draco Malfoy also comes into the ties here, NOT I repeat NOT in any romantic way, but that when Harry very first graduated Hogwarts he decided he would be an arour for a few years and something came up in a case and he needed a favor. Who did he have to ask for that favor? Draco Malfoy. It started as a very awkward and slightly messed up conversation, but they soon managed to you know… become friends and form a decent bond.

On the subject of Malfoy, he was married to Astoria Greengrass and they had a kid (Scorpius) but it was an arranged marriage and neither of them wanted it. They eventually told their parents and got a divorce. I like to imagine that Draco remarried but I’ve not a clue who too.

Neville Longbottom, the sweetheart who deserves the world… has not exactly been given the world. He was with Hannah Abott and they had two kids- Frankie and Remus, named after the best teacher they ever had and Neville’s dad, despite Frankie being a girl. (why not, it’s cute?) Anyway, Hannah erm… How do I say this? Well, I just do don't I- she left them. It was very sad, blah, blah- I’m not writing angst here! Neville had been working at Hogwarts, but the kids weren’t there yet meaning he had to quit so he could look after the kids. Then, one day he decided that he would take the kids on holiday to Cornwall- why? Oh, no reason you know… just a holiday, definitely not looking for someone special.

Oh? Oh, would you look at that! It’s Luna Lovegood, what a coincidence! Luna and Neville reconnect, whatever you wanna call it and he tells her about how he had to quit Hogwarts, and all the rest of it, when Luna gets the idea that she should come back to Hogsmeade with him. Why not? He could get his job back and she could look after the kids, it would be great; she'd been looking for an excuse to go back home and this would be amazing!

To cut an already long story short, they fall in love, horary! Luna ends up getting a job at Hogwarts helping Hagrid out with Care of Magical Creatures.

Seamus Figgan and Dean Figgan. Boom, that’s all that needs to be said because they’re 100000% married. (Also, Seamus is Potions teacher because I like imagining the anocy that would happen in Hogwarts if Seamus, Luna, Harry and Nev all worked there.)

I think the Weasley family is pretty accurate for where they’d been in ten years time, apart from Percy, because he is GAY for Oliver Wood, and nobody can change my mind. I do think it’s a bit messed up that Angelina and George hooked up, considering she dated Fred, so I propose that we change canon and just say George took her to the Yule Ball. Sorry Fred.

And my final point is- REMUS BLOODY LUPIN IS ALIVE WITH HIS WIFE NYMPHDORA TONKS AND THEY ARE HAPPY WITH THEIR SON. HE SHOULD'VE BEEN WITH HIS BOYFRIEND SIRIUS, BUT I’LL SETTLE FOR TONKS!

Hope you enjoyed this freaking essay I wrote on what actually happened after Hogwarts to Harry & co.

#harry potter #harry potter headcanon #the epilogue #didn't mean to ramble on like this #oh well #hope you liked it #harry potter next generation #next gen #ginny weasley #neville longbottom #luna lovegood #hermione granger #ron wealsey #hinny #romione #nuna #canon ship

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gayroytheory · 3 years

Note

im sorry i don't want to turn this blog into an fma 03 rant blog but i saw you all talking about winry and i couldn't stop myself bc i really like her. ok so i genuinely hate how fma 03 fans claim that ed doesn't treat her well in mangahood and that he's better to her in 2003 when it's literally the excat opposite? in both versions at the beginning he tries to push her away and keep secrets from her for the sake of her safety and because he doesn't want to make her sad which is understandable despite it being a bad thing considering ed's over protective nature and his guilt complex. but the thing is, in mangahood, after learning that this only makes her more frustrated and angrier with him because no one wants to be kept in the dark, ed tries to become more honest with her. he asks for her input after he came back from xerxes, in the manga he gets so mad at himself when winry found out abt hughes' death and he feels bad for telling her abt it when he first learned the news. he tells her about how the military are using her as a hostage, and he trusts her and doesn't try to stop her when she plans the whole escape plan with scar. he goes through this whole arc and learns to not push her away and stop hiding things from her (at least most of the time). when he told her to leave the country she got upset with him bc it seemed like he didn't learn his lesson and that he wants to push her away again but he only did that because he's worried that she might die if he loses to father. in 03, he doesn't ask winry for her input at all, nor does he care. the only time he asked her was when al was going through his identity crisis (i do like that ed was the one who talked to al in 03 tho), winry literally tags along for the rest of their journey, they go to dublith and i forgot where else and YET they don't bother to explain anything to her at all? she's just tagging along without understanding what the hell is going on, and she literally doesn't do anything to move the plot. the only reason the writers made her tag along was to make her talk to ishvallans and find out that mustang killed her parents and that's it. and then she meets sheska and they go on this little journey that contributes nothing to the plot, and winry sees a monster who looks exactly like her best friends' fucking mom whom they sacrificed their fucking bodies to bring back and she recognizes and then forgets about it and doesn't think about telling ed about it? also in ed and winry's last encounter, the one where he dyes his hair the ugliest shade of green ever, he doesn't even tell her what he's planning to do. at least in mangahood, ed told her that the country is in danger. yeah he didn't tell her all the details, but i don't think it would makena difference bc winry is not interested in alchemy. OH also about her crying a lot, there's this scene in fma 03 where ed and al and winry were staying in this inn, and i forgot the exact details but winry just fell on her knees and started crying and told him that she wants to improve at automail just to help him carry on in his journey? it felts really weird to me bc it just happened after the blue. in mangahood something similar happened, but it was after finding out about the pocket watch and the memories of the brothers burning down their home just to carry on was what made her emotional and it's what inspired her to move forward to and become a great automail engineer. i love how they're both inspiring each other which i don't really see in 03. anyway this got so long i'm so sorry. i just needed someone to share this with and i agree with a lot of your opinions concerning fma. have a good day!

i love all of this, thank you for this good winry discussion. i dont have a lot to say because its very late here but you are right

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Gimme Love, 2/9 (Miz Cracker/Blair St Clair) - Grinder

AN: Heyo, yall! Just hope yall are enjoying this fic so far. I worked really hard on it, but so proud. So many times I just wanted to quit it. But I stuck it out!

Major TW for this chapter: Child abuse mentions // mental breakdown // Anxiety // Dementia mentions

2020

I flinched, feeling a hand lightly slap my foot twice. "Wake up, Princess."

I rolled over slightly, blinking as if to clear my vision. Jujubee looked as if she had been awake for hours, looking fresh as fuck in her dressing gown. She must have had a shower hours before because, despite the dry hair, I could smell the mango and papaya soap. Fuck, it smelt so good.

Then there was me; hair wrecked, makeup long expired, body smelling of that typical hangover smell. Like a hospital, except unclean.

I whined like a child, rolled back over on my stomach and buried my face hoping it would stop my head from pounding.

"Nope. Not happened." Jujubee sat down on the bed and shook me.

"What time is it?" I asked with my face still smushed into the pillow.

"It's 2PM." She answered.

That's what got me up. I threw the covers back and went to stand. "Fuck!"

Jujubee grabbed my hand and pulled me back down. "Relax. It's our day off, remember?"

I whined even more, curling up with my head in her lap.

"Not that it makes a difference considering you're always late anyway," Jujubee added as she stroked my unbrushed hair.

"Shut up. I'm the boss. I can do what I want." I mumbled.

"Ah, Brianna Caldwell, you never change." Jujubee quipped. "Only follows the rules whenever it suits her, bosses everyone around - -"

"I do not, you whore. And can you please not speak to me so loud right now?" I pulled myself up and tousled my hair. "I need some shades or something."

I always needed shades when I was hungover, so Jujubee was already prepared. She pulled them from her pocket and handed them over. "Shade up, baby girl."

Life was already so much better with them on.

"But back to the topic at hand, though. Don't you remember the chess boys from high school?" Jujubee spoke a bit quieter now. "You literally bossed them around."

"They let me boss them around 'cause they wanted to sleep with me, Jujubee," I replied, reaching for my phone.

"And, you bossed me around too." Jujubee raised her brows.

"Mmmm, I don't remember that." I hummed, feeling pretty much over the conversation.

It took Jujubee an hour to convince me to get out of bed and clean myself up. After finally getting showered and dressed, we were out of the apartment and already heading to Starbucks.

I could have made my own coffee, but that required effort. And that I wasn't willing to give that day.

We were sitting at a booth in the back, with minimal effort in trying to go incognito. But this was a regular hang out for us. There was no need to worry about our names being shouted out. The baristas eventually learned to just bring our orders to us. It made Jujubee feel bad, but I didn't mind.

The barista, Kyle, came over and put our drinks down on the table.

"I deserve this. I really, really deserve this." I said, already taking a sip of my coffee.

"Congrats on last night. The boss said if you both need a refill, just let me know." Kyle winked. God bless Kyle. "So, When's the launch day?"

"Kyle, as charming as you are, you'll just have to wait like everybody else." I tried my best to beam a smile.

"Alright. Enjoy, ladies." And Kyle walked away.

Jujubee let her eyes follow for a moment longer. I know she was literally staring at nothing in particular, but I decided to have a bit of fun. "Go ask him out, Juju."

"Girl, you ask him out," Jujubee smirked. "I'm happy enough being a crazy cat lady. I don't need no man."

I knew it was a joke. Jujubee wasn't the type to encourage me to find someone. It was like she knew how it could bother me.

Despite liking the single life, I kind of did like the sound of being with someone. Maybe it was the fear of the past that stopped me from pursuing a relationship. I had a few girlfriends in the past. But they hadn't lasted long. I was afraid they would have somehow found out about my past self. Because, once upon a time, nobody would've even dared think of me as an attractive, promiscuous, alluring, single female.

But now that I had the glow-up of the century, dyed my hair blonde, I had quite a lot of admirers. It only really started to occur when NASA began sponsoring the project, bringing more traction.

My phone started ringing, but I paid no heed.

Jujubee, however, almost dropped her drink.

"Girl, why is Ed Sheeran calling you?" Jujubee raised a brow.

And as soon as the name met my ears, I was reminded of the night before. "Oh, God." I held my head in my hands.

"What did you do?" Jujubee was already groaning.

"I fucked up," I answered.

"You didn't have a quicky with him or something, right?" Jujubee questioned further.

I lifted my head, looking at her with squinted eyes. "What? No. Ew. Juju." I sipped my coffee before bearing the news. "OK, so...I don't know why I did it, maybe 'cause I'm a mess when I'm drunk, but I…" I lowered my tone, "kinda offered him the chance to be the first person to go into the other world."

"What?? I thought we were gonna do that!" Jujubee was freaking out.

"I know. I fucked up."

"Well, call him back."

"And, tell him what? 'Sorry, Ed. Jk'?"

Jujubee's forehead was in her hands, "I was really excited." She whined.

As I said before, this meant a lot to us. We hadn't discussed it with the team yet, but Jujubee and I had privately planned that we'd be first to enter the other world. So you could understand this was incredibly disappointing for her.

"OK. How about this? Ed will go in for 5 minutes. After that, we bring him back to Earth. And then we fly off by ourselves?" I suggested.

"I was looking forward to the pink sky. And the flying horses. And the…"

Jujubee went on a ramble as my phone began to ring again. I picked it up, letting it ring for a few seconds before declining Ed Sheeran's call.

I checked if there were any texts from him. Nada. But there was one message that caught my attention. The memory of reading it the previous night came flooding back.

Jujubee was still rambling, but I put my phone down and leaned across the table slightly. "Juju, do you remember Blair St Clair?"

Jujubee's expression changed instantaneously. "Girl, of course, I do. You were in love with her for years."

"Oh my God, can you whisper, please?" I questioned, the desperation in my voice very much apparent.

"Brianna, she's back in Ohio. We're in New York. I don't think anyone's gonna go and tell."

"You never know," I briefly looked behind me for fear that somehow the world decided to shit on my luck and make her appear in the booth behind me.

"Girl, chill out. And yes, I do remember her." Jujubee replied, "you know something that always stuck with me? Please don't ask why, but I'll never forget the day you told me you were in love with her. You came out to me that day too."

-_-_-_-

1995

"Juju, I gotta tell you something," I said, throwing my doll to the side of the fort. If I didn't tell her the truth now, I never would.

"What is it?" Jujubee sounded scared.

I crossed my legs in a pretzel shape, straightened my back and declared, "Juju, I like girls. And Blair St Clair is the girl I'm in love with."

I was expecting amazement, awe, shock. But Jujubee just seemed confused.

"What? How is that possible?" She asked.

"You promise you can keep a secret?" I offered my pinky.

Jujubee joined hers with mine. "Of course I can."

"OK." Our fingers remained twisted around each other. "Well, I saw two ladies in the mall kissing. And my Mommy told me girls can like girls. And I had an a-piffa-tree. The reason I like Blair so much is because I'm in love with her!"

"Brie-Brie, you need to slow down." Jujubee put her hand up. "If girls can like girls, then how come we never see girls kissing girls? It's always boys and girls."

"I don't know."

"Have you ever kissed a girl?"

"Nope."

"Then, how are you sure?"

"I don't know. You ever get that weird feeling inside that tells you that you're right? I can feel it. I know I'm not lying."

"Wooow." Jujubee looked away briefly. "Does that mean you like me?"

"I don't know. You're my friend, Juju." I shrugged. "I mean, maybe we should kiss just to figure it out."

Juju looked like she was contemplating this for a moment before nodding her head and sitting up. "OK!"

I didn't even hesitate. Instead, I moved closer and gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

"Ew!" We both pulled away.

We both agreed to never do that again, nor ever speak of it.

As if nothing had happened, we continued on playing with our dolls for another hour before the rain came out.

I walked Jujubee home, feeling very much like 'the big girl' being all responsible.

And in walking back to my own place, wrapping my arms around myself, I saw Blair - walking alone, drenched from head to toe.

"Blair!" I ran towards her.

She turned to look at me, her face scrunched up, trying to see through the downpour.

Call it instinct, but I knew something was up, just from how she was looking at me. I put my hands on her shoulders. "What's wrong?? Are you OK?"

"I'm lost. I-I'm trying to find my way home." She said quietly.

"What. How did you - -" I stopped myself from talking any further. Instead, I took Blair by the hand and pulled her towards the bus shelter off to the side of the road.

We both sat down when we got inside. She was shaking, close to catching a cold in the awful weather. Not to mention she had no jacket on. So I pulled my arm out of its sleeve and draped half of the coat over her.

"What happened to your coat?" I asked

"I didn't bring it." She replied.

"Why not? It's cold. You're going to get sick."

"I'm sorry. I just...ran."

I was silent for a moment. Then, "What do you mean?"

She was also silent for a moment, her blue eyes drifting to the ground. "Brianna...is it normal for Daddies to shout real loud all the time? Do they smash things a lot?"

No. It was not expected. I may not have had a Father figure in my life, but I knew well enough. "Blair, what happened?"

Blair clenched her fist around the jacket. "My Daddy...he…"

Despite her timid voice trailing off, I understood. She didn't even need to say it. "Do you have somewhere to go?"

She lifted her eyes to me, "I need to get home. I just ran as fast as I could. And somehow ended up here. I don't know my way back."

"I don't think you should go back," I admitted.

"I have to. Or he'll be even more mad."

I was wracking my brain. There was no way I could let her go back. "OK. Is there somewhere you can stay for a while? Somewhere close?"

"No." Blair shook her head. "Wait. Yeah. My Granny lives somewhere around here." She looked at me with optimism in her eyes.

"That's great! I know this place like the back of my hand. I bet I can find it in a few seconds."

After sitting for 10 more minutes, the rain was starting to settle, so Blair gave me the address, and off we went. I carried her bag for her. She was probably exhausted from all the walking.

All the while, I just listened as she talked about many things - Madonna, her Princess Belle doll, how Jade from school actually picked her nose when no one was looking. So many different topics. And I didn't speak a word. I guess I was just so...astonished. Here I was, walking along in a light rainstorm, hanging out with the prettiest girl in my class. How was this possible? Was this real life?

"You've been really quiet." Blair pointed out.

"Yeah, I just can't believe you're talking to me. What the fuck?" Yes, I said that.

Blair laughed at my potty mouth. "Yeah, why wouldn't I?"

I shrugged. "Well, I don't know. Maybe 'cause no one likes me."

Blair stopped in her tracks for a moment. "I like you."

I stopped, spun around, and looked at her with wide eyes. There was no way I heard her say those words. No fucking way.

"Come on. I know where we are now. Granny's house is around the corner." Blair began to move again.

But the butterflies in my stomach were going wild. I felt warm and wanted to just hug her. But I also didn't want to alarm her. Baby steps, Brianna.

I walked Blair to the house. Her Granny came to the door and was obviously quite confused. And Blair began to cry again.

I wanted to turn and run, feeling very out of place. But Blair grabbed me before I could leave and pulled me into a hug. She pressed her tear-stained face against my shoulder and whispered, "Thank you, Brie."

"I gotta go."

I pulled out of the hug and ran as fast I could. I don't know if I left her standing there confused or if she just knew by then it was just a me thing to be awkward.

But my mind was racing; Blair liked me. I knew not in the same way as I liked her. But, surely, that meant we could be friends.

Oh, how naive I was.

A few weeks later, it was the beginning of Summer. Mom took me to the park, and there was Blair with her friends.

I ran across the grass to the picnic blanket they were all sitting at.

"Blair!" I called excitedly. I practically threw myself down next to her, giving her a tight hug.

"Ew." Jade laughed.

"Shut up, Jade." Blair snapped.

"Are you friends with the freak now or something?" Carmen questioned, inching away from me.

"I'm not a freak!" I shouted.

"Uh, yeah, you are," Serena added. "We don't want freaks in our friend group. Go on. Get lost."

"Girls - -" Blair tried.

"You wanna join her?" Jade pointed her gaze at Blair, her face scrunched up in disgust.

I was waiting for it; The big 'fuck you' as Blair stood up, took my hand and walked away.

But she remained seated. Her eyes trailed down to the ground. I tried shaking her shoulder.

"Blair?" I spoke quietly.

She didn't say a word. It was as if she had turned to stone.

My body felt cold.

"See? She doesn't like ugly people like you. No one does." Jade smirked.

I remember the moment being more intense than it actually was. Because in a matter of seconds, the girls were screaming as I began to punch Jade in her bitchy face. I couldn't punch for shit. But if it left a bruise, I was happy.

"Brianna!" I heard my Mom's voice. Her dark arms wrapped around me, pulling me away from the now crying Jade. "We are going home right now." Mom threatened. But I didn't care.

From being dragged away from the fight scene all the way until we got home, I screamed.

Mom screamed back for a while when we were in the car. But you can't fight fire with fire. So she stopped when we pulled up.

I got in, I beat the fuck out of every object that came into my line of vision. And my shouting never stopped.

"No one wants you, ugly freak!" I smashed a vase. "Worthless piece of trash!"

Mom had been chasing me all over the house, trying to calm me down. But this wasn't like any tantrum I had ever had, and as Mom had no idea what was actually going on, she had no idea what to do.

She eventually scooped me up in her arms and held me tight as she sat on the ground. I screamed as I tried to fight off her grasp, downing out all her hushed whispers. "I got you, Baby. I got you. Mommy's here."

My screams did go on for another while, but as soon as they ended, all I could say to Mom was, "I should give up. Blair will never be my friend. I'm too ugly."

Mom stood me up, so she knew I was looking directly into her eyes. She pointed a finger in my face and spoke with a cracked but stern tone. "Don't say that. Never ever say that. You are so beautiful, and no one has the right to tell you that you're not. I want you to go look in the mirror, really, really look at yourself, Brianna. And I want you to see how pretty you are. Look at your hair, your brown eyes, your freckles. You are just as pretty as everyone else, girl. You are not ugly."

I squeezed my fists, feeling the hard lump in my throat. "Then why did my Mommy and Daddy give me away?"

Mom was stunned for a moment. She took my hand. "Baby, that had nothing to do with how you look. They…" she paused, trying to find the right words to use, "they just…" another pause, "look, I'll tell you when you're older. But I promise you are not ugly."

I couldn't hold on anymore. I let out a pained cry and immediately threw myself into her arms and buried my face in her shoulder.

-_-_-_-

2020

That was my first major emotional breakdown, marking the beginning of many more to come. But, unfortunately, Mom didn't want to immediately get me help. She had a feeling it would upset me further. And she was right.

Just as I had begun middle school, I had another huge episode. That was it. There had been too many episodes throughout those years.

You can try covering a crack in the wall with a pretty picture, but the problem would never go away, would it?

I couldn't stand therapy. Why was I the one to work on my emotions when I only felt the way I did because kids were assholes? Where were all the breathing exercises and meditation sessions to make them not be dicks?

But as much as I hated it, the older I got, I opened my eyes. What I hated the most was seeing the pain I was putting Mom through. So I really tried hard not to freak out.

I didn't want to upset Mom anymore. She really did her best. And to this day, I wouldn't change her for the world.

"We're here."

I was brought out of my thoughts as the cab pulled over. I had been so gone, just sitting in the backseat, staring at the magenta glass vase in my hands.

"Keep the change," I replied, handing the driver the money and thanking him as I got out.

He took my suitcase from the trunk and left it by my side. And with a goodbye, he drove off.

Standing at the bottom of the lawn, I looked at the house. Fuck, once upon a time, I wouldn't have been so in love with its appearance. I had no idea what my Mom was going for with the multiple colours. The outside was painted pastel yellow with a sky blue door and pink frame. Then there were the various flowerpots stuck onto the wall next to the door. All different colours; pink, green, orange or blue.

OK, I lied; as a kid, I fucking loved our house. Everyone else's was boring. But when high school rolled around, people would whisper how I was "the weird hippie chick from the rainbow crack house". So, you can understand why it quickly became an eyesore for me.

I knocked on the front door, feeling the excitement bubble within me. I had been so busy with the project, it was a few months since I last saw her in person. I glanced at the vase in my hand, the perfect Birthday gift. It was perfect because I got her a new one every year. Because I never got over the guilt from smashing her favourite vase as a child. This act was to make a point - to show that no matter how much I apologised, I was always sorry, and would always be.

I knocked again. There was only a barking behind the door. Good to know someone was in.

I still had my own key. No point in standing outside all day. I made my own way in, knowing I could just surprise her later.

"Hi, baby!" I spoke in a hushed tone as Piggie started to jump around excitedly. Fuck, I missed him so much.

I closed the door and knelt down next to the pug, bringing him into a hug and kissing him on the head. "You good boy," I said in between kisses, "Let's get you some food."

Standing back up, I made my way to the kitchen, and Piggie was only happy to follow. I still remembered where his food was kept, so I poured him a bowl. Then, while he was distracted, I took my suitcase up the stairs and into my old bedroom.

Fuck, there was always something so surreal about walking into it. I hadn't lived at home since before I went to college. From that moment on, Jujubee and I always had our own places. And now, I had my apartment in New York.

Meaning, the last time I had redecorated was years before my glow up (in personality and looks). The walls were pink, I remember them being a pretty pastel tone, but they looked duller now. Above my bed, the wall was littered with posters, writing and photos. I made eye contact with Reese Witherspoon on the Legally Blonde poster, remembering how I always wanted to be like her. Funny how I kind of did achieve that.

I realised I was just standing in the doorway, just staring. So, I sat the suitcase against my desk and went to lie down. I smirked as I found all 5'5" of my whole being still fit into it.

I took out my phone and snapped a picture of myself to Jujubee, the caption reading 'Hey, babe, my parents are out?￰ 😉😉 come over?'.

While waiting for her reply, I changed my pencil skirt and blouse, choosing to wear leggings and a tank instead. Suddenly, I felt 10 years younger.

An hour passed, and Mom was still nowhere to be seen.

"Maybe she's at work. Does she have a job?" Jujubee asked me through the phone.

"I... don't know, Juju," I murmured, my attention not really on the question but on the contents of the fridge.

There was a punnet of strawberries. I helped myself to a few.

"When was the last time you spoke to her? Seriously, Brie, I'm getting so nervous." Jujubee sounded concerned. I knew her mind was thinking of the worst. And oddly enough, I found it to be entertaining.

"A few months back, actually," I smirked. "She's been real quiet, to be honest." Piggie was at my feet, looking for one of the juicy strawberries. I shook my head at him.

"Oh God, no. Did you check every room? Talk to the neighbours?"

"Oh, fuck! Juju. My God, there's a head in the fridge!" I feigned terror.

"Brianna!"

"Relax. I'm fucking with you. I spoke to her last night." I took one more strawberry. Biting into it, the juice dripped down my fingers and onto the ground. Piggie was beyond happy now, licking it up. I let him be and made my way out of the kitchen.

"That's not funny, Brianna. Don't joke about that. I thought she was missing or...worse."

"Fair enough. Sorry, girl. Anyway, how's work today?" I walked into the living room and sat on the couch.

"Good, good. Ed Sheeran's team finally got in touch," Jujubee said with a hint of disdain.

I held my forehead in one hand, wanting to punch myself for even speaking to him the week before.

I groaned, "See, this is why I should stop drinking."

"Well, to be fair, you don't drink as much as you did back in college. But when you do, you go hard."

Jujubee continued talking, lecturing me about my life choices when I moved my foot and felt it touch something under the couch. It startled me at first, but I pulled out the item.

A slipper. Grandpa's slipper. Sitting back on the couch again, letting my eyes just stare at it. "Hey, Juju. I'm gonna go."

There was a sigh on the other end. "Fine. Not like I was talking about anything important or whatever."

"Sorry," I said quietly.

"Don't worry. I still love you, whore." She said.

"Of course you do."

I made a nasty kissing sound through the phone. She was grossed out, of course, and hung up. I chuckled for a moment and put my phone away.

Piggie came into the room and jumped up on the sofa next to me. I began to pet him, my eyes now back on the shoe.

Grandpa wore his slippers more than he wore regular shoes. Every time he found out Mom had put them in the wash, he would be furious. I would always listen to him ranting and wonder why men were gross. But I'd also laugh at how he threw his hands up in the air in frustration.

There was one time, in particular. He had gotten mad for the same reason. He huffed and came into the living room, sitting down on the couch, in the very seat I currently was sitting. He was shaking his head, just looking at the TV.

I shuffled closer to him and offered a few potato chips. His frown was immediately reversed. His smile had never seemed brighter. He took a few chips and asked with a full mouth, "Hey, kiddo. Aren't you late for school?"

It was 2PM. On a Saturday.

My smile was beginning to fade, my eyes still focused on the slipper. I could feel it - a familiar twisting feeling from somewhere within my stomach, the oxygen in my lungs seeming to fail me, a tremble taking my hands over.

And then, Piggie licking my arm.

I flinched slightly as I was brought back to the present. I smiled, petting Piggie. "Where would I be without you, baby?"

Piggie didn't answer, of course. Instead, he just licked my hand, which was enough for me to chill out.

I put Grandpa's shoe back under the couch, now inspired to search more of the house. But before I got off the couch, I checked my phone. Jujubee had Snapchatted me.

Clicking into it, I froze for a moment. She was in her bathroom, the shower running behind her. I wanted to say she was the main element to the picture, cocking her head to the side, pouting her lips and raising a brow. Despite the fact Jujubee never sent me pictures like this, it wasn't the first time I had seen her in her lingerie, though. But, I couldn't help but glance at her black lacey bra. The breath was caught in my throat for a moment.

The text read, 'You OK, babe?'

Around middle school, Jujubee developed this 6th sense, knowing when something was up with me. It was impressive.

I lifted my phone up high, took a picture and made sure to get Piggie in the frame. He wasn't looking, however.

"Piggie." He was looking now. I smiled and took the picture. I captioned it, 'Just hanging out with this one'.

I hit send. And now filled with inspiration to go on a nostalgia trip, I got up from the sofa and went off to explore. I called Piggie to follow.

I found myself upstairs, standing in the doorway of Mom's room. It felt rude to intrude. After all, a bedroom wasn't just a bedroom. It was a sanctuary, a place to be yourself, to carry out your own private rituals free from judgement, a happy place. So it felt like an intrusion to invade her space.

But I spotted the perfume bottles on her dresser. There was one bottle, in particular, a fragrance she always bought. It was her favourite - a musky scent with a hint of amber vanilla.

I couldn't resist. I made my way to the dresser, lifted the bottle and smelt the underside of the lid. Immediately, I felt my body relax. It smelled just like her. And there was no smell sweeter than the smell of your own Mother. It felt safe, loving, warm. Now, I was even more excited to see her again.

That was as far as I'd go into her room. So I put the perfume back, ushered Piggie to get down from her bed and left.

I was back in my old bedroom. I wanted this nostalgia trip to be unlike any other. So I knew exactly where I'd find it. I looked in the drawers of my desk. And in the very bottom drawer, I found it; my old diary.

"This is going to be wild, Piggie. I just know it." I smirked, sitting down on my bed, my back against the headboard. Piggie curled up beside me. We were both sitting comfortably. So I began.

'Dear Dairy'

Already, I had to pause and laugh. 7 year old me would have been a legend in a spelling bee.

'Today, I had a fight with Jujubee. She really upset me, but I upset her too. I should say sorry. That's all. Bye.'

Short and sweet, child me didn't beat around the bush. She just gave you the information you needed. That was it.

I flicked a few pages forward.

'Dear Diary,

I had another fight with Jujubee. I really don't want to upset her. But sometimes I get so angry, I don't know what to do. I lost a tooth today too. So I am going to leave a note to the tooth fairy. I want her to take all my anger from me instead of my tooth. I hope it works.'

I remembered that. I had gotten mad because we were playing house. I wanted Jujubee to be both the parents, and I'd be the two kids. She didn't want to. She wanted to play the part of a child too. I freaked out, of course. I specifically remembered telling her she'd do it if she cared about me. She said she did care. But in the heat of the moment, I didn't believe her.

"God, I was such a brat," I spoke quietly.

I skipped some pages, unsure of what I was to find. And seeing one specific name, I stopped flicking through.

'Dear Blair,

You are like the sunshine. You are…'

I stopped reading, cringing at my child self. Was this before I realised it was a crush or not? What was hilarious about this entry was how damn long it was. All other accounts were short and straight to the point. But this? It went on for 3 pages. I bet my younger self felt mega proud about writing so much. But now, I felt the need to build a fucking time machine, go back to that moment and tell little Brianna, "Guess what? Nothing happens. Blair never becomes your friend. She never feels the same way about you the way you feel about her, so stop before you make it worse for yourself!"

I decided I was taking this diary back to New York. I needed to investigate it more. And there were probably some accounts that Jujubee would cackle laughing at.

My nostalgia trip wasn't at its peak just yet. I needed something that would just send me over the edge of happiness. And I knew I'd probably find that in my memory box. But there was a problem. I had given it to my Mom, asking her to hide it away somewhere. And whenever I wanted to put something into it, I'd give it to her, and she'd hide it for me.

And I made her promise to only give it back to me when I turned 50. No matter how much I cried and begged, she could not break that promise. Young me knew one day I'd be on a one way trip down memory lane.

I was so tempted to find the box. Surely, it couldn't have been too hard to find. But Piggie growled for a moment, his ears perking up. He looked at the window and started barking. I was now aware of the sound of a car's engine. A familiar one at that.

Finally, Mom was home.

I peaked out the window to see she was grabbing her bag from the car.

Piggie and I raced down the stairs, taking the vase from the living room and waiting excitedly at the door.

Funny how with excitement there came a level of anxiety, the tiniest hint of fear bubbling in your stomach. And I felt it all as soon as I heard the jiggling of the key.

The door opened slowly as if she already knew something was unusual about the place like she was bracing herself for whatever she was going to find.

She peeked around the door. My smile was beaming.

"Happy Birthday!" I shouted.

"Jesus Christ!" Mom flinched, almost falling back and stamping on the ground. Piggie was going wild now, barking from all the excitement. "Brianna, you could have given me a heart attack!" She shut the door and clasped a hand to her chest.

I laughed at her over-the-top reaction and held out the vase. "I got you another one."

Mom looked at me, still panting from her shock. She was silent for a moment, and in that silence, I realised how much I had missed her.

Mom stepped forward, took the vase and put it to the side. As she pulled me into a tight hug, I could see her face scrunching up.

There are two people of people; those who can't stand seeing their Moms cry. And fucking liars.

Of course, I belonged to the first group. As you know, I…

Well, you already know. Here, let me put in a fun diagram of things I didn't want to deal with at that moment.

"Don't ever scare me like that again, you bitch." Mom spoke softly in my ear as she cried.

"I couldn't help myself." I forced a smile.

As much as I hated seeing her cry, I knew she needed it. Me being the only child she ever had, it broke her heart when I moved out in the first place. I'd imagine it was tough now that she was alone.

Yeah, she had Piggie. But it obviously wasn't enough. So I let her cry it out as she hugged me. I could smell the perfume, and again, I felt that safety, the security a Mother's love brings.

When she pulled away, she immediately moved to the kitchen, already brewing some tea. I let her know that I didn't mind if she had to go upstairs and change or anything. But she insisted we get into the catch-up.

"I invited some people from work to come over later. You remember the flower shop beside the old church?" Mom rambled, her shaking hands pouring the tea into two mugs.

"Of course I do," I answered, sitting at the table, with Piggie in my lap.

"Yeah, I work there now." Mom replied.

I felt bad. This shouldn't have been news. It was my part to already know that.

Mom sat at the table, placing the mugs down too. Piggie's attention was drawn to them, licking his lips with thirst.

"So I hope you're not jet-lagged, girl." The excitement was practically radiating from her face.

I was a bit exhausted, but she deserved to have a great night. "I'm good. Don't worry."

"Oh, and your aunt is coming." She added, sipping her tea.

"Aunt Monét! Yes, bitch."

It had been a very, very long time since I last saw Monét. She knew how to turn a party. And she was always so glamorous. I remember numerous times as a child asking her to teach me her ways, be my mentor, so I could grow up to look as good as she did.

"So, it's gonna be a long night. Be prepared." Mom said.

"So, it's a party?"

"Not my plan, but knowing Monét, that's how it will turn out. Anyway, I saw pictures from the event last week. You looked great up on that stage, baby. Keep doing me proud."

I gave her a gracious smile as I sipped my tea. A small drop fell onto my lap. Piggie was searching for it, but it had already soaked in. Sorry, Piggie.

"Yeah, I kinda fucked up, though," I said, playing with one of the dog's ears.

"'Fuck’ always has been your favourite word," Mom shook her head, "Go ahead. Tell me, what did you do?"

"So at the after-party, I kinda offered Ed Sheeran to be the first person to go through. Please don't ask me why. The answer is; I was drunk. I don't have a more logical explanation for you right now."

Mom was silent for a moment, her eyes narrowing. "Ed Sheeran? Why him?"

"I told you, I have no idea." I sipped my tea. "I'm just a fucking idiot when I'm drunk."

"So, what now? Is he actually going to do it?"

"Yep. His team got in contact. Everything is set in stone." I was ashamed of the whole Ed Sheeran thing, but now telling this to my Mother, it felt all the more embarrassing.

"Oh, God. This is going in history books, girl." Mom held her forehead in her hand.

"I know," I reciprocated. "Even worse, now they're asking the big questions like 'is the atmosphere safe on the other side?' We're still in the middle of working all that out."

"OK, asides from the Ed Sheeran fuck up," Mom put her hand on mine, "I am extremely proud of how far you've come since you were just a kid."

Uh oh. This wasn't what I wanted.

"And I know you're so busy with this whole thing, but sometimes, I just wish you'd call."

Fuck. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, no. I don't wanna make you feel bad, girl. Like I said, you're a busy lady." She held a hand up.

But still, I felt bad.

"Shit. I was supposed to pick up some lemonade on the way home." Mom stood up, taking her tea with her. She had barely touched it.

"I could go to the store if you want," I suggested, taking a big gulp of tea.

"I mean, if you wanna, go for it. Tina still works there. It would be nice to see her again." Mom continued. She reached in her pocket.

I kissed Piggie on the head before putting him on the ground. "It's OK. I got it." I stood up from the table.

We had a bit of back and forth about who paid. I left before she could even give me her spare change.

Before I walked out the door, Piggie looked sad to see me go. Of course, I was coming back, but he didn't know that. Therefore I felt guilty.

I put my sunglasses on as I walked out the door. It wasn't even sunny out, but I knew I'd probably get stopped by people I used to know to dive deep into conversations about how far I had come. I had things on my mind, so many thoughts circling in my head.

I knew I should have put more effort into staying in contact with Mom. But after years of putting her through hell, I felt a sense of guilt. There were a few times I'd message, and somehow the conversation would take a turn, and she'd bring up a childhood memory.

I was done with my past. I was once a troubled child who eventually grew up to have a better mindset. I didn't want to relay the breakdowns, all of the vases I had smashed.

Then I realised how much of a contradiction that all was as I realised it was all that was on my mind as I walked down the street. So I plugged in my earbuds and drowned out the thoughts with whatever Spotify had to offer.

#rpdr fanfiction #s10 #as5 #miz cracker #jujubee #blair st clair #bob the drag queen #blair x cracker #fluff #coming of age #hurt/comfort #lesbian au #grinder #concrit welcome #tw breakdown #tw child abuse mentions #tw dementia mentions

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yikesimonfire · 3 years

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Howdy Neighbor || Alfie & Bex

Timing: Before the events of Promise to Bind. Location: Hallway of Alfie’s apartment complex. Parties: @inbextween & @yikesimonfire Summary: Bex drops by Eddie’s apartment with a gift; Alfie isn’t sure what he thinks of her. Content: internalized homophobia tw

It wasn’t necessary, but Bex liked doing nice things for her friends, and so she’d made Eddie a bone crown while she’d hyperfocused on making things yesterday. She’d had so much energy the past few days, due mostly in part to Mina, and well-- the stuff that had happened between them. Sometimes, she couldn’t stop smiling about it. Sometimes, it made her face hurt. The crown was littered with dried, pressed flowers that were sealed with preserve to keep them from crumbling apart, and she’d dusted off some of the small antlers Morgan had in the workshop-- way too small to even be baby deer antlers, so Bex really had to wonder what they might be from. They looked almost rabbit size-- and arranged them in a fashion she thought might suit Eddie. The coyote jaw bones really brought the piece together, as well. She hoped he’d appreciate the celebration of death in it. She figured he might, considering he saw ghosts and lived his life with them. But when she knocked, no one answered. Hmm, maybe she should’ve messaged him first. That probably would’ve been the smart idea, but she’d sort of wanted to surprise him. She wondered where he might be, as she peered into the front window. All the lights were off, which meant no one was home, probably. She pulled out her phone to text him when she noticed someone outside the apartment next to Eddie’s. “Oh, um hello!” she called out, waving. She didn’t recognize them, but then again, Bex didn’t know a lot of people around town. “I was just dropping something off! Do you know Eddie?”

It wasn’t uncommon that Alfie saw people he didn’t know lingering around the apartment complex. In fact, he didn’t know many people that lived there — even fewer by name. So when he got upstairs, mail in hand, he didn’t think anything of the young woman standing outside of Eddie’s door. As he reached for his keys, he ducked his head to avoid any unnecessary eye-contact. Soon enough, he’d have the door unlocked and he’d be safe. But then, in an unusually friendly voice, she called out to him. The sound of her voice made him involuntarily jerk (and almost drop his keys), but he managed a glance in her direction with a polite, but thin-lipped smile. “Hi,” he curtly replied. The question that followed, however, caused his brow to raise.

“Eddie? Uh — yeah. Yeah, I know Eddie.” Knew him better than most, or at least that’s what Alfie liked to believe. But that was neither here nor there. “I think he’s out, actually. Can’t exactly say when he’ll be back.” Obviously he was out, it probably didn’t take Alfie’s saying so for the stranger to figure that out. She wouldn’t have been standing outside if Eddie were home. Still, while Alfie fiddled with his key, edging it closer to the lock, he figured his friend would probably appreciate him being courteous. “Didyouneedanything?” The words sputtered out in an incoherent mess. “Or, uh… Is there anything I can do to help? He — he’ll probably be back soon.” He figured the polite thing to do was at least offer to wait with her (Eddie would like that, right?) but thought it inappropriate to mention.

Bex didn’t really notice the anxious behavior as she fussed with the phone and the crown in her hands, trying not to drop either one of them. At least her clumsiness had never extended to her hands. She managed to type out a text before the other boy mumbled something so quickly she didn’t quite understand it. “Oh! Oh, that’s-- kind of you to offer,” she said, looking down at her phone as it buzzed. An immediate answer, of course. He wasn’t going to be home for a bit, and she had stuff to do. Mina was expecting her back in a bit, as well. “Um, actually, yeah,” she said, pocketing her phone and looking back over at the other boy. He was quite a bit taller than her, even in her heels, and it wasn’t often she met someone who achieved that. She glanced back at Eddie’s door, before turning back to the other boy. “Would you mind giving this to him when he gets back? I would stay, but I have to be somewhere, and, well, I don’t really trust just leaving it on the doorstep, you know? I made it for him myself and I’d really like it if he actually, you know, got it.” She paused. “Not that I think anyone would steal it or anything! Or, well, I guess I sort of do, otherwise I’d be okay leaving it, but I’m more worried about it getting broken.” As nervous as Bex could be, she was used to talking to strangers and asking things of them. At least her parents had taught her one useful thing.

She made it for him herself? Alfie stood there, dumbfounded for a moment before giving her a small nod. “Yeah, yeah. ‘Course I can!” The hand holding his keys dropped to his side as he shifted towards her, his arm prematurely extended for a swift transfer. In the process, he noticed his shoulders were slouched and straightened up his back a bit — careful not to stand too tall and risk intimidating her. “Trust me, I get it. It’s a sketchy place. There’s no telling what might happen to it before Ed — Eddie gets back. ‘Sides, we wouldn’t want it falling into the wrong hands.” A forced chuckle followed which Alfie immediately regretted. “That… sounds like I’m saying it’s dangerous or something. I just mean, y’know… Things happen around here and, who knows — it’d probably be fine, but better safe than sorry.” His lips pursed together as he studied her face, trying to remember if he’d seen her anywhere; in any pictures Eddie had shown him, or even just from around town. Nothing. Was this just a thing now? Eddie having people over to bring him handmade gifts? “Will he be expecting it, or should I mention who it’s from?” he wondered. He figured that Eddie would be expecting it if she considered leaving it, but he also hoped that putting a name to her face might jog his memory.

“Oh, thank-- I appreciate that!” Bex said, catching herself quickly. It was still such an easy habit to fall into, saying thank you, without knowing what someone was. She thought of all the times she’d said thank you to Professor Campbell and hoped he wasn’t a fae. “Oh, yeah, yes! Better safe than sorry! I mean, this place doesn’t look too sketchy, and when I was over helping him edit some videos the other day, it seemed like a nice place! I think there’s definitely much sketchier places in White Crest,” she rambled. Oh, she was rambling again. She always did that when she was nervous. She smiled to cut herself off and held out the crown for him. “Do you know Eddie well?” she asked, when she noticed the slip in name. If he called him Ed, they were probably good friends, right? Usually people who were close gave each other nicknames. “Uh, no, I don’t think he’s expecting it. I just-- decided to make one and thought of him while I was doing it, so,” the sentence cut short as she shrugged. She wasn’t really sure why she’d made it for him, only that she wanted to do something nice for him, after everything he’d done for her. “You can tell him it’s from Bex,” she tacked on finally, looking back at the other boy with a half smile.

Helping him edit videos? Alfie never helped Eddie edit videos. Granted, that was probably because he never showed any interest in helping him. “Oh, yeah,” Alfie forced another laugh. “He keeps it surprisingly free of dog hair, considering.” He wasn’t sure what to say to that. Hell, he wasn’t even sure how he felt about that. Eddie was allowed to have other friends; it shouldn’t have bothered him. So why did it? “We’re pretty close, yeah.” At this point, Alfie didn’t even know if that was true. No — that was ridiculous. Of course they were close. Eddie was his best friend, after all.

As soon as the stranger introduced herself, things started making a little more sense. “Oh, Bex! From the — the exorcismyay,” Alfie’s voice dropped to a near whisper when he said “exorcism”. He remembered Eddie mentioning her now; how a filming adventure went awry. As it seemed, these excursions of his were just as dangerous as ever. “I realize now that’s still the same word in Pig Latin,” he tittered, a genuine smile crinkling at the corners of his eyes. The nagging in the pit of his stomach was quickly dissipating. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bex, and it’s sweet that you wanted Eddie to have this. I’m sure he’ll love it. I’m Alfie, by the way. Alfie Ramirez.” Why did he just tell her his full name? Should he shake her hand now? Was that the right thing to do? Without thinking, Alfie dropped his keys to offer Bex his other hand. “I’d hate to keep you,” he added as an afterthought. “I know you’ve got somewhere to be.”

“Hey, well, Bucket is a queen and she deserves the world. I wouldn’t mind dog hair all over me if it was hers,” Bex chuckled, giving Alfie a better smile this time. He was a nice guy, and, so far, Bex really liked him. Especially if he was friends with Eddie. She didn’t think Eddie would be friends with anyone that wasn’t at least a little like him. “Oh, have you known him long, then? He said he grew up here, and he’s one of those people who seems to love this town. I think it’s cute, don’t you? How much he seems to like this place. It’s...refreshing.” She wasn’t sure why she’d said all that, but she supposed it was the truth, so what did it matter? And if this was Eddie’s friend, then, maybe she wanted to connect with him, too. Maybe she wanted to show Eddie that she had a genuine interest in his life. He made her feel welcome, after all. And safe. She had broken down in front of him and made him see her horrific nightmare and he’d still offered to drive her home and then also be her friend. He deserved a lot more than a bone crown and a date rejection.

“Oh! Yes! That! That was fun! I was so excited he asked me to come with him. I’ve never seen a ghost before. Or, well, I still technically haven’t, but I’ve seen what they can do! And stuff like that! And it was-- kind of amazing? Did you know there’s different kinds?” She straightened up, laughing a little. “Sorry, I um-- kind of get carried away when i get excited. It’s nice to meet you, Alfie!” she stuck out her hand and took his, watching his keys drop to the ground. “Oh! You’re not keeping me! I mean, I do have someplace to be in a bit, but not right away! Eddie just said he wouldn’t be home for a while--” she shook her phone at him in a gesture of ‘he texted me’ before dropping it, “--so I just don’t have time to wait for him to come back.”

There was a dull throb in Alfie’s chest the moment Bex referred to Eddie as “cute”. For years now, he’d been telling himself not to think like that — and for years, he’d failed. His friend and neighbor would forever be unattainable. It was fine; Alfie accepted that Eddie would only ever be his friend. But that didn’t mean that it wasn’t difficult every now and then. How could he pretend that his feelings were strictly platonic when Eddie’s laugh made his heat soar? Or when he stood there, one hand on his hip, and the other forcing his mess of hair in every which way? Eddie was cute — painfully so — but hearing that someone else thought it too seemed… unfair? Almost. With any luck, Bex said that sort of thing about all of her friends; it couldn’t be exclusive to Eddie, could it?

“Uh, kind of, yeah,” Alfie croaked. “I’ve known him since high school, but we didn’t talk much.” That was a lie. Sure, they went to school together, but implying that they interacted at all was inaccurate. “That changed when Eddie moved in nextdoor, though. We’ve been friends ever since… The rest is ancient history, and all that jazz.” Alfie knew he needed to stop embellishing the truth. One quick chat with Eddie and Bex would know the truth. Hell, he apparently didn’t make it a point to mention him to her yet. The ache in Alfie’s chest permeated his entire body. His cheeks flushed and his heart raced. He was being ridiculous, he told himself. It shouldn’t matter that Bex didn’t know about him. It shouldn’t matter that Eddie was making new friends. And having them over to his house. Introducing them to Bucket. Watching movies and cuddling on the couch.

Stop it! His mind screamed at him over the sound of Bex’s voice. What was the last thing she said? “Different kinds?” Alfie parroted, trying to remember the words that came before it. Ghosts, right. His ears were still ringing. She shook his hand and he laughed, returning the gesture long enough to be socially acceptable before withdrawing, completely disregarding his keys on the ground. “No, no — you’re fine! I know a bit about ghosts, but I’ve definitely never had an encounter like that before. It sounds—” terrifying, “— fun!” For what it was worth, Alfie didn’t exactly want to shoo Bex away, not even when his heart was drumming in his chest. Maybe if he changed the subject? “Ah, that’s understandable,” he agreed. “Have you been here long? In White Crest, I mean — not here, here. I can’t say I’ve ever seen you around.”

If the other boy was distracted by thoughts, Bex didn’t notice. She was caught up in her own, thinking about Eddie, and how much fun she’d had with him, and what was wrong with her? She had Mina, she had slept with Mina, more than once, and maybe she wanted more than to just be friends with Mina, so why did she keep thinking about what Eddie had said? Why had he asked her out? Why hadn’t she just told him the truth? Everything was so confusing yet so clear right now. She blinked, and readjusted, because Alfie was talking again and she needed to pay attention. Pay attention. “OH, you went to highschool together? That’s cool! I assume you went to the school here? Yeah, I mean, that’s fair. I always feel like people are very different in highschool than after.”

She looked down at his keys on the floor and wondered if he knew. Should she point them out? “Um, you dropped your keys, by the way.” He was being oddly quiet between bouts of words, and she wondered if he was somehow off put by her. She was being awfully nosy, after all. She couldn’t help it. Eddie was still kind of a mystery to her, aside from his ghost stuff. She wanted to know more about him. She’d have to ask him. Maybe bothering his neighbor was a bad idea. “Oh, me? I mean, technically, yes? I was born here. I live-- lived-- out on Harmony Island. I’m in East End now, but I didn’t go to school in town. I went to a private school up in Augusta, so that’s probably why you haven’t seen me around.” Lately, a lot of locals had been saying that to her. Did everyone just know everyone here? She supposed the whole six degrees of separation was more like two degrees in a tiny town like this. “What about you? Did you grow up here? I mean, obviously you went to school here, but, you know, did you move here or were you always here?”

“Yeah, kinda,” Alfie absentmindedly agreed, not bothering to get into the smaller details. In high school, the boys didn’t have much to do with each other. He saw Eddie around campus and onstage in theater productions, but that was about it. Whoever Eddie was in high school, he doubted they would have gotten along back then.

When Bex mentioned that he’d dropped his keys, Alfie looked almost startled. His eyes shot to his feet where, lo and behold, his keychain limply lied. “Oh, huh, I— yeah, I guess I did,” he grumbled before crouching down and plucking them up. How was he managing to make this much of a fool out of himself? He worried what Bex must have thought of him; more importantly, what Eddie would think if he knew. Would she tell him? ‘Hey, I met your neighbor, Alfie. You know, the one you never mentioned? What a weirdo!’ His thoughts swarmed with what they’d potentially say about him. No doubt laughing as they huddled around Eddie’s computer and bonded over a shared interest.

“Harmony Island, huh? Sounds fancy.” Alfie chewed nervously on the inside of his cheek as he tried to purge the negative thoughts from his mind. Honestly, he didn’t know much about the island. His reaction was purely based on the fact that it was, well, an island. There were probably a lot of fancy houses there, right? As per the natural progression of conversation, the question was now turned on him. “Yeah, I grew up here,” he answered as he shifted his weight, standing somewhat smaller than he had before. “I’ve never left the greater White Crest area, actually. My family— they, uh… own the library. Or, run it, I guess? It’s probably a lot less cool than it sounds unless you really love books.” Bex probably didn’t care about what his family did for a living, but it was better than hearing how great friends she was with Eddie. “I haven’t worked there in a while, though. I’m actually a software developer. Freelance. I could never work a nine-to-five.”

Bex took a small step back as Alfie bent to pick up his keys. He didn’t seem very talkative, and she wondered if it was because of her. Was she making him uncomfortable? Was it weird that she’d come to Eddie’s place without asking before hand? Was he wary of her? Did he not like her? She shook the thoughts from her head and tried to focus back in on what Alfie was saying. “Oh, uh, yeah! My family is actually kind of uh, well known around town,” she said, rubbing the back of her head before hands came together to wring each other out. She looked back over her shoulder, as if maybe she would turn and see Eddie coming down the hallway, but there was nothing. “My parents are pretty well off.” But I don’t speak to them much anymore. Or at all. She shivered at the thought.

“You’re-- family owns the library? The public one? Do-- do you have a sister? I think I might’ve talked to her online! Is her name Leah?” She was somehow grateful for the change of subject, perking back up for a moment. IF she could make friends with Eddie’s friends, then that was only a good thing, right? That had to be a good thing. “Software developer? Woah, that’s so cool! How’d you learn to do that? Did you teach yourself or did you go to school for it? Either way, that’s, like, super impressive.”

Alfie gave a series of small nods as Bex talked about her own family. He wondered if he should know who they were, but thought better of it. He was still a stranger, after all. They knew each other's names and that they shared a mutual friend. That was it. Alfie was never any good at making friends. Sure, there was also Nell, but their friendship started out of sheer luck — and family ties. Small talk was also not within Alfie’s usual realm of comfort. He hated it, in fact. That’s probably why he didn’t have many friends. That and the fact that that he never felt he needed any. Maybe, with any luck, he’d manage to befriend Bex too. “That makes sense; with private school and everything,” he agreed.

A light laugh surfaced from the depths of his chest. “Yeah, that’s the one,” Alfie confirmed after clearing his throat. “Leah, yeah. She’s, uh— she’s great, really.” He never knew what to say when it came to his family. His parents were strict when he was growing up. They still were, actually. Not that he had much to do with them these days. Leah was — beyond a shadow of a doubt — the golden child. Compared to her and their other siblings, Alfie was the black sheep. That wasn’t the sort of information people usually offered to someone they just met. Instead, Alfie kept quiet; at least until Bex showed an interest in his job. All of a sudden, his face lit up. It was cool! “I’m mostly self-taught, actually! I mean, I took some classes for it in high school, but that’s about it. It’s just always been something I’ve enjoyed doing — fiddling around with computers and whatnot.” Alfie grinned sheepishly at Bex. As much as he enjoyed talking about it, he didn’t want to bore her. “What about you, though? Do you work, or…?”

“She is! She was super nice and agreed to let me borrow some books! Which...it’s a library so of course she did, but I mean, like--” Bex lowered her voice a bit and leaned in, “--special books, if you catch my drift.” Supernatural books. Magic books. She smiled again as she leaned back and gave a short chuckle. “Sorry. I just get really excited about books, and when I actually happen to know people. I don't know too many people around town, so it’s nice knowing this place is actually smaller than it seems, you know? Like, who woulda thought that Eddie’s neighbor, who I met coincidentally, was related to the nice librarian lady I talked to online, who also knows my mo-- er, my current guardian, and is friends with her! Isn’t that wild?” She tried to recuperate fast enough to hope Alfie hadn’t caught her stumble. Not that he knew about her situation, but the slip had even her surprised. Morgan wasn’t her mom. Morgan probably didn’t want the responsibility of that, either. Plus, Bex was an adult, mostly. She didn’t need someone to be that for her. She was doing fine, really.

“But, oh, wow! That’s so cool! And so impressive that you learned most of it all on your own! Do you make a lot of money doing it? What kinds of things do you design? I mean, software, obviously, but is it like, firewalls, programs, mods? There’s so much. Me? Oh, well-- I used to intern at my parents’ law firm, but I, uh-- have recently had a change of heart for what I wanna major in. So, currently jobless, just uh, focusing on school! And, well-- I guess ghost hunting, now. Does that count as a job if I’m not getting paid? It feels like more than a hobby, though, you know?”

“Special books — right, totally getcha. Like, say… her personal copy of ‘Interview with the Vampire’,” Alfie nodded. It wasn’t surprising that someone jumping into the ghost hunting scene would be interested in perusing the restricted section of the library. On the contrary, Leah wasn’t known to lend out books (as far as Alfie was aware) and he couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to it than just Bex’s excursions with Eddie. “Sorry, that was lame. But, yes, I caught your drift.” As Bex apologized, Alfie shook his head with a gentle smile. He was no stranger to talking a bit more than he should about things that made him excited. The library might not have been one of his go-to hangouts these days, but if Bex wanted to gush over it, he’d be happy to listen. “No need to apologize! And actually — now that you mention it — White Crest may be a relatively small town, but you’d be surprised how many people I don’t know. I guess it is pretty cool to realize who knows who and whatnot.”

The broad grin never wavered from Alfie’s face. It was easy to push aside his reservations towards Bex when his craft was in question. He was very quickly warming up to this new acquaintance. “A handful of different things, actually! I’ve cast a pretty wide net. I’ve recently been really into programming a personal database. It’s, uh… a work in progress.” Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. In the event that it got back to Leah, his sister might start asking questions that Alfie wasn’t prepared to answer. “But, yeah. You pretty much hit the nail on the head with all of those. The pay’s decent enough, though I haven’t had any big projects lately — takes care of the bills at least.” Did it matter that some of these projects were morally questionable? Alfie was merely the brains behind them; what the clients used them for were out of his control. He objected not to voice this, considering her parents were in law. “Hey, take it from someone who didn’t go to college: you’re allowed to change your mind about that sort of thing. ‘Specially since you’re the one earning the degree. Have you picked a new major, or…? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“Yeah, but less Interview With A Vampire and more--” Bex started, then stopped. She’d been reminded time and time again that telling people she didn’t know that she was a spellcaster was a bad idea. But Alfie was friends with Eddie and he was Leah’s little brother, so he could be trusted, right? She wanted to trust him. “More, Practical Magic.” Oh, that was a blatant reference, wasn’t it? Well, no hiding it now, she supposed. She gave him a sheepish smile and waved it off. “Not lame! Definitely not lame. If it was lame then so was mine.” She chuckled lightly, hoping to move past the notion quickly, nodding eagerly when he amended his statement about White Crest. “Yeah, totally! I’ve definitely noticed that. I mean, I grew up kinda closed off, so I never really knew people around town, but once I started actually meeting people, it was like everyone knew everyone! Or knew of them, at least. Wild, huh? Six degrees of separation who?” Oh, now she was just embarrassing herself. She cleared her throat. “It’s just interesting to see. When I moved away to Penn State briefly, it was so different. Everything was so impersonal.” She’d sort of liked that, though, blending in easily. The dream of that life was so long gone,though.

“Woah, you’re making a whole database all from scratch?? That’s incredible!” Bex exclaimed, perhaps a little too loudly, but she couldn’t help it-- people being excited made her excited and her cheeks bubbled with it. She needed to find every reason to be excited, anyway. Every reason to be happy. “But, you know, pays the bills is good! Especially if it’s something you enjoy! Isn’t that what they say? Find something you love and you’ll never work a day in your life?” She remembered one of her professors telling her that. She didn’t know if it was true. “Oh! Uh, yeah, I have. Um-- Anthropology. I’ll probably focus on uh, Archaeology. It’s what interests me the most. But, really, anything about history interests me. I could probably go to school for the rest of my life getting different history degrees. I won’t, though! But I could.” She rubbed the back of her head. “I’m what they call a History nerd. Or buff. History buff. Anything you wanna know about history, I probably know something about!”

Practical magic? That came as a surprise. The only spellcasters Alfie knew in White Crest were the Vurals. He always figured there were more, but never bothered to find out for himself. A wave of anxiety crashed over him at the thought of Bex having something to do with his curse; a worry that quickly subsided at the realization that no beginner magic-user could be involved in a plot spanning across what was likely centuries. Unless…

“Not lame,” Alfie reiterated with a meek smile. “Although, I can’t exactly say I’ve read it myself.” He wondered if it would be appropriate to ask her more about it — if only to subdue his concern. Maybe it was best to leave it be for the time being.

It was interesting to hear about Bex’s fondness for White Crest. The reasons she seemed to adore the small town were on Alfie’s list of why he wanted to leave it. “That sounds ideal to me,” he said playfully, electing not to elaborate. Explaining that he longed for a bigger city where he could easily hide away would only dampen the mood. Not to mention that it could potentially get back to Eddie who would undoubtedly be upset by it. If anyone could make Alfie stay, it would be him — another thing on his ever-growing list that Alfie wasn’t prepared to get into with Bex.

“More or less,” he chuckled. “The original code is pretty much public domain, but I’ve made my own enhancements.” These ‘enhancements’ being private journals that he so eagerly nicked from the family’s secret collection, though that was neither here nor there. He’d return them… eventually. “I mean, that’s awesome, though! There’s still so much to discover through artifacts from the past.” In a sense, Alfie was doing the same; unearthing his own past through vague remnants of it. “Good on you for chasing your dreams.”

Alfie thoughtfully pursed his lips. He wondered if Bex had anything in her bank of knowledge pertaining to his own circumstances. “Actually, now that you mention it… You don’t happen to have any recommendations on, say, the history of White Crest, do you? More specifically pre-dating European colonization?” It was a long shot, but he couldn’t exactly ask Leah.

“Oh!” Bex perked a bit, “it’s actually a really good book! If you like reading about that kinda stuff, I’d totally suggest it.” She beamed for a moment. She loved talking about books and sharing other people’s interests and, well, it was always nice when people shared hers, too, wasn’t it? She wondered if Alfie knew about all the things that went on in the shadows of White Crest, all the things the world tried to hide from people-- probably, considering he was friends with Eddie, and Eddie didn’t seem like the kinda guy to hoard that type of information. In fact, he was the opposite. She shook the thoughts away.

“What? Oh! Yeah,” she blinked back to the present moment and away from her thoughts and nodded. “I don’t mind living in a small town. I know it’s not everyone’s thing, but I dunno-- it’s not so bad, for me.” It was harder to disappear, but maybe that wasn’t what she wanted anymore. Maybe she did want to be known, after being hidden for so long.

“Enhancements? Well, I mean, still! That’s amazing. I’m sure you made it infinitely better. And, well, yeah, thanks! I just kinda figured, what’s the point of life if you’re just living someone else’s, you know?” She gave pause at his last question. She did, in fact, have recommendations on all that. But they were Morgan’s family notebooks and the ones she’d dug up at the record hall and “borrowed” permanently. No one knew they were missing, not when she’d replaced them with fakes. She chewed her lip. “Uh, I mean, you could check town hall, if you wanted to. They might have some old newspapers or records that could tell you about that stuff. Does your family not have any books on that stuff in the library?” And little did she know, her own parents had records of that time. They’d been in White Crest longer than the town had a name, after all. She shrugged. “Sorry I can’t be more help there.” Her phone buzzed and she glanced down at it. “Oh, uh-- I-- I should probably get going, actually. I-- thanks again, you know, for talking to me and for holding onto that for Eddie for me.”

“I’m not exactly, uh — how do I put this? — affluent in that sort of thing, if I’m being honest,” Alfie chuckled. The hand holding his keys darted behind him to rub the back of his neck. Growing up, Nell tried her best to explain it to him, but the only thing Alfie could relate it to was his lessons on temperature control — and his innate ability to burst into flame. Aside from that, magic simply didn’t make sense to him. He always assumed it was something some were simply born with. These new-age witches and wiccans most likely accomplished nothing more than what any ordinary human was already capable of. Then again, what did he know? He figured it would be impolite to ask Bex whether or not she had any real powers. It wasn’t his business.

Alfie nodded along as Bex spoke, failing to come up with anything valuable to add. Living in White Crest was a curse (at least for him), but he didn’t expect others to share that opinion. He wasn’t sure how far back his history with premature death went. All Alfie knew for certain was that the records he did have access to were set in the unusual town; none of which explained the source for his self-proclaimed “curse”. What he needed to find was something with the answer in bold print — a pissed off spellcaster rebuking one phoenix in particular. Or perhaps an astrological phenomenon occurring around the time of his birth or death. Not that Alfie knew the precise dates.

“Yeah, I mean, the library definitely has some stuff,” he said sheepishly. “But, uh, thanks. I’ll have to give town hall a shot.” At that moment, Bex’s phone buzzed. Alfie hadn’t noticed the tension in his shoulders until then. “Oh, of course! Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you.” He felt a little guilty for being relieved that Bex was leaving. He hated small talk. “It was great to finally meet you, Bex. I’ll make sure Eddie gets it as soon as he’s home. And, uh… be safe out there.”

#c: bex #writing #howdy neighbor #internalized homophobia tw

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