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dangerousstrawberryshark · 3 years

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Yandere Bully Jasper Hale X bullied Male Reader

Warning: little violence, bullying, and a little smut.

Requested from Peramess.

Background: In this world vampires and humans live together in peace but vampires still mistreat humans because they are weaklings. Then this brings us to Jasper Hale he is the king of H/S/N. He bullies those that weak he likes to pick on one kid specifically... M/n. this goes on for a while until a new boy arrives at school. Jasper doesn’t like how you and him are close. Jasper had to ‘deal’ with Elijah.

M/N: Male name

L/N: Last name

H/S/N: High School Name.

Disclaimer: I have never seen twilight so my knowledge of it low. All I know is its about werewolves and vampires and a girl named Bella.

sorry if this is bad!

Word count: 2026

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MINORS DNI. FEMALE READERS… I’LL ALLOW YOU TO READ MY FICS BUT DO NOT FETISHIZE ANY OF MY STORIES

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*beep, beep, beep*

You heard your annoying alarm clock going off. “Ugh!” you turned off your alarm clock and got up. You see hints of the sun’s rays penetrating through the closed curtains. ‘New day, and more torture.’

You were bullied by Jasper Hale, the “Vampire King” of H/S/N. You didn’t understand why he was doing it, you weren’t weak like others. You do go to the gym and workout, but you weren’t strong as Jasper.

After just staring at the corner for 5 minutes, you finally got up and began your daily routine. You emptied your blabber, bushed your teeth until they were crystal white, and you put on your uniform.

After a few minutes some finalizations, you made your way downstairs, where you see your mother cooking her famous pancakes. “Good morning sweetie!” Your mother acknowledges your presence entering the kitchen.

‘Hey mom,” you said with a tired voice. “You okay sweetie? You don’t seem excited.” Your mother asked worriedly. “I’m just tired. I just wanna go back to sleep.” you said, ‘If only she knew.’ You thought to yourself. “Oh okay, anyways breakfast is ready! Dig in!” your mother placed down a plate full of pancakes, bacon, sausages, and eggs with toast and milk on the side. Your mouth was salivating. “Thanks, mom.”

After a few minutes of eating, you said goodbye to your mother and began walking to school. As you were walking, you began to take in the sights before entering prison- school.

You began to the building appear in the distance. When you entered, you were met with a kick to the leg. “Ahh.” you fell onto the concrete floor, you looked you see the same blond-haired guy that made your life a living hell, Jasper Hale. (is that blond hair?)

“Well, well, well look at what we got here.” you heard him say clearly mocking you. “Well, you need to get your daily beating.” You were now scared, nobody was coming to aid you. Everyone was afraid of what might happen to them. You felt pain spread throughout your body as they kicked.

The bell ring and the kicking stopped. “I’ll be back later to finish what we started.” Jasper whispered into your ear before leaving with his gang. You stayed there for minutes before attempting to get back up.

While you were getting up, you see a hand in front of you. You looked up and see an unfamiliar person. ‘Who is he?’ You questioned. You just stared at his hand before finally taking it.

“You okay? You looked pretty beat up.” this stranger said. “Yeah, I’m okay this happens daily,” you replied not caring about how he would respond. “If you say so,” he responded. “So are you new here or something? Cause I have never seen you around,” You asked curiously. “Oh, yes. Yes, I am new. And I was wondering if you knew where this class is?” he asked handing you his schedule. You looked over and he had the same classes as you. “We both have the same classes. I can show around if you want,” you offered him. “Okay, let’s get going!”

“By the way, what’s your name?” You asked wanting to get to know him, ‘He could be my first friend!’ you thought excitedly. “Elijah. Elijah Wilson. Nice to meet you. what’s your name?” he now asked you the same question. “Oh, umm M/n. M/N L/N…” you replied nervously since this was your first time having a normal conversation. “Nice to meet you M/N! Now I feel like we should get going.” He replied in a friendly tone. ‘Maybe he isn’t that bad.’ “Yeah, let’s get going,” you replied with a smile on your face.

“So you have trigonometry for the first period! Come on let me show you where it is.” You said walking in the direction of both you’re first-period class. “Ugh, trigonometry?! Why is math my first-period class!” Elijah said annoyed, while you laughed at him.

Time skip (4 minutes)

After walking for 4 minutes you and Elijah both made it to class. Once you open the door everybody stared at you. “You’re late!” your teacher said aggravated that you interrupted her class. In the corner of your eye, you can Jasper be chuckling and smirking along with everybody else. That was when Elijah made himself noticed after walking in. Now everybody’s attention was on him.

“Ahh, you must the new student right?” “Yes, I am. my name is Elijah Wilson,” Elijah replied timidly. “Alright, class Elijah will be joining our class and treat him with respect. Do you need someone to show you around?” Your teacher asked trying to get this over with. “No, M/N said he’ll show me around,” Elijah replied. “Okay, M/N you will show him around! Now… take your seats.” the teacher demanded.

You went to your seat while Elijah followed you and took his seat next to you since no one wanted to. Everybody was looking at you both, some with a look of pity, and the others just a look of fear of what was going to happen. Jasper was fuming at this and everybody could feel his anger, he just glared at Elijah the whole time.

Time skip (30 minutes later)

The bell rang signaling that class is over and its time to move to the next class. You packed your things and waited for Elijah at the door. While you were waiting you got for Elijah, you got punched in the back and kicked in the leg, then you felt someone pulling your hair. You looked and wouldn’t you know it, it was Jasper with a furious look on his face. He was about to continue until someone stepped in.

“Hey stop that!” Elijah yelled, gaining the attention of everyone in the hallway. “Or what? What are going to do, you weak human.” Jasper said with venom, he let go of your hair and began to walk towards Elijah. Elijah walked forward as well. Jasper was about to punch Elijah but he quickly dodges and landed a punch on Jasper. Then the fight happened, you were just standing there shocked.

They were both beaten up but Jasper seems to be more injured. ‘How is he doing this?! Jasper is a vampire! He’s human?!’ You thought to yourself as you were confused. Jasper was the first to put out. “Gasp.” everybody gasped. ‘Jasper never backed down!’ you too were shocked.

After it was over you got up and went to aid Elijah. “Come on we need to get to the nurse’s office.” You helped a very bruised Elijah up and made your way to the office. While you were walking, Jasper was just staring at your back. ‘You’ll be mine M/n…’

Time skip (5 minutes)

You knocked on the door. No one answered. You decided to just enter anyways. “Looks like the nurse isn’t here. Go get on the bed and I’ll get the bandages.” you got the bandages and the alcohol from one of the cabinets. You both sat there in silence until Elijah asked something personal…

“Why don’t you have many friends?” you stopped what you were doing and just looked at him. “I’m sorry if I offended you,” Elijah apologize. “No don’t worry, you didn’t offend me.” it went back to being quiet until you man up and told him what happen. “If you’re wondering why I don’t have many friends… (you paused for a moment) My friends went missing. I don’t know what happened to them,” you said while tears began to pour out of your eyes. You felt Elijah hug you whispering, “It’s alright.”

Jasper was looking in through the window of the door. Jealousy and anger raged through his veins.

Time skip (2 months later)

You and Elijah have grown close. Jasper for some reason stopped bullying you, now all he does is stare at you, but you paid no attention to it.

It was the end of the school day and you said your goodbyes to Elijah and began your walk home. While you were walking you felt like someone was watching you.

You heard footsteps behind and you decided to walk faster the figure behind also began to walk faster. Before you know it, you ran trying to get away from this unknown person. But in the end, this unknown figure caught you and pulled you into an alleyway.

This hooded figure pulled out a cloth with chloroform on it and put it onto your nose. You tried your best not to inhale it but failed. You passed out.

You woke up and see that you’re chained to the wall. You began to panic, you looked around trying to see you’re surrounding. In the corner of the room you… Elijah chained up to the wall as well. “Elijah!” you called out to him but he didn’t respond. You heard footsteps coming down into the basement. You looked at the entrance and you see…… Jasper.

“Jasper?! You did this!” You yelled with anger. “Watch that mouth of your sweetheart.” when he said you were flabbergasted. ‘Sweetheart?!?!’ “Sweetheart?! One, why are you calling me that, and two, what did you do to Elijah?!” when I said Elijah’s name, his face changed immediately. ‘Bipolar much.’

“Elijah, Elijah! It always about him! Why?!” He said with resentment. “Why?! Because you bullied me every day! Elijah was the only one who actually stood up for me and stood up to you!” you yelled back at him. After you said that he just looked at you before making a move. “You wanna see what I did to Elijah?! Here have a look!” With that said Jasper throws the dead body of Elijah. You screamed at the sight, his eyes were ripped out and his fingers were ripped off as well. Also, his blood was drained.

Jasper just laughs at your expression. “Wanna know why his eyes and fingers are ripped off? Because he looked at you. His fingers? He touched you.” you were screaming at how calm he was. While you’re crying out your tears, Jasper began to step closer.

He grabbed the chains raising you up. He grabbed your wrist pulling you closer and tilt your head to the other side. Jasper began to lick your neck trying your sweet spot, he put his hand over your mouth so you wouldn’t make a sound. “Mmm.” you whimpering until…

“Ahhhh!” you felt fangs penetrating your skin. “Mmm.” Jasper was sucking your blood. He then stopped and began to whisper in your ear. “You taste delicious. Better than that scumbag’s blood. You taste so sweet,” Jasper whispered in your ear while also licking it and biting.

He went back to sucking your blood in the same location. You passed out from blood loss but before you did, you heard him say something. “You’ll make the best bride.”

Time skip (5 months. 5 months since you went missing.)

“You may now kiss the bride.” Jasper immediately grabbed you and kissed you. “We are now married. Now you’ll be mine forever. Nobody will come to save you. Dead is the only thing that will divide us…”

How did this happen? It started off as Jasper bullying you, now it ends with your Bully marrying you.

You’re his and he’ll never let you go.

#jasper hale #yandere jasper #x male reader #yandere jasper x male reader #violence #a little smut #bullying #possessive #obsessive

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pseudofaux · 3 years

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Hiii Pseu! I have a slightly unusual request for whatever type of fic you’d prefer, drabbles HCs whatever, I understand if you’d prefer not to do it or if you’re not sure how to go about it so please don’t worry if you decide against it!

I am A Big Lesbian(tm) who, for some reason, loves IkeVamp. I don’t understand it either. For obvious reasons I’m not exactly well represented in fics (which is fine, I get it!), but if possible I’d love to request something about a lesbian MC at the mansion. The thought of Arthur getting turned down and then trying to become MC’s wingman lives rent free in my head. The two of them + Theo going out and the boys being flabbergasted that MC gets the most attention -chefs kiss- !!!! No worries of course if not :) thanks regardless!

OOOOOOOH I am so happy you sent this to me, THANK YOU. 💙💙💙💙💙 It’s a perfect prompt! I’ve seriously done a little soul squee every time I think of this. I really hope you’ll see and enjoy it!

(Requests are closed, but there are a lot to be posted in July! Please feel free to follow along to see them all or just check in from time to time. A masterlist will be posted when they are all complete.)

Two days ago you explained to Arthur the precise why of your disinterest. With the grace of a good man used to being refused, he’d begged your pardon and asked to be your friend.

And he’s a good friend, if a little eager a matchmaker. You’re beginning to suspect that all his flirtiness might be a hidden-in-plain-sight loneliness, and general… love for love. But he’s not mopey about it, and he doesn’t slip into making a single advance as other men have. Really, aside from that, he treats you the same. And you’re grateful. His company makes your days joyful.

You’re not wholly sure about his latest plan for a night, though.

“Why don’t we take you to a nice aviary, then?” Arthur offers late one afternoon. He looks thoughtful for a moment and then adds confidentially “I know a few birdcages, even, if you like.”

“For once,” Theo cuts in, pulling Arthur out of his seat by the collar like a puppy, “Just once, don’t be an idiot.”

“I’m entirely sincere!” Arthur insists, twisting free and brushing imagined dirt off his vest. “And entirely correct, I’ll add. I know just the place. The only important thing is… you game to go, dear?”

You notice that he’s swapped out the love for another word, and though you wouldn’t have minded, it’s not nothing to you that he’s made the effort. And you remember that he’s shown you a lot of fun since you got here. “I’m game,” you say, and you stand from the table, too. “Where are we going?”

You really should have known aviary and birdcage were Arthur’s clever way of saying he was taking you to women. Perhaps you should be relieved he didn’t take you straight to a brothel. This bar is dim but clean. It’s very… cool-toned, and seductive. Maybe there’s a brothel attached.

Theo peels off from the two of you when you are still taking it all in. He tells you to find him if you need help and not to take any of Arthur’s cheek.

“Joykill,” Arthur singsongs cheekily at his back. “Come with me, there’s someone you should meet.”

You follow, continuing to marvel at the place. It’s all brass and wood and colored glass, mostly blue and purple. It’s honestly… pretty nice.

“Semele!” Arthur calls as you approach the bar. A stunning woman turns slowly toward you. “Glorious as always,” Arthur says.

“We meet again, monsieur Doyle,” she says smoothly, so smoothly her monsieur is the most elegant, courteously relaxed messeur you have ever heard. It’s so relaxed you are startled by her next words.

“Please go away,” she drawls, waving a lace-gloved hand. Her gesture stops as she takes in the sight of you, and you’re glad you wore a nicer gown tonight. “Unless… you are going to introduce your friend.”

Arthur puffs himself up for an introduction and then gets into it, but a cheer from the other end of the bar causes Semele to wince. When they’ve quieted down you give her your name, and offer your ungloved hand.

Her smile is a very beautiful, sensual thing as she lifts a brow at you and raises your hand to her mouth.

“That is a lovely name,” she says slowly, just above your knuckles. “Why have you come here with Arthur, I wonder?”

“We are… friends,” you tell her carefully. “Newly acquainted, but Arthur has gotten to know me well. He seemed to think I would like it here.”

Semele’s eyes move toward Arthur— too slow to be a flick, more of a slide, which suits everything you have seen of her nature so far— and then back to you. She delicately turns your hand over in hers, like you are a trinket she is opening.

“Do you like it here?” she asks slowly. Her mouth hovers above your palm, waiting for your response. Her deep eyes and beautiful brown skin shimmer in your gaze for a moment and you wonder if one vampire might have brought you to another, or if she is just an extremely sensual, hypnotic person.

“I think I could,” you say, trying to be diplomatic but you know you’re smiling and returning her flirtation. “I’ll need to spend more time here to be sure.”

Her smile blooms like a full rose meant for your hand. She presses a somewhat chaste kiss to the swell of the base of your thumb. “A wise answer,” she praises, as she sets your hand gently onto the bar between your body and hers. She beckons over a bartender, who you notice does not just nod but immediately moves toward you both.There are two women working behind the bar in white blouses with their hair slicked back into braids, and the one with a black cravat is the one who approaches.

“May I buy you a drink?” Semele asks. “We can… spend more time here.”

She is so beautiful. You’re absolutely fine with this.

When you turn to Arthur his jaw is hanging open. He waves you on with a rapid “Go, go! Hoped this would happen!” and so you turn back to Semele and nod. Her smile curves like a perfect flourish and you let her guide you to a table.

When you sit, it is just the two of you at first, but other women join you until there are no empty seats. Semele stays next to you and her smile stays easy and the drinks—you are never without a glass of some kind— are delicious, so you quickly relax into the company. There are stout women and slender, and one with hair so rich and red you think it must be a wig (the woman wears it extremely well if so). They are all very interested in you and want to know your hobbies and if it is true the art dealer and the flirt brought you here. One asks, quietly but bluntly, if it’s true the art dealer and the flirt are lovers.

Semele clears her throat and the inquisitive woman puts her hands up and tells you not to answer that. When a pause in the conversation allows you to lean close and thank your host for helping you avoid the question she gives you a smile and says no one much enjoys being the subject of speculation, and that you may thank her later, if you wish.

You are trying to figure out how to respond to that when a slim hand fits itself into yours on your other side, and you turn to see a new face beaming at you. “It’s so nice to make new friends,” the woman says cheerfully. “I am Claire-Madeleine, and I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Semele reaches under the table to pull your hand out of Claire-Madeleine’s. Her perfume is a thick but deeply elegant scent of violets and roses, and when you murmur your thanks you are still under its fragrant spell.

“Our new friend is a visitor to Paris,” Semele informs the others, “Not just this place. She is… a little reserved, let us not make her uncomfortable with our greeting, hmm?”

The other women sigh sympathetically (a few even cluck their tongues). But despite her guidance to the group, Semele does not let go of your hand. She draws it onto her skirt beneath the table and leans back toward you— violets and roses in a bouquet so lush they are crushed together— to whisper in your ear “We want you to feel welcome, after all.”

It takes you a warm-faced moment to recover, but when you do you excitedly tell the women at the table that you travel a lot, actually, that you write about it, and they descend on that news with excitement and glee. They want to know if you like Paris best—they assume you do—and they pepper you with questions, some sweet, some sly, some outright bawdy. You’re certain you laugh so loudly at one point you may be cutting off someone’s introduction across the room.

That’s how Arthur and Theo find you, you don’t know how many hours later. Semele has been stroking the backs of your fingers with her gloves ones for what feels like a very long time, and you wouldn’t mind if she did it for hours more.

“Well,” Arthur says. “You certainly seem to be having a good time.”

Theo narrows his eyes at you in one of his You alright? looks.

You smile at them both. “I am having a good time,” you confess. “Semele” (you enjoy the way her name feels in your mouth) “and the others have been very kind.”

“I see that,” Arthur says, cheekily enough that Theo hits the back of his head. A few of the women at your table giggle.

“We were planning to head back soon,” Arthur says carefully. “But we are happy to wait for you, dear, if you’d like to stay a little longer. And if you’d like to stay a lot longer… We’ll leave Comte’s coach for you.”

You look around the table at several hopeful faces. “Up to you, chérie,” Semele whispers, and squeezes your hand before she draws her fingers all the way up the back of your hand, and then away.

You snatch for her and squeeze.

“I’ll stay awhile,” you declare. “I’m having a very nice time.”

Theo gives you another look but then nods as though that’s settled, and tips his hat to your table. Arthur grins and tells you not to come home covered in feathers. Theo makes a noise of disgust and begins to drag him away.

“Englishmen,” says a woman to your right, bemused.

“Any men,” says another.

Everyone at the table laughs, and there are more drinks and stories, and more surreptitious touches under the table. At some point you realize Semele has removed her glove and is playing with your fingers with her bare hand. Occasionally she slides a fine nail along your skin, and once you catch her smiling when you think you’ve hidden a shudder quite well.

This is how you spend your first night out of the mansion. Arthur takes you to a few other places… but this becomes your favorite.

#ikevamp arthur #ikevam arthur #ikevamp mc #ikemen vampire #pseu slings #ikevamp oc #do i want to write more Semele? YES

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woeisme-iamwoe · 3 years

Text

an absolutely massive Haikyuu!! fic rec pt. 3

KageHina AND KuroKen because I’m very picky with these ships so there’s not a lot :/

KageHina:

The Cure for You (is You), by tsunderei (6k. T. canonverse)

Brooo...cute shit

Kageyama knew they would separate after graduation. He knew he was going to miss Hinata. He just didn’t know he’d still be here, three years later, nursing an old crush that now seems more or less ruined by time and distance and stupidity.

discovering the smile of one kageyama tobio, by emleewrites (8k. T. canonverse)

Innocence, pure innocence. Those are synonyms, shut up.

Kageyama blinks once before a grin of his own spreads over his face. Shouyou’s breath halts in his lungs at the sight, and he wills for time to stop, just so he can drink it in. He sees it sometimes, when they’re playing - Kageyama’s fierce smile when they pull a combo off just right, when they show their opponents how possible the impossible can really be. But then there’s another serve, another rally, and the moment is gone.

'Shame', Shouyou thinks to himself, as he lets his eyes roam over Kageyama’s stupidly happy face, taking in the creases that are from joy rather than frowning, for a change. 'It’s a really nice smile.'

In which it's their third, and final, year in high school and Hinata has only one goal: to make Kageyama smile outside of volleyball.

room to grow, by Mysecretfanmoments (6k. T. canonverse)

Third year Kageyama is considerate, careful, doesn't grab Hinata's hair. Hinata's still trying to figure out how he feels about it.

where the night goes, by bigspoonnoya (20k. M. canon-divergence)

This one is very popular, and for good reason! It's beautiful.

When their bond loses the immediate context of volleyball, they're left to consider why it's still so vital and important.

Meeting again, by chance, six years later.

thirty-three days of mist and mountains, by tinygumdrops (curryramyeon) (36k. T. canon-divergence)

Kageyama, that’s a lot of paper, sir. I sure hope you recycle, god damn.

Tobio runs by himself every day. Even though he can't shake off that awful feeling that something's closing in on him, he still does it. It's habit now.

When he gets a phone call that Hinata Shouyou is thinking of coming to Italy, Tobio feels like he has to run even faster.

(Or: Tobio has a month to prepare himself before his high school rival comes to visit him. They haven't spoken to each other for two years, and Tobio can't even remember what food Hinata likes. He's got a lot to think about.)

soft serve, by tothemoon (9k words. T. canonverse):

Alternatively, the fic that made me immediately go out and buy a pint of ice cream after reading. So cute and fluffy! We’ve got a socially awkward Kageyama and, if I may, a little bit of a subdued Hinata. Cute, cute, cute. Want ice cream.

"I'm gonna run you over with this truck," Kageyama says, with only half of his usual conviction.

(Because frankly, he's still flabbergasted that Hinata would remember his favorite flavor.)

Or, in which Kageyama and Hinata drive an ice cream truck for a week, the former struggles with a crush, and the latter dares to eat the popsicles without paying.

Fake it, Make it, by zadderlee (50k words. T. canonverse. Unfinished):

Ah yes, the classic fake dating that causes real feelings to arise. Here for the trope, will always be here for the trope. It is an unfinished fic, but it's still worth the read. Actually hilarious and Suga had me rolling. I take back what I said about only feeling safe alone with Iwa, I’d feel safe with Suga (lets be honest, with almost all of the Haikyuu boys. But not Atsumu. Rat bitch (I love him so much).

"Because Kageyama is already dating someone!"

"Really? Who?"

“Me!” Hinata shouts suddenly, grabbing Kageyama’s hand as an afterthought and grinning triumphantly, like he’s somehow missed the implications of what he’s just done. Kageyama is going to kill him.

touch, by buu (3k. T. canonverse)

Pure, young love. COVID-19 doesn’t exist yet. (WASH YOUR HANDS, DAMMIT)

Hinata doesn't notice it at first, really. It's small things, natural things, like when they sit together at lunch and Hinata ends up hooking his ankle over Kageyama's and he doesn't move away; in fact, he seems to not notice it, and go on eating his lunch like nothing's different.

we are the sparks that never fade, by thecivilunrest (4k. T. injury au)

A Kageyama injury fic and I never realized how painful that could be until I read this work.

The first thing Hinata tells him after seven years is, “Toss to me.”

confession, by buu (3k. T. canonverse)

Just a really short, sweet school-boy love fic.

“You've been an ass to me for three weeks!” Hinata blurts, and finally the weight of it is pushing down on him. He's been trying to ignore it, telling himself it's just Kageyama being Kageyama, but this isn't like him, this is weird, and Hinata hates it. He's miserable.

kisses, by buu (3k. T. canonverse)

So many smooches! So pure!

There's a blur and Hinata remembers warm lips, surprisingly soft from someone who frowns all the time, and Kageyama's terrified face when he pulls back, and the electricity running through Hinata's entire body, heating his cheeks to match Kageyama's.

Kissing, it turns out, is as good as volleyball.

Never More Cruel, by dawnstruck (3k. T. canonverse)

How have you not read this?? I know you haven't, so read it and smoosh in sweetness with me.

Hinata starts fading away from him, and Kageyama tells himself that he doesn't mind.

Kuroken:

teach me the way home, by icespyders (22k. T. canonverse)

WHY DOESN'T THIS HAVE MORE HITS??

Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —

because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long

and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station

when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Kuroo and Kenma grow up in transit.

Good Calls, MemeKonHQ (MemeKonYA) (4k. T. canonverse)

Captain Kenma, captain Kenma!

His first morning practice as a third year starts with a blur of gray and red moving fast towards him on his peripheral vision the moment he sets foot inside the gym, and then a pair of lanky arms gracelessly falling over him as Lev contorts himself in all sorts of ways to properly envelop him like some sort of octopus.

“Kenma-san!” He basically screams, thankfully far away enough from his sensitive ears that it doesn’t outright hurt. Lev puts his chin over the crown of his head and Kenma sighs, “Kenma-san! I am so happy! Some of the other second years thought you would bail on us! But you didn’t! Now you can keep tossing to me.”

(Or: Kenma's third year. Or part of it.)

even if you're ahead for a bit, i will catch up, by ghostpot (4k. G. canonverse)

Kuroo sticking to it.

Kuroo first confesses when they're sticky-fingered, wide-eyed kids, and subsequently every day after that. Kenma takes a while to come around.

the golden route, by astersandstuff (12k. T. canonverse/road trip au)

Why is it so hard to find good kuroken fics? This is so good, though. Kenma and Kuroo in a van, on the road, kisses, and mackerel pike.

“It’s a three-and-a-half hour walk,” Kenma points out, on the subject of the cat’s home in a town inside Ama District. “Why aren’t we taking the train?”

“That cancels out the point of a road trip,” Kuroo argues.

“Railroads are roads.”

“We’re currently leading a frugal existence.”

Or, in which two childhood friends go on a road trip and Kenma builds up a quest.

love's not the way to treat a friend, by girltalk (8k. T. canonverse/post-canon)

How sweet! To be each other’s life lines. Drunk Bokuto is the best boy.

There’s really nothing quite as revelatory as the silent minutes spent in bed during the aftermath of a wet dream involving you and your high-school best friend.

the walk home, by skiecas (42k. T. canonverse)

Gorgeous. Author writes kurokens dynamic growing childhood through adulthood absolutely wonderfully.

Kenma reluctantly spoons vanilla into his mouth, watching the sun set. And when everything is dusted in stripes of pale orange and purple and gold, he glances at Kuroo’s profile muddled in the shadows of the descending sun, and wonders whether he had somehow accidentally made friends with an impressive sort of boy. The ice-cream melted under his thumb feels maddeningly sticky, like he’ll never wash it away thoroughly enough and it would leave its mark wherever he touched before he could.

Kenma has never really thought of anyone as good-looking before, never really cared enough about these things to notice them. But Kuroo is objectively so, in this light, in this angle—maybe all the time.

(A Kuroo and Kenma life story, told in five acts).

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fic #haikyuu fic rec #kuroken #kagehina #kageyama tobio #hinata shoyuo #kuroo testuro #kozume kenma

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stayndays · 3 years

Text

𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 - 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧

my gift to @wingkkun for @kafenetwork‘s holiday treats event!

genres & tropes - fluff, minor angst, comedy, misunderstanding(!!!), magical boarding school au (hogwarts but not really), dorm neighbors au, best friends to lovers au, shy!chan, extroverted!reader, gender neutral reader, chan’s pov

disclaimer - the entire fic is based around the fact that the reader was kinda accidentally drugged with a potion, two swear words, chan likes an unnamed female character (but hey in this case he likes everybody!!)

word count - 5.1k (uhm?? what the fuck?? this is coming from the blurb writer guys what the hell happened)

summary - bang chan does not have a crush on you. actually, he has a crush on his partner in potions class, and decides to do something about it… until it goes all wrong, and the liquid of a love potion is running down your throat. now, chan has to deal with your lovesick antics for a week while trying not to become infatuated with you himself. spoiler alert: it’s a lot harder than it looks.

a/n - it is i, penguin anon, the dude who made that survey for stayblr writers, a friend of your own friends, yes hi lol KJFSKDF honestly, this could be a very confusing fic to some people, as some things don’t line up, i will admit that! that’s mainly because i frantically put this together in the last two weeks while preparing for midterm exams, so not all the ideas i had in mind lined up correctly. regardless, i hope you enjoy this, especially you kai ^^

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐳𝐞𝐫𝐨, 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞

Bang Chan does not have a crush on you.

You’re his best friend, his next door dorm neighbor at the boarding school he goes to. He comes to you for one subject, while you come to him for another. You’re the person he sits next to at lunch, and the counterpart to his timid personality. You are anything but his crush.

He does, however, have a crush on the cute girl he’s partners with in potions class, aka, not you.

“So,” you start off, tapping your feet repetitively on the wooden floor of Chan’s dormitory, the chair you’re sitting on face away from the desk it accompanies. “Let me get this straight.”

Chan nods for you to continue, playing with the blanket threads on his bed to anxiously wait for your response.

“You’re going to make a love potion for your crush to drink?” you confirm with him, to which he nods, lips pressed together tightly. Chan can easily tell how flabbergasted you are at his simple, yet elaborate idea, wheels turning in your head. “But this could go wrong in so many ways! How are you going to get her to drink it anyways? How are you even going to get the ingredients to make the potion?”

Chan scratches the back of his ear, which is slowly growing red by the second. A nervous grin slowly growing on his face before he answers you. “You see... that’s where you come in.”

He notices the deadpan on his best friend’s face and winces.

“...You want me to steal the ingredients, don’t you?”

Chan nods timidly.

It’s not Chan’s fault really, Chan believes, as you’re known for being a master at being sneaky. Not only can his own clumsy hands barely lift up a pencil before dropping it onto the ground, he has to be a role model to the younger students! It’s only right for you to do the job instead.

“Fine!” you throw your hands up into the air in exaggeration. “What do I get in return, though?”

“Hmm...” Chan ponders on your question, tapping his chin in thought. “Banana milk for a week?”

“Pleasure doing business with you, sir.”

𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲

Bang Chan has made a huge mistake. It’s the kind of mistake that’ll affect his entire school year, undoubtedly. The kind of mistake that he’ll scream out at 2 am into his pillow, not only because it’s highly embarrassing, but also because it could ruin everything.

It all starts with a carton of banana milk.

The plan, originally, was quite simple. Chan had seen his crush fold open a carton of banana milk in class and gulp it down right in front of his eyes. Well, while he pretended to be busy looking up something in his textbook, at least. By gifting her banana milk, that was actually drained out and replaced with the love potion he brewed, not only would he seem like a nice person to her, she would be infatuated with love for him.

Two birds hit with one stone. Simple as that.

Until you came in, strolling down the hallway Chan was leaning his back on, eyeing the pastel yellow carton in his hands. He knows that his first period is potions class, he knows that you greet him every morning with that same smile on your face while he waits outside for the classroom doors to open. However, he should’ve known that openly holding a container of banana milk in his hands for everybody passing through the hallway to see was not a good idea.

And that’s how Chan ended up where he is right now.

“Hey, Chan!” You approach him with a grin, hair thrown back messily. “First of many banana milks you got for me there?”

Chan’s breath gets caught in your throat while you look up at him expectedly. His eyes continue to shift over from the paperboard box in his right hand to your bold eyes.

“Um- Er- I-” His fingers curl tighter around the drink, but his voice just so happens to fail him out of all the times in the world.

And then his head fails him, and he nods out of pressure.

He watches your eyes light up, and your hands lightly touching his own as you snatch the drink from his possession.

You rip open the opening to the carton. Pressing your lips against the entrance, you pour the drink into your mouth and down your throat, all in one go, right in front of Chan. His mouth is slightly agape at your bold actions, his head screaming at him to tell you what you just did in hopes that you’ll snap out of it before it’s too late, yet he stays silent.

“Hmm, the liquid is more like water than milk, but at least it still tastes like banana!” You gently crush the carton before patting Chan on the shoulder. His eyes widen when you pause, and then laugh in a dazed manner. It’s almost as if he can see the hearts forming in your eyes.

“Thank you, Channie. See you at lunch!” You wave him off in a flirtatious manner, something he’s never seen you do to anybody in all the years he’s known you, and his heart pounds faster with worry.

Soon enough, he falls out of his stunned trance and presses his back against the wall shamefully, slowly sliding down it. He’s too anxious to care about the weird stares he’s getting from other students going down the hallway, curling himself up into a ball.

“WhydidIdothatwhydidIdothatwhydidIdothatwhydidIdothat-”

“Chan?”

Chan’s head shoots up from his position on the ground, only to lock eyes with his crush’s worried eyes. He gasps quietly before rocketing up from the floor, brushing himself off, startling his crush. “Y-Yes?”

“Why were you slumped down on the floor like that?” He watches her scanning his face while he bunches up the sweater he’s wearing with his hands. “Your face is really red too… should I take you to the nurse’s office?”

“Oh! Uhm, no, it’s okay. I feel fine. Class is starting in a minute, regardless,” Chan reassures her, and fortunately to him, she doesn’t question it any further and changes the subject of their conversation.

Yet, his back of his mind sends him flying back to what happened previously. The flashbacks of you drinking that love potion right in front of his eyes sends a pit down his stomach, churning it to make him feel sick and lightheaded. He ponders about how much he screwed up this time, thanks to his stupid brain and timid decisions.

That love potion you drank was not meant for you.

You are not his crush.

𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐨, 𝐭𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲

Bang Chan is a fool, a dunce, the embodiment of stupidity.

At least, according to his two closest friends besides you: Lee Minho and Seo Changbin.

“You’re such an idiot, Chan!” Minho cackles as he bangs his fist repeatedly on the wooden table of the school’s dining hall, accidentally sending his hot chocolate flying all over the place as he flinches.

“I have to agree with Minho on this one,” Changbin, who’s passive behavior is the opposite of Minho’s wild personality, tells the oldest boy. “You really messed up on this one.” He continues to flip through the pages of his textbook after cleaning up Minho’s mess with his wand.

Chan groans, letting himself fall onto the table pathetically, head first. He covers his eyes with his hands and shouts in agony, making Minho laugh even harder. Eventually, once the rowdy student calms down, he shakes Chan’s shoulder to get him to sit back up again. “No, but seriously, what are you gonna do now? They’ll be completely obsessed with you for the next couple of days.”

“A week, actually,” Changbin corrects, flipping to a specific page of his potions textbook and displaying it to the two. “A love potion's lasting effects depend on the amount you give the drinker.”

“And a milk carton holds like, a liter of liquid? So if you multiply those numbers, it’ll for sure last an entire week, which started yesterday,” Minho points out with his finger, directing Chan’s eyes to the info on the page.

Chan lets out a deep exhale, scratching his scalp as he processed the information. “So, do any of you have advice for what I’m supposed to do?”

“Don’t look at me-”

“I know, Changbin, you’re too focused on your studies to find a partner. I’m mainly asking Minho, our designated player in our year.”

“Well,” Minho cracks his knuckles before answering. “I’ve never accidentally drugged somebody with a love potion before, so unfortunately you’re all on your own. Fortunately, however, Y/N’s coming right your way!” Minho points cheekily to behind Chan, making him whip his head around.

And there you are, walking right towards them.

“Channie!” you stroll on over to the trio of boys with a pep in your step and a grin on your face. “Let’s go to Insanis!”

Chan’s ears perk up at the name of his favorite cafe near campus, always serving the best scones and cinnamon rolls he’s ever had, and the fact that you know his love for the place. However, he comes back to the realization that you’re under the effects of a love potion, so he shakes off the blush that’s threatening to appear on his cheeks.

Slowly starting to feel under pressure at the fact that you’re waiting for his response, he nods his head repeatedly with a shrug, packing up his belongings spread out on the slightly dirty, wooden surface. Your face lights up at his agreement, and you eagerly wait for him to stand up. Chan waves off his two friends, ignoring Minho’s snarky smile and Changbin’s desire to laugh right then and there, and exits the dining hall with you holding his hand.

You’re going to be hard to deal with these next few days, he thinks.

𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞, 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲

Chan thinks you’re going crazy.

You’re acting like a drunk person whenever you see him, completely helpless of your own mind. Then again, you’re the one who drank the love potion a couple days ago.

He just didn’t realize how strong of a potion it was.

“Channie!!” you holler out to him from behind, crunching snow beneath your feet as you try and keep up with his pace. “Let’s go into the snow! Come on!”

He turns around to your grinning face, eyes drifting over to the bobble on the beanie you’re wearing that’s covered in snow. You point excitedly to the thick snow next to the outdoor path you two were walking along. “But we have astronomy class in half an hour, and I have to meet up with my potions classmate during that time, remember?” Chan objects, giving you an uncertain look.

You whine dramatically with a pout, stomping to him and grabbing his wooly coat, yanking him with you. “It’ll just be for five minutes!” Leading him off the pathway, the two of you entered the snow covered grass field. Chan shakes his head at your childish, yet heartfelt actions, watching you turn back and fall onto the snow back first without hesitation.

“You know I’ll get sick if I-”

“You’re underestimating my healing skills, Bang. Now get in the snow and freeze your ass off with me,” you point to the snow below you, slowly feelings your fingers become numb despite the knitted gloves you’re wearing.

Chan breathes out a laugh at your desperate attempt to get him to join you, shaking his head as he finally accepts your offer. Unlike you, he slowly sits on the ground at first and then lies down on his back hesitantly. The cold feeling of the ice on his back makes him shiver, and you giggle at his reaction while making a snow angel.

The two of you stay like that for a few minutes, taking in the sudden silence of the campus grounds and the snow falling on each other’s faces. Chan’s body is as stiff as a board by now, but he endures it for the sake of your enjoyment. That is, until he finally decides to get up after checking the analog watch on his wrist.

“Hey! Do we really have to go now?” you yell at him with wide eyes, making Chan roll his own.

“Yes, Y/N,” he pulls you up from the snow, turning you around so he can brush off the snow sticking onto your back. “Now I have to meet my classmate in just a few minutes.”

“Why her?” you whine once more. “Do you like her more than me?”

Your sudden question makes Chan pause for a few seconds, before shaking off the feeling of his heartbeat slowly gaining speed. “D- Don’t worry about it. Now let’s go.”

“Hey! Answer my question!”

You realize that not even Chan knows the answer to your question.

𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲

Chan is a shy person when it comes to affection.

This day, however, he realizes that you are the exact opposite of him.

You and him have a routine every Thursday where you’d come into his dormitory at 7 O’ clock sharp to study until his brain was filled with herbs and spices he has to memorize for his gardening elective. It’s not his fault he didn’t get into the magical musics class like he wanted to, and got stuck with becoming a botanist instead. You, on the other hand, usually had trouble with your spells class, always pronouncing the Latin words slightly off. The two of you would study until it’s pitch dark outside, and then Chan would walk you back to your own room.

However, Chan already anticipated how this study session would be different.

He flinches slightly when he hears a set of knocks on his door already, checking the clock on his studying desk. Chan shakes his head out of disbelief, and opens the door without even checking the peephole.

“Y/N, you’re ten minutes early, why are you-“

“Chan!” Your face lights up and wraps your arms tightly around Chan’s torso, catching the boy off guard. “I missed you.”

“You- You saw me yesterday though,” Chan tries to tell you, checking the hallways just in case other students were around to possibly witness this. “and the day before, and the day after that, and-”

“Yeah, yeah, but even if I don’t see you for a couple hours, I still miss you,” you admit with a sudden, shy tone, burying your face into his chest. Chan feels himself flare up at your actions, catching him off guard. Not once have you ever expressed affection like this towards him, always settling for high fives and fist bumps, possibly even a side hug if you’re feeling nice.

“Just uh, come in. I heard from my potions classmate that our upcoming quiz for spells is quite hard,” Chan makes you let go of the hug against your will, and awkwardly guides you inside of his dorm.

“Ahh, why do you always mention her?” You question him with curiosity flowing through your voice, sitting down on his bed casually and tossing your schoolwork next to you. Meanwhile, Chan goes back to his spot on his desk chair. “It’s like you’re obsessed with her.”

Chan’s ears flare up at your remark, but at the same time, he fights the urge to call you out on your antics for the past few days. Thinking about it, it definitely wouldn’t do any good for you, and you needed his help for your upcoming quiz. “Nothing you need to worry about, Y/N.”

“But-”

“Let’s get to studying,” he urges for you to start with him, to which you roll your eyes at, but place your textbook in your lap regardless. Chan smiles softly at your willingness, and gets to work as well.

Typically, the statement “study until it’s dark outside” applies for at least three fourths of the year, especially since you two tend to stay on campus for the summer simply because you both liked the area. However, once winter rolls around and the snow starts falling, the sun is up for a lot less time, sometimes even disappearing by dinner. Chan knows this well, so the two of you instead set a timer for two hours and pray that you won’t get distracted by each other’s antics.

What Chan did forget is how jumbled up you get once the sun goes down.

“I’m already sleepy...” you mumble out behind Chan’s back, rubbing your eyes with your index fingers.

Chan scratches his head, contemplating his next move. To be fair, it’s quite difficult to get a love sick person to do what you want, even if you’re the person they’re in love with. “But Y/N, we’ve only been studying for an hour and a half.” He decides to move his stuff to his bed to join you, his joints already becoming stiff from sitting on such an uncomfortable chair.

“Yeah but I’ve had a long day-” you lean over so you can rest your head on Chan’s shoulder. “Even though I wanna spend more time with you, I kinda just wanna sleep...”

Chan freezes up, cursing you for being so sleepy at times like these, cursing you for being so affectionate towards him these past few days, cursing you for being so-

“Fine, you can sleep.”

You smile with a daze, closing your eyes. Mumbling a small thanks of gratitude, it’s the last words Chan hears you say before you drift off. Chan finds himself not being able to focus with the weight on his shoulder, twirling the pencil in his hand back and forth. He lets out a sigh, at last realizing how he’ll never get another word written down in his situation, and uses his wand to place his work away and close the light. Pulling up a spare blanket for the both of you to share, he finally closes his eyes as well.

Until Chan realizes that if his crush did the exact same gesture to him, he wouldn’t treat her nearly as well as he did for you.

You don’t know that, though.

𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲

Bang Chan is not good with love.

If it hasn’t already been clear enough. Although he’s had quite a few crushes in his teenage life, including the one he has right now, he’s never had the confidence to confess or god forbid ask somebody on a date.

So why not ask the person who’s under the spell of a love potion for advice?

Sure, it’s a far stretch, even Minho agrees, but maybe, just maybe, Chan could get something good out of this week.

He catches you off guard one day, bright and early before class, while the two of you were heading to your locker.

“Hey Y/N,” Chan asks you out of the blue while waving through classmates left and right. Thinking about it, it was a miracle that nobody was talking about Chan’s mishap and spreading it around. “Would you consider yourself... good at love?”

He watches you almost choke on your own spit with a worried look. You turn to him after clearing your throat with an almost offended expression on your face. “Why are you asking?”

“Well, uh, I wanna try confess to somebody..”

“What?! Who? Tell me,” you blurt out without a second thought, staring at his side profile with wide eyes. “Is it your potions classmate?”

Chan is quick to notice the gazes of your fellow classmates after you raise your voice, motioning for you to keep it down. “It’s nothing for you to worry about! I just need some advice on how to do it, you know?”

“Hmm, well...” you take a pause to think, resisting the urge to pout. “You realize you’re asking somebody who’s never confessed either, right?”

“Still, you’re more.. extroverted? Than me, so you must know more than me,” Chan shrugs, feeling his neck grow hot while he tries to explain to you why he asking you, not anybody else, without telling you the actual reason.

Your shoulders slump down in defeat, “Fine. Just- uh- ask them on a date first? If you just confess straight away, you’re most likely to be rejected because they may not like you,” you explain to him, your voice getting shakier and more quiet as time goes on. “At least if you ask them out first, they can start to like you at the date.”

“Okay.. I can do that,” Chan scratches his red ears, already feeling the queasiness in his stomach just at the thought of being rejected. “Right? Hopefully? Probably?”

You simply hum in response, looking down when Chan turns his head to get a look at you. He holds his breath out of instinct, afraid of a sudden outburst coming from you, but nothing comes. Most likely, Chan thinks, you’re more than upset because you’re not the one he’s confessing to.

It’s a poor idea, and was a poor idea in the first place.

You’re jealous, and Chan can tell.

𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐱, 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲

Chan tends to forget instructions.

So when he’s left out in the snow after his crush rejects him, your words from the previous day only then come back to him.

“I’m sorry,” his crush frowns once the words leave her mouth. “I don’t see you the same way.” She shakes her head, and Chan’s shoulders slump down as she turns her heel to walk away.

The feeling Chan experiences is neither his heart shattering into a billion pieces, nor the emotion of relief. It’s in between those two, for a reason Chan can’t figure out straight away.

It’s somehow not heartbreak, yet Chan still wants answers.

“Oh, uhm, one last question,” Chan perks up at the last second, his crush whipping around at the last second. “Why? Why do you not like me?”

His crush stares at him for a few moments, lips slightly apart. Then she laughs.

“It’s because of Y/N.”

“Y/N?”

“I can tell you both like each other. This week, I’ve noticed that your friend has been acting different, and although I saw that you were kind of uncomfortable with it at first, I could see you warming up to it,” she smiles. “Chan, you and Y/N have something that I will never have with you, it’s a given. I hope you come to realize that, if you haven’t already.” She nods one last time, bidding farewell to Chan for the day, and drifts farther and farther until Chan can’t see her anymore.

Later that night, when Chan reflects on his crush’s explanations, staring at the ceiling, he wonders if it would’ve been different if he listened to you more carefully. Maybe he should’ve slowed down, and instead of practically shouting at his crush that he likes her, he should’ve spoken more properly and asked her out on a date like what you said. Maybe then, he’d take her to Insanis, which happens to be his cafe of choice that you and him go to almost every week. And maybe, him and his crush would play in the snow and make snow angels happily, like how you two did a couple days ago...

No. Chan’s crush is right.

His head’s thoughts are slowly being all about you.

You, on the other hand, believe that you’ve lost him.

𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧, 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲

Chan loves you.

No matter how hard he tries to diminish his feelings for you that has grown in the only the past few days, he can’t stop himself.

From your happiness when playing in the snow, to the way you become cuddly when the moon comes up, to the explanation his own crush gave him.

It all lines up.

“Dumbass,” Changbin speaks up bluntly when Chan reveals his realization to his two guy friends while walking to the dining hall for breakfast. Minho laughs in response as Chan rolls his eyes.

“I gotta admit,” Minho swings his arms around the two, bringing them in closely. “You only just realize now? It’s impressive how dense you are.”

“Dense? Am I really?”

“Yes,” Changbin and Minho both say at the same time, and for once, Chan can only laugh. The trio approaches the dining table, while Chan scans the room standing up for your familiar face.

Minho, takes notice of this fairly quickly, “So, what’s your next move? It’s still a gamble, though.”

“Hmm? How come?” Chan genuinely asks his friend.

“Did you fall in love with the Y/N you’ve known this entire time, or only the Y/N you’ve seen this past week?”

Minho’s question makes Chan silent for quite some time, sitting down slowly on the dining benches. His two friends patiently wait for his answer, Changbin in particular already digging into his breakfast when Chan finally responds.

“I think I’ve always liked them, I just never realized it.”

To Chan’s utter surprise, they both nod their heads in agreement. Changbin swallows the food in his mouth before commenting. “I think you’re right. Maybe you just had that crush on your potions classmate to state that you and Y/N are just friends to everybody, without even meaning it yourself.”

Minho elaborates further, “And she said that you and Y/N have something between the two of you that’s unique? Then she must’ve implied that you guys have this bond that makes you two inseparable.”

Chan simply hums, taking in the information. He’s glad to know that he’s right for once, finally having a plan on what to do next. He sighs in relief, grabbing the nearest plate of food and stacking it onto his own plate, digging in. Yet, Chan still wonders where you were that morning, and how he only saw you later in the day hanging out with your other group of friends. Not even talking to him once.

You simply weren’t sure anymore.

𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲

Chan has not seen you for the entire day.

It’s supposed to be the day that the potion wears off from your body, and you can finally go back to your normal self (despite Chan’s wishes), but Chan has yet to see you. Not once at the dining hall, or the hallway potion’s class is in, or even with your other group of friends who join you in history class.

Fortunately, though, he’s able to overhear your dorm roommate, who says that you’ve refused to go to class today for reasons they don’t know. So Chan takes matters into his own hands, considering that nothing eventful ever happens in herbology class on Mondays, he decides to skip the period to head to your dorm room and approach you, with the help of your roommate giving him a spare key to enter.

The moment Chan walks into your room, a sudden chill goes down his spine, most likely because of the cold air. The lights are closed, with only the morning sun’s brightness seeping through the cracks of the window. The curtains that hang over your bunk bed, as you sleep on the bottom, are blocking his view from where you are. He closes the door gently, but makes sure he’s loud enough to alert you that he’s there. Peeking through the curtains, he sees your body covered in heaps of blankets, smushing your face into your head pillow.

“Hey,” Chan takes a seat at the foot of your bed, taking in your mellow appearance. “Are you okay? Are you sick?”

It takes you a minute to answer, and Chan starts to wonder if you’re actually awake right now, until you speak up.

“It’s not like you to skip class, Channie,” you choose to say instead of answering his questions. You appear from your spot in your pillow, gazing up at him with a tired look on your face. “What’s that in your hands?”

“Oh, it’s- uh- banana milk. It’s for you,” Chan extends the hand he’s holding the drink out for you to take, but you don’t budge.

“Are you sure that one doesn’t have a love potion in it instead of milk?”

Chan gets taken aback at your sudden theory. “You knew it was a love potion?”

“I could tell, even through the effects of it,” you state, finally sitting up and gently taking the milk from his hands. “Don’t feel bad though, since you’re here, I might as well tell you something.”

“During that entire week of being under that spell, I learned that-” you pause briefly. “If you already love somebody, your love for them basically strengthens by ten. It becomes something unstoppable, and you start to unravel your feelings for that person instead of hiding them. Originally, I wanted to kept those feelings inside of me forever, but because I accidentally drank that potion, look where I am now. Have you caught on yet?”

Chan could only stare at you, even after putting the puzzle pieces together. You tense up at his reaction, only fearing the worst to come out of this.

His next words surprise the both of you, however.

“That’s the best side of you, though,” Chan admits without a second thought, and you have to do a double take to see if your best friend, known for being shy and timid, really said that.

“C-Care to elaborate?” you stutter out through your shock, a light tint of red spreading throughout Chan’s body.

“The best side of you is the one you showed me last week. The one where you let your guard down instead of keeping up your confident persona,” Chan explains hesitantly and slowly, gripping his fingers tightly with each sentence. Then, he suddenly smiles, then grins, something you rarely ever see coming from him.

“That’s the side I fell in love with.”

“Love?!”

“Mhm.”

“Really? You’re not playing with me right?”

“Mhm!”

You groan loudly once it finally hits you, pressing your forehead against his shoulder. Chan starts giggling at your reaction, the both of you finally feeling at peace with one another. It’s as if all the awkwardness and tension from the last week drifted away slowly, with Chan’s now ex-crush leaving his field of vision, only for you to come in at the right time. He wonders how Minho and Changbin will react once he reveals that he finally got into a relationship, and how the rest of the school year will pan out with you by his side.

“So,” Chan starts to snicker uncontrollably. “You really are infatuated with me, huh?”

“Ya, Bang Chan! That’s the first time you’ve ever teased me. Ever!” your eyes widen in utter surprise, punching his arm slightly as Chan laughs harder, you joining him soon after. You nudge him one last time, coming up with something to make him as equally flustered as you are right now.

“But doesn’t that mean you’re infatuated with me too?”

@skzwriternet @stayracha-net pls reblog my fic for once i beg u

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kaalamarii · 4 years

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Maybe It’s The Thought Of Not Being So Alone (BelphiexMC)

Gender neutral MC!

Warnings: Major spoilers if you haven’t gotten to chapter 16!!!! Fluff, angst, and smut. So many feels. Sad feelings, sorrow, grief, it’s all in here.

I think this is the longest fic I’ve ever written but I’m really proud of it.(also the longest title...who am I, Fall Out Boy) Also, the grammar might be off because for whatever reason I kept switching back and forward between past and present tense?

Masterlist

Belphegor frowns as, one by one, all of his brothers find excuses to leave the room. He had just walked in, and saw them all sitting at the dining table, talking and joking around like normal. But once he came in, they all grew silent and awkward. He had asked them why they hadn’t gotten him for dinner, and Lucifer muttered something about how they figured he was asleep.

Belphie’s not surprised by this anymore. They’ve been this way for the last couple of weeks. But still, it hurts. Even Beel doesn’t seem to want to be around him these days.

He gets it in a way, he really does. He hurt the human. Still, he’s apologized to them several times, as well as his brothers, and he doesn’t really know what else to do.

Now that he’s free, he just wants to be able to hang out with his brothers like he always used to before the exchange program. He wants to go to Hell’s Kitchen with Beel, pull pranks on Lucifer with Satan, play games with Levi until he falls asleep. But they aren’t interested anymore. They no longer treat him like a brother, but a stranger.

As much as he wishes he didn’t, he still finds himself resentful of the human, blaming them for the rift between him and his brothers.

MC comes out of the kitchen, pausing for a moment when they see Belphie sitting at the dining room table alone. “Where’d everyone go?”

Belphie shrugs. “They all had things to do, I guess.”

“Ah,” MC says with a nod. They too have noticed the way the brothers have been avoiding Belphie. While it was understandable to an extent and they were touched the brothers were so protective of them, they did find themself feeling bad for Belphie. “Well, I saved you some dinner. Want me to reheat it for you?”

“You saved me dinner?” Belphie asks, flabbergasted.

“Of course. I didn’t want you to go hungry.” They grab a container from the fridge with some sort of stir fry in it and throw it into a pan.

Belphie watches the human as they stir up the food, making sure it heats up enough. He’s actually...touched. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“What do you mean?” MC asks.

“After all that I did...I don’t deserve this. Why aren’t you mad at me like my brothers are?”

MC gives him a little grin. “Don’t get twisted, I’m still pretty pissed about what happened.”

Belphie averts his eyes in shame.

MC continues, “But I see the effort you’re putting in.”

They plate his food and hand it to him. “Your brothers will come around, Belphegor. I know they will.”

Belphie sighs as he finishes his dinner. He’s so tired. And he wishes he could speak to Lilith now. She wouldn’t treat him differently and he wouldn’t feel so lonely with her around. He does have the next best thing, he supposes, thinking back to the human. He can tell they have a part of Lilith in them. Lilith was kind, forgiving, and Belphie sees that in MC too.

Without thinking, he finds himself going to the human’s door. When they answer, they are shocked, maybe even a bit uncomfortable to see him there.

“Everything alright, Belphie?”

He holds his pillow tightly to his side, also feeling awkward. “Um, do you mind if I come in and hang out with you?”

“Uh. Sure.”

Belphie smiles as he follows the human into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He immediately sits on the floor, setting his pillow in his lap. MC sits on their bed, legs crossed, and looks down at the demon. Like his brothers, he’s cute despite the potential danger that lies within him. But now, hugging a cow print pillow in his lap, he seems so innocent. During their time here, MC has discovered that though they’re powerful, the demons are as complicated as humans are, with emotions they don’t know how to deal with, resentments and hurt feelings that have run deep for centuries.

They watch Belphie place his pillow on the floor and lay down on his side, facing away from the human, eyes on the tv that was playing some cheesy romcom from Devilflix.

“Belphie?”

Belphie turns to look at the human, fully expecting them to kick him out, but pleasantly surprised when they scoot over and pat the bed next to them. “You can come sit up here if you want.”

“Oh,” Belphie responds, uncertain. “Are you sure? I don’t mind lying on the floor.”

“I don’t mind. Wherever is more comfortable for you.”

Belphie looks down at his pillow, then back up at the space next to the human. He scrambles up his pillow and climbs up onto the bed, careful not to get in MC’s space, making sure that his limbs don’t touch theirs.

The longer the rest of the demons in the house avoid him, the more movie nights there are with MC. Slowly, they get more and more comfortable with each other, sharing a bowl of popcorn and blushing when they reach in at the same time, accidentally touching hands. They put his pillow against the back of the bed and both sit with their backs against it, no space between their sides and shoulders, knees up against each other’s.

Sometimes they watch comedies and the two of them lean on each other as they laugh. Sometimes they watch thrillers and MC gets squirmy, shutting their eyes and burying their face into Belphie’s shoulder. Usually, Belphie falls asleep and MC adjusts, laying him down so his head is on their lap. They don’t even notice that they run their fingers through his hair, but Belphie does, and he often fakes sleeping so that he can stay in that position.

His brothers quickly start to notice the weekly night time visits with Belphie and MC. Of course, they start to join them. First Mammon and Levi, both jealous and not willing to share. They’re both livid when they see MC and the seventh brother cuddled on the human’s bed. Next comes Beel, happy that the trust in Belphie is coming back. Then comes Asmo, hoping the cuddle sessions will turn into something a little more sexy. Even Satan finds himself in there, making pretentious comments about the movies based on books.

As happy as Belphie is that his brothers are coming around, he finds himself agitated when they show up. They all fidget too much, talk through the movies, and fight to get MC’s attention.

It becomes too stressful and Belphie stops coming to the movie nights.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” MC says one movie night when they go to the kitchen to make popcorn. “You don’t show up for movie night anymore.”

Belphie sighs. “I’m sorry, MC. Sometimes my brothers are too much to handle.”

MC chuckles. “Don’t I know it. What do you say we go out this weekend, just you and I? We’ll go to the theater...I heard ‘Curse of the Succubus’ has a sequel out now.”

Belphie grins at the memory of the time they watched Curse of the Succubus. The human had wrapped their arms around his and laid their head on his chest, telling him to tell them when the scary parts were over.

“You barely even watched the first one!” he laughs.

“It was scary!”

“It’s supposed to be.”

“Well, you’ll be there to protect me anyway, won’t you?”

Belphie feels a feeling in his stomach and throat he had never felt before. He clears his throat, trying to push it away, whatever it is. His face heats up. “Yeah, of course.”

Belphegor is glad that the sequel is even gorier and has more jump scares than the first. The human squeals and jumps every couple of minutes, holding on to him and digging their face into them just like before. Afterwards, they go out to eat and split dessert. Someone tells them that they’re a cute couple and they both blush and spit out denials. They go for a walk around Devildom, neither of them wanting to end the night.

Belphie is quiet as they walk side by side, taking in all the beauty of the Devildom.

“You okay?” MC asks.

Belphie nods. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Nothing, it’s not important.”

“Oh, come on, Belph,” MC teases, lightly nudging him with their elbow.

He sighs, but doesn’t otherwise react to the human’s teasing.

MC frowns, stepping in front of the demon. “Hey…what’s going on?”

“I miss Lilith.”

“Oh.”

MC doesn’t mind the demons bringing up their sister. After all, it was a horrible, tragic loss for all of them, but they had to admit to themself that there was some sort of pressure on them since the boys found out MC’s relation to Lilith.

“I doubt you want to hear how much like her you are,” Belphie continues. “I was lonely a lot after she died-or well, after I thought she died. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I had Beel. But Beel was dealing with his own feelings on it. And then after the attic, I missed her more than ever. And that first night I was in your room, it had nothing to do with you. I just didn’t want to feel so alone anymore.”

MC sighed, unsure what to say.

“But after a while, it wasn’t just being alone. I liked being around you. You’re not just special to me because of Lilith, you know.”

“Thanks, Belphie,” MC replies with a smile. “You’re special to me too, you know.”

“You’re really nice to me. Especially after what I did to you.”

“It’s under the bridge now.”

“I’m glad you’ve forgiven me, MC, but I don’t think my brothers ever will. And I don’t expect them to either. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself.”

“Belphie…” MC says, their hand coming up to stroke his cheek.

“I’ll never hurt you again, MC, I promise.”

“I know.”

They walk back home in silence. He walks them to their room and is shocked when they lean over to give him a good night kiss on the cheek. The two stare at each other for a moment before Belphie goes in to kiss them back and MC turns to catch his kiss with their mouth. The two of them hold the kiss, moving their mouths against each other’s.

MC opens the door behind them, not breaking the contact between them. They pull him into the room with them, and shutting the door by pressing him against it, their tongue darting into his mouth to rub against his.

Belphie lets out a quiet groan, returning their kiss. His hands roam up and down their sides before sliding down to their ass, giving a light squeeze. They make their way to the bed, shedding clothing. Side by side, they lay down, hip to hip, groin to groin.

MC pulls away to pull off their shirt and Belphie leans his head down to plant sloppy kisses on their chest. His mind is going wild as MC arches their back, a soft groan escaping, and grinds their hips into his.

MC reaches for his belt buckle, and Belphie is filled with desperation. He wants them so bad.

A knock on the door causes them to scramble away from each other, MC throwing their shirt back on. Belphie isn’t sure why, but he feels guilty for putting his hands and lips on the human. It doesn’t get better when he hears his twin’s voice when MC answers their bedroom door.

“MC? Have you seen Belphie? I woke up to get a snack and saw he wasn’t in his bed.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s in here. We just got back from the movies.”

Beel looks into the room and the twins make eye contact. He sees Belphie’s troubled expression and sends him a questioning look back. Belphie sighs. Beel’s gaze goes back to the human, their messy hair, red lips, the embarrassment on their face. MC can tell that Beel knows what was just happening, but they find themself unable to read his expression. Was he jealous? Angry? They weren’t sure.

Desperate to get him out so they can get back to Belphie, they offer him the leftovers from the restaurant they and Belphie ate at. This seems to make Beel happy, but they still sense there’s something else.

“Listen, MC,” Beel whispers. “If you need anything, you can come to me, okay?”

“Okay…” MC replies, unsure what the demon’s getting at.

Beel takes one last look at Belphie before heading out.

MC makes their way back to Belphie but his demeanor has changed. “I’m sorry, MC, but I’m going to go to bed. I’m really tired.”

“Oh,” MC says in disappointment. “Sure. Okay.”

“Thanks for tonight,” he says, giving them a quick kiss on the cheek.

It was the first time in a long time, maybe ever in his life, that Belphie couldn’t sleep. He lies there in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He went to the attic, trying to convince himself that the awkwardness from Beel earlier is making him uneasy. But even there, he can’t sleep, no matter how hard he tries.

Thoughts of MC flood his mind. How cute they were at the movies; how their face lit up as they shared dessert; the way they always took care of him and his brothers and how they never brought up how he had killed them.

As hard as he tries, Belphie can’t stop his thoughts from going back to kissing them. Their soft lips bruising his, the feel of their hands all over his body. Belphie feels himself growing hard as he thinks about what they almost did, but he doesn’t dare touch himself. He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve the human, and he certainly doesn’t deserve to put his hands on them after what he had done to them. Though he wants nothing more than to go back to MC and continue where they left off, he doesn’t dare leave the safety of the attic.

Everybody has already left for RAD by the time Belphegor wakes up. He has dozens of missed calls from his brothers, and a bunch of threats from Lucifer in the form of voicemails and texts. He doesn’t care, he’s used to this. It’s not the first time he’s overslept.

He scrolls through all his messages, stopping when he sees MC’s name.

“Hope you’re doing okay,” he reads the texts out loud to himself, “Can we talk after school?”

He sends them a quick, “yes of course” before going back to sleep. The day’s half way over anyway, no point in showing up now.

Thankfully, MC gets home first, so they get to speak before whatever Lucifer’s punishment for Belphie will be.

They find him still in the attic, a little bit of drool collecting on the cow print pillow as he snored. MC sat on the bed, lightly putting a hand on his shoulder. He opens one eye to look at them before turning pink and sitting up, wiping the saliva from his mouth and turning the pillow over.

“MC.”

“Where were you today? Lucifer’s going to kill you, you know.”

Belphie chuckles. “He already locked me up for several months. Not much worse he can do to me.”

“Yet you still come up here to sleep.”

He shrugs. “Sometimes I need alone time.”

“Is that what you needed last night?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, Belphie, but last night...there’s no denying anymore that there’s something in between us.”

Belphie sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, MC, I very much wanted to continue last night.”

“But?”

“But we can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I feel guilty...every time I touch you, all I can think of is how I hurt you.”

MC shifts, obviously uncomfortable with him bringing up the time he killed them. “You said you’d never do it again, didn’t you?”

“Of course I wouldn’t.”

“Then I trust you. Why can’t you trust yourself? I like you, Belphie. Don’t you like me?”

“Yes, of course.”

MC leans forward, kissing him. “There’s no reason to feel guilty. Also, your brothers are at a meeting, so we have a little bit of time.”

“Time for what?”

MC grins, shoving their RAD jacket off and undoing their shirt buttons. “I mean, unless you don’t want to…”

Belphie runs his eyes up and down MC’s body, staring at their now bare chest. He still feels worried, but that is quickly thrown out as another part of him begs to take advantage of the alone time.

Ultimately, as the human continues to undress, that side wins. Belphie smirks, reaching out to pull the human down with him. They laugh as he lightly tosses them onto the mattress, trailing kisses down their chest, catching each nipple between his teeth. The human lets out a moan, running their hands through Belphie’s hair. He kisses back up to their neck, suckling as he trails a hand down to between their legs.

MC mirrors him, reaching down to undo his pants. Belphie kicks his pants off his legs, desperate to shed his clothing and feel the human’s touch. He wiggles out of his underwear, his already hard and waiting cock springing out. MC wastes no time wrapping their hand around it, gently pulling at him.

Belphie finds MC’s mouth, moaning into it as they kiss each other. He opens an eye to look down at MC’s beautiful face, flushed, eyes shut. He quickly takes a peek down to MC’s hand on his dick, pumping it delicately yet quickly, sending pleasure throughout his entire body. And his own between MC’s legs, playing with the most sensitive part of them.

Their moans, the feeling of their touch, it was all getting to Belphie. He hovers over them, and they open their eyes, looking up at him. He lines up with dick with their entrance and they nod, granting sweet, sweet permission.

Belphie enters, swiftly yet gently. MC cries out in pleasure, and for a moment, Belphie is paranoid that he harmed them. But when he sees their naughty smile, he lets himself focus on the feeling of being inside them.

He pumps in and out of them, speeding up. Both of their moans get louder and louder, echoing through the attic. Belphie begins to use his hand on them as he fucks them, determined to get them to climax. He hurt MC so badly before, and all he wants now is to be the reason for their bliss.

MC calls out his name as they cum, tightening around his cock and starting his own orgasm, both of their juices joining together inside of MC.

Belphie collapses on top of MC, holding them tightly, fighting back his emotions. “I’m sorry, MC, I’m so sorry.”

MC shushes him sweetly, stroking his head. “I know, Belphie.”

“I won’t hurt you ever again. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The sound of the rest of the demons coming home pulls them apart. Belphie chuckles, wiping tears from his eyes. “Guess our time is up.”

MC smiles, kissing him back. “Don’t worry, Belph. We’re just getting started.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me fanfiction #obey me headcanons #belphie x mc #belphegor x mc #obey me smut #obey me angst #obey me fluff

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miraculousmarifan · 3 years

Text

Felinette Month 2020 - Day 6: Detective

Enjoy this unedited, angsty fic for another wonderful @felinettenovember prompt. I attempted to do something different but I’m seeing wayyyyyy too much of my own thought process projected onto both Marinette and Felix.

Have fun! Around 1700 words

"Stop laughing at me! I'm telling you that I think she's cheating on me. Why are you still laughing?" Felix spiraled while Claude continued laughing.

"This is Marinette we're talking about! What could possibly convince you that she was cheating?" Claude gasped out between laughs. Felix had been growing redder by the minute under his indignation.

“She has been sneaking around, avoiding me whenever there is a spare minute to chat, whispering to her friends and suddenly quieting and flushing whenever she catches sight of me. She won’t even look me in the eyes anymore. All I wanted was to ask her on a date for tomorrow, take her someplace nice and quiet where she can relax and we can just talk. I even got her a nice necklace that will be gorgeous with most of her outfits. How would you explain her sneaking off every day?” Felix had already worked himself into a panic, rolling it around in his head over and over until he came to the only explanation that made sense. Marinette had to be cheating. He didn’t know with whom. She was so lively and sweet, friends with everyone, and many guys (and a few girls) had a thing for her. It could be just about anyone.

“Marinette has the decency to at least break up with you if she was going to choose another guy. You know that. I know that. Let’s not pretend like that is even possible.” Claude sobered, finally realizing that Felix wasn’t in a good enough place with this. “Look, I know she’s the best thing that’s happened to you in a while and that you’ve been really stressed out lately, but you need to take a few deep breaths before you drive yourself crazy. Don’t you think that it’s more likely that she’s just busy and stressed out working on some project? Don’t her classmates constantly ask her to design and make them stuff, especially for events? Isn’t that more likely?”

“That’s not it. Trust me, I can tell. Just because this is our first Valentine’s Day together, doesn’t mean I'm new to her patterns. She is avoiding me,” Felix glumly asserted. The bell sounded, releasing them from school for the day. Felix grabbed his bag and quickly walked towards Marinette’s class. At the last moment, he changed his mind about going directly to her and hid near a column.

“I’m just nervous that he’s going to find out. This isn’t something small to hide and it’s been really hard. I can’t even look at him right now.” Marinette sighed to Alya, walking quickly towards the door. “I need to hurry so I’m not late to meet Luka. Thanks for listening to me rambling!”

Felix tried to quickly follow out of the school, sneaking to find out why she was so determined to meet Luka. He hadn’t met Luka yet, but he knew from context that he had already confessed to Marinette, prior to when they began dating, and Marinette had seriously considered dating him. Instead of accepting she chose to wait and see how I felt about her… Oh no… she regrets it but doesn’t want to ruin my Valentine’s Day!

Felix fought against the overwhelming weight of self-depreciation and fear, trying to follow Marinette down the street towards the Seine so he could at least confirm with his own eyes. He was so caught up in his own panic that he nearly lost her when she stopped in line to grab two hot chocolates. Ducking into a shop when he realized his mistake, he watched and chastised himself. This is why Marinette is going to him. Even when I’m trying to focus on her, I’m only thinking of me.

Within a few minutes, Marinette was on the move again with Felix secretly in tow. Luka was waiting outside the house boat and gladly accepted the hot chocolate. Felix couldn’t believe that he tried to hand Marinette a few euros to cover the cost. Luka handed her back the hot chocolate and quickly jogged onto the deck to grab his backpack. With an overly full bag, the two started off again, talking quickly as they walked swiftly. Felix knew he needed to focus on how they interacted before confronting Marinette about this. She shouldn’t be stuck with him if she was unhappy, even if it would make Valentine’s Day disappointing for him.

Soon the pair were turning down a strange alley, not sketchy per say but definitely not where Felix was expecting. He tried to peer around before turning in but quickly realized he was alone in the alley. He hurried in, looking around for where they could’ve gone before noticing a ladder leading up to a small terrace, mostly hidden from view. The flush that was developing from all of this exercise quickly drained and the pit steadily growing in his stomach became unbearable.

Marinette’s laugh rang out from above. If he backed up and peered up, Felix could see some hanging lights and possibly some lawn furniture. They were definitely up there. He knew he wouldn’t have the courage to wait for them to leave to confront them, so he needed to go up. Another deep breath first, to steady his nerves.

He grabbed the ladder and started to climb. Poking his head up through the opening to the terrace, he glanced around and saw unfinished decorations in excess. Marinette still trying to hang some things up, curtains? And Luka setting up a table with candles and fake flowers? Oh god. I walked in on them preparing their date… I need to get this over with.

“Marinette…” his voice came out shakier than he wanted but he hoped she wouldn’t notice. He moved to sit on the ground near the ladder. Her head turned in a strange, jerky motion that betrayed either fear or guilt, Felix couldn’t decide. Her mouth dropped in surprise.

“What’re you doing here right now? You weren’t supposed to see this yet,” she blurted out. Luka also looked over at the two and looked embarrassed at being there.

“Unless you want me to stay and help you with anything else, I think I’ll just leave now.” Luka picked up his bag and walked towards the ladder, faster than a walk but smooth enough to not really look like running away. Felix looked him in the eyes as he approached.

“That’s probably a good idea. I’m sure that Marinette will fill you in on anything important later,” his tone was sharp, nearly accusatory. He didn’t feel much patience towards the other boy right now, even if they weren’t actively engaged in anything when he got up to this hideaway.

“So Marinette, do you want to discuss why you’ve been avoiding me lately and going to secret places alone with Luka?” Felix hoped he sounded more calm than he felt as he stared coldly at Marinette. It hurt to look at her like this, to feel so abandoned by the one person that felt like home.

“Well for one, this is the first time that Luka and I have been alone and others are planning on coming, unless Luka texted them not to. I’ve been enlisting his and a few others’ help to get this set up,” she turned, gesturing to the decorations set up. “The only parts left to do involved putting up the canopy, just in case it gets wet before tomorrow night, the curtains, for a little more insulation from the weather, and to set up these last few details that might’ve blown away if I left them outside. It was a rather big project so I wanted to make sure every piece went smoothly. As for the avoiding part… it’s actually rather difficult not to talk about this and ruin the surprise for you but I guess that won’t be an issue anymore,” Marinette grinned sheepishly at the floor. She took a few steps closer and sat down on the ground, a few feet from him to let him process, but looking more earnestly at him. He appreciated that she knew how he preferred space while working through topics but loved contact the moment he was done, and this was definitely a lot to process.

“I need you to explain more clearly what is happening. This all seemed like you were cheating on me, or at least planning to break up with me, but your words don’t make sense with that right now,” Felix couldn’t keep from pleading. She had thrown a lifeline while he was drowning but that didn’t mean she was planning on helping pull him back to the boat. He remembered her firm insistence that he treat others with better manners outside of formal events and added after the moment’s hesitation, “Please.”

“Oh Felix… I’m so sorry that this gave you the impression that that was happening here. I knew you’d been getting busier at home and wanted to throw you a little getaway where we probably wouldn’t be found by your bodyguard right away so you could relax more… I needed help from the others to find this place, get approval to use it for about a couple of weeks, and to set up all of this without the risk of it getting ruined. I just wanted the best surprise for you for our first Valentine’s Day together…” As Marinette spoke, Felix’s eyes widened before dropping his head into his hands.

“My god Marinette. I am such an idiot. Here I thought I was some amazing detective, figuring out the mystery and really I just worked myself up. Claude was right. I was thinking so much about everything that I drove myself crazy,” Felix couldn’t help but bitterly laugh at the idea.

“So he didn’t tell you what was happening when you were freaking out?” Marinette straightened up and pulled his hands into hers, eyes deadly serious.

“What do you mean? He just told me that you cheating wasn’t possible and I needed to take a few deep breaths to calm down…” Felix couldn’t quite grasp why Marinette looked flabbergasted.

“Well Claude and I need to sit down and discuss when it’s an appropriate time to break the code of silence for a surprise. Spiraling like this is an appropriate time to let you in on the surprise. My goodness…”

Felix finally understood.

“I’m going to kill him for not telling me at that point.”

#felinette month #felinette month 2020 #felinette #miraculous ladybug

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eastofthemoon · 4 years

Text

Manage to write this Ducktales fic for Halloween. Enjoy!

Title: Afterthought

Rating: G

Characters: Darkwing Duck and Launchpad

Summary: Drake is trying to make plans for Halloween, but doesn't realize how extensive Launchpad's are.

Archive of Our Own

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“Almost there...just a bit more,” Drake muttered as he carved off the last bit of pumpkin. He grinned as he stepped back to admire his work.

His Darkwing Duck jack-o-lantern. He had carved every detail of the eyes, the beak and that ever-so-confident smile.

“Almost perfect,” Drake said aloud as he reached into the trunk and carefully lifted out the items required. “Just need to put on the final touch and voila!”

The small hat, mask and cape fit the pumpkin perfectly!

Drake took a photo to share with the DWD Fanclub, reaching for his coffee as it uploaded. “Much better than all those Gizmoduck pumpkins, if I do say so myself.”

He took a sip, but spat it out moments later, coughing as he looked into the mug. Why had his drink betrayed him with its bitterness? The answer, naturally, laid in the abyssal darkness of the liquid before him.

“Ah,” Drake grumbled. “I always forget the milk.”

He muttered to himself as he went into his fridge and snagged the milk carton. As he added it to his coffee, he glanced to his calendar.

“Haven’t heard from LP for a couple of days,” he said aloud.

Launchpad had told Drake he was going to be busy with preparations and wouldn’t see him for a bit. That hadn’t bothered Drake since they had just spent a week marathoning the entire TV run of Darkwing Duck, trying out another fan's recommended watching order.

Besides, Drake knew some people took decorating for Halloween seriously, and LP did like committing whole-heartedly to things. He was getting a bit of a foreboding feeling from the plans, though; from what Drake had seen of Launchpad's crayon blueprint scribblings, this was going to be on a whole new level. And much as he didn't want to bother him, it had been close to a week since they'd spoken.

Maybe giving Launchpad a call would help - and if anyone could appreciate his masterpiece for Halloween, it would be his literal partner in fighting crime. Drake reached for the cell phone and hit dial. He heard the beeping as he took another sip of his drink and swallowed it in time to hear his partner answer.

His ear was greeted by the loud whirring of a chainsaw.

Drake nearly dropped the phone until the roar stopped and he heard Launchpad’s voice. “Hey, DW!”

“Uh, hey, LP,” Drake answered as he lowered his cup. “You okay there?” He narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t crash into your toolshed while answering the phone again did you?”

There was a deep sigh. “I wish,” Launchpad replied. “Sorry, I was just finishing final preparations for..the night.”

Drake sipped his coffee again. “How is that going, anyway? You've been keeping kinda quiet.”

Launchpad clicked his tongue. “Well, the inner barricade is pretty solid structurally. I've got enough fuel to keep the burners going, but I think I need more metal sheets for the outer wall.”

Drake raised an eyebrow. Just how big was he planning to make this thing? And - burners?

“Since I assume you’re staying put I figured I'd stop by your place once I was done patrol for the night,” Drake replied.

There was a gasp from the other end. “YOU’RE PLANNING ON GOING OUT?!”

“Sure,” Drake said as he set down his mug, placing his hand on his hip. “Crime doesn’t take a night off just because it’s a spooky night. I mean, the new mayor is talking about having crime take a vacation, but that's just talk”

“Oh DW,” Launchpad said as it sounded like he was tearing up. “You’re the bravest hero I know.”

“Uh thanks,” Drake replied.

He was of course brave - braver than Gizmoduck at any rate, and there weren't any other heroes he knew of around - but the enthusiasm was welcome. It was a bit much, though; Drake was just going to make certain no one tried to do any pranks on innocent victims or steal some kid’s candy. It wasn’t that huge of a deal.

“I can pick up a pizza and we can relax with a movie?” Drake continued.

“If we survive the night,” Launchpad replied in a dark tone.

“You...really get into the spirit,” Drake replied.

“What do you mean-” Launchpad started but then cut himself off. “Oh, wait, got to go. Delivery guy is here with the barbed wire. Got to go!”

Drake barely had time to say bye before he heard a click and put his phone away.

“I really don’t get the theme he’s going for but at least he’s dedicated,” Drake muttered.

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

“You jerk! Give it back!” a kid dressed up as a cupcake yelled.

The Beagle Boy laughed as he began to rummage through the kid’s treat bag. “Finders keepers squirt!”

“You didn’t find it, you stole it,” the kid dressed as a fire truck said as he tried to yank back the bag.

“Still found it, still mine,” the Beagle Boy replied as he shoved the kid back. “Now scram before I-”

“I AM THE TERROR THE FLAPS IN THE NIGHT!”

The Beagle Boy and his victims all froze as they looked around.

“I AM THE CANDY CORN THAT LIES AT THE BOTTOM OF THE BAG FOR MONTHS!”

“Blackarts?” the Beagle Boy said aloud. “That you? If this is a prank-”

“I AM DARKWING DUCK!”

The Beagle Boy was greeted with a kick to the face. He grunted as he fell back and tossed the candy bag in the air. Darkwing flipped, caught the bag and tipped his hat at the Beagle Boy.

“If you want candy, you’ll have to go trick-or-treating like everyone else,” Darkwing Duck cried. He held up a fist. “So leave these kids alone or else.”

The Beagle Boy grunted and glared. “Or else what?”

Darkwing Duck grinned and brought his face closer. “You want to find out?”

The Beagle Boy sweated, trying to stand his ground, but then growled as he began to step backwards. “He didn’t have any good candy anyway.” He grumbled under his breath.

The kids came closer as they watched the Beagle Boy retreat and then joyfully looked up to Darkwing.

“Thanks, mister,” said the cupcake kid.

“You are welcome,” Darkwing said triumphantly as he handed back the bag. “Anything to help a citizen.”

“You got a great costume too, but I thought it was supposed to be red,” said the fire truck kid.

Darkwing halted and forced a smile. “Um..this isn’t a costume. I am Darkwing Duck! Avenger of the weak and...what are you doing?”

Both kids reached into their bags and held out a piece of candy out for him.

“Here you go,” the cupcake kid replied. “Only fair you get candy too!”

Darkwing decided to let the correction go and took the candy. “Thanks, kiddos! Now you'd best get home before it gets too late.”

“Okay, we will,” said the fire truck kid as they waved and ran off.

Darkwing sighed as he unwrapped the candies and popped them into his mouth. “Fourth time tonight,” he muttered. “Oh well, at least they kind of appreciate me.”

Suddenly his phone rang. Darkwing reached for his phone and saw it was Launchpad’s number.

Didn’t think I was running that late, Darkwing replied as he answered. “LP?”

“IT’S A HOLIDAY!” Launchpad shouted so loud Darkwing had to pull the phone away from his ear. “IT’S JUST KIDS DRESSED UP IN COSTUMES! AND THEY GIVE OUT CANDY AND-”

“Whoa, whoa, LP slow down,” Darkwing replied. “What are you talking about?”

Launchpad quickly told him the summary of his night and with each passing word Darkwing could only blink dumbly.

“Let me get his straight,” Darkwing said as he found a bench to sit on. “You thought this whole night was cursed because you read an ‘ancient scroll’ which was actually a candy wrapper and that all the trick-or-treaters were demons.”

“Yeah, funny huh?” Launchpad said with a laugh.

Darkwing was flabbergasted. Then suddenly the conversations the past few weeks flew into his brain and they took on a different meaning.

“I really need to practice my detective skills.”

“Say again?” Launchpad asked.

Darkwing shook his head. “Nothing. My patrol’s almost done. Want me to stop by your place?”

“Sure! I’m just going to get this free candy from Mister McD, but I’ll meet you at my place.” Launchpad laughed. “Man, it’s a relief to know I don’t have to fight off eldritch horrors in October.”

Darking chuckled. “Yeah, I’ll bet-”

“Now I just have to worry about the flying archers in February,” Launchpad said darkly.

Darkwing went silent. “Come again?”

“It happens every winter. Crimson streaks everywhere marking the resting places of the fallen, hunters around every corner seeking out new prey,” Launchpad continued. “I'm starting to suspect they're assassins - their targets marked with the design of the beating heart they seek to still.”

Darkwing clicked his tongue. “Launchpad, have you ever heard of a Valentine?”

“Valen-what?”

DW rubbed his forehead and made a note to have a long chat with him.

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #Darkwing Duck #drake mallard #launchpad mcquack #writing #Halloween

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anaisrecsfics · 4 years

Text

Teen Wolf Rewrites, Fix-Its & Canon Divergence

Have you seen the TV series and found the characters treated badly? Maybe you have and maybe you haven’t and I fall into the latter category but I will always enjoy people’s take on our favourite characters~

P. S. Can you see how the recs just starts to deviate from my original intention?

Gif made by me using Pixel Studio, inspired by the fic Tattoo

The Dolorous Stroke by Escalus wc: 81525, ch: 20/20

Stiles and the younger members of the pack are in the middle of their junior year. Things are quiet; there's finally a chance to be happy. There's a chance for them to be teenagers and maybe even pursue love. But everything is about to erupt once again as buried secrets come to the surface, the Alpha Pack finally makes its move, and the guilty will be brought face-to-face with their crimes.

Oh, and after disappearing for more than a year, Scott McCall has returned to Beacon Hills.

This is a rewrite of the first half of season three with the idea that Stiles was bitten in Wolf Moon instead of Scott.

Losing Control by KhaSterek, sisforsterek wc: 35207, ch: 10/10

Sterek-centric retelling of Teen Wolf, with a few changes to a few characters, and how that changes the canon version of events.

"Are you ashamed of what you are?" The wolf says, already getting up from his place on the couch beside Stiles.

"Of course not!" He says. Because he really, really isn't. It's the only thing connecting him with his mother, and he could never be ashamed of that.

"What then?" Derek asks, angrily.

“I want so badly not to have to hide who I really am, Derek, what I really am, but it’s out of my hands,” Stiles says, feeling his eyes sting from unshed tears.

Stop There, and Let Me Correct It by Livinginfictions wc: 28284, ch: 6/13

When Stiles' late night stroll with his best friend ends in said friend being turned in a howling creature of the night, he does his best to cope with his now batshit crazy life. - The first in a series of episode by episode rewrites of Teen Wolf from Stiles' perspective, including missing scenes as I imagine they might've been, and a few dialogue changes. Canon compliant for Season 1, but later seasons will be Canon Divergent.

Hear The Wheels As They Roll by crossroadswrite wc: 44919, ch: 2/2

“You can’t be here. This is private property,” someone calls out and for some reason that voice sounds painfully familiar.

When it hits him why, Stiles almost chokes with the realization, “Derek Hale,” he says, unbelievably happy because he remembers Derek when they were young.

Derek looks grumpier, sadder, angrier. Stiles can’t really fault him for that. He also looks surprised that Stiles knows who he is. He squint/glares suspiciously at him, his nostrils flare for a second before he widens his eyes almost dramatically.

“Stiles,” he says quietly, like he can’t really believe it.

Stiles beams, “Yeah, you remember me!”

I Was A Teenage Werewolf by HaleHathNoFury (My_Trex_has_fleas) wc: 419518, ch: 46/50

Stiles just knows he's going to get lost in the woods. There must be a Laura Palmer reference in there somewhere.

A fork in the road retelling of Teen Wolf where Stiles is the one to get bitten.

Mockingbird Smile by HaleHathNoFury (My_Trex_has_fleas) wc: 3554, ch: 1/1

Kate has come to Beacon Hills to seduce Derek Hale and kill the Hale pack.

Maybe she should have done some more research first.

(First in a series)

(I can’t gush enough about this particular writer!! Her AUs are awesome!!)

A Christmas Miracle by HaleHathNoFury (My_Trex_has_fleas) wc: 5052, ch: 1/1

Scott needs to get his pack beyond the border and away from the Hunters that are wiping out all supernatural creatures, but while he's trying he runs into an unexpected old friend.

(First in a series)

My Blood Approves by churkey wc: 7188, works: 2

Life of Stiles Stilinski, autistic werewolf.

Your Darkness Will Be Rewritten by Omni wc: 11460, ch: 1/1

Stiles is no guardian angel. In fact, as an incubus, he's pretty far from it. But still, it seems he's always there at the right place and the right time to be the protector that Derek didn't even know he needed.

(An alternate timeline where Stiles prevents the Hale fire, and returns to Beacon Hills years later when someone's performing three-fold ritualistic killings.)

A Jump To The Left by GracieBirdie wc: 4283, ch: 1/1

Older grouchy broken Stiles somehow ended up with younger sassy actual ray of sunshine Derek.

It Started With a Game by nightlight9 wc: 2803, ch: 1/1

It’s one thing to have Stiles as his anchor. It’s another thing entirely to realize that he’s in love with his best friend. His best friend who happens to be three years younger than him and, oh god, John is going to have him arrested. He won’t be able to become a cop because he’ll be behind bars.

Tattoo by littlefrog1025 wc: 5675, ch:1/1

Sterek fix-it fic of Teen Wolf Season 3 Episode 1: Tattoo

Stop Crossing Oceans by green-leaf (greenleaf) wc: 11654, ch:1/1

“There are no absolutes, Scott! No hard rights or hard wrongs! The world doesn’t fucking work that way and we can’t afford to think like that, because people are going to die! We signed up for that the moment we got involved with all this!”

“We? We?” Scott hisses. “Don’t you think you? Don’t forget that you’re the one who dragged us into that forest the night it all started, Stiles. So if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s yours.”

Something inside Stiles cracks, so strong and so deep that he practically hears it.

The One You Choose by Livinginfictions wc: 13440, ch:1/1

Stiles hadn’t seen Scott in over a week, except for glances he caught during school hours.

No one called, until someone did. by queen_of_OTPs wc: 4419, ch: 1/1

Stiles found that he hadn’t spoken more than necessary since August. Gone were the rambling rants, extravagant gestures, and range of vocal tones. Monotone sentences that were cut with sharp edges, words like knives and tone like venom.

No one had called.

(Gift for stereksau on tumblr for the Summer Sterek Exchange 2017)

Multidisciplinary Studies by DevilDoll wc: 51348, ch: 7/7

Stiles is a slightly-older-and-very-sexy librarian and Derek has a thirst for knowledge.

Laura is Badass by hoars wc: 5079, ch: 1/1

Laura's not expecting two teenage boys to burst into the bakery, brandishing lacrosse sticks yelling about “Kidnap!” and “Pedobears!” and “Sex slaves are illegal!”

She’s flabbergasted.

“Cupcake?” Derek offers.

age: a sum of years and experiences by hoars wc: 11285, ch: 1/1

Dear Jeff Davis,

When you grow up reading Tamora Pierce, large age gaps do not make you hesitate when it comes to your OTP.

Sincerely,

hoars

Big Bad Wolf by Nival_Vixen wc: 11758, ch: 9/9

Stiles knows that someone needs and trusts him, and it's not his father or Scott - it's Derek.

After he discovers that Kate's kidnapped Derek, Stiles tracks him down, and with the help of the pack, Stiles gets his big bad wolf back.

set your flag on fire by Siria wc: 35840, ch: 1/1

"Things have been getting progressively weirder since you two left," Stiles told Cora and Derek. "Like, weird even for Beacon Hills."

(Canon divergent from mid-season 3).

The Stilinski Pack by Siria wc: 5668, ch: 1/1

"You mean we're going to be bros and we're going to be bros?" Scott said. His smile grew impossibly wider. "This is the best news ever!"

#sterek fic rec #sterek fic recs #sterek au #canon divergence #sterek rewrites #sterek fix-its #sterek fics #<5k #<10k #<20k #<30k #<40k #anaisrecsfics

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bookishtickles · 4 years

Text

So tumblr won't let me make titles anymore so I guess I'm writing fics with no titles now. That's okay cause I really sucked with titles anyway lol

So anyways, this is my first Harry Potter fic, and I will now be taking prompts for Harry Potter. I've been watching the movies a lot lately and will be reading the books soon so I'm on a HP kick right now. And people waiting on MCU and DnP prompts (yeah I still have a few of those), I will get to them, I promise, I'm just v v immersed in the Wizarding World right now haha

So here is the fic, it is Lee Harry and Ler Fred and George cause brotherly bonds are precious

The year at Hogwarts has nearly wrapped, and Harry has more fun than he had ever had before. Growing up in an enevironment where you're hated for being a wizard and just existing was tough, but it was nice to be surrounded by other wizards all year

But in just a few more weeks he would be back with the Dursley's. Ugh

Little 11 year old Harry is dreading going back there where he basically is treated like a slave and has to grow up in a tiny room under the stairs. It was the reason he is the smallest person in his year; the small walls don't really allow much growing. The more he thinks about it, the more upset he gets

And he has a family at Hogwarts now. Ron, Hermione, Neville, and the twins. And he can only imagine the group growing. He was going to miss them. And that is what he was truly upset about

Ron can tell something is bothering Harry, and he isn't quite sure what it is. But he does know that his brothers are very good at cheering people up. So he quietly told them that Harry has been sad lately

And of course, the twins saw this as a challenge

"Hey Harry," they say at practically the same time, sitting on the bed Harry is sat on, twiddling with his fingers

"Hi," Harry says glumly, not looking up from his fingers

Damn, Fred thought to himself, he really IS sad. For a kid who is usually filled with wonder at seeing magic that he thought never existed, this is a bit out of character, and a whole lot closer to how Harry acted the first time they met

"Why are you so sad?" George asked, curious, also not expecting to see Harry this sad

"I'm going to miss everyone...." Harry admitted pretty quickly. "I don't want to go back to the Dursley's...."

"Well, it's only 2 months you'll be there," Fred attempted to cheer the small boy up

"And that's about 2 months too long,"

"Well," George is about to make a joke, in a small attempt to make the boy who lived laugh. "We could always tickle you to cheer you up," he jokes

"Tickle? What's that," Harry asks, confusedly

Fred did a double take. "Tickling?" He asks, flabbergasted

"I haven't heard of it," Harry's innocent little voice could turn anyone in to a tickle monster, never mind the fact he is asking what it is, and two people who are prone to tickle monster tendencies already can feel it gearing up

"Why don't we show you," Fred smirks, pinning Harry down gently, knowing he and his brother had the same idea

"I-what?" Harry looks up at them, slightly confused and mostly very afraid at how he just got pinned. George smirks and wiggles his fingers at Harry. "Ready?"

Harry isn't sure why, but the wiggling fingers make him feel really weird. It gives him a tingling in his little tummy, and he looks at George innocently

George immediately presses in to Harry's sides, squeezing and wriggling in

"Hehehehe what's thahahahat," Harry giggles adorably, face scrunching up in his squeaks

Fred coos, "So The Boy Who Lived is ticklish? How cute,"

Harry gets a small blush across his cheeks at that, squirming around time try and get away from the fingers pressing in and wriggling in his sides. "Stahahahahap!" He laughs, though he actually thinks this is quite fun

"Stop in your sides? Okay, how about here," George smirkd and goes up the ribs, "Do you know how many ribs there are?"

"Uh-uhuhm," Harry tries to think, but just the fingers resting at his ribs is making him squirm

"Let's count, one, two," George tickles each individual rib, smirking. He knows how much this kills his younger siblings, and expects the same from Harry, who is honestly becoming like a little brother now

"WahaHAHAHAHAIT!" Harry squeals, kicking his feet and pulling at his hands to push George away, but Fred's hands were not budging

"Wait for what, Harry?" Fred laughs, "Don't you want to know how many ribs you have?"

"SOHOHOHOHOMEWHERE EHEHEHEHELSE!" Harry cries in laughter

George grins, assuming that that is Harry's tickle spot, and going in to Harry's belly, thinking h th at will be a break for him

But Harry just goes wide eyed, squealing loudly, "AHHHH!" At the fingers mercilessly getting his belly

Fred grins, "I think we just landed on your tickle spot," cooing at how cute that is

"WHAHAHAHATS THAHAHAHAT, I-EHEHEHEHE!" Harry squeals, not being able to form coherent sentences anymore

"Ha, what? I don't understand you," George smirks, slipping underneath the shirt and pinching at Harry's tummy. "I am getting kind of hungry,"

Fred nearly laughed. What a mean thing to do to someone who has never been tickled before

"Go eheheheheat then," Harry says, having no idea what is about to happen his poor tummy

"Trust me, I'm going to," George smirks, pulling Harry's shirt up and leaning down, blowing a raspberry on to Harry's belly

This is what really got Harry. He squealed and kicked, desperately pulling at his hands that he knew were never going to get free and twisted his body, trying to escape from George's lips

George smirks, and than blew again, shaking his head this time and not letting up at all

Poor Harry can hardly breathe, and he kept attempting escape though he just had to lay there and take it, it was fun though and got his mind happy again

When George and Fred finally leaned up and let Harry go, they smirk, "That is tickling," they grin

#harry potter tickle #ticklish harry #ticklish harry potter

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bibislut · 4 years

Text

Bitter-Sweet Days (Chapter 4)

Find the entire fic here

Chapter 4

{This chapter contains explicit smut, but also some key things. I have highlighted the beginning and end of the explicit content with this >>> _-_-_-_ -_-_-_-_}

21st May 2001

Draco kicked off his shoes as he walked into his apartment, unbuttoning the top of his shirt. He allowed himself a moment of weakness; leaning against the wall to catch his breath and slow his heart after the four flights of stairs up to his apartment. They had never winded him before - but he supposed that’s what dying did to you. It was a warm, sunny, spring afternoon and he was eager to spend it reading on his balcony.

The morning had gone better than expected.

"You're resigning?" Matthews had frowned at him over his glasses.

"That's correct, sir." Draco kept his face neutral.

"But you only finished training last year. You've barely been in the postition 6 months."

"I am aware of that, sir." Draco tried hard not to grind his teeth. How this buffoon was his superior he had no idea.

"Why?"

"I feel that I no longer suit this role," and I'd cut my testicles off with a butter knife before I spend my last months working for you.

Draco held up a hand to stop him from speaking. "I've cleared my desk. I'll take my leave as effective immediately." He swept out of the room, smoothing down his hair.

Draco ruffled his white hair out of his eyes and hung up his suit jacket. The sound of a muggle ice cream can sounded below, the playful tune ringing out. A wonderful idea popped into his head.

He walked into the living room, clicking his teeth. "Lady? Where are you girl?"

He reached into a cabinet and pulled out some treats. The rustling was all that was needed for his gorgeous black owl to swoop in from Merlin knows where. She landed on his shoulder and nudged his ear. He reached up and fed her a treat.

"I need you to take a letter for me."

He placed some treats on his desk next to his parchment and she happily hopped over to eat them.

Potter,

I hope you're free. I said we'd do something more low-key next time - how about a canal-side walk and an icecream on me?

Let me know ASAP

He rolled the parchment up and secured it to Lady.

-----

The sight of Potter's flabbergasted face was both adorable and hilarious. He really was easy to read.

"I don't think I've ever seen you so dressed down, Malfoy."

Well, he wasn't wrong. Draco was wearing long denim shorts, canvas shoes, and a white short sleeved button up with his shades tucked into the top. He felt weirdly free without his suits and robes, but he would never admit it.

"Like what you see, Potter?" He smirks, trying his best to appear smug - though Merlin knows if he managed to look anything other than the bundle of nerves he really was..

Merlin's tits. The way Potter licked his lips and returned the smirk, surely it was illegal?!

"More than you realise, Malfoy."

Swooning didn't happen in real life did it? Draco was sure he was about to find out. He cleared his throat and settled a smirk on his face, slowly raking his eyes up and down Potter. He was wearing black denim shorts and trainers, and a red shirt that said "melanin king".

"You don't look too bad yourself Potter, for a tramp that is." He laughed at that, and oh boy, could Draco get used to that sound.

"Fuck off, Malfoy."

"Make me, Potter." Draco held his gaze steadily, every bit the challenge. The darker boy stalked towards him, leaning in close to his ear. Who needed breathing anyway?

"Later," Potter murmured and Draco shivered. Cheeky bastard. He grabbed Draco's arm. "Where to?"

With a crack they disapparated, landing in a small, shaded alley. The sound of splashing water could be heard. Potter took his hand. "Lead the way."

His hand was so warm, all of Potter was. It was like he was fire personified, warming you up, all blazing looks and passion. Draco ached to know whether he brought that fire to the bedroom.

He lead them out of the alley and into the bright sunlight, muttering a skin protection spell as he went because he knew how easily he burnt. They turned the corner to see a stream of clear water, children splashing in it as parents and dogs sat on the grassy banks, eating ice cream and laughing. It looked heavenly.

"Where are we?"

"Bourton-on-the-water, I came here once as a child and was mesmerised by how clear the water was."

Potter smiled and took off, pulling Draco with him. "Come on, let's get some ice cream." He went right up to the store front. "What do you want?"

"Oh, um." Draco peered at the flavours through the glass. "I'll have mint-choc chip, please." He smiled at the server.

"Make that two," Harry said as he pulled out his wallet. Draco smacked his hands away.

"I said I'd get it, you pillock." He pulled out his own wallet as Potter snorted.

They paid and made their way to the water.

"Hermione got me the shirt, as a Christmas present," he pointed down at his chest. "We have matching ones," he chuckled.

"Ah yes, Granger," Draco murmured.

"Oi, watch out. She's my best mate."

Draco held his hands up in surrender. "I didn't mean anything about it, oh Mr Saviour," his voice dropped with mockery.

Potter made a funny face and licked at his icecream. "Don't even start, Malfoy."

Draco smirked and put on a high pitch voice. "Oh Merlin! It’s Harry Potter!" he squealed, tapping him on the shoulder. "Can I have you autograph, Harry?" He poked his shoulder repeatedly.

Potter laughed and dropped his ice cream, wrapping his hands around Draco's wrists. Draco tried to pull away but Potter just tightened his grip, and really, his shorts shouldn't be this tight. He stopped struggling and as Potter was about to say something, he pushed him back, knocking the two over with Draco sprawled across him. Potter kept his grip and leaned up to whisper in his ear. "You're dead, Malfoy."

He rolled them over, pinning Draco's hands above his head. Draco could just about hear a small voice over the sound of his heartbeat saying that it was good they'd walked so far along the river - there was only one other person around and he was dozing on a blanket 30 feet away.

Draco lifted his hips, struggling against the hot, firm body of Potter, who had the gall to smirk down at him. They were both panting slightly, and… was Draco hallucinating? Or was that the hard length of The Saviour pressed against his thigh?

His own cock hardened at the thought, and he looked into Potter's endless green eyes to see an excitement that was echoed in his own. He closed his eyes, and with a sharp crack the two landed with a bounce on Draco's bed.

Potter let go of his wrists, looking around. "Are we…?"

"In my bedroom? Yes Potter, we are. On my bed."

"Impressive accuracy, Malfoy."

Draco smirked, wrapping his arms around Potter's neck. It was his turn to lean into his ear. "Just wait until you see what else is impressive."

Potter groaned and placed his lips against Draco's neck, grazing his teeth against his sensitive skin. Merlin, 15 year old Draco would have burst a blood vessel knowing what was about to happen, after spending so many nights in his bed at Hogwarts, fist tight around his cock over the thought of Harry Potter.

"Are we really doing this, Potter?" Draco tugged gently at his hair to pull him up so he could see his face.

"I want to, do you?" He looked down at him.

"I do, I just wonder how much you’ve done with all this," he gestured between the two of them. “Or how much you want to do.”

Potter blushed at his words, looking away. "I mean I’ve done it, slept with a guy, yeah."

"Good." Draco traces his fingers over his face before flipping them over, Potter landing with a gasp. He grinned devilishly. "But do you have experience taking it?"

Potter gasped like a fish. "You're…?"

"A top, Potter? I am, when the mood takes me." Draco ran his thumb over Potter's lips. "And it seems to have taken me now."

Draco watched as Potter gulped, his eyes following the long line of his neck.

"Okay," he cleared his throat. "Okay, Malfoy. Let's see what you've got."

And that was all he needed to hear. Draco kissed him fiercely, running his hands over Potter's top, trailing his fingers over the bare skin where it had ridden up. Potter wrapped his arms around Draco and sat up, Draco straddling his lap as he pulled his top over his head. He ran his fingers over his chest hair before reaching round to scratch his back. Potter hissed into his mouth and Draco felt the noise go straight to his cock.

Potter fumbled with Draco's buttons, practically ripping them off as he tore away his shirt. His hands were so hot on Draco's skin, blazing a trail along his torso. Draco felt his fingers graze over the scars on his chest before Potter pulled away. He looked down at the scars under his hands and cursed.

"Fuck, Malfoy, is that… is that what I did to you?" his voice cracked a little. That night in the bathroom, Potter had scarred him for life, literally. Draco felt no anger about it, he could still remember the horror on Potter's face as Draco fell to the floor in a pool of his own blood. He hadn't meant it, he knew that.

Draco smoothed back the curls away from his forehead, running his own fingers over Harry's scar. He smiled sadly.

"Look at us, huh? Scar head and scar chest…" He chuckled slightly.

"Yeah but that's different, Malfoy. I did that to you!" Draco smacked him lightly on the back of the head and held up his left arm.

"And I have the mark of the guy who did that," he traced his fingers over Potter's scar again, "to you."

The Dark Mark was no longer black, instead looking itself like scar tissue, pink skin winding intricately over Draco's otherwise pale arm.

Draco grabbed Potter's chin and made him look at him. "The past is the past, Potter. Focus on where we are right now."

Potter smirked slightly and looked him over. "You're sitting on my lap."

"And you're about to take my cock up your arse." Draco whispered the words teasingly. Potter visibly shivered at his words and Draco smiled. He kissed him again, much more softly this time, and the two seemed to hum in unison.

_-_-_-_ -_-_-_-_

Draco climbed off his lap and pulled him up until they were both standing, kissing Potter again as he undid the buttons on his shorts. They fell to the floor and Draco palmed his cock through his boxers, feeling it harden further under his touch as Potter panted into his mouth.

"Do you want my mouth around your cock, Potter?" The darker boy moaned loudly at his words.

"Fuck Malfoy, yes."

"Ask me nicely." Draco used his other hand to pull Potter's hair.

"Shit, please," he hissed as Draco gave him a gentle squeeze. "Please suck my cock, Malfoy."

"Since you asked so nicely," Draco smirked and dropped to his knees, pulling Potter's boxers down. He took him into his mouth slowly, licking his length and hollowing his cheeks. He bobbed his head at an almost sinfully slow pace and heard Potter curse again. Draco teased him a few moments longer before coming off his cock with a pop.

Draco stood again and pushed Potter back until the back of his knees hit the bed. He reached into his side drawer and pulled out a pot of lube as Potter crawled backwards onto the bed. He tossed it to him with a wink.

"Touch yourself."

Potter looked like he was about to say something but changed his mind. He unscrewed the lid and dipped a finger in. Draco undid his own shorts and pushed them and his boxers to the floor, kicking them off. He took his cock in his hand and stroked it languidly, watching carefully as Potter spread his legs and traced the puckered point.

He watched as Potter slowly slid his finger in, millimetre by millimetre, with a soft gasp. He got to the knuckle and then began pumping it slowly, his eyes closed and eyebrows knitted together. Draco thought he'd never seen something so beautiful. He watched as Potter pulled it out, slicking up another finger, before pushing the two in with a wince. Draco knelt next to the bed, his head between Potter's legs and kissed his way up his thighs.

"You're doing so well," he whispered and Potter let out a little whimper. Draco watched as he began pumping his fingers a bit faster, panting heavily.

Draco tapped his hand lightly. "Stop."

Potter did as he was told, pulling his fingers out as Draco stood up. He took the lube and spread it over his cock, his heart hammering as he realised what was about to happen. He was about to fuck Harry Potter.

He kissed Potter's chest, then his shoulders, then his neck, and finally his mouth. He looked into his bright green eyes as he lined his cock up. "Are you ready?" Potter held his gaze and nodded.

Draco pushed the head of his cock in and they hissed in unison. He watched Potter's face as he slowly pushed himself further in and almost came right then when he saw his eyes roll back.

"Fuck, more, Malfoy, more."

It was like siren call, the sound of Harry Potter begging him to fuck him. He pushed his cock in further and further until he finally bottomed out. He stilled for a second as he tried to catch his breath. Potter was so tight, and so warm, and fuck, he felt so good.

He thrust gently, moaning with Potter as he picked up his speed. "Shit, Harry."

Potter's eyes flew open and he laughed. "Did you just call me Harry?"

Draco chuckled and leant his forehead against Harry's. "Shut up and let me fuck you."

"I thought you already were-" Draco cut him off with a hard thrust and they both moaned. His pace quickened and became more erratic.

"Come for me, Draco," Harry whispered, and Merlin's tits, who was Draco to say no to that. He fucked him harder, panting, but it was the face Harry was making that tipped him over. The sight of Harry Potter underneath him, dark curls stuck to his forehead, lips parted in ecstasy as he chased his own orgasm, was one Draco knew he would never forget.

"Fuck, Harry!" he shouted, his cum shooting out. Apparently that was all the permission Potter needed, as his own cum spurted between their chests.

They lay panting for a moment, before Draco slid off and curled into Harry's side. Potter slid his arm around him and kissed the top of his head. Is this what heaven felt like?

------

_-_-_-_ -_-_-_-_

Draco must have dozed off, worn out, because when he woke he was alone in his bed, and he could hear clattering in his kitchen. He pulled on a pair of boxers and walked out of his room to find Harry bent over, rummaging through his cupboards. He leant against the doorway with a smirk. "Well isn't this a nice view."

Potter let out a startled shriek and spun around, clutching his chest. Draco had never laughed so hard. "The saviour of the wizarding world folks, acclaimed war veteran," he said between gasps.

Harry pouted and walked towards him, shoving him into the wall. "Don't be mean, Malfoy." He pressed his chest against his.

"I thought you liked me mean," Draco laughed and pecked him on the lips, sliding out from under him. He filled up the kettle. "What were you looking for?"

Harry sat at the counter. "Biscuits."

"All out, I'm afraid." Draco switched it on and pulled out two mugs. "How do you take your tea?"

"Milk, one sugar."

Draco pulled out a paper package and unwrapped it to reveal a half eaten cake. He cut two slices and passed one over. "It's French, my mother sent it over."

Potter took a huge bite, letting out a moan. "Its really good! I've always wanted to go to France."

"You've never been?"

"No, I used to spend a lot of time as a child looking at pictures of it though, the little villages, the Parisian streets. I always wanted to visit the Eiffel tower." Draco watched as Harry's face took on a distant, almost pained look - but before he could say anything he shook his head and smiled at Draco.

Draco poured the water into the cups, stirring. "We should go together, sometime."

Harry smiled. "That would be nice."

Draco passed his mug over and gestured towards the balcony, where streams of dying light were pouring in. "The sun is setting, we should go watch it."

"So romantic." Potter winked at him.

"See, Potter, I don't spend all my time being evil." Draco winked back.

#Draco Malfoy #drarry #harry x draco #Harry Potter #Fic #Smut #bitter-sweet days

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lucidpantone · 4 years

Text

Chapter 3: Visitations

Someone recently asked the tag if Sander and Robbe stayed together forever.

Here’s a fic exploring the journey to get to that answer.

This fic takes place in two simultaneously timelines: the past and the present.

Italics is the Past. If not, it's August 15th at any point in the day I chose to drop you into.

Large line breaks are a new memory.

Read the rest on Ao3.

The concrete stairs are overwhelming.

Sander thought to himself as he ascended them coming to a full stop outside Robbe’s apartment door. His reflection looking back at him. The residue of sundown’s volcanic incandescence was high in the sky creating a mirrored effect on the building. It was one of those ghastly mid century modern blocks that was lathered in a matte high shine finish. Giving the entire building a sensation of reflectivity. Sander disliked these types of buildings. They felt cold and soulless. These were the kind of buildings that Robbe would defend as being functional but completely lacking in any of Belgium’s highly regarded Art Nouveau/Art Deco qualities. Of course it would be Sander’s luck that this building’s heinous exterior would be the thing that would make him recognize that he was on the right street about to knock on the right door.

Sander had only been to Robbe’s Brussels apartment once before when Robbe moved into it almost a year and a half ago. He hadn’t seen Robbe since he had checked himself out of the hospital and Robbe had driven him home. Sander was somewhat aware of Robbe’s schedule due to the frequency of his texts over the last couple months but he hadn’t told Robbe he was coming. He wanted to catch Robbe off guard. Lessen the possibility of allowing him to gather any of his usual armor to barricade himself from Sander’s charm. After Sander’s hospital stint he knew he had made a mistake. He had allowed himself to believe a false narrative that he and Robbe weren’t perfectly crafted for each other. That they both hadn’t found a way to defy the gods and find one another. During his darkest days Robbe would show up ardently. Journeying between south and north to come spend his time by Sander’s side. During their time apart Sander was certain that a fracture would have formed. A crevasse so large that it would have cordon off each of them to their respective lives never allowing them to leap across the barrier but Sander was wrong.

During Sander’s hospital stay he caught a virus that germinated from within an undeniable appetite for Robbe. This sickness was a contagion, a gnome sequenced strait into Sander’s DNA. An ailment that percolated beyond marrow-deep, an essential function of the body. It caused a mutation in Sander’s mental state; he’d sit and sketch just Robbe all day long something he had long stopped doing. He would anticipate Robbe bursting through the door in his work clothes, kicking off his loafer, tearing off his shirt and tie.Unapologetically changing into whichever one of Sander’s t-shirt he could find rambling on about the days occurrences making himself completely comfortable in Sander’s orbit. Sander would just watch him take notes of all of Robbe’s beautiful idiosyncrasies, the way he would tilt his head from side to side whenever he lost his train of thought, the way his eyes followed Sander’s hand when he scooped his hair onto to one side, the high pitched giggle that would generate from the back of his throat whenever Sander teased him or he was slightly embarrassed, but also the other side.

You see Robbe had an innate ability. Anytime any medical staff entered their bubble he could morph from his typical bambi-eyed self into a calculated tactician operating under a didactic agenda of inquisition readily observant of negative evaluations concerning Sander’s mental health or the need to further medicate him. It always took Sander aback when he saw this side of Robbe he could be so detached, frigid, coupled with a spikey disposition. This side of Robbe’s was one of the few things he never made public something he reserved only for Sander, only for the things he was most passionate about, the things he wanted to keep safe. Over the years Robbe had surmounted a vast amount of experience when it came to how medical professionals treated the people he loved. Between his mother and Sander’s treatments Robbe had become a battle hardened mutt who’d survived dogfight after dogfight. If he ever sensed your judgement or mistreatment of Sander he could be vicious, react like a rabid animal ready to evasicarate you. Sander’s touch being one of the only things that could stabilize him. Bring him back to himself.

On the last night of Sander’s hospital stay. Robbe delivered one of his high octane good boy next door performances that managed to convince the nursing staff to let him stay pass visitation. He knew their time together was coming to an end. He would go back to his daily life in Brussels and Sander to his normal routine. So, Robbe surprised him. Sander’s episode had kept him from attending the annual contemporary art retrospect at Belgium’s Museum of fine art. Sander loved that retrospect he attended it religiously usually with Robbe by his side. So Robbe found a way to bring it to him. He snuck into Sander’s room during his final therapy session and set up a projector and his laptop up to walk through the exhibition virtually. He accompanied their private art show with one of Sander’s Bowie playlist.

“Art, can be really feeble” Robbe sighed out as Sander and him laid on their backs looking up at the ceiling walking through the exhibition.

“What don't you like about it?” Sander pointed his arms towards the work.

“Its a 6 foot gold toothbrush, what is artistic about that?” They both snorted at Robbe’s criticism.

They both hadn’t anticipated the potency of the next work. It crash-landed into them like a ball of fire. It was an image of a fireworks display, but it paused at the exact moment at the end of one of those big celebratory new year’s eve fireworks’ display when they turn the sky into a pantone of colors and lingering stardust creates a mirage-like effect as the fireworks dissolve into themselves. In-turn making the ground underneath you vibrate like some sort of epicenter to a natural disaster. The artist had probably never intended for the viewer of this piece to take it in on their backs, from a ceiling, in a sterile hospital room, but this setting worked. It magnified the piece allowing its luminescence to turn the hospital room’s white walls into a colorful kaleidoscope of radiance. As they lay there staring at the work Sander turned to Robbe who was in a state of hypnosis, completely captivated, and echoed “I love you”. Robbe snapped his cheek towards Sander his beautiful doh eyes gleaming from the stained glass effect the image was transmitting around the room. Without much thought Sander took Robbe’s hand, the one that when clasped together completed the phrase they both had scribbled on their wrist.

Sander had been longing to reach out and kiss Robbe for the past couple of weeks but he was so afraid. Afraid that Robbe wouldn’t kiss him back, that he had truly kicked the habit of their love but he scooted towards him anyway, leaped across the crevasse and closed the gap between them and placed an ever so soft kiss on Robbe’s lips. Robbe stilled for a few seconds, unsure, tentative, questioning the gesture but after a few seconds he didn’t object he accepted Sander’s invitation letting Sander slip his tongue onto his. Amping Sander up as he climbed on top of him and slid his hands under his shirt. Robbe let go of his sobriety that night, let the inertia that surrounded them collapse in on itself and create a vortex. That was the first time Robbe and Sander would sleep together since their separation. The first of the many times that would follow and taint them little by little but in that moment neither of them cared. Robbe and Sander just allowed the rain drops of the fireworks above them melt them into symbiosis.

“Sander what are you doing here?” Robbe inquired as he came hurdling out of the apartment building’s door. Just as Sander was about to buzz in. Before Sander could even respond he noticed a dirty blonde with disheveled hair standing behind Robbe. He felt a flicker of anger for a moment but he managed to divert it and turn on.

“Who’s your little friend Robbe?” Sander struck back with a self assured confidence ignoring Robbe’s initial question. Sander didn’t really care who this transient guy was he just didn’t want to miss the opportunity to make Robbe pay.

“This is David”, Robbe said sounding a bit apprehensive.

Sander waited for Robbe to introduce him but when he didn’t so he took it upon himself to do the honors.

“Sander”

He extended his hand out to David. Taking notice of the guy’s icy blue eyes the only thing memorable about him.

Robbe interjected himself into their salutations.

“This is my fri--” Robbe wasn’t fast.

“Am his ex, ya know the love of his life, center of his universe, the one.” Sander really emphasized the last part as he delivered his schtick in his most casual fuck boy tone.

Robbe’s jaw dropped.

Sander had Robbe exactly where we wanted him with a cocksure grin painted across his face. Daring Robbe to say something to him.

Robbe didn’t react fast enough.

“So where’s that accent from David? Doesn’t sound local?”

The poor guy clearly confused and a bit flabbergasted by these odd exchanges between exes. Fumbled out an answer.

“Berlin”

“Oh I loooove Berlin. Robbe and I went to this sex show out there once where this girl was sho…….”

“That’s enough” Robbe cut him off in a matter of fact tone.

Sander was clearly posturing now. Enjoying every minute of this transaction.

“Robbe aren’t you gonna let me finish my story?” Sander pouted back at him.

“Come now” Robbe grabbed his date by the arm and dragged him away.

Sander was just hotshotting now and yelled out to Robbe, “That’s what you said. Bye David”.

Robbe looked back at Sander and threw him an are you kidding me look.

Sander started counting out loud. He gave Robbe 90 seconds, tops.

“69, 70, 71, 72……. Ah there you are?”

“What The Fock Sander” Robbe let out in frustration but also with a tinge of glee behind his voice.

Sander was resting with his back against the doorway with one knee up and his foot up against the wall.

“What?” Sander shrugged his shoulders with a deadpan expression acting like he was utterly confused as to what he had done wrong.

“Your unbelievable, you know that?” Robbe shook his head from side to side as he walked towards him with his head down trying to hide the smile on his face.

“I wonder if he’ll call you?” Sander was clearly gloating now with a wicked grin across his face as Robbe opened the door.

Whatever game he had initiated he had most certainly won.

“Didn’t realize you were into that whole mopey plant lover vibe though.”

Robbe gave him a smart ass remark, “I dated you for 5 years didn’t I?”.

“Touche, touche” Sander wagged his finger in Robbe’s face.

“But it was actually almost 6 Robin” Sander corrected him as he booped Robbe’s nose while he walked past him and entered the apartment building.

As they walked into Robbe’s apartment. Robbe put his fingers in his ears in anticipation.

Sander took his right hand to his mouth placing his thumb and index finger between his lips and pursed out a deafening high pitch whistle.

All of sudden the clank of a bell began to approach them. Bowie had come to Sander on command.

“My boy!” Sander picked up that damn cat and smothered him all over his face. Worshipping him. The cat evidently loving every minute of it. Purring to no end.

Robbe walked over to the fridge and grabbed them a couple of beers. He was about to hand one over to Sander who was holding Bowie up high above his shoulders like a baby when he paused. One of his eyebrows rising towards Robbe’s direction.

“Have you..”

Robbe finished Sander’s sentence as he took a sip of his beer. “Been feeding him the grain-free stuff?”

Robbe nodded.

“He feels heavier”

“Are you sure it’s…?” Sander probed.

“One third of a cup? Yeah. Also, can you not say that out loud? Not in front of the kid, he’s sensitive.” Robbe jokingly reprimanded Sander for commenting on their bowie’s weight.

Sander gave the cat one final smooch and then put him down on the ground. Finally taking that beer off Robbe’s hand.

The inside of Robbe’s apartment had one of those open plan layouts that was situated from right to left. Kitchen, open plan middle space which housed a dining table and living room. It had the icky new build vibe that Sander hated.

Sander examined the apartment with his eyes and looked back at Robbe who was leaning against his dining table staring at him trying to decipher what Sander would say next.

Sander had almost forgotten why he had even come here and now that his whole plan went awry. He felt a little exposed as he had no real reason to be there.

“So….” Robbe egged on the conversation. His eyes shifting back and forth.

Trying to get Sander to participate but Robbe was so good at sensing Sander’s feelings. You’d swear that Sander had little thought bubbles protruding above his head storytelling his internal narrative for Robbe’s personal consumption.

“I know why you’re here?” Robbe finally said. Sounding a bit illusive.

“Oh yeah” Sander asked inquisitively.

“Why am I here?”

“You came here to do that thing we always do” Robbe said as he made a come here gesture with his hands.

Sander broke out a warm smile. Typical Robbe always saving him. Protecting him.

Sander walk towards Robbe. Placing his beer on the table behind him. He then placed both of his hands on each of Robbe 's shoulders and pressed their foreheads together as a sign of thanks for what Robbe had just done.

Pulling back and finally saying to Robbe.

“Okay, but no subtitles this time. Promise?” Sander demanded.

“Sanderrrrr” Robbe whined.

“What is it with you and all that foreign shit.We end up watching tv shows in 7 different languages” Sander jokingly scoffed at Robbe.

“What’s wrong with that?” Robbe asked offended. Thinking doesn’t everyone do that.

“Come” Sander said turning his body to face away from Robbe. Signaling Robbe to get on his back he was going to carry him to the couch.

Robbe jumped on recalling in his mind how many times they had done this exact thing. In the years that Robbe and Sander had been together they had formed their own traditions. When Sander was hospitalized or at home not feeling very well he would lay in Robbe’s arms in bed or on the couch and just marathon shows for hours. It was strange because any other time Sander wasn’t much of a TV watcher but in Robbe’s mind those moments were some of the best of their relationship. They would just lay together for hours. Robbe would just grip Sander so hard he practically left bruises on Sander’s arms but Sander would still have to remind him to hold him tighter and nuzzle himself even deeper into Robbe’s embrace.

“Where’s your watch?” Robbe picked up his head off Sander’s shoulder to respond.

“Oh my watch broke. I think it’s the battery or something. I needed a new one anyways.”

“Do you still have it? Sander asked as they sat down on the couch together.

“I can fix it for you” Sander was always the handy one in their relationship.

“You don’t have to do that. It’s old. Just let it go.”

“No come on. I want to. I can bring it back to life for you” Sander said as he gestured spooky fingers.

“What's going on up here?” Robbe twirled his fingers towards Sander’s hair.

“What you don’t like my platinum tips with two inch roots?” Robbe leaned over towards Sander and sweetly rustled his overgrown hair.

This touch of intimacy spurred Sander onto his next thought. He grabbed onto Robbe’s wrist as he began drawing it back from his head and asked.

“Maybe you could dye it for me tomorrow?” His focus shifted downward. As to not draw too much attention as to what he was implying.

There was a pause from Robbe. An acknowledgement of the invisible contract Sander was handing over to him requesting some sort of temporal permanence.

“Only if you cook dinner the night after?” Robbe responded back.

Sander looked up at him with an adolescent grin and leaned in and gave Robbe the most innocent peck on the lips. There was no intent behind it aside from a simple thank you.

“Are you hungry?” Robbe asked.

“I could eat”

“Are you in the mood for anything specific? Italian, French, Greek?”

“Doesn’t matter” Sander titled his head towards Robbe direction. Tacking on.

“I eat everything”

“Everything” Robbe repeated in a sultry voice.

“Yeah everything” Sander spoke onto Robbe’s lips. This kiss, not so innocent.

“Seriously stop…order please. I am starving” Robbe pushed Sander off him in a playful manner.

Sander took out his phone to start ordering but before he did Robbe grabbed him and twirled him around on the couch and brought Sander’s back up against his chest. positioning his arm around Sander's chest. Sander placed a small kiss on the base of Robbe’s thumb and continued on ordering.

“Anything but french” Robbe said as he placed his chin atop Sander’s head.

“You know how I feel about french” Robbe added as he placed another kiss on Sander’s temple.

Finally closing out the dinner conversation with “Don’t forget something sweet for dessert”.

“Something yummy,” Sander said playfully.

“Yeah, something yummy” Robbe toyed back as he pulled Sander tighter into his arms.

****************************************************************************************** Salivating...

The silkiest organ

Swirls of sulfates

Mixing…

As the roof of his mouth pressed onto the demerara. Brandishing it’s sugary topcoating onto his enamel.

Relishing it.

“Tasty?” Luc whispered into his ears as he swallowed it down.

“It’s so good” Robbe moaned with a full mouth.

“Don’t forget to go slow.” Luc egged him on.

“I want you to really taste it.”

Luc told his boyfriend. “Is it sweet enough?” Robbe took a big gulp down as confirmation.

“Good, because I wasn’t sure if you would like the raspberry sea salt flavor” Luc quibbed.

Robbe and Lucas(he preferred Luc) had now been dating roughly around 9 months and in that time Robbe was sure Luc had fed him every cake in Belgium and the Netherlands combined.

Luc had one rule, you were only allowed sugar if you burned it off and well Robbe and Luc had found creative ways to work off their glucose consumption.

They hadn’t been together long but they had already established their after sex program. Luc would always bring some decadent treat along for them to share in their post fucked out haze.

Luc was so different from what Robbe had previously experienced. A total skate head with a beach bum swagger composed of a wardrobe of cuffed up light denim, extravagantly printed socks pulled up to his shins, paisley short sleeves shirts which he hardly ever button pass one notch and an array of different colored bucket hats, caps, fedoras and worn down chucks coupled with his signature fur collar denim jacket.

Luc wasn’t an easy breezy type. That wasn’t his style, he was always a little pumped up, boombastic when at his best. Years of living his life on ledges about to drop in into bowls, half pipes or slopes had made him permanently frenetic. He’d learned to meet Robbe in the middle though and give him one slice of cake before he would eventually hijack Robbe’s tranquility and kick him out of bed to hold an impromptu jam session, go skate or find some new concrete hideaway to go vandalize.

Oh and his music taste. There was only one god in Luc’s world, and his name was Marley. BOB MARLEY. Fuck Bowie.

Just kidding, Luc loved Bowie too. He was Robbe’s favourite so he loved anything his boyfriend loved.

If Luc hadn’t impressed Robbe enough during their first meeting well Robbe was not prepared. Luc was a real life wheeler dealer, a bird of prey. He could gnar with the best of them. Play it fast and loose. Go full vertigo. Nothing got Robbe more jacked up then seeing Luc shredding up a storm on his board completely shirtless with his jeans barely hugging his hips and a quarter inch of his boxer’s on display; his washboard abs glistening with sweat. Luc tailspinning through the sky like a stick of dynamite on the path to self destruction.

Luc lived his life like he rode his board. Bitchin fast, at full voltage, bursting with kerosene, no concept of consequences. When his sponsors asked him to ease up on his on the spot celebratory make out sessions with Robbe after his winning runs. He laughed in their face and told them next time he get Robbe to blow him so the kids could get a real show. I mean that was just typical snarky Luc. A real life renegade. Take it or leave it. There was no real way to describe him, a jack of all trades, a real mad hatter, some even called him an artist.

Robbe loved it. Loved him.

Robbe hadn’t realized how much he had missed the familiarity of a known lover. He had gotten so used to the dribs and drabs of affection that Sander schlepped out that he had just sold himself short but Luc was some unexpected pixie prince who blitz in ready to declare Robbe his. No questions asked, stick a fucking fork in it, done, over, schluss.

Luc was uninhibited too. What he felt is what he said. Luc was loyal to the soil and Robbe was his budding flower. The first time he said “I love you” he asked for nothing from Robbe in return. Love wasn’t some sort of payment system for him. Luc told Robbe when you know, you just know. None of that mask your feelings in mystery bullshit. For Robbe it took time but Luc was the catalyst he needed to finally wash away the remnants of his past. He did eventually tell Luc he loved him and he meant it but the experience in itself was surreal. See Robbe had never even considered the possibility that he would fall in love with someone else. Sander basically took Robbe’s heart hostage from a young age and Robbe never looked back but somehow this magpie dutchman with his steely azure eyes, a bucket hat and guitar finally broke through and broke Robbe.

“Baby, you want the last bite?” Luc brought the spoon to Robbe’s mouth.

Robbe shook his head back and forth on Luc’s chest. He was too comfortable, lazily placed atop Luc, straddling him. Luc sitting up against Robbe’s headboard with one hand through Robbe’s hair and the other carefully balancing a porcelain plate and fork. As Luc went to put the plate down on the bedside table he grabbed the little bit of whipped cream left on the plate and rubbed it straight down Robbe’s nose.

“Luc” Robbe whined.

Luc immediately cupped his hands on Robbe’s face and gave Robbe a wet sloppy lick. Clearing the cream off. Stopping at Robbe’s mouth to push the remnants of the cream onto Robbe’s tongue and into him. Robbe took that as signal, intensifying the kiss and started gently thrusting onto Luc’s hips. Luc smiled against Robbe’s mouth but before Robbe could really get lost into his heat. Luc broke the soppy kiss. He was such a tease.

“Have you been thinking about what we talked about?”

Luc flashed those pretty eyes at Robbe. Robbe instantly thinking he needs to stop doing this himself. Stop peering into eyes that have the ability to dissolve him.

“Mmmmmhmmmm”

“And….” Luc coaxed him.

“Don’t you think it's a bit too soon?” Luc placed his hands on Robbe’s hips slightly squeezing them. Assuring him he was listening closely.

“I mean it's only been 9 months” Robbe said in a barely audible whisper.

“No pressure” Luc ran the back of his hands on Robbe’s cheek to ease his visible tension.

“We’ll do whatever you want. I just want to be able to wake up next to you every morning”

“And Bowie?” Robbe added on. Pointing at the black hair cat watching them at the edge of the bed.

“Oh shit” Luc let out.

“I forgot my apartment doesn’t allow pets.”

Robbe’s hands started to feel clammy all of sudden.

“His coming with me or I am not coming.” Robbe stated harshly in deviance.

Luc laughed at Robbe’s reply finding it a bit dramatic but then he realized Robbe was dead serious. If the cat wasn’t welcomed, he wasn’t coming.

“Ok hear me out. You move to Amsterdam and we look for a new place and come get Bowie. Do you know anyone that could watch him for a month or two?”

Yeah, Robbe knew someone….

“Is he doing better with you?” Robbe enquired tentatively. Knowing this was a sore subject.

“Oh you mean has Bowie tried to scratch my eyes out, bite my fingers off or even let me remotely close to him lately” He let out sarcastically. Knowing damn well that fur ball hated the living shit out of him. He honestly didn’t know why, pets usually loved him but this one seemed to be planning his demise.

“Anyways” Luc said in an attempt to break up the awkwardness. “Sesh time” He picked Robbe off him and headed towards their acoustic guitars resting in the corner of Robbe’s bedroom.

“I finally learned the cords” Luc let out with excitement.

“Took you long enough. I've been waiting.”

Luc hands Robbe his classic mahogany finish Martin. While Luc sports a zestier walnut burl Yamaha.

“Calling rhythm” Robbe declared as he tuned his guitar.

Luc raises his eyebrows in acceptance. Handing Robbe a black pick.

Robbe moves towards the middle of the bed to give Luc room to hop on. They sat across from one another looking at each other.

“Tempo is 1 and a 2 and a 3……” Robbe tells Luc.

Robbe presses his left fingers on the frets. His right fingers holding the pick and he mouths to Luc E add 9 and begins to strum down, up down down, up down up, down, up down down.

Luc picks up Robbe’s tune and Robbe switches out to the rhythm.

Luc continous to play the intro.

Robbe starts to move through some bar chords switching from E to G causing the steel cords to whine out gently as Robbe tabs on them through his cord changes.

Robbe and Luc sit there bobbing their heads up and down as they get lost in the music.

Luc starts to sing the intro “Here comes the story of a hurricane”

Cord change [Robbe]

The music begins to ascend, “Cyclone…...You’re on your own”.

The strumming is starting to get heavier now.

Robbe slides his hand down the neck of his guitar to hit some high G’s.

His eyes are closed now. He knows this part by heart. His working the pocket.

Both men are fully swaying now. In the groove.

Luc sings the chorus. The part everyone knows.

“It was bad and I was unable to pull him inside”

Cord change [Robbe]

They’re at the bridge now.

The strumming intensifies as they hit the crescendo.

Robbe is slumped over his guitar shredding it out. Aggressively bobbing with eyes closed.

This next lyric is Luc’s favourite. He sings it directly to Robbe. Robbe opens his eyes to watch him deliver it to him.

“I could never hate you. Even If I tried”

This part is all Robbe, the pick solo.

The music is just flowing out of them now. The pace starts descending.

Luc starts playing a little slap stick to wrap it up.

Robbe is taking the melody home.

Both men are leaning so far back their feet are off the bed as they strum it out.

There shoulders moving in syncopation with one another.

Robbe winds it down slowly. Not wanting to let go of the moment.

But eventually he stops and lets the music go out.

Both men look up and giggle at each other in perfect harmony and share a kiss.

“I love you” Luc says as he takes hold of Robbe’s chin and kisses him again.

“Love you too” Robbe tells him back.

As they pull away from each other. Luc whisper’s in Robbe ear.

“I am so happy that I found you”

Robbe shudders. Lightning strikes him. An overwhelming nausea overcoming him. His body stiffens.

“Are you okay?” Luc asks him.

Robbe hops out of bed muttering something about feeding Bowie knowing that he needs to get out of room.

He runs to his kitchen sink. His body violently letting out a dry heave over the sink but nothing comes up. It's just a reaction.

He hovers over the sink for a few seconds splashing water on his face. Trying to gather himself.

He feels something massage his arm. He jumps back and realizes it's just Bowie nuzzling him. His aqueducts begin to moisten so he squeezes his eyes shut and looks up at the ceiling. Attempting to will everything away but he sees it, the white studio with the pictures on the walls. His breathing starts to even out after a minute or two.

He opens his eyes, feeling somewhat composed. Thinking he managed to keep it all at bay but little did he know the rot within had begun to permeate, a contagion that was seeping into every orifice of his soul.

******************************************************************************************

Is this where the living come to meet their death?

In the gullies of the earth.

Where tranches of unclaimed dukedoms exist awaiting reanimation.

Oxygenless.

Still.

The soulful, arms up, reacting to the vastness in complete surrender.

Robbe feels the pressure, he moves slowly.

Unable to make out anything. In dire need to escape his holdings.

The laws of thermodynamics pushing him towards the surface.

He finally gives in. Contracting his body and propelling himself vertically upwards. Like a jellyfish moving through the ocean currents. His lungs thanking him as he reappears from his watery submersion.

Robbe’s vision takes a moment to adjust. Still in disbelief that he let Sander talk him into one of his usual clandestine expeditions of break-ins, yacht clubs and late night canal swims.

Robbe wipes the back of his hands against his eyes in attempts to wipe off the condensation clinging onto him. He can’t see anything. Its pitch black, and the canal provides no lighting. All he can see is the deck lights in the distance. Where he abandoned his clothing and all of his usual utilities.

“Sander!” He screams out in panic.

Nothing.

Silence.

Robbe starts to paddle towards the deck. He's been in the water for what feels like eternity. He’s exhausted so he twists his body towards the sky and begins to backstroke.

The moonlight is shining down on him.

He paddles lightly. Tiny waves billowing around his body. The stars surveillance comforting him.

Robbe absorbs the cosmos above him. His mind blank, calm, reassured. A baptism of the mind via compound elements.

Suddenly a creature from the bowels of the riverbed pulls him under.

He turns to face it.

Robbe and Sander are swimming across from one another. Face to face, the water encasing them. Sander swims over to Robbe. He goes to kiss him but before he can lean in, Robbe pulls up.

Ripples crack through to the surface as both men reemerge.

“Still don’t know how to swim?” Sander yells out breathlessly. Struggling to grab enough air to even out his slight panting.

“Still cheating?” Robbe taunts.

Sander paddles over to Robbe. He is so close to Robbe's face he can feel his breath on his cheek.

“Something’s never change”, Sander whispers to Robbe. His eyes glistening in the moonlight.

Like shiny emeralds looking back at him.

But Robbe isn’t swayed so easily by Sander’s charm anymore and responds.

“You know I was foolish once. The kind of kid that was impressed by breaking the law and making out in large bodies of water”

“And what about now?” Sander starts leaning in towards Robbe.

Robbe puts his index finger under Sander’s chin and moves his cheek to the side. Dodging Sander’s advances and says.

“Still foolish, but maybe not so young” Unable to contain a cheeky grin.

Robbe starts to paddle away from Sander. Then he stops, looks back at Sander and tilts his head towards one side and says.

“Come, race you.”

Sander gives him a soft laugh and paddles towards him up for the challenge.

“On the count of 3”

“1, 2 ….”

Before Sander could even get to 3. Robbe starts sprinting towards the deck.

Sander yells out to him.

“Cheater”

It seems so juvenile Robbe thinks but he feels so exposed as he stands on the deck putting his clothes back on in front of Sander. Sander has literally seen Robbe naked hundreds if not thousands of times at this point.

“Stop looking” Robbe slips out coyly. Pulling his jeans up onto his hips.

“Am admiring the view” Sander says with a mischievous smile across his face.

“Come on, hurry up. We need to get home, Bowie needs his dinner.” Robbe checks the time on his watch. It clocks 21:21.

Sander turns around to face the Scheldt canal. His back to Robbe now.

“You know I once heard this story” Sander says. Still facing away from Robbe.

“About two boys and a beach house with a moon just like this one” Sander points up to the sky.

Robbe knows where he is going with this but he doesn’t want to hear it. Not now. Not this story. Not after everything that has happened. This story is off limits.

“Please don’t” Robbe says in a stern voice. Sander turns around to look directly at him. Knowing by the tremor in Robbe’s voice that he has hit a pain point.

“Why?” Sander challenges Robbe, annoyed at his lack of engagement.

“You used to love that story?” Sander adds on.

“I used to love a lot of things” Robbe threw back with venom.

Sander wasn’t amused by Robbe’s comment but he was prepared. He knew this moment was inevitable. So he continued.

“These two boys fell in love at the house by the beach”

“The brown haired skater boy……”

Robbe rushed him, pissed and asked again.

“Stop it, Sander. Just stop it”

Robbe pushed him hard now. Almost making Sander fall off the deck.

“I don’t want to hear your stupid fucking story” Robbe pleaded.

But Sander was relentless. Taking the opportunity to incite Robbe even more.

“Then we had the artist who fell in love with his skater boy.”

Robbe was seething now. An indescribable rage bubbling within him. Sander knew this story was hazardous. It wasn’t meant for retelling unless needed.

But Sander knew how far he could take Robbe until he broke him and he was determined to shatter him into pieces. So he went on with an almost growl in his voice.

“The artist would say that the moonlight was shining down on the skater boy and he knew.….” Sander suddenly charged at Robbe. Cupping his cheeks in his hands but with distinct force. His eyes pierced through Robbe as he slowly queued Robbe into the story while holding his face in his hands, peering down at him and asked.

“What did he know Robbe?”

Sander squeezed his cheeks even harder. It hurt Robbe a little, Sander noticed and lightened his grip up.

“Say it”

Sander’s pupils were fully dilated now. Almost black. It made him look so harsh under the moonlight.

Robbe stayed silent. He didn’t recant the story. He didn’t want to.

Sander was nose to nose with Robbe now. Still holding Robbe’s cheeks in place. Robbe was sure his heart was going tachycardic as Sander said.

“What are you afraid of skater boy? That maybe you’ll speak the story into existence.”

Sander almost violently let go of Robbe making him fall back on himself. Switching up his charm instantly into one of his nonchalant demeanours.

Then he said, “I think it's time to get you home Robbe. You need to feed my cat.”

And now….Now Robbe had had enough and he unleashed.

“He’s not your cat. So don’t come in here thinking you know what's best for him because you don’t. Oh, and just so you know. He hates that fucking diet food you buy him. He likes to be petted upwards not downwards. He sleeps on the right side of the bed because I sleep on the left and I give him half a cup of regular food because one third doesn't cut it anymore. His changed. You don’t know shit about him. You gave him away, you left him, you abandoned him and you have no right to him now.”

Robbe hadn’t realized he was so enraged until a tear rolled down his cheek.

Sander just glared at him, grinding his jaw down. His eyes squinting in a fiery veil Robbe hadn’t seen before. He said nothing as he walked towards Robbe but when they got shoulder to shoulder as he passed him. Sander stopped, looking straight ahead and said.

“I didn’t abandon him. I took him to the only person I knew would protect him.”

Sander walked off into the night. The moonlight shining above them.

******************************************************************************************

“Do we need to protect your scalp?” Genade asked.

“Nah, It's not bleach, it's just hair dye” Sander said.

“I still can’t believe you won’t be a blonde anymore.”

Sander shrugged his shoulders as he checked out his dye job in the mirror.

“Sometimes you just need a change” he said.

“I am thinking of dying my locs too. Maybe purple”

Sander scowled at that statement and shook his head.

“No don’t do purple. I hate purple”

“I love your pink locs. They stand out against your skin. Make you look even more beautiful in the sunshine”.

“Awwwww, thanks baby” Genade pressed a kiss on Sander’s lips.

Genade de Heem was a half dutch/half nigerian hippie fairy with an edge. Sander met her at his tattoo shop's grand opening. Noor had brought her along as her plus one. Sander was instantly infatuated with her. I mean it was hard not to be she was a stunner. She looked like a young Zendaya. A real life ten.

They hadn’t been dating long. It was all still very new but so far she was close to perfect for Sander. She was a wild child like him. A Bowie fan too she even knew all the b-sides. An ink queen with a huge lettering piece on the back of her arms that read Love Is Love. She meant it too. She had no reservations or premeditations about people, life or love. She didn’t push Sander for a label either. She would say, why need a label? When lost souls are meant to be they will find one another across the dunes of life. So they just existed, and they were cool with that.

“Babe you want to go out tonight? Show off my new look” Sander asked.

Genade agreed but added on.

“Let’s make it an early one though. Remember we gotta bake those croissants tomorrow”.

Yeah, she was an amazing cook too.

“Ok ready?” Sander asked as Genade sat in the bedroom waiting.

“Yes, show me” She said.

Sander walked out of his bathroom into the bedroom as a full blown brunette.

Genade squealed.

“You look smoking hot”

Sander rustled his wet brown hair. It was certainly different for him but like he said he needed a change. Needed to “look” more grown up.

“You know what, lets just go out now. I am in the mood” Sander said, hyped up.

The pair got moving and started collecting their shoes and jackets but as Sander put on his signature Black Doc Martens, he thought nah. In tribute to his old hair he was going to pull out the white Doc Martens. He walked over to his bed and got on his hands and knees to peer under it. Those shoes had to be somewhere in this general area.

Finally he found them but as he pulled them out a litter of other shoes came along for the ride. All tangled up via their prospective shoelaces. Sander picked apart his white Doc shoelaces and dropped the rest of the shoes on the ground as he started the usual wiggle and jiggle to get his boots on. He hadn’t even noticed Genude staring at him from the doorway.

“Your so pretty baby” Genude said in the warmest voice.

“Oh yeah come over here and I’ll show you how pretty I can be”

There was the squeal again.

Genude dropped her bag and jacket on the spots and ran towards Sander who was sitting on the edge of the bed but as she sprinted towards him she tripped and dove past the bed. Sander tried to grab her but her hands slipped off his and she crash landed on the other side of the bed alone.

“Ca’va?”

She pushed herself off the floor and signaled to Sander that she was fine just a little embarrassed.

She went to look at what she had slipped on.

On the floor were some old grey vans.

“Stupid shoes!”

“I've never seen you wear these”, Genude stated in a prying fashion. Realizing quickly those didn’t look like Sander’s size.

“I don’t wear them anymore actually. Honestly I should just throw them away.”

As Sander grab the pair of shoes to toss them in the garbage.

Genude stopped him and said, “No keep them, you know how these things go full circle and come back into fashion.”

“They’ll probably be al la mode within the next year or two”. If she only knew.

“If you say so” Sander encouraged her.

“Anyways, lets go, I need a drink”

Genude nodded in consensus.

As Sander headed out the door, he turned back around and kicked the shoes back under the bed.

Forgetting about them for now.

Sending them back into the darkness.

*****************************************************************************************

The clock dials filled up the silence.

Tick …

tock….

Tick…

tock….

It sat above Dr Meyer’s office door.

He would just sit there and passively observe it. The time, passing forward.

He was usually disengaged and uninterested but something felt different today.

His voice pierced through the silence.

“There’s been something lingering” he said with little regard to the allowance of truth he was exposing.

His hands were clammy. So he gripped his fist. Hoping it would provide some sort of comfort.

“When I was younger, I use to let people control me. Influence my thoughts and feelings. Try to tell me what I felt without really listening to me. Or noticing how I was hurting, how I was changing. It made me angry, made me say things I didn’t mean. Hurt the people I cared about."

"It made me think I am never going to find anyone, at least no one who’ll really love me.”

He exhaled.

“But I did find someone and he was great. Perfect even, but I ruined it and now I keep asking myself why?” This was an unusual admittance for him. Sparking a recollection of last night’s happenings and the nights before that.

Laying in the dark.

A bareless ceiling.

Questions left unanswered.

“Are the sleeping pills not working?” Dr Meyer asked.

“Are they having any negative side effects?”

He hated questions like these, probing ones that were an attempt to calculate the durability of your mind. He also really hated the layout of Dr Meyer’s office. It felt like it was intentionally laid out to make you feel like some sort of dance monkey being poked at to divulge some existential secret about your own reality. He was over this session, he wanted it to end. Thank god he told the doctor he would need to leave early today.

“I haven’t been taking them. I mean I have them. It’s just ...I don’t know. There is so many thoughts going on and on...”

He twirled his index fingers around his temples. A depiction of his minds’ instability.

Dr Meyer took note of that comment and wrote it down.

“Could you maybe benefit from some mood stabilizers?”

That question made him anxious. Made him press his palms together and scratch his nails on the surface of his left hand. An adolescent twitch that became an established habit after so many years of over exposure to medical professionals.

“Yeah maybe that could help, but I think before I do that, I should try to find some answers. Take care of something that has been gnawing at me.”

“I could refer you to a more senior colleague if needed. Someone that specializes in sleep disorders.” The doc suggested with a sense of empathy.

“Could you maybe come back at 4pm today?”

He shook his head back and forth and started to get off the couch.

“Sorry doc. I have to go now. I did mention I needed to leave early today. I have to be somewhere at 10am.”

He put his jacket on and looked at his watch.

“And looks like I have 19 minutes to get there now.”

He gave the doc a one hand palm up salute to thank him for his time.

He walked towards the exit and as he turned the door handle Dr Meyer tacked on.

“Oh and Robbe”

“Try to come back at 4. So we can try to help you with the sleeping.”

Robbe gave the doc a lackluster sign of acknowledgement.

He left quickly.

Ran out the office, and into the daylight.

The autumn leaves scattered all across the pavement on his route to work.

#wtfock #wtfam #sobbe #sander driesen #robbe ijzermans

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ateezfix · 5 years

Text

If love and hate are the same thing, I love you.

Hi! So, this is basically my first fic. I hope you enjoy!

Hongjoong x (F) Reader

Warnings: Slight angst?, childhood bully turned lover, bad wordsss, violence (just a slap)

You tried your hardest to be kind to everyone you met. But, some people really tested you. Especially the one who hasn’t gotten off your ass since 2nd grade. Everyday you had to deal with him taking your things or following you around while whispering hateful things to you.

“Nice of you to finally come out of the house today, ugly.” Hongjoong said running to catch up with you.

“Fuck off, will you? I’m not in the mood for your hateful antics. I’m already late for class.” You said pushing him out of your path.

You could never understand why he hated you as much as he did. You would think a childhood spent together would bring you closer as friends, but no. With every passing day, his hatred seemed to only grow. In the past, he would pull on your pigtails and steal your toys. Now, he calls you “slut” and makes sure the whole college knows what a “pig” you are. Honestly, you never had a huge reaction to it. All boys are like this, is what you used to tell yourself. You never once let him get a reaction out of you. Well, except for today.

“Jeez. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I’m sure it’s cuz some guy dumped your sorry ass last night, huh?” He said following close behind you.

“Jesus Christ! Don’t you have classes to go to, or at least some bitch to fuck??? Leave me the fuck alone!” You snapped, finally letting your anger get the best of you. “Everyday I have dealt with your bullshit since elementary school! Just let me have one good day, please! I just don’t understand why you hate me so much.” You couldn’t even stop yourself before you slapped him in the face.

He held his cheek. He didn’t respond for what seemed like forever. He hadn’t even noticed that you stormed away from him. Had he really ruined your days that much? Why was he such a dick to you? It kinda made him feel bad seeing you like this.

No.

He didn’t care, he hasn’t since he met you in 2nd grade. Hongjoong hated you. He told himself that he hated you more than anything in this world. He hated the way your smile lit up the room. He hated how your voice sounded like honey. He hated every inch of your being. There’s no way that he could ever care about you... right?

Hongjoong didn’t even bother going to class that day. He couldn’t stand to see your tear stained face, knowing that he’s the reason behind those tears.

As he stared at his dorm room ceiling, he couldn’t help but let his thoughts take over.

I can see why she hates me. I’ve only caused her pain. Y/n doesn’t deserve this, she has only ever been kind to me. Even after almost 14 years, she hasn’t once told me to leave her alone. She tried to be my friend multiple times, but I’m the dumbass who pushed her away. The stupid one who bullied her whole life. I should apologize-

Bzzz bzzz bzzz

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone. He picked it up and looked at the dimmed screen. His eyes met the series of text messages you sent him.

3:27 I’m so sorry for snapping at you this morning

3:28 I shouldn’t have let you get to me that much. I normally don’t... it’s just that you were right. I did get dumped. Well, stood up actually.

3:29 That’s no excuse for what I did though. I just wanted to apologize for yelling and slapping you. That wasn’t right of me.

His eyes widened. Only you would apologize for doing something that he deserved. He started typing.

...

He couldn’t think of the right thing to say. Hongjoong wanted to apologize too. But, how could he when he’s spent a lifetime making your life a living hell.

3:35 you don’t have to answer me. I know what I did was wrong. Just please accept my apology at least...

He couldn’t take hurting you anymore. He just wanted to see you happy... or to at least have you not hate him as much as you did.

3:37 meet me at Mom and Pop’s Cafe

He sat at one of the tables in the far corner waiting your you. His head shot up with every person that walked in. Maybe this wasn’t the right choice. He should’ve just said it was fine. Maybe he-

His thoughts got interrupted by you once again.

You sat down across from him. You expected him to call you names or to say rude things. But, he didn’t...

“I’m really sorry”

You expected that to be the last thing to come out of his mouth. You couldn’t help but be shocked, “uhhh I’m sorry what??”

He shifted in his seat, awkwardness washing over him, “I’m sorry for being an asshole to you. I don’t know why I’ve always been so mean, you’ve never deserved it. When you walked into school on the first day, I noticed your light and how many people wanted to be your friend right away. I have to admit I did too.”

He stopped for a second and looked into your eyes before continuing, “I just didn’t know how to get your attention, so I started bullying you. I knew it was wrong, but I was a stupid little boy.”

“Why didn’t you stop then? Why are you still a dick to me?” You choked out, trying your hardest to hold back your tears.

Hongjoong lowered his head, his pale red hair falling him his face, not being able to bear the sight of you in more pain, “For years, I told myself that the reason I thought about you all the time was because I hated you. So, it became a habit. I thought that the only way I would ever get close to you was if I was mean. I know it’s sick, but that’s why I’ve done it for so long. I’ve just realized that I’ve only ever wanted to be close to you. As we grew up, I started seeing you differently and that scared the shit out of me to be honest. When you would smile, I would find myself blushing. Or when you would look at me when I’d tease you, I could feel my heart beat faster. I... I’m sorry, Y/n. I really am. I understand why you hate me and you have every right to. But, seeing how much I hurt you made me understand all of my feelings. It made me hate myself for letting this go on for so long.”

Tears were running down your face now. He looked up for the first time since he started talking and panicked. He reached over the table and wiped your tears, “please don’t cry... I don’t want to you to hurt anymore than you already have. I don’t want to hurt you...”

A tear streamed down Hongjoong’s face as you got ahold of yourself. You never actually seen him show this kind of emotion before. You held his hand as he wiped your tears.

“Hongjoong, you’re saying that this whole time, you’ve been up my ass because you liked me?” You said letting go of his hand.

He looked away awkwardly rubbing his neck, “yeah... I just never knew how to tell you.”

“You made my life miserable!” You laughed causing him flick his eyes to you at your sudden sound, “if you would’ve told me sooner, we could’ve worked this whole love/hate complex out.”

He was absolutely flabbergasted, “how could you ever forgive me for saying and doing those mean things? I don’t deserve to even get to try. I’ve hurt you so bad already...”

You smiled, “yeah you don’t. But, I would much rather have you genuinely show me how much you like me than have you bully me. So, I’m willing to start this relationship over, for my sanity’s sake. Plus, I’m not the type of person to hold on to things, especially after you apologize for them. But, please don’t call me those mean names anymore. I would greatly appreciate it.”

“Y/n, I don’t know what to say...” Hongjoong whispered, barely loud enough for you to hear.

You took his hand and placed a kiss upon his knuckles, “maybe if you weren’t so dense, you would’ve seen that I had the biggest crush on you in elementary.”

His jaw dropped. You like him back?? Or at least did?

“You can’t be serious, “ Hongjoong stated, “there’s no way in hell. I was so mean to you.”

“But, you were the only boy who gave me attention back then. So, of course I liked you.” You laughed.

“You really are an angel in disguise, huh? Since you said that we can start over, would you mind if I treated you to dinner.” He said, squeezing your hand.

Smiling, you said, “I would love to, Hongjoong.”

#ateez #hongjoong #kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #atiny #ateez smut #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #ateez san #choi mingi #wooyoung #jongho #hongjoong x reader

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parchmints · 6 years

Text

Connect-the-Dot Pictures

Relationship: Lance & Lance’s Father Words: 1,917 Rating: G Warnings: None Notes: This was my submission for @lancitozine ! My section assignment was “Pre-Garrison/Cuba” so I wrote little six-year-old Lance bonding with his dad :’)

Fic Summary:

When Lance is six-years-old, his father takes him stargazing...

[Read on Ao3]

Connect-the-Dot Pictures

Lance pressed his nose against the cold window of his family’s well-loved Buick. Outside, the tall grasses and worn fences of rural Cárdenas blurred into a hazy ocean lit only by the ebbing headlights of the car.

The night was so steeped in inky blackness that Lance felt like he was in a rocketship floating through space, instead of riding in the backseat of a classic, cobalt-colored car. The idea made the six-year-old boy’s lips tug into the bright, gap-toothed smile that his mother would regularly coo over.

“Sit back, mijo! And put your seatbelt on. That’s not safe,” Lance’s father said, flicking his eyes to the rear-view mirror. Lance, unable to ever defy the strong, stern voice of his father, did what he was told.

“Yes, Papá,” Lance said, clicking the tongue of his seatbelt into the buckle, then looking back out the window.

“Thank you,” his father called.

Lance watched the stars blur past in wonder and decided he liked the sky. He liked looking at it, and he liked drawing the sun and the moon when his big sister let him borrow her crayons. Remembering the moon, he wanted to get a glimpse but he couldn’t see it out of any of the windows.

“Papá, where’s the moon?”

“The moon is in the sky. You know that.”

“But I can’t see it. Is the moon hiding?” Lance asked seriously, looking out the windows on either side of him to try and find a sliver of glowing white.

His father let out a rumbling chuckle and looked back into the rear-view mirror with crinkled eyes.

“Yes. Every month, the moon likes to hide behind a shadow, but she’s still there.”

“Oh.”

Lance looked up through the window again and lost himself in the whooshing of the sky overhead, wanting to swim in it. He wondered if he could play a game of hide-and-seek with the moon and maybe, if he found her, she would come back out.

“Where are we going?” Lance asked, his voice soft and muddy.

“Actually, I have a question for you first.”

“You do?”

“Yes. Lance, can you tell me why you’ve been interrupting Profesora Diaz in class? She told your mamá that you’re distracting the other students.”

For several moments, the car was silent except for the soft rumbling of the car driving over asphalt.

“Am I in trouble?” Lance asked in a small voice.

“No, not if you tell me the truth. Why are you interrupting class?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Well, think. Why do you want to do it if your profe says she doesn’t like it and asks you to stop?” Lance’s father asked and Lance squirmed in his seat. His father said he wasn’t in trouble, but it felt like he was in trouble.

“Um, it’s fun.”

“It’s fun disobeying your profesora, mijo? Is it fun making her day harder?”

Lance winced and suddenly felt very guilty. He liked his profe a lot and he didn’t want to cause her trouble.

“No.”

“Then, why is it fun?”

Soft silence again.

“The other kids laugh when I make jokes and fart noises, papá. They all look at me.”

“Ah, I see,” his father said, taking a hard right onto a dirt road.

“Papá, where are we going?” Lance asked again. His father had only announced that they were going to spend some one-on-one time together an hour ago, and Lance so rarely got time alone with his father that he didn’t bother to ask questions. Instead, he leaped at the chance to go on a night drive with him and relished the confused looks of his older siblings as he was ushered out the door after dinner.

“You’ll see. We’re almost there.”

Within a few minutes’ drive of bumpy terrain, Lance’s father parked the car. Excited to see their destination, Lance unbuckled his seat belt and groped for the door handle.

“Do you need help?” his father asked, already halfway out of the car.

“Nuh uh. I can do it!” Lance said, his small hands already finding the door handle. With his brow furrowed and cheeks puffed, he shoved against the heavy door until it opened enough for him to drop out.

Lance trotted over to his father, who was rummaging in the trunk of the car, and grabbed his pant leg to let him know he was there.

“Mijo, are you cold?” Lance’s father asked, looking down at him. The humid, Cuban night air was never very cold, but now that his father brought it to his attention, his blue rocket t-shirt wasn’t going to cut it. He nodded his head and his father threw a piece of olive green fabric at him.

“Here, Luís left his jacket in the car. Put it on and make sure you shut your door.”

Lance’s father went back to the trunk and pulled out a sleeping bag as Lance inspected the article thrown to him. He grinned as he realized it was his eldest brother’s super cool, super grown-up green hoodie. He put it on, but it completely engulfed him as the hem reached his knees and the sleeves flopped uselessly over his hands. He loved it.

He ran back to the car door to shut it and once he did, his father was right behind him holding a rolled up sleeping bag, a thermos, and a lit flashlight.

“This way,” his father said, gesturing ahead. Lance followed him and saw that they were walking towards a grassy hill that stood out among the mostly flat land.

Together they trekked up the hill until they reached the top and Lance’s father put down the supplies he’d been carrying. He unrolled and unzipped the sleeping bag to lay it on the ground and then sat cross-legged on it, the thermos and flashlight next to him.

“Sit next to me, Lance,” his father said, patting the spot by his side and Lance quickly obliged. His father grabbed the thermos, opened it, and poured a hot, dark liquid into the cap-cup. The liquid had a thick, sweet smell and Lance’s face lit up once he realized what his father had brought.

“Is that hot chocolate?!”

Lance’s father chuckled and nodded.

“Yeah!!” Lance shouted as his father handed him the cup.

“Blow on it, it’s hot.”

“Okay,” Lance mumbled before blowing into the cup, then taking a sip. His chest warmed as the drink slid down his throat and he couldn’t help but smile up at his father.

“Is it good?” his father asked, returning the smile.

“Mm-hm!”

“What do you say?”

“Thank you, Papá!”

“That’s right. You have to thank your mamá when we get back too. She made it for us.”

“I will.”

They sat quietly for a couple of moments, enjoying the cool night air and the rare treat of hot chocolate before Lance’s father broke the silence.

“Lance, did you know your papá was just like you?”

Lance looked up at him and tilted his head in confusion.

“Like me?”

“Yep, I was the youngest of six, so I had lots of big brothers and sisters—just like you, mijo.”

“But Papá, you’re so old!” Lance said with wide eyes and his father let out a bark of laughter.

“That’s true, but my siblings are even older.”

“They must be like a bajillion years old!”

“Not quite, but almost,” Lance’s father said with another laugh, “but, y’know, sometimes being the baby of the family was hard. Sometimes I felt like my mamá and papá didn’t have time for me. Sometimes I felt like I was invisible. Sometimes I would act out in class because of it.”

“Really?” Lance asked, flabbergasted.

“Mm-hm. Do you feel that way, mijo?” his father asked, looking down at him. Lance stared at him for several seconds with wide eyes and then looked down at his hot chocolate.

“Sometimes.”

Lance’s father nodded, “My papá brought me here when I was little and you know what he told me?”

“What?”

Lance’s father turned off the flashlight and brought a hand to rest on Lance’s shoulder.

“He told me to look up at the stars,” he said and Lance gasped as he did. Never in his life had he seen so many stars in the sky before. He had no idea so many stars existed.

“Whoa!”

“Beautiful, huh? Look, the Big Dipper is there! Can you see it?” Lance’s father asked and he spent a couple of minutes showing Lance the outline of the constellation.

“There’s pictures in the stars?” Lance asked.

“Yes, they’re like connect-the-dot pictures and just like with connect-the-dot-pictures, if you take away even one dot, you ruin the picture, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, people are a lot like constellations or connect-the-dot pictures. See, it might seem that because there are so many stars, if you take away just one, it wouldn’t matter, but that’s not true. If you take away one star, you ruin the picture. Every star is important, and Lance, every person is important.

“Each star has a role to play and so does everyone in the world. Nobody can be you but you, Lance. Remember that. You’re never invisible. You’re part of something big and beautiful, mijo. Does that make sense?”

Lance looked from his father to the stars above and then back to his father. He was a little confused, but he at least understood that his father was telling him he was important and that was enough.

“Yeah, Papá.”

“Now, will you be a good boy in class for me? You can make jokes on breaks but you’ve gotta listen to your profe when she’s teaching you. She’s helping you learn. That’s why she’s important.”

“I’ll be good, Papá. I promise.”

Lance’s father smiled and ruffled his son’s hair.

“Do you want more hot chocolate?”

“Yeah!”

Once again, they fell into a comfortable silence, sipping on hot chocolate and looking up at the stars. Lance went over what his father said in his head again, about how each star was important even though there were a bajillion-million. He looked at the stars and tried to pay attention to each one on their own but there were too many. Then, an idea struck him.

“Papá!”

“Yes?”

“Papá, I wanna see the stars when I grow up!” Lance said, pointing up at the stars and tugging on his father’s sleeve.

“Oh? And how will you do that, mijo?”

“I’ll-I’ll-!” Lance looked around for the answer until it struck him, “I’ll show you!”

He shimmied out of his brother’s jacket and brought the sleeves up around his neck. He stood and held out the sleeves to his father.

“Can you tie them?” Lance asked and his father let out a soft chuckle but obliged. With the sleeves tied around his neck, the torso of the jacket flapped behind him like a cape, and he looked for the right place to stage his announcement.

He found it in a nearby rock that was perfect to perch on and ran to it. He hoisted himself onto the rock then stood to his full height and placed his fists on his hips.

With a big, dashing smile he called to his father, “Papá! One day, I’ll visit every star in the universe and tell them they’re important—just like you said! I’ll be a super space hero!”

Lance’s father, full of laughter and pride, gave his son an amused grin and a round of applause.

“I’m sure you will, Lance. I’m sure you will.”

#vld lance #lance mcclain #voltron #vld #lance vld #baby lance #voltron legendary defender #lancitozine #lance's family #the mcclains

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tiredgaykeith · 7 years

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How Keith Got His Birthday

It is a silly little birthday fic. I love Platonic Sheith. Happy birthday to the boy who means the most to me. <3

Pairing: Platonic Shiro & Keith

Word Count: 1.3K

Rating: General Audiences

Description: Shiro finds out Keith doesn’t know his actual birth date.

“What do you mean you don’t have a real birth date?”

Keith looked up at Shiro with a bored expression, pausing from playing with the rubix cube he found in Shiro’s dorm room at the Garrison, shrugging before going back to the puzzle.

“I’m undocumented, remember?” Keith said, sprawling his legs out further on Shiro’s bed, “My exact birth date was unknown to my parents, since they were traveling off the grid at the time, or at least, that’s what Dad told me. Anyways, we just celebrated my birthday every 1st day of the year, so I put January 1st on my papers when applying. No idea if that’s right though.”

Shiro was... flabbergasted, to say the least. Sure, he could understand Keith’s birthday not being documented but his parents never even bothered to figure out when their son’s actual birthday was?

Today was supposed to be a typical day for Shiro and his new protege, hanging out in Shiro’s room after training, even though the Garrison would have a field day if they knew how close of friends Shiro and Keith had become. The thought of Keith’s birthday crossed his mind when he realized his own 21st birthday was only a few months away now.

“I really wish you would’ve told me that,” Shiro sighed, sitting down at the end of the bed, “At least I have time to get you a present.”

“A present?” Keith asked, giving Shiro a skeptical look, “Why?”

Shiro was confused, they had become practically like brothers. How could Keith not think he’d buy him a-

Wait a minute.

“Keith,” Shiro asked hesitantly, “Have you ever... have you ever had a birthday party? Or gotten a birthday present?”

Keith’s eyes flashed up to him, and for a moment Shiro could see what lied under Keith’s hardened surface. Under the trauma and hard life experiences that built Keith into a rock to most people, he was still just a kid. One who laughed at stupid cat videos. One who played with rubix cubes and talked excitedly about his dreams and passion for flight.

A kid who’s last real birthday celebration was probably years ago.

Which is what made Shiro decide right then and there what he was going to do.

Shiro smiled comfortingly at Keith and gave his leg a pat. “It’s decided then, tomorrow we are going to get you a present. No point in waiting.”

Keith looked taken back by Shiro’s statement, before glaring at him, completely dropping interest from his rubix cube. “What are you talking about? The new year is still months away.”

Shiro chuckled, before getting up to turn on the TV. “Don’t care. You need a present. Meet me at the front steps tomorrow morning, 10 sharp. Now, what do you wanna watch before you gotta head back, SVU or Criminal Minds?”

Keith really wanted to go back.

“I wanna go back,” Keith whined, practically gluing himself to Shiro’s side as they pushed through the mall’s tight crowd.

It was still beyond him why Shiro was so insistent on buying a present for him. Keith had been given presents before, sure. When he was still seven and lived with his Dad. Before his Dad disappeared when he was a young teen and had to start living on his own. Birthday’s didn’t mean anything to Keith, a new year, the same Keith he’s always been. Why’d people treat it like a big deal?

Not only was Shiro’s behavior irritating him, but so was the rest of the mall. Tight crowds made him uncomfortable. The heavy fragrance that penetrated his lungs made him feel gross. And after catching a nasty look from that annoying kid in his piloting class, Keith was feeling tired even though it was barely 11 o’ clock.

“Here we are!” Shiro said, pulling Keith out from where he was hiding behind him. Keith took in the store in front of him and immediately felt a wave of self consciousness come over him. He looked down at his dirty pants, gray(-once-black) shirt with holes at the bottom, and muddy boots. Then back at the sleek front of the high end, piloting wear store.

“Um,” Keith wondered how he could get out of this, “I don’t think I can go there, Shiro.”

Shiro gave him a confused look and Keith gestured to his outfit, a stark contrast to Shiro’s well-kept athletic wear he was such a fan of. Shiro snorted and Keith punched him in the arm.

“You’re fine,” Shiro said, already walking into the store, “Come on.”

Keith sighed but followed Shiro in, evading the looks from both store assistants and customers. Once inside Shiro took him towards the front counter where he shook hands with an older man with graying hair. The man gave Shiro a warm smile.

“Takashi!” He said, vice thick in some European accent, “My boy! How have you been? In for some new boots or gloves maybe?”

“Long time, no see, Harold,” Shiro chuckled, “But not here for me today. This is my protege, Keith.”

Shiro gestured to Keith and Keith froze for a moment, unsure what to do. Harold adjusted his glasses to look at Keith, before smiling just as warmly at him.

“Welcome,” Harold said, extending his hand, “You must be one hell of a pilot to be Takashi’s kid. Good to meet ‘cha!”

Keith shook his hand and nodded his head, unsure of what to say. Shiro put a hand on Keith’s shoulder and squeezed it in reassurance.

“Keith here is top of his class at the Garrison. Gonna be a better pilot than me someday. So we’re gonna be getting some gloves for him.”

Keith looked at Shiro in surprise. Riding gloves were expensive, even cheaper, basic ones. He had a pair, though the were the cheapest brand you could find, and he still got callouses under the fake leather. A pair of gloves here would cost him practically half an arm.

Before Keith could object, Harold was already pulling out his measuring tape and lining it up to Keith’s hand.

“Wonderful!” he said, inspecting Keith’s hands with care, “Only the best for Garrison’s finest!”

Keith looked back up at Shiro, who was already looking at him with a large grin.

“You know it.”

Keith was surprised it only took one hour in the store, and by the end, he had a luxury pair of fine leather, black gloves. Shiro made him leave the store to get food after they checked to make sure they fit, and by the time Keith was back, Shiro was holding a small red box with a gold ribbon on top.

“Happy early birthday, Keith,” Shiro said, placing the box in Keith’s free hand and taking the bag from him.

Keith looked down at the small box. The first present he’d received in almost ten years. It felt... overwhelming.

“Shiro,” Keith was feeling so many things, wasn’t sure what to say, “This... this is...”

“You deserve it Keith,” Shiro rested another hand on his shoulder, “You know why we celebrate birthdays? Because it’s another year you’re alive, another year you spent improving your life and doing great things. A day that I’m reminded how lucky I am to have you in my life now. You’ve been through a lot Keith, and I’m proud of you. I’m really happy to get you these.”

If Shiro noticed how Keith looked away to wipe the tear out of his eye, he didn’t say anything, just grab him by the shoulder and led him out of the mall.

When they got into the car, Keith finally got the courage to say something.

“I don’t want my birthday to be the start of the year anymore,” Keith said, fiddling with his new gloves, “I want it to be today.”

Shiro gave him an odd look, but smiled and laughed, starting the car. “You know usually i would say birthdays don’t work like that, but for yours, we’ll make an exception. Let’s see here.”

Before Shiro pulled out of the mall garage he looked at his phone and smiled at Keith.

“October 23rd. Happy Birthday, Keith.”

I have so many feels about Keith honestly. His character means so much to me and I’m so proud of him and how much he’s grown in canon. I also just love the headcanon that Keith decided his own birthday, because the date really meant something to him. It’s a very Keith thing to do. Happy birthday, son!

#this is a dorky fic #i wrote it in like #1 hour #no lie #its not even his birthday in my time zone yet oh well #keith's birthday #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender #vld fanfic #my fanfiction #trixwrites #keith kogane #not sheith but idc if you tag it as so #interpert as you like #and yes that annoying kid from class #was def lance #sheith

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spilledparchment · 7 years

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I received a comment on my fic, Stormy Winds and Autumn Leaves, which really frustrated me and made me quite upset. I was finally able to craft an articulate response but I feel the need to write some more about Ginny Weasley.

For reference this is the comment I received:

What we see here is the background of a lot of Ginny Weasley Hate but I won’t be deconstructing and writing a rebuttal, I’m going to write about the character I love and why I love her.

Full disclosure, I am not a fan of how Ginny was treated in Book 7. In fact I will rant about it at length. In my fic I wrote my feelings as follows:

She hadn't asked to be Helen, hadn't asked Harry to charge into battle and keep her safe. She was Æthelflæd and Boudica. She was the dancing wind that blew in a storm. She was an eagle flying fierce and free. She'd led a rebellion and broken into the Headmaster's office. She'd been collected by Slughorn on her own merits. She was not born to sit meekly by - to be bridled and cossetted. ... he'd agreed with her mother and tried to lock her in a room in a castle for her own protection. She was no princess, no trophy, or prize. Not for her were the notions of Victorian femininity designed. She was not made for him and she would not force herself to be.

I do think it’s possible to ship Hinny but that ship requires dealing with Harry’s actions in Book 7 and the way he fundamentally stripped her of her autonomy.

Tangent over, let’s analyse the youngest Weasley sibling. aka why I love her.

When we first meet Ginny she’s asking her mother why she can’t go to Hogwarts like her siblings.

"Now, what's the platform number?" said the boys' mother.

"Nine and three-quarters!" piped a small girl, also red-headed, who was holding her hand, "Mom, can't I go... "

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first."

There’s something to pay attention to here, Ginny is introduced as a slightly pushy girl who needs to be quiet. Which isn’t that dissimilar to Hermione but, crucially, the narrative repeatedly silences Ginny in a way it does not do to Hermione. Interestingly, despite the fact that Ginny cries when her sibling’s leave, she’s cheered up not with the promise of letters but a toilet seat from a prank. This, then, is something she’d appreciate. Her second appearance also involves her mother telling her to be quiet (and a lot of excitement over seeing Harry Potter.)

In the second book she’s introduced shy and nervous over meeting Harry properly. Crucially her silence is considered atypical by her family.

“Ginny,” said Ron. “You don’t know how weird it is for her to be this shy. She never shuts up normally —”

While Harry is visiting, her mother goes on a tangent about how expensive it is to buy all Ginny’s things even if it’s secondhand. Like her older brother, Ron, Ginny is well aware of her families’ poverty and likely how much more she costs than her siblings. While Ron has hand-me downs from Fred, George, Percy, Bill, and Charlie she is a girl and her second-hand clothes need to be bought fresh.

When she arrives at Hogwarts she’s immediately sorted into Gryffindor - for valuing chivalry, nerve, daring, courage, etc.

From there she disappears slightly from the narrative, reappearing when Ron talks mockingly about her crush on Harry and again at the beginning of October where we start to notice side-affects from her possession:

Her Pepperup Potion worked instantly, though it left the drinker smoking at the ears for several hours afterward. Ginny Weasley, who had been looking pale, was bullied into taking some by Percy.

We also get a hint that she’s starting to worry as she blanches when Ron tries to reassure her that they’ll catch the ‘maniac’ who petrified Mrs Norris and killed the chickens.

The possession continues to have an adverse impact on Ginny. We have a sentence where Percy mentions Ginny is upset but the narrative ignores her, just like the trio does, until after Colin Creevey’s petrification when we learn that:

Ginny Weasley, who sat next to Colin Creevey in Charms, was distraught, but Harry felt that Fred and George were going the wrong way about cheering her up. They were taking turns covering themselves with fur or boils and jumping out at her from behind statues. They only stopped when Percy, apoplectic with rage, told them he was going to write to Mrs. Weasley and tell her Ginny was having nightmares.

So at this point in the narrative we know that Percy is worried about his younger sister’s first year. She’s been crying, she looks ill, she’s been having nightmares. By this point in the narrative we haven’t seen much of the talkative girl who asserts her right to be where her brothers are and do what they do by breaking into broom sheds at night.

Her second spoken sentence in the book comes in Chapter Twelve where:

Ginny didn’t find it amusing either. “Oh, don’t,” she wailed every time Fred asked Harry loudly who he was planning to attack next, or when George pretended to ward Harry off with a large clove of garlic when they met.

By this point in the narrative, Ginny’s suspicions are firming up. She’s being possessed. Her energy is being stripped from her and her body is being used against her will. She’s worried, has been since the chicken feathers we find out when Tom Riddle appears in the chamber, but is struggling to reconcile her “friend” with the “Heir” and, since nothing horrible has happened in her life up until this point, she has no frame of reference for what to do.

Roughly around Christmas time she tries to destroy the diary only to discover it had fallen into Harry’s hands.

A hush fell over the onlookers. Ginny was staring from the diary to Harry, looking terrified.

Which must have been her worst nightmare. Her hero and crush is in terrible danger.

Ginny is scared out of her mind and yet she still tries to tell him what’s been going on, warn him about the diary,

Just then, Ginny Weasley came over and sat down next to Ron. She looked tense and nervous, and Harry noticed that her hands were twisting in her lap. “What’s up?” said Ron, helping himself to more porridge. Ginny didn’t say anything, but glanced up and down the Gryffindor table with a scared look on her face that reminded Harry of someone, though he couldn’t think who. “Spit it out,” said Ron, watching her. Harry suddenly realized who Ginny looked like. She was rocking backward and forward slightly in her chair, exactly like Dobby did when he was teetering on the edge of revealing forbidden information. ... Ginny opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

but the appearance of her staid older brother who has been mothering her in Molly’s absence - the only sibling constantly looking out for her, who she would probably feel great love for and hate to disappoint - causes her to lose her courage.

As a result she decides to break into Harry’s room and steal the diary in order to protect him. She’s promptly repossessed and damseled for Harry to rescue.

The conversation between Tom and harry reveals a lot about Ginny’s inner life.

“The diary,” said Riddle. “My diary. Little Ginny’s been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes — how her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with secondhand robes and books, ... Ginny simply loved me. No one’s ever understood me like you, Tom. ... “Yes,” said Riddle, calmly. “Of course, she didn’t know what she was doing at first. It was very amusing. I wish you could have seen her new diary entries . . . far more interesting, they became. . . . Dear Tom,” he recited, watching Harry’s horrified face, “I think I’m losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and I don’t know how they got there. Dear Tom, I can’t remember what I did on the night of Halloween, but a cat was attacked and I’ve got paint all down my front. Dear Tom, Percy keeps telling me I’m pale and I’m not myself. I think he suspects me. . . . There was another attack today and I don’t know where I was. Tom, what am I going to do? I think I’m going mad. . . . I think I’m the one attacking everyone, Tom!”

This is objectively horrifying stuff. It’s worth noting though that the most we learn about Ginny, her life and fears, in two books is through male characters explaining her to the reader. First Ron tells us Ginny isn’t a quiet character then Tom tells us everything that she experienced in her first year.

Immediately after her posession Ginny worries about being blamed for what happened and what her mother will say. A fear which probably wasn’t assuaged when the truth comes out and her parents respond by saying:

“His d-diary!” Ginny sobbed. “I’ve b-been writing in it, and he’s been w-writing back all year —”

“Ginny!” said Mr. Weasley, flabbergasted. “Haven’t I taught you anything? What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can’t see where it keeps its brain. Why didn’t you show the diary to me, or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was clearly full of Dark Magic —”

As a feminist this scene is very interesting. While Dumbledore has just attempted to explain that her assailant has violated people much stronger and smarter than her, Ginny’s parents immediately ask her what on earth she was thinking. As a horror trope possession is next to rape. If we flip it we have a female character worried that she’s going to be in trouble for what was done to her, who is told that her assailant is a repeat offender who has attacked people she would consider more able to defend themselves, she is then immediately asked why she allowed this to happen to her. She knows better than to go out in that dress, hang out with that boy alone, write in a sentient object.

At the end of the book we are meant to accept that Ginny is ‘perfectly happy’ again.

With respect to JK Rowling, that’s unlikely. Which is something she acknowledges in Prisoner of Azkaban when Ginny is one of the characters worst affected by the dementors. Narrative wise Ginny isn’t very present in this novel, quiet and blushing around Harry but she does start to assert herself more as the story progresses.

In Goblet of Fire she properly becomes close friends with Hermione, another girl who “doesn’t know when to be quiet.”hanging around in a boys club and from the moment Harry arrives at the Burrow she talks and asserts her opinions - even if she’s blushing and nervous at the beginning. She shows herself to be clever, correctly identifying a politician and his cabinet position. How many thirteen year olds can do that in our world? She hangs over the edge of the box to see Quidditch better (and they are very very high up).

Even before she punches Luna’s bullies, she shows herself to be a defender and protector of the less popular.

“He told me after Potions! Said she’s always been really nice, helping him out with work and stuff — but she told him she was already going with someone. Ha! As if! She just didn’t want to go with Neville . . . I mean, who would?” “Don’t!” said Ginny, annoyed. “Don’t laugh —”

She accepts Neville’s invitation to the ball and honours it, even when she could have said yes to Ron’s proposal - she looked like she wanted to - told Neville she changed her mind and gone with her crush: Harry.

That’s a girl with integrity.

In Order of the Pheonix she, like her siblings, attempts to listen in at the meetings and is loudly, continually, exuberant. She is no longer shy around Harry and incorporates fully into the group. She defends Luna from bullies, joins Dumbledore’s Army, proves herself to be magically powerful and capable at Defense, and defends Harry. Ginny unashamedly takes Harry’s place as seeker, without caring what he would think and reveals that she’d been breaking the rules since childhood.

When Harry reveals his fears about Voldemort she gets angry at the way he’s forgotten that she, too, has suffered because of him. She reminds him that she was possessed and would know what it’s like and tells him that she hasn’t been able to forget about it the way he clearly did. To Harry it’s Adventure Two, to Ginny it’s a formative moment of profound trauma which lasted for almost an entire year culminating in her attempted murder.

When Michael Corner becomes upset that she defeated his house team she breaks up with him. When her brothers are horrified that she’s dating Dean Thomas and attempt to slut shame her, she silences them and declares it’s her right to date whoever she wants.

In Half Blood Prince she’s tapped by kingmaker Horace Slughorn as someone who will go far. While I, personally, don’t enjoy the way she treats Fluer Delacour in this novel and excuses Harry’s decision to use sectumsempra on Malfoy - Ginny is golden in this book.

She refuses to allow Ron to slut shame her for kissing her boyfriend. She breaks up with him because of what she assumes to be the latest in a string of incidents where he’s patronised her (in reality Harry knocked into her.) She deliberately crashes her broom into Zacharius Smith after he makes cruel comments.

In short, Ginny remains vibrant and alive. She asserts her right to bodily autonomy and defends those weaker than herself. She can be prejudiced in applying her moral code to those she considers to be undeserving but she follows her beliefs with integrity. When Harry breaks up with her for her own good she accepts it with grace and dignity, even as she points out that it’s “stupid”

Harry, in Deathly Hallows, leaves her behind at the school where we know that she, Neville, and Luna started a student revolution. She breaks into Snape’s office in an attempt to steal the Sword of Gryffindor and makes herself so much of a nuisance that the Death Eaters have to take notice.

One of the great disservices done to Ginny’s character is when Harry sides with her mother in an attempt to keep her safe by keeping her locked in the Room of Requirement. Her jubilation when she’s set free and furious battle with the Death Eaters proves how much she hated it and how wrong it was to keep her there. Ginny is a formidable fighter, her skills could have been used and, like everyone in the Wizarding World, she was never safe while Voldemort was alive.

The Ginny who broke up with her boyfriend for helping her through the portrait hole one too many times could not have taken kindly to that.

What we see when we look at Ginny’s plotline throughout the books is one where she continually asserts herself and her right to be and do whatever she wants. She defends those weaker than her and is profoundly sensitive to any attempts to control her body - unsurprising after what happened to her at eleven but still inspiring. Despite this, her narrative is one where other attempt to control and silence her. From her mother, to Tom Riddle, to Voldemort and his Death Eaters, to her various boyfriends - Harry included - everyone tries to tell Ginevra Weasley what to do and how to behave. It is one of her greatest strengths and most admirable qualities that she refuses to be controlled.

It says a lot, I think, that in a family which contains a sibling who breaks curses in Egypt, a sibling who works with dragons, a sibling with aspirations for the ministry, and a family with Fred and George - it is growing up with Ginny that teaches Ron anything is possible if you’ve got enough nerve.

#character analysis #ginny weasley #this got long #i just really love her ok

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