McCoy in Shore Leave seeing the white rabbit: I've smoked plenty of pot in my life and I know even the best weed in the world wouldn't conjure a talking white rabbit.

McCoy having watched Alice chase said rabbit away: .... Sulu run diagnostics on this plant right now!

Tribal Chief

❤️❤️Author's Note: For those of you who are unaware, I am a co-author for my sister over on Wattpad so with her permission this story has been requested to post on my Tumblr as well. Oh, and this was inspired by the recent backstage segment between Roman and Nick Aldis. My boy is not playin' with the Tribal Chief. xD Anyways, Enjoy!

I do not own the pictures used in this, credit to the owner(s).

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Warnings: not really, other than some vulgar language lol

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Since being promoted to the general manager position on Smackdown, you must say that you have made a great impact on the show. Ratings are booming; endorsements are rolling in, and you were not only showing your powerful role as the WWE Women's World Champion but also as a top manager for the business. Sure, it meant more responsibilities, but you were more than up for the challenge, and everyone loved you.

Well, everyone except the Tribal Chief, Roman Reigns, who you've bumped heads with on several occasions since being drafted to Smackdown. The 6'3, tanned Samoan hated that you never acknowledged him and two, you were trying to tell him what to do....no one tells Roman Reigns what to do.

*Live Backstage Segment*

You've been summoned by the arrogant asshole Chief himself as told to you by Paul Heyman. Said that you and his Tribal Chief needed to talk business. You inwardly roll your eyes, knowing that this most likely had to do with tonight's booking. You smooth out your dress and had to admit to yourself you looked too damn good. Although you weren't a face, nor a heel either, the crowd cheered for you as the camera panned to you:

Not bothering to knock, you barge into the Bloodline's locker room, adjusting your championship title on your shoulder. The crowd began booing loudly as the camera switched to Roman sitting on the couch, while Solo stood behind him, Jey and Jimmy sitting across from him on another couch. All conversation stopped when you walked in. You strut over to Roman, standing off to the side as you fold your arms over your slightly exposed chest.

"Good evening gentlemen...I've been summoned." You say in a mocking tone. Roman takes his eyes off of his phone before eying you up and down; eyes roaming over your body a little longer than he'd admit.

You looked so beautiful. So sexy.

"......Leave us." He says in a smooth, yet deep tone.

All four men glance at their Tribal Chief before nodding. They exit quietly leaving you and Roman to yourselves. The tension in the room was apparent as you took your championship and placed it on the table beside you. You cross your beautiful brown leg over the other, noticing how Roman eyes them before subtly licking his lips. He can't help but be amused.

It's been a while since you two have talked being that for about three years, you've been over on Raw. Though Raw is no stranger to random Bloodline attacks on the Raw superstars, which you've witnessed firsthand. Long story short, you used to be in a three-person faction, you being the only woman of the three. Your two members challenged the Usos for their undisputed tag team titles and the Tribal Chief did not like that. He didn't like anyone disrespecting his family and when you did, you were dealt with. Unfortunately, the Usos ambushed your members after a match and put both men on the shelf. They haven't been active for over 6 months now. Hence why WWE decided to push a storyline between you and Roman to further your hate for one another.

"How do you know I wasn't talking to you?" He challenged.

"With all due respect, I wouldn't give a damn if you were." The crowd oh's loudly as Roman lets out a humorless laugh as you give him a coy smile. He straightens up his posture, reminding you of just how big he was compared to you.

"Ha, okay." He rests his elbows on his legs as he rubs his beard. A habit you've come to know of his. His brows furrowed and his face twisted slightly as he sat there thinking. "You booked my cousins, the Usos versus Sami & K.O.?" You sit up slightly as you nod.

"I did."

"And you booked Solo vs LA Knight?" He asks not looking at you. You eye his side profile as you again nod.

"I did." He shakes his head nodding.

"Hm........those are some pretty good ideas, but you know what would've been an even better idea? If you would've run that all by me first." You snort as you look away momentarily.

Just who the hell does he think he is? He thinks just because he and his family are the top superstars in the company, everyone has to bow down and kiss their damn feet?

"You see...I'm the Tribal Chief...the Head of the Table, everything goes through me. And I need you to understand that. Adam Pearce did." He states his voice smoother than silk and deeper than the ocean, but he still don't know who he's dealing with.

"Is that right?" He nods.

"Well Mr. Reigns, sorry to break it to you but, I'm not the Usos, Solo Sikoa nor am I the Wiseman Paul Heyman. Or anyone else in this locker room for that matter. I'm the general manager of Smackdown. Which means...I tell you what to do, when to do it, and how to do it. Which also means, I'M the Head of the Table. And if I'm the Head of the Table....that means, I'm in control of who sits at the table and what you eat and when you eat. I feed you now." You say smartly as the crowd ooo's loudly.

Roman runs an annoyed hand down his face as his face twists in anger. Just who exactly did you think you were talking to? Sure stature-wise, you had nothing on him, but apparently, all that power has gone to your head.

You stand to your feet along with Roman as he is more than annoyed. The corner of his mouth twitched angrily. Oh, you got under his skin. You take your championship and place it back on your shoulder as you smirk at Roman. Damn, he looked sexy as fuck angry.

"Trust...you don't wanna be on my bad side Mr. Reigns." You say as you trace the outline of his belt that sat on his waist like the king he was.

You were both standing so close to each other, you were almost chest to chest. Damn, he smelled good. He lightly bites his lip as you do so, trying not to break character. He couldn't help but find you attractive. All of this confidence you oozed was going straight to his dick. He prayed no one could see the boner building in his pants. You keep this up, he was gonna tell them to cut the cameras, get the hell out, and fucked you silly on this damn couch.

"Wanna know why?" You ask batting your lashes up at the man.

"Why?" He says in almost a deep whisper. You smirk as you tap your manicured nail on his championship.

"Because...I'll make it hard for you." You say as the crowd goes crazy.

You definitely meant that in more ways than one and he seemed to have caught on. You back away slowly as you smile at him innocently.

"Now! If you'll excuse me, I have a show to run. Maybe we can get to know each other a little better. Enjoy the rest of your night Mr. Reigns." The crowd cheers as you strut away.

Roman was going to learn one way or another, you were the authority...not him.

Sly kitty.

Scara x Fem! Reader

Flirting, SLIGHTLY suggestive, modern AU, college AU, idk

A/N: Finally decided to post this after it collected dust for like a month or three in my drafts/privated.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Part 1 / Part 2

You sat there, across from Scara as you stabbed into your lunch with your mind wandering away. As the blood drains even harder from your face, his smirk that he tried to hide so badly failed thrice as hard.

"Why so gloomy?" His eyes flickered to your hand, following the movement of a fork hammering into your food up and down.

"What silly trick do you have up your sleeve up this time, hmm?" You glare, cutting a portion, shoving it down your throat one after another.

"Oh come on, if this is what a bad day looks like, you clearly won't be liking tomorrow, dear." He laughs, making a portion almost go down your lungs,

"Excuse me? Tomorrow what now?" You grasp onto your sore throat making him laugh harder, was that meant to be sarcasm? You flush a slight red gritting your teeth, rushing to grab a random book from your bag, slamming it HARD against his face almost making his nose bleed.

"Ow fuck! Calm down, it was just a joke!" He pinches his nose, his head leaning backwards to apparently 'help' with the escaping blood, at this rate, you're hoping he dies from the slow increasing lack of blood in his body. "Piss off." You slide the book back in your bag, walking away with the tray with a bunch of leftovers on it.

"Ah whats her problem? I thought girls liked flirting." He stared at your fading silhouette.

As soon as class ends, you slowly shake your head around trying to spot Scara. You find him with a small tissue rolled up inside his nostril, exiting the classroom.

"Ah... wait!" You run to grab his shoulder, "Hm?" He glanced at you as a random girls voice echoes throughout the hall over to you both.

"Scara-kun? Are you coming?" His attention is diverted over to someone. Who..? No way, did he already get a girlfriend right after calling me that stupid pet name? Ah seriously this little.... - You look over, seeing a girl whos far younger than anyone here. "What? Who is she...?"

"Are you talking about Keni? Just a kid I agreed to tutor after school. I don't know why but her mom trusts me a lot." A vivid image of a middle aged woman pops up in your mind, with a thumbs up gesture. Quote; 'You can do it! Its your chance!'

"Do you have anyone at your house today? If not... I could whip something up for you over there." You give a wry smile in hopes of acceptance, his eyes lit up slightly. "Sure, you don't really need to make me anything though, Keni would love some pancakes." He walked away, clearly trying to hide something as Keni followed behind, running energetically.

–

Fast forward over to his house, you grab an apron, and some basic needs to start cooking. - Hmm... I wonder what he likes. Should I just make him some chicken katsu? I guess I'll make that and pancakes for me and Keni.

You started to make the batter for the pancakes, overhearing some distinct chatter between the two at the table. You were so focused on something else, that you almost tipped over the entire bowl of the batter, though you still spilled quite a lot.

A sudden shock overtakes you, making your face flush a bright red and skin burn when a hand latches onto your waist, and another onto your wrist. "Be careful. You're no use if you'll end up spilling everything. It's already a hindrance that you have a huge mess piled up." His voice felt like it was blowing gently into your ear, his chest pressed against your back as his hand guided yours.

You hear a little snicker from behind as you shove his hand and slap away the leeching hand on your waist. "I can do it myself, or if you want I can burn this whole place down."

"Oh sure thing miss professional, step aside and let me follow your amazing tutorial." He takes your spot in cooking, as you end up being shoo'ed away with a gesture to 'go wash up'

Meanwhile, Keni is well... a little flabbergasted.

-

As you start to wash yourself up, your hand navigates itself over to your chest, feeling your heart beating faster than ever. Your skin burning a pinkish hue, as a new feeling pops up in your heart, your stomach feeling like there was a huge pit, it felt like something was missing, it felt like so odd. — I must be going insane. —

He was a good friend, but everytime you began to love him, a huge anxious pit developed inside your stomach, which made you feel unsure.

He has never had any interest in love. After all, he is a puppet with no heart, can you really trust him knowing that? A huge sense of guilt overlapped your whole body, running fingers through your hair. You weren't even sure if you deserve to be apart of his lives chapter at all.

After all, this has and had always happened to you. You shook it off, trying to finish your little 'wash up' time as quickly as possibly. "Hmm... I didn't bring any spare clothes. But there is a clean pair right here..."

You walk out, drying your hair with a towel as you saw them eating... Well. Only Keni was eating, however Scara was just drinking tea, I guess he still likes tea.

His clothes smelled good, and it felt warm. "Oh, those... are my clothes." He scanned your figure, looking dazed as he takes larger sips of his extremely dark tea.

"Should I change out of them?" You tease, making him flush a pinkish red. "Nnnooo...." raised your eyebrows at him.

"Oh well, your clothes are comfortable, where do you buy them?"

"Its a little difficult to describe, but if you want I can show you where tomorrow. Perhaps you could consider it a date." His frown turned upside down sheepishly,

"Ah... what?"

"Nothing, however I am assuming thats a yes." His eyes flickered over to Kenis papers, sitting down beside her. "Alright, so you should..."

His voice faded out into the background, giving you time to contemplate on what he had just said. You took your phone out, looking at the time to find its already super late.

"Ha...?" Confused, you restart your phone biting on your nails. "I should get going..."

Only whispering to yourself, but it managed to catch his attention. "You're leaving already? Its quite late isn't it?" As he continued to help the little girl beside him.

"Uh... Its not like I really have anything going on at home but...-" cut off, "Just stay here for the night. Its just one night after all." You stayed silent, watching his movement helping Keni, wait... Has she been listening in silenc–

Now fastforward to a few hours later, he guides you over to the guestroom, "You can stay in this room, but if its too dusty for you, you could take a look at the other one." He asked, glancing over to check the expression plastered onto your face.

"It's fine, its just for a night anyway, thanks for trying to keep me safe though I'm clearly responsible enough." You tease, settling into the room.

He stared shortly, before closing the door, walking away to his room with a blank expression. "Hm... "

-

Not any later into the midnight, you woke from your sleep due to a nightmare, eyes flashing open with your chest heaving up and down. "Shit... My head.." It felt like someone had stuck a needle through your head due to the piercing pain that stuck from the nightmare.

You held onto your head as you nauseously walked out of your half-opened rooms door. You reached out your left hand, holding your head with the other as you tried to count the doors away to his room.

You pushed a door open, walking inside assuming it was his. His eyes quickly shot over to you concerned, he was wrapped with a fluffy soft blanket as he played on a 'Xbox'. "... Huh?" He spoke with a quizzical tone calling out your name, walking to you with the blanket, wrapping you with it instead.

"Uh, you alright?" Brows slightly furrowing, you nodded; "Yes.. Kind of.." You sighed. Burrowing yourself into his blanket, trying to wrap yourself like a burrito,

"Go back to your room, I'll make you a hot choco... If you even can by yourself." You nodded, walking out again with the blanket loosely yet tightly wrapped around your body, falling onto your mattress still feeling sick to the core.

You heard his wary footsteps, turning you around and making you sit up, "Can't you drink it by yourself?" You nod in response, but he sighed in annoyance as he placed the mug over to your lips for easy access to the hot choco.

Watching your lips slowly be stained from the hot choco and slightly glistening each second dusted his cheeks with a pinkish hue. Till you stopped and mumbled about something like; ’'m too full..’ as you fell asleep straight away. He scoffed at the sight of the possibly wasted leftovers, only to decide on drinking it. And he hoped your dang 'condition' isn't infectious.

Now morning, the sun eagerly shone onto your face peeking from the blinds. "Ugh... It's already morning...?" You whined, tossing around in bed sleepily.

Someone knocked... once-twice-thrice, on your door waking you up alertly, "You awake yet?" The voice seemed to be Scara behind the locked door.

"Come in...– Oh wait, the doors locked." sighed, you did. Getting up making the 'soft fluffy' blanket fall, and to lazily unlock the door, twisting the knob opening it for him.

"You said you wanted to check out the place I buy clothes at, how come you're still so tired?" He scolded.

"Ugh...-gimme a break. It's so early." You sobbed back in response, yet he pointed at the wall clock somehow right infront of 'your room', the time showing 10:21 am

"It's the perfect time to go now, unless you want the parade to be rained on when we have to go home around 2 pm." Crossing his arms, "Oh c'mon, are we even gonna take that long?" complained, you did.

"I'll just go shower first. You better be alert and awake when I come back." He complained back, walking away downstairs to shower, you scoffed angrily throwing yourself back into bed for a few minutes before getting back up—You are the one who did ask after all.

You walked slowly downstairs, sitting down near the table in another sleeping type of position as you burrowed your head into the table.

"I'm done, you can go now, you can borrow one of my moms extra pair of clothing." He said while drying out his hair with a towel, walking away upstairs to do something.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

yea thats it. I'll make a part 2 in idk

is it over now? (was it over then?)

part one

part two: if she's got blue eyes, i will surmise that you'll probably date her

Eddie had felt completely numb after leaving Steve's apartment. He wasn't really interested in doing anything with his band even though they definitely owed the studio a new album but Eddie wasn't feeling inspired after the abrupt departure of his most recent muse.

He didn't want to be that guy who wrote songs about his exes or aired dirty laundry in public through cryptic lyrics. It worked for other people but his band's vibe was a lot more fantasy and concept albumy and he couldn't quite find the energy to allegorize his current heartbreak. This is where the reality of the music industry really sucked because at some point their label didn't give a shit about Eddie's need to wallow and his manager could only negotiate so many extensions.

Thankfully, all previous qualms he had with writing about his ex and their breakup ended when he saw another fucking TMZ headline about Steve leaving a club with another model. This had to be the thirtieth person Steve had been tied to since their breakup. Eddie's best guess was that his pact with Robin to be each other's whatever to get the media off their back had ended.

Lyrics started flowing out of Eddie as he swiped out of twitter and into his notes app.

Your new girl is my clone And did you think I didn't see you? There were flashing lights At least I had the decency To keep my nights out of sight Only rumors 'bout my hips and thighs And my whispered sighs

Eddie knew it was probably a low blow to flaunt his escapades after he'd worked pretty hard to keep them under wraps. He didn't need the world to know he had pity sex with some random guy he picked up because he really got Eddie's last album. Eddie fucking hated how pretentious some fans were about his lyrics. Like sometimes a sword is just a sword, bestie. Anyways, an NDA and really shitty coffee later, Eddie pretended that mistake hadn't happened but was petty enough to make it clear to Steve that he wasn't the only one finding solace in someone else's bed.

He put together a rough melody on his acoustic and sent it over to his band to see what they thought. He wasn't sure if they'd be into it but it was fucking therapeutic to get the feelings out of his body that were festering there. Gareth was over the moon because he had been anti-Steve from the beginning and was super on board with some pretty boy actor directed snark. Ronnie, Jeff, and Freak were a little harder to bring around as they felt like they should at least sort of protect their darker brand but once Freak laid down a pretty sick base and Ronnie added some haunting piano it was undeniably a Corroded Coffin song. They packaged up a rough draft and sent it over to their producer to work his magic. Before Eddie knew it the song was approved for a sound on TikTok and Eddie and the band were thinking of video ideas to promote the single which would apparently be ready for streaming in the next month. Eddie wasn't quite ready to concede an entire angsty breakup album but it did at least feel good to get a start on producing what the studio was looking for.

Eddie sat back and scrolled through the sound on TikTok and thought about Steve's reaction to the sound or the single a perfectly healthy amount, thank you very much.

@lololol-1234 (it's not quite fixed yet but i hope you don't mind the tag)

part three

Heeeyyyy, I'm so so intrigued by your hockey posting. I'd love to know more about Fedorov, like what's the lore, what makes him special? Have a nice day/ night <333

good morning/afternoon/evening anon! since you asked so nicely i'll try my best but i do tend to forget everything i know when i have to actually explain it. there is a lot of lore tho so i'm not gonna go over all of it (mainly the bits that interest me the most + some other stuff). i guess what really makes him special (at least to me) is the fact that we don't get players like this anymore. and i'm not talking playing style here (the impact of euro hockey players of the 90s on the nhl today is still so obviously there). a lot of his early career was directly impacted by cold war politics, and since those circumstances haven't existed for a while now, we don't get this insane type of backstories and lore anymore. i should also make it clear that i'm a massive nerd who sat in classrooms for years learning abt soviet stuff which i think definitely has an impact on who My Guys are

seriously there is a lot under the cut so be warned because i did get carried away with myself A Lot (i literally wrote over 1k words on this. sorry in advance)

ok so. sergei started playing "pro" hockey in the soviet union in the mid 80s (i don't think this is the place to explain whether these players were pro or amateur so will leave it like that), first in minsk (only for a year) before being picked up by cska moscow- the central army team. these guys made up most of the national team, which can probably be explained by the fact that their head coach also coached the national team (god that's a bit of a mouthful, but incredibly relevant). he wasn't the only rookie on the team that season; another kid (i think they were both like 16 at the time ?) called alex mogilny had also just arrived in moscow. they would become good friends. sergei would play three seasons for cska before being called up for the national team- he was going to the 1989 world championship. alex would be there, too, having already played on the team before. naturally, the ussr won gold (as they did almost every year). but that doesn't mean everything was good with the players. not long too after the tournament, some of the older players would finally get permission to play in the nhl, but for the younger guys it was looking like they had no way of getting out any time soon. in the days between the end of the championship and the soviet team's flight home, mogilny apparently approached fedorov and asked him to go to america with him- sergei said no, worried about what would happen to his family. alex would go anyway, disappearing for a few days before popping up in buffalo ready to join the sabres. (this might seem irrelevant right now but it's actually really not- i'm getting there now)

that same summer, sergei would be drafted in the fourth round by detroit. this choice may or may not have been influenced by steve yzerman telling them sergei was better than him. after a bit of back and forth, they got him to defect after cska played a series of games in north america. it literally sounds like the type of shit they write in spy films it was fucking mental. this made him only the second soviet to defect in order to play in the nhl i'm pretty sure (defo the second in like 18 months- funnily enough it was his bestie who was the first one. what a coincidence), but they weren't the first two from the other side of the iron curtain to do that. might be wrong but i think that honour goes to the stastny brothers. anyway. when sergei got to detroit he wore 91 because he wanted to "be like stevie" or some insane shit like that. which i literally think about all the time. like seriously what was that about sergei.

okok can't not talk about the russian five so doing that now. since idk how much you know about hockey i'll do a better job on this bit. after sergei arrived in detroit, management must've figured they could get more russians. over the next couple of years they got vladimir konstantinov (who was drafted the same year as sergei) and slava kozlov to make the jump to the states. since i'm mainly talking about sergei i won't go into how they got those two but it's just as unbelievable as you'd expect. after the 1994-95 lockout, the wings traded for another russian- slava fetisov. if you ever want to learn about soviet hockey you'll hear a lot about this guy, and for good reason too. he won two olympic gold medals and seven world championships with the soviet union, and captained most of those teams. obviously adding a guy with that much experience winning was a smart choice imo, even if he hadn't won anything in the nhl yet. by now the wings had four russian players- why not add a fifth ? in 1994 the wings were embarrassed in the playoffs, losing to san jose. it just happened that sj happened to have two of the older soviets who had fought for the right to play in north america. one of them was igor larionov- probably the smartest guy to ever play hockey. it was his tactics (and refusal to change his style of play) that led to his team's success in the first round. and i guess detroit didn't ever want to deal with that again because they ended up trading for the guy in the first part of the 1995-96 season. the russian five first played together in calgary, where they played that style of soviet hockey that nhlers could never really wrap their heads around at the time. they walked all over the flames in their own building, and would continue to do the same to the rest of the league. the five would be a key part of the 1997 stanley cup-winning team, which was the first wings team to lift the cup in over forty years.

sergei stayed to win a few more cups, and then left the city. he signed w the ducks in anaheim, bleached his hair and moved out to california (i think we can all resonate with wanting to change our appearance and move thousands of miles away from where we've spent over a decade building out lives amiright). from what i can tell, this move was Not Liked by detroit's owners (honestly i can't see any other reason his number hasn't been retired there). he'd bounce around a couple more nhl teams before going back to russia to play on the same team as his brother, eventually retiring in 2012.

jumping to 2015, that year's hockey hall of fame inductees included sergei (and nick lidstrom, one of his detroit teammates and one of the best defencemen to every play the game). it was basically a 90s wings reunion. in sergei's induction speech, he did like everyone else and thanked a bunch of people who helped him out throughout his career. and, you know, it was all the expected stuff (hockey guys can be so predictable sometimes), but "to my captain, steve yzerman" still fucking gets me. it had been twelve years since he'd worn a wings jersey. my captain. i think you get my point but i'm gonna have to stop there because i can't carry on and be remotely normal about it.

oh and in 2021, after spending a few years bouncing around random jobs for the team, cska announced that fedorov would be taking over as head coach. he went back to the team where all this started. now i don't know how exactly he is with his team but i sure hope he learned enough from his days there as a player under tikhonov on exactly how not to treat your players. cska won back to back gagarin cups (the trophy awarded to the khl team who wins the playoffs) in sergei'd first two seasons behind the bench, and they're probably looking to make it a threepeat with the playoffs starting today (?)

hey!!!! I love ur blog!! please would I be able to have some enemies-to-lovers headcanons for Felix, Sylvain, dimitri and Ingrid? Post time skip. Thank you

{Hello! Uhm, so...I was going through my unfinished drafts and saw that I had begun this but never finished it. I completed Felix's but never got past! It's a l s o more of an imagine than a headcannon. Apparently younger me saw an opportunity and went ham. I don't know when i'll ever get around to sylvain/dimitri/ingrid...but I hope this little Felix offering is something you'll like!}

Prompt: Enemies to Lovers

Master List: Here

"A Lack of Feeling" {Felix x Reader}

Everyone is this man's enemy. End of story.

……

Alright, maybe not everyone but there are more on the list than not. If Felix was an NPC in an RPG, then his affection meter towards anyone he meets beyond childhood begins at -50 points. No exceptions. (at least this is what he wants people to believe)

Normally if someone spends enough time with him they can earn his good graces, you know? At the very least get him on neutral ground, it's only natural after all that time investment

This applies to most cases with Felix

"Most" being a key word here

There are three special cases: the Prince of Fargeus, his loyal pet, and one other emotionally constipated hindrance

Deep down Felix knew that he truly did not detest the first two. The situation involving them was more complicated than his mind could handle during his youth, so until he aged and saw proof of Dimitri's willpower his feelings remained sour. Throughout it all he still had a definite idea of how to view them both and could predict their moves like a book.

The third? Not so much. It seemed like the more time Felix spent observing them, the more he grew unsettled. Nothing they did let any insight to their own emotions or thoughts. All he could learn through the grape vine were blatant facts: their birthday, hometown, etc. Nothing personal. Everything felt…fake? Staged? As if their personality was being written up off the top of someone's head in a book.

Felix couldn't trust them, no matter how much the professor, Sylvain, or anyone else tried to convince him. Rather than antagonize them like he did with Dimitri, Felix chose to flat out ignore their presence.

"My name is Felix, and if you're wise then you won't ever need to use it"- he spoke upon meeting, and that was it.

What he found the most odd was that they simply ignored his hostility. Not in a way to challenge him, or in disinterest, but with acceptance. Any attempt on being friends was made by others on their behalf.

They weren't pushy, he'd give them that. He didn't feel guilty since they clearly had no interest in him either.

Until one late evening a few dawns after Edelgard's betrayal, he had found flowers on every grave within the monestary. It was a chance sight since he'd accidentally spend too long in the sauna, but walking through the Cemetery showed even the most ancient stones with offerings. With dates older than any person in the castle, they likely hadn't been visited in years.

And at the end of it all sat his one-sided enemy. The supposedly empty shell laid a bouquet on another grave and for the first time he saw them cry.

"I didn't know you had the ability to cry," He approached them cautiously and against his better judgement. He instantly regretted too.

"I didn’t know you had the ability to care," they said back, much more brash than he'd ever heard before

Felix said nothing else in response…what do you say to someone after openly despising them for months on end? Did he even want to apologize?

"I don't, but you look more suspicious than usual" he gestured to the graves surrounding them

"It's unlikely they'll be getting any visitors anytime soon…they deserve at least one last honoring,"

That night was when Felix first felt their personality, and it was scarily similar to his own

Perhaps he would have noticed it sooner if he'd tried

Perhaps the similarity is why he never did. One of him was enough

Or…was it? The drop in his chest as they began to become acquainted implied that he may have been missing out on something he'd hadn't planned to ever find

So I very rarely get super personal on this blog just for the sake of it, but given there was already a much…darker version of this post sitting in drafts until just a short while ago, and maybe someone here might need to hear an uplifting real-life story tonight, I figured I’d go ahead and draft up and post this anyway.

See, I’m sure all of y’all here have noticed my relative lack of activity with any large project over the past five months, but what y’all don’t know is that this has largely been due to some pretty serious health issues — not the least of all being that…over the past…three-ish months of those five, I have had to stare down the very real possibility that I might have a pretty serious form of Leukemia. I was bounced from doctor to doctor about this, test after test, and not much of it looked good, if I’m being perfectly honest.

During all of that time up to today, I had been sitting around contemplating much of my existence, and how, at last, when the most difficult news of all came, I would break that news to everyone — what I would do, say, etc. I must’ve run through all the scenarios a million times, drafted up at least ten different letters for different people in my life, even recorded a cover of a song through which I wanted to say goodbye to everyone here, if it came to it (and which still sits in my video gallery currently, as though still waiting to be used).

Needless to say, although they had their moments as life always does, these past months have been overall a living Hell, and it only got progressively worse with every new piece of concerning news, up until today — the day I finally was able to go see the oncologist. (Doctors are often booked out for months around here rn — weeks at best.)

Prior to the visit, I had been informed by my GP that the oncologist would overlook all of my results ahead of time, and call to cancel the visit with me herself if she found/determined there was nothing worth being concerned over.

Well, the cancel call never came, so I think you can understand when I say that I went in full expectation of the worst case scenario; I mean, clearly she had thought it critical enough to keep the appointment, so that kind of spoke volumes for itself even without having seen her.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget the long time spent alone in the doctor’s office, waiting for her to arrive: there was some of the most gorgeous, peaceful instrumental music you could imagine playing softly, and as I was sitting there, forms in hand, staring down the room around me, I was just thinking to myself how that music clearly said exactly what this place was: it’s a place where people go to get basically the worst news of their lives imaginable, and try their best to cope with and struggle against their mortal illnesses. And this music was so pretty and peaceful because the patients needed it.

And here I was. Today I was one of those patients.

I sat there contemplating over my life and realizing that this was going to be the last moment that anything was even somewhat normal again for me. The last moments before life changing news.

I can’t begin to explain how that feels.

…And then the doctor came in and she was immediately telling me, like, more or less, “Oh honey, why are you here? lol We tried to call you to tell you not to come in — you don’t need all this stress for no reason, go on home, there’s nothing to worry about, you’re fine.”

Apparently she had, in fact, made an attempt to contact me because she wanted to spare me the stress of coming after reviewing the results and deciding I was fine, just like my GP said, but the call just hadn’t gone through.

The relief that I have inside of me today knowing that I am okay is beyond anything I could ever put into words. I cried the entire several hour drive home, and even now, as I type this up, I find myself tearing up just a little again in sheer gratitude and amazement and comfort.

Even if things had gone badly, I wouldn’t have had any regrets, but truly nothing makes me happier to know that I will be around for a long, long while here still — with the people and things that I love, with the strangers, with the haters, and everyone else in between.

Please never take life for granted. Live in the present and try to be as grateful for every moment as you possibly can. Life really is beautiful and precious and so, so worth living, so live it to the fullest and always remember that there can be hope.

No matter how bad things seem, there’s always a chance for hope to shine through.

It did for me. It can for you too.

I love you all so much.

Hey guys,

So I have been through a very long depression streak, making it so I haven't been able to write in well over a year or two, and it's been killing me.

But lately, I've had this idea to write again, but I'm terrified that it'll suck because I've never written an original story before. Granted I was thinking about Joel Miller and The Last Of Us while writing it, so I don't know. It's called Against All Odds and I just wanted to share the first chapter on here to see if anyone likes it.

Please leave a comment or just a heart, anything helps. Thanks!

K.S

Kennedy

"Allie! Come on! The lights are gonna turn on soon!" I giggled, a touch of fear from the thought of being grounded again pushing my legs faster as my sister and I booked it back to the little apartment we lived in with her older brother, Connor, their father, Sam, and my mother.

"Home!" Allie called out as we crossed over the threshold, just as the street lights sputtered on, almost running my mother over as she stood in front of the door, trying to find any reason to ground me again.

"Just in time, girls. Dinner is on the stovetop." Sam smiled at us, cutting my mother off from her usual tantrum.

"Thanks, Sam." I smiled back at him, as he gave me a soft, knowing nod before he gently guided my mother to her seat on the recliner in the living room, placing her dinner in front of her on the fold-out table. He put on her favorite show at a louder volume than usual before he ushered me back into the kitchen with an exhausted look on his face. I placed my hand on top of his once he sat down at the table with me. "What's the matter?" I whispered gently, lightly pressing him to open up to me as Allie ate her Mac N Cheese on the couch, blissfully unaware of the painful conversation we were about to have. He released a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand over his face as if that would make what he was about to say easier. It didn't. He sighed again before pulling a piece of paper out of his back pocket and placing it on the table. I gasped, placing my hands over my mouth with tears and confusion in my eyes.

I never had to read that paper to know exactly what it was. It's been all over the internet for months, and even without that, my older brothers got the same one only a month ago.

The war wasn't much to worry about over here in the States for quite a while, but then more countries joined the opposing side and broke up the alliance that had been put in place, and so the war grew bigger, more violent, making the U.S have to join and send out drafts to all the eligible men in the country. Most people were expecting it by that point and were even encouraging the country to send aid, but then the Virus broke out when four bombs filled with special chemicals and bacteria were dropped on San Francisco, New York, Chicago, and Philadelphia. Everyone started getting sick and then died. It didn't spread. But most of the Sci-Fi nerds think this is the start of the Zombie Apocalypse. If only we had listened.

The war efforts had been increased tenfold after that, and more drafts were sent out.

Sam never should have gotten one. Sam is lame in his right leg, a dirt bike accident that never got properly addressed and messed up the rest of his life, well, and the fact that he was a Staff Sergeant in the Army for well over 25 years, getting shot in the leg a few times over that time. He never would have qualified again for the draft, but apparently, things are so bad that they want to send him out onto the field.

"When?" Was the only thing I could get out.

He squeezed my hand and cleared his throat. "Three days."

"Your leg?" I whispered.

"I'll be fine, Ken." He rubbed circles into my hand, trying to soothe me. "Just promise me something." He leaned closer as I nodded.

"Anything."

"Promise me that you'll look after Allie and Connor for me?" He asked. I was the youngest out of the three of us, but he knew that I could handle it. I nodded again and he kissed my cheek before sending me to bed.

After barely holding onto 11 years of life, I had lost both of my brothers, and my father, and after only six months on the battlefield, I had lost Sam, too.

Here is part of the rewrite where I describe where the mane six currently is in life when Screwball is about two years old

As well as a completely separate scene describing the “disappointing” birth of Mothball

Obviously these are going to be tweaked much more in the final draft but here’s a sneak peek of my interpretation of this story ✨

Scene 1

It had been a bit over two years since everything happened, and Fluttershy knew it was not the most… conventional of situations. Especially since it resulted in her marrying the literal embodiment of chaos and disharmony, of course being ironic with her being a part of the Mane Six of Equestria. However, love knows no bounds and they were the living embodiment of it; and Fluttershy honestly could not be happier. She had been able to settle down and feel content with her husband, and most of her friends had been able to enjoy the same luxury.

Rarity had finally agreed to move in with Applejack after being convinced that her wife could not stand the idea of being apart from her family’s farm for longer than what she deemed necessary; but it was the way Applejack had phrased it that eventually persuaded Rarity to accept it: “I was born and raised on that farm, and I will proudly die on that farm just like my ma and pa did”. They’ve apparently adopted two darling little foals, of their own, just a few days ago, and Fluttershy was still debating what she should give them as a welcome present.

Twilight Sparkle claimed that she was in a “long-distance” relationship and did not give much context beyond that, and Rainbow Dash was currently single and perfectly okay with that–turns out her and Soarin did not last long-term but they kept things cordial due to the twins they had a few years ago. Fluttershy did suspect that Rainbow might have been seeing someone on the downlow but was considerate enough not to pry, besides her friend will no doubt shout to the rooftops about her newest partner once she was ready to do so.

And last but certainly not least, Pinkie Pie had ended up marrying her fellow party pony Cheese Sandwich in a surprise shotgun wedding just one month after Fluttershy got hitched. Although it came as a shock to no pony when they ended up having three more foals afterwards, and it was a miracle to every pony that they were all either quiet or shy in comparison to their rambunctious parents.

Scene 2

Chrysalis sighed as she stared blankly from across the cramped nursery at the wiggling and chirping grub that had finally hatched out of its egg, appearing to be a carbon copy of her when she was that age. However, something told her it wasn’t what she had hoped and prayed to their ancestors for.

While she knew it had not been confirmed yet, she already had a bad feeling from the moment the egg began to slowly hatch just thirty minutes prior.

She decided to forgo informing her husband of the news, not being in the mood to watch him shoot dirty looks every five seconds at General Mantis as he sat by her side.

Something they have learned over the years was how to immediately identify the sex of a royal hatchling, and it was quite a simple procedure that could be done in just a few minutes: comparing the weight and looking at how colorful the patterns on its worm-like body are.

And judging by the lack of celebration from one of the nurse Changelings checking it, Chrysalis’s suspicions were finally confirmed.

As she glanced around at the extravagant gifts given to her by officials and family members, she was again reminded of one clear fact: they had been expecting a girl to hatch out of that egg, not the puny male that was chirping desperately for love and affection to feed it.

“Just my luck,” she bitterly murmured to herself, “yet another son; as if I am being endlessly punished by my late mother for my failures.”

The hatchling was staring blankly at her, as if expecting for her to come cradle him like a doting mother but, how could she when she was so utterly displeased with this outcome.

She already had one single daughter, and that was her treasured and idolized daughter, Vespula, the beloved Crown Princess of the Changeling Empire.

I DID IT GUYYYSSS IK LITERALLY NO ONE CARES BUT I FINALLY FINISHED THE DRAFT FOR CHAPTER THREE!!!

It's 2,5k long and wow I'm so proud of me. Ik people write multichapters way longer but I can never finish mine. I've written one shots 5k long but multichapters ?? My kriptonate. I'm so happy djsnsndnndbdbdbd

----

Dabi first heard about the war while changing clothes in the back of an old wagon. She was changing clothes, in the second day of their trip to the east side of the kingdom. They were traveling with more or less fifty people, each with their own affairs to deal with. Most people were riding horses, unicorns, chimeras or other animals, which they were going to do too if it wasn't for Mr Compress pulling a couple favors to get them on one of the wagons.

The guys who were driving it had been talking non-stop ever since they left. Dabi was really, really close to ripping one of their heads off and driving the damn thing herself. She was just finishing putting on a new pair of pants when she heard one of the man mention Chikara.

Chikara was the kingdom next to Akarui. They were insanely powerful and known conquerors. Their king was nameless. Well, probably not fucking nameless. Dabi did think everyone had to have a name. If there was a way to get rid of your name, she'd have found out by now.

In any case, no one knew Chikaras kings name. He was only known as All For One, because of how many soldiers had died fighting his battles. It was whispered in the night, that he had special knights, super strong, enormous and undefeatable. They were called the Order of Doom.

When the woman heard one of the man mention Chikara, she kneeled next to a sleeping Toga and came closer to listen. Though ignoring Tomuras snooring was hard, she still managed to hear the conversation.

"-and she said she was going there!"

" To Chikara ? To fight ?!"

"Yes! I told her it was a terrible idea but she wouldn't listen..."

"I'm sorry pal. I really am."

"It's ok. Me and my wife are working through it. But our eldest daughter ? A spy for the the king ? I mean who would've imagined it!"

"Not me, definitely not me, pal."

"Anyways, that was a couple years ago as you can imagine and her last letter arrived in the beginning of the year. It's been three months since..." He looked back, but everyone was apparently asleep. "Since she told us to run because a war would eclode soon."

"A war ?"

"We are going to Midori to scape... Yes, a war!"

They went back and forth on simpler subjects after that. Partners, kids, food. But the word war kept repeating in Dabis mind for the rest of the night. The temperature seemed to have dropped and the cold wind that came from a hole in the wagons 'ceiling' messed her hair.

War.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

"No! Absolutely not." He pronounced every letter throughly, pinching his eyebrows and twisting his mouth.

"Pleeaaasseee. It's for a friend!" Toga jumped and flapped her hands in the air, and Dabi could see she was mere seconds from taking Shugarakis shoulders and shaking him with all her strength.

"Hey, what's happening here ?" Dabi sat by Shigarakis side, bumling his shoulder. She'd decided it was better to intervine now than to have to deal with a headache later on.

"This dumb blonde bitch-"

"Hey!"

"Call her that again and I'll rip your legs off."

"Sorry. This little bratty asshole-

"Hey!."

"This one's true, thou, Toga. Carry on." Toga made a sour face but didn't protest. Tomura smiled.

"She wants to play at a circus! She thinks she joined a motherfucking clown cult!"

"Hum."

" This is a respectable band! We are musicians! Good ones!" Shigaraki continued, waving his hands as he spoke.

"A friend of mine will be there! The knights in training are going to be special guests. And I heard..." She put one hand on her chin, the other covering half her mouth "I heard the youngest prince is gonna be there." She whispered dramatically.

Dabis heart started beating faster and faster. Her eyes widened, but she forced her normal expression when she realized it. Her hand tightened around the edges of the log they were sitting at. Her other hand dig it's nails into the first one, and soon enough, her skin was soaking with blood and chipped wood.

"Dabi ? You ok ?" Shigaraki looked at her concerned. Toga had apparently seen a butterfly and gotten distracted chasing it.

"Im alright." She knew it wasn't true and she knew he knew it. Her voice was cracking. "We are going to play at the circus."

"What ?!" He jumped in surprise, almost spitting at her.

"Shut up and do it. Don't be a whiney bitch." Shigaraki was probably still chocked given he didn't try to stop Dabi when she got up to leave.

Fuck. Shoto was gonna be there and she'd just agreed to go. No, she demanded to go. What was wrong with her ? Fuck.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

The circus thing wasn't happening for another couple days but she didn't get any rest. First of because they had a couple of presentations already planned. Second because she was thinking of her brother.

Natsuos letters had stopped arriving.

In the first two weeks, she barely noticed it. She was used to letters arriving late, after all she was constantly changing location and although she always gave a list of the places she was going to and the dates to him ahead of time, the mail deliver wasn't exactly precise in Akarui.

But it had been a month and a half. A month and a half since the day the bird left Natsuos last letter in Dabis hand, just after they played in that crowded bar. The mail system might not be precise, but she was pretty sure Natsuo sent his letter through special agente who had pegasus or something like that (she was never that interested in Royal family bulshit ).

  In any case, the thing was that the letter was suppose to be here already. And it wasn't. Something must've happened. Dabi thought of the conversation she'd heard. She thought of the war. Could that be it? Could her brothers and sister – her mom — be in danger? Wouldn't he protect them?

  Wouldn't the king protect what was left of his family ?

  At least, at the very very least, she knew she could keep an eye on Shoto while he was there. Her baby brother. Her responsibility. She hadn't seen him in ten years.  How much had the kid grown ? He was certainly not the little boy she had known anymore.

  Usually Dabi thought being a pessimist was good, only good things cane when her expectations were worse than reality. But at that moment she wished she could hope for something good. If the worse happened... If the worse happened she'd have to get Shoto, her friends and run.

  Oh fuck. Holy. Fuck. She'd forgotten.

  She hadn't told Shoto she was alive. You see, running away from your father was really hard when he was the king. She'd spent months planning it, to scape from hell. She'd planned to take Natsuo and maybe even Fuyumi with her, then  come back to get Shoto and her mom. After that, with the stolen riches she'd set aside, they could have a new life. And who knows? Maybe one day Shoto or Fuyumi could come back to reclaim the throne. When their father was long gone. Not that Dabi would mind taking matter into her own hands if it was for the sake of her siblings...

  In any way, her plans went to shit when The Accident happened. The accident that got her scars, the one she couldn't bare to think about. After it she had to completely change her plans and run off by herself. She scaped in the middle of the night, and met Natsuo in those dark halls to say goodbye.

  He was her best friend, and at the time, she thought that was goodbye forever.

  But despite her pessimistic beliefs, his first letter arrived six months after she ran, when she got her very first job. Since then, they'd been talking regularly ( or as much regularly as one could have conversations through mail). She told Natsuo to not tell anyone she was alive and well, but deep down, she knew Fuyumi had to know. She was the polar opposite of her sister, who was always the perfect elegant, kind, polite princess. Still, they shared a bond Dabi could not explain, a bond of caretakers and of women whose blood was the same.

  Plus there was the fact Natsuo sucked tremendously at keeping secrets.

  Dabi was not sure if Shoto knew, though she thought he probably did; Fuyumi had always been soft for him. Still, he wouldn't recognize her. He probably had faint memories of a face she no longer had. The thoughts of her siblings haunted her during those few days, often making her laugh. She laughed because she couldn't cry anymore, because it was all too absurd, because maybe her life was just a fucking joke to the universe.

  The others soon enough realized she was behaving strangely. For a couple days Dabi was able to hide her ever growing mess of feelings, but they knew her too well. Compress would ask what was wrong when he thought no one else was listening. Toga would braid her hair ( she hated it, and would immediately unmake the braids once Himiko was done.) Spinner liked to invite her to his games to distract her. Magne and Twice were always trying to hug her and get her to open up (which she hated much, much more than the braids, but the intention was sort of nice).

  And Shigaraki... Shigaraki was being distant, and she didn't know why.

  Nevertheless, with suspecting of war to investigate and money to earn, the days passed by quickly enough, much for Dabis happiness.

  "Oh my God, look! The circus is so big! The colors are so, so very pretty too!" Himiko jumped as Spinner tried — and failed — to held her back. "I can't believe I'm going to met Ochaco-chan again! She's the prettiest fairy to ever exist, and also the bravest and strongest knight! Her blood must be so sweet..." She rambled and moved her hands around in the air, spinning in her yellow dress.

  They were all dressed in their fanciest clothes, which included from flowery dresses like Togas to dark suits like the one Twice was wearing. Dabi wore the only thing she had from her old life : the clothes she had scaped the castle with. It was a purple suit with a white shirt underneath, and plain black pants. The suit was adornated in gold, and had the Kingdoms coat of arms in it, because it was for Dabi to use in formal occasions back in the castle. She had covered the coat of arms with a piece of dark fabric, which looked kind of out of place but really, who cared ?

   As they approached the circus, more and more people started looking at them. It was a fancy part of town, not the kind of place they usually played at. When they got there, Compress chatted with the man who was producing the show. Apparently he'd heard them play before, and was looking forward to having them there. Dabi suspected it wasn't true, maybe Toga had threatened someone or bribed them to see the knights in training. She immediately felt bad. Himiko wouldn't bribe anyone. Threatening, maybe, though.

  The inside of the circus was huge, even bigger than it looked from the outside. There were bailarinas and gymnasts in black suits, a man caressing a lion next to them. A beautiful woman with a long beard went over the presentation with the dancers. Clowns ran around, playing with each other, and...

  And an enormous dragon slept in a cage. It was so big the cage could barely fit its wings, and it's deep blue and yellow scales shined in the light. It looked comfortable, at ease, almost like it was safe. But it wasn't possible, dragons had never lived peacefully with humans.

  Dabi must have looked more amused than scared, because the showman, who was chatting with one of the gymnasts, walked towards her eith a smile on his face.

  "Isn't she beatiful ? She's going to be our main attraction tonight." He cackled. Dabi got ready to fight. There was no fucking way she was going to leave someone to be trapped by shitty people, a mere attraction in their shown.

  "She's my wife, you know. She's been resting all afternoon, to have energy to perform tonight. Can you believe she like to sleep in the elephants cage? Haha." As the man laughed Dabi saw that the cage was open, blankets scattered on the floor. The dragon yawned.

  "She sleeps better in her dragon form?" The woman didn't mean to ask, but she was so shocked from the conversation she couldn't help turning thoughts into words.

  "Yes, actually! I find it to be fascinating. Saori says when she's transformed her rest is far better." He looked at her for the first time, staring at her scars. "Do you know any dragons? Perhaps, family?"

  "Yes" she said, and allowed her shoulders to deconstract, her breath to calm down. "I am a dragon." The man widened his eyes even more."It runs in the family." She turned and left.

  ▪︎▪︎▪︎

  The instruments were old, but had clearly been taken good care of. There was a violin for Compress and a piano for Toga, and even guitars for Shigaraki and Spinner. Tomura wasn't happy, he  loved his own guitar, and Toga was usually the only one who relied on other people's instruments. It's not like they could transport a piano, so she only played when there was one in the place they were going to play at already.

  When they were all set, the showman asked them to rehearse with the dancers. Those people were very skilled, jumping and spinning endlessly like it was nothing. Dabi spotted some metaforms among them, which brought her back to the dragon in the cage, Saori.

  Was it really possible for people like her to have something like that? Something alike acceptance? She shut her eyes tight. No. Hope was a damn waste of time. People would just throw her aside again.

  When the spectacle finally started, she was relieved. As soon as it was over they could leave. They could pretend nothing happened.

  Dabi should've thought something like 'relief' would not last long for her. When the showman started announcing the first number, Toga pulled her sleeve and, smile as wide as ever, pointed to the right side of the bleachers. Waiting for her, was a young boy, hair split down the middle. But he was looking the other way, chatting with his colleagues. No, he wasn't looking; but someone sure was. The knights in training hadn't come alone. Dabi found she knew their companion, and almost tripped as golden eyes stared into hers.

@arson-n-barf if you could tell me if there's anything weird here, that'd be awesome! I don't want to be rude as you've already happened me a lot, I'm just happy you're liking the story so no pressure. :)

this isn’t what enemies do (draco malfoy) 2.

Disclaimer: The content which is displayed below holds themes that are considered mature, minors are not to interact, thank you.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x female reader

Summary: It is now month 2 of you and Draco working on your portfolio together. Relations between the two of you strengthen as time goes on, and unknowingly, you begin to fall for him, and walk in on him doing something quite peculiar.

Warning: Angst – conflicting thoughts of Draco liking you or not, smut – male masturbation (minors dni).

Side note: I know I took forever with this, I’m sorry. The next part is the last part.

part one

part three

harry potter series masterlist

“I’ve done a bit of research on this topic and drafted some examples.” Draco pointed towards the sketches of examples he drew last night.

“You’re really good at drawing.” You point out.

Draco feels his cheeks grow red at your words.

No one knew that he could draw. Everyone who was his friends at Hogwarts only ever wanted to associate with him because of his family’s name. None of them took an interest in wanting to know him.

“Thank you… “ He pushed down the butterfly feelings in his chest and concentrated on explaining to you the things he found about his part of the portfolio.

It was now the second week of the second month.

“Okay, looks like we’re ahead of schedule. I assume its because of the tiresome hours put to work on this in the first week.” You lean back and stretch your muscles having been sat in a chair for an unnecessarily long amount of time.

“Better ahead then behind.” Draco smiled.

This was something you had begun to see more and more often now. It was delightful having seen the smile in contrast to his wicked smirk and scowl that everyone was accustomed to.

“Your dorm tomorrow night then?” You asked a bit too loudly, catching the attention of a few witches and wizards nearby.  

“Like always.”

“I think they’re together.”

“They spend way too much time together to just be working on a project.”

“Why would she even spend time with him.”

The whispers and rumours began to swirl around.

You had caught a few people eyeing you out that evening when you went out with your friends to get some food.

Ignore them.

You kept telling yourself that so you wouldn’t have to give them the time of day.

As you sat at a nearby café to have some tea, you began to reflect on just how different Draco was to you a month ago compared to now.

At first, he was demanding and wanting to take lead of the portfolio, not wanting you to mess up. Now, he trusted your work without having to read through it, and let you have an input when it came to his work.

Everything began to change in the first week of the second month.

First week in the second month.

Draco had just gotten back from discussing what needs to be done for the remainder of the portfolio.

The stress from it all was taking a toll on him accompanied by the overwhelming feelings of being around you so much.

He needed to clear his mind, which is why he apparated straight to the new home his parents had been living in.

He walked in and greeted a few of the house elves. Some of them chose to stay and serve the family even after the war, after new agreements were made for them. They would now be able to leave and go to there own homes, work for money and be treated as equals.

“Greetings Master Draco.” Greeted one of the house elves which was there from the time Draco was a baby. She was carrying a tray of tea and some biscuits.

“Hello Hilo, I told you to only call me Draco.” He smiled at her.

“Ah, force of habit.” She said walking with him towards Narcissa’s study.

“Is father home?”

“I’m afraid not, he left to go to the ministry early this morning.” She smiled sadly.

The relationship between Draco and Lucius had improved since the war, although it seemed that his father was working all the time and away from home since Lucius had been helping the ministry with locating Voldemort’s followers.

“I assume my mother is in her study reading?” He said lightening up the topic of conversation.

“You’re correct. That’s where I’m going to now.”

Narcissa was seated in her chair which faced the garden, she was reading a book but looked up when she saw Draco and Hilo.

“I thought I heard your voice. How are you my dear?” She sat her book on the side table and embraced Draco.

“Good as always, and you?” He smiled pulling away.

“Better now that you’re here.” She held a sad smile to her face.

Draco had been spending less and less time with his family. Seeing her only son withdraw from her pained her, but if it was for the betterment of him, she wouldn’t interfere unless he needed her to.

“Hilo, you can leave that on the table and go for lunch. Please inform the others.” Narcissa smiled appreciatively.

“Thank you.” Hilo smiled and waved goodbye to Draco as she exited the room.

Draco takes a seat in the chair opposite his mothers and looks outside to the garden.

“Hilo says that father is at the ministry today.” His tone makes the statement sound like a question – indicating for Narcissa to explain.

“Lately he has been wanting to help as much as he can… I think it’s the remorse from what he has done throughout the years.” Narcissa couldn’t hold back her concern for her husband.

She knew he was remorseful for the deeds he had done in the past, but it was making him pull away from her. She couldn’t deal with this and Draco being distant.

“He contributed to a lot of bad stuff in the past… however, he showcases his guilt and I think he just needs time.” He advices.

Draco didn’t know what his father was going through, all he and Narcissa knew was that he wanted to make up for the years of misdeeds he had done to the wizarding world.

“I miss him… and I miss you.” She said sadly.

Draco hated being away from home, away from his mother. However, he thought it was best for the time being.

“I miss you and father a lot.” He stated honestly.

Draco had then begun to explain what he was doing for his last year in the wizarding graduate programme. He mentioned working with you and how well you work with being an upcoming Auror. Narcissa smiled knowingly.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Draco asked once noticing the way his mother was looking at him.

“I’ve heard of y/n before. From when you both were in Hogwarts. She seems like a very nice girl.”

“Its not like that.” He said with wide eyes.

“Not like what? I was simply stating that she is a nice girl.” Narcissa said shrugging.

Draco stayed quiet not knowing what to say. Narcissa took notice of the blank look on Draco’s face.

“You don’t have to deprive yourself of anything that would make you happy.” She said taking his hand in hers.

His eyes met his mothers, and he could tell what she meant by that.

He contemplated telling her about how conflicted he felt.

“… she makes me feel like I don’t have to worry about the world around me.” He finally said.

Narcissa gave his hand an encouraging squeeze.

“When we were in Hogwarts, she was always so carefree. As time passed by and the war approached, she became so brave. Having to give up who she use to be in order to keep those around her safe. Mother, when I saw her fighting in the war, I wanted nothing more than to protect her, run away with her from the side that could bring her harm. She’s now such a strong person.”

As he stated each sentence, Draco felt himself feeling more and more for you.

“Draco my dear boy. To me it sounds like you’re in love.”

In the same moment that Draco was at his parent’s house, you were in your dorm room ranting to your best friend about how you felt towards Draco.

“I’m going to his dorm tomorrow night, but he has been acting very different compared to how things were in the first month.”

“Maybe he’s starting to realise the same thing you are.” Your best friend stated not looking up from what she was doing.

“And what’s that?” You asked curiously watching her.

“That you’re both in love.” She smiled at you as the words left her mouth.

Love?

Now there’s a word you would’ve never associated with Draco, especially now. You did have feelings for him in Hogwarts, and maybe those feelings were coming back, but could it be love?

Its an emotion you never felt for someone who you would consider to be your forever person.

“It sounds to be like you’re delusional.” You avoided her gaze and woke up from your bed to fold some of your clothes.

“Stage one, denial.” She giggled and went back to what she was doing.

You ignored your words and let your mind linger to Draco once again. Lately he was the only thing on your mind.

Back to current times.

Now, in the third week of the second month, you had become accustomed to just walking into Draco’s room, which is why the current state of him shocked you beyond compare.

You had made your way into his dorm and heard your name being called out very mutedly. As soon as you opened the door, there was Draco, on his bed with his blanket placed loosely on his thighs while the rest of him was… bare.

His hand was around his cock, with his eyes closed tightly and head thrown back.

Your sudden appearance in the room shocked him and made him look to you with confused wide eyes.

“Oh my god, I should’ve knocked. I’m sorry.” You immediately covered your eyes with your hands, dropping whatever you were carrying.

Draco quickly covered himself with a nearby towel since he had just gotten out of the shower. He was so shocked that he couldn’t speak.

That’s when it struck you, as you stood there with your eyes covered and the only boy who managed to make you feel anything standing a few feet away.

He was moaning your name while pleasuring himself.

Tagging those who commented on part one: 

@sycathorn-slush @spideyswebshooters​ 

I Bought A Ring (e.b.)

Summary: Abby’s back and Buck doesn’t know how to handle the news. And neither do you. 

AN: i’m still PISSED that abby came back even if only for an episode, my poor buck was so hurt ): this was something i had deep in my drafts and now that buck is blowing up it seemed like a good time to post it!

there is a buck fic similar to this and i just wanna say that i did not copy or steal the idea. i’ve had this in my drafts for months since season 3 ended so no one stole anyone’s idea! if you wanna check out their fic their username is @lotsoflovefromlea and the fic is titled ‘Second Best’ it’s really really good

You didn’t think you’d have to face the day when Buck’s past came back to haunt him. You were hoping it would stay in the past and you would be his future. But life has a funny way of putting us to the test. 

After the train crash, and Buck saw Abby again, he had been acting distant. Distant enough for you to notice that something was wrong. It wasn’t hard to notice, especially when the two of you live together. 

He would rarely talk when you had the same shift at the 118, there was no conversation during dinner and he’d come to bed long after you had already fallen asleep. 

It had gotten to the point where you didn’t even remember the last time he kissed you or touched you. And you had enough of the maltreatment. 

You exited the shower and saw him standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. You walked down the stairs and stood across from him, the tension between the two of you painfully obvious. 

“What’s been going on with you?” You asked, breaking the ice. “What do you mean?” He asked, not meeting your gaze. “Seriously? Buck, you’ve been acting like I killed your dog for three weeks since the train crash. What the hell is going on?” You explained. 

Buck sighed before looking up at you. He knew he couldn’t keep secrets from you. Including ones that could possibly change your relationship. 

“Abby reached out to me. She wanted to meet up to talk.” He said. Buck could tell by the way your right eyebrow was raised and your eyes narrowed that you were not happy. “Really? And you went?” You asked. “Yeah.” Buck answered quietly. 

You laughed bitterly before walking around the counter back towards the stairs. “God, you just can’t seem to let her go, can you?” You started. “It’s been, what? Two years? Two years since she left you for her ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ experience and got engaged? And who was the one who never left your side? Me. It was me, Evan and even now, you can’t seem to realize how terrible she was to you. Face it, you were her midlife crisis and you fell in love with her and never fell back out. All while making me fall in love with you.” You finished. 

Sure you were a tad bit cruel, but it was what he needed to hear. No one wanting to be the one who had to pop his perfect bubble when it came to Abby. 

“I stayed with you when you were suing the department for christ sake! And I can’t do it anymore, Evan.” You added. There it was again. His dreaded first name. The name you never used unless you were beyond angry with him. And he hated hearing it come from your lips. “Y/N, what do you mean?” He asked. 

Fear was coursing through his body as he waited for you to finally leave him. After everything he put you through, Abby was the last straw. 

“I mean, maybe we should take a break. Until you figure out what it is you really want.” You answered. It wasn’t something you wanted nor did you think it would ever happen. “No. No, no, Y/N, don’t do this.” He begged, walking towards you. “I have too. Since she came back, this relationship has been one sided and I don’t deserve that.” You said. 

“Please, Y/N, I love you.” Buck told you. “Do you? Because you have a funny way of showing it.” You replied. You swiftly grabbed your keys and your purse and made a path towards the exit. “So this is it? You’re breaking up with me?” Buck asked, causing you to stop. 

“I don’t want to. But you seem to have unresolved feelings for Abby and you can’t claim to love one person wholeheartedly when you clearly don’t. Figure it out, Buck. But remember who was here when no one else was.” You answered before leaving the house. 

You didn’t know where else to go after you left. So you decided to go to Bobby and Athena’s. Bobby was like a father to you when you joined the 118 and you trusted him more than you trusted most people. 

After trying to straighten yourself up and wipe the tears from your face, you got out of the car and headed to the front door. You knocked a couple of times and waited for the door to open. 

When it did, Athena’s face softened when she saw you and instantly knew something was wrong. “Y/N? What’s wrong? What happened?” She asked, ushering you inside. “I didn’t know where else to go.” You answered. 

Bobby, wondering who was at the door, turned the corner and saw you standing in the entryway. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” He asked. “Buck and I got into a fight. He went to meet up with Abby and he didn’t tell meand I just, I just don’t understand why he won’t let her go. Am I not enough?” You explained. 

Athena shushed you and pulled you into a hug to comfort you. She knew Buck was stubborn but not so much that you felt you had to leave. Bobby was furious. He hated seeing you so upset and he was frustrated with the young man for making you think you weren’t enough for him. 

After a few minutes, Athena made up the guest bedroom for you and said you could stay as long as you needed. But you hoped it wouldn’t have to be for long. 

__

Bobby arrived at the station in search for Buck and found him sulking while Hen and Chimney were grilling him about his mood. “What’s wrong with you today?” Chimney asked. “Him and Y/N got in a fight last night and she walked out on him.” Bobby answered for him. 

Buck looked up at his captain with wide eyes, wondering how he knew about the prior events. “She stayed at mine and Athena’s last night.” He added. Buck let out a sigh of relief, mainly because he was worried sick about you. You didn’t answer a single one of his calls or texts and he didn’t know where you went off to. 

“Why did she walk out on you?” Hen asked. “Because I may have went to meet up with Abby the other day. And apparently I had been acting distant towards Y/N and she confronted me.” Buck explained. “Seriously? You still have feelings for Abby?” Hen asked. “No, Hen-” Buck tried to explain but was interrupted by his coworkers. 

“Y/N is the perfect girl for you and you’re throwing her away for someone who left you?” She continued. “Hen,” Buck started. “You’re stupid but not this stupid.” She said. “Hen! I don’t have feelings for Abby anymore. I wanted to give her a chance to explain why she left and to thank her. Because if she wouldn’t have left, I wouldn’t have met Y/N.” Buck interrupted. 

“And I,” He started before he stopped himself, not sure if he wanted to tell everyone his secret. “You what?” Eddie asked. Buck looked up at his friends before sighing. “I bought a ring.” He answered. “Wait, what?” Chimney asked. “I bought a ring. I was going to propose but then I got all in my head after Abby showed up. I thought Y/N would say no and she’d leave me just like Abby did.” Buck explained. 

The rest of the 118 crew was silent as they looked down at Buck. Hen sat down across from him before speaking. “That girl is head over heels in love with you, Buck. She has been since the first time she met you and the last thing she would do is leave you like Abby did. Though, because of Abby, she felt she had no choice.” She said. 

“I need to get her back. I didn’t even know what to do this morning without her.” Buck said. “When does she come in for her shift?” He asked Bobby. “She was supposed to be here by now. She left before me.” The man answered. 

Before anyone could form a theory about your whereabouts, the bell went off signaling they had a call. 

They soon arrived to the scene of a car accident, one car completely flipped upside down. 

The 118 stopped short, however, when they noticed who’s car was upside down. It was yours that was hit by a guy texting and driving and ran a red light. 

“Y/N?” Buck called, running to the driver side door. “Buck, you’re too close to this.” Bobby stopped him. “We’re all too close to this, Bobby.” Buck rebutted. Bobby looked at Athena and gestured for her to keep Buck away from the scene. “Keep him away from her.” He instructed his. wife. 

Eddie began trying to get the door off and Hen and Chimney noticed you were still conscious, struggling to get out and stay awake. 

“Y/N, can you hear me?” Hen asked. “Yeah. I-I can hear you.” You stammered. “I have a piece of shrapnel between the third and fourth intercostal space. Mild to severe concussion and around three broken ribs, and a possible pulmonary contusion.” You told them. 

Both EMTs were surprised that you could still diagnose and recognize your symptoms while having a concussion and actively bleeding. 

Once the door was off the car, Hen and Chimney set down the backboard and Eddie began cutting your seatbelt. 

“Where’s Buck?” You asked him. “Bobby won’t let him help. He’s too close to this one.” Eddie answered. “Aren’t you all though?” You joked. Eddie laughed dryly as the seatbelt was cut free. “Can you move?” He asked. 

You looked down at the piece of metal from the seat and back up at him. “You have to pull it out.” You told him. “Y/N,” Eddie started. “Eddie, you have to pull it out or I won’t be able to move. I have a concussion, I’m already bleeding and in about five minutes I’m going to pass out. I will slowly bleed out from the inside if I don’t move. Pull the damn thing out.” You snapped. 

Eddie looked at you for a moment before glancing over at Buck, arguing with Athena. As Eddie pulled the piece of metal out of your side, Buck broke free of Athena’s grasp and fell to his friend’s side. 

“Y/N, baby, are you okay?” He asked frantically. “I’m going to pass out in a couple of seconds so I’m sorry, Buck. For what happened last night.” You spoke, your breathing becoming shallower. “Buck we gotta move her.” Eddie told him. 

Your eyes fell closed slowly and the heart rate monitor attached to you started beeping rapidly. “We gotta get her out now.” Hen instructed. Bobby pulled Buck back as he watched in horror while his friends began giving you CPR once they pulled you from the car.

Your heart beat thankfully went back to normal and Chimney and Hen loaded you into the back of the ambulance. 

Buck took the liberty of joining you considering he was your emergency contact, having no other family in LA.

Once the ambulance arrived at the hospital, Buck, Chimney and Hen were forced to stay at the ER bay, not being allowed to go with you. 

Buck watched as the doctors took you away and this quickly became his worst nightmare. What if you didn’t make it? What if the last conversation you had was a fight? 

Bobby’s hand rested on Buck’s shoulder as they all watched you disappear down the hallway. 

__

It had been hours. Hours of the 118 sitting in the waiting room for you to come out of surgery. Buck was a nervous wreck and no amount of consoling from Maddie or Eddie made it any better. He knew she should have told you about meeting with Abby but he was afraid of ruining everything. But not telling you made it ten times worse. 

“Evan Buckley?” A doctor called, alerting the entire crew. “Th-That’s me. I’m Evan Buckley.” Buck replied. “Y/N is going to be okay. We repaired the damage to her lung as well as the other internal damage she received from the car crash. She still had a major concussion and she’ll be out of commission for a while, but she got incredibly lucky.” The doctor explained. 

Buck let out a very visible sigh of relief, as did everyone else. “Can I see her?” Buck asked. “She’s in the ICU so only a couple of people at a time.” The doctor said. “You go, Buck. We’ll see her when she’s moved to a normal room.” Bobby told him. 

He nodded his head and followed the doctor to your room. He saw you lying in the hospital bed, multiple IVs in your hands and arms and an oxygen tube in your nose. 

Your eyes were still closed but he could tell you were awake, though hearing the doctor’s voice alerted you. 

“Y/N, someone’s here to see you.” You turned your head slightly and saw Buck standing in the doorway. “Hi.” You said quietly, your voice still hoarse from the breathing tube in surgery. 

Buck sat in the chair next to you, his eyes red and watering. “I am so sorry, Y/N,” He whispered. “I should have told you about Abby but I met with her to get closure. And to thank her because if she wouldn’t have left me, I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you.” He added. 

“It’s okay. I should have let you explained.” You replied. “I have something else to tell you.” Buck said. “Oh no, now what?” You joked. “I bought a ring.” He said. “Like, a ring ring?” You questioned. “Yes, a ring ring.” Buck laughed. “Where is it?” You asked.

Buck let go of your hand for a moment and fished the piece of jewelry out of his pocket.

“You have to put it on for me.” You said. Buck looked at you in disbelief as he smiled, sliding the ring on your left finger. “I’m assuming that’s a yes.” He said. “Of course it is. I’d be stupid to say no to you.” You told him with a smile.

Buck squeezed your hand gently as he looked at the ring on your finger. “I never want to come that close to losing you ever again.” He muttered. “You won’t. I don’t plan on leaving you for a long time.” You said. “Good. Because I really don’t know what I’d do without you.” Buck said. 

He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on your forehead as you looked down at the ring. “You did a good job.” You commented. Buck laughed at your comment, causing a smile to grace your face. “Hen and Maddie helped.” He said. “I figured as much.” You replied. 

The rest of the evening, or whatever time of day you thought it was, Buck stayed by your side. Even when the doctors were running their tests and looking over your condition. After almost losing you, there was no way you were going to get rid of Buck even for a moment. 

There and Back Again - Epilogue

GN!MC  TW: Spoilers for Lesson 16, Mentions of Murder and Violence, Trauma, and Panic Attacks/PTSD Summary: What if MC hadn’t been seen by everyone after watching their death and went back to their original time line??  Pt. 1 HERE, Pt. 2 HERE, Pt. 3 HERE, Pt. 4 HERE -  PODFIC The lounge of Purgatory Hall was always a peaceful area. Solomon could often be found lounging there as he read through one of his many ancient, arcane texts. Simeon would sometimes sit at the small table near the window with a hot cup of tea and begin drafting his next work. While Luke preferred to spend his times in the kitchen, but there was always those moments after he finished baking where he’d rush into the lounge excited to show everyone his latest creation. After living in the Hall for a month, you were nearly certain that the room itself possessed a magical quality that soothed all who entered.  All of this made the fact that you couldn’t get your knee to stop bouncing or your heart rate to slow down all the more distressing.  You weren’t the only one who was upset. In your time at Purgatory Hall you had gotten close with the other exchange students in a way that you never got the chance to when living with the brothers. So given the current...situation, all three of them now sat with you as you waited for your guest to join you. “Are your sure you want to do this?” Luke asked for the hundredth time. “You don’t owe those mean demons anything! Certainly not him.”  Simeon sighed and shook his head at his fellow angel, “Luke, you know that it was MC’s idea to meet with Belphegor. This is their decision, and all that we can do is support them through this visit and remain by their side.” Solomon hummed in agreement, “Exactly. Lucifer himself has reassured us that Belphegor appears to have calmed and changed his opinion on the human realm since learning the truth about Lilith. He has been quite eager to see MC, apparently.” 

Luke let out a worried whine as he stood from his chair, “But that’s the problem! He’s eager to see them!!! What if this is all just an act to get close to MC again so that he can-” “Luke that’s enough,” you firmly cut him off as you repressed a shiver from his words. “It’s true that this could all be an act. Just because I’m willing to face him does not mean that I trust him by any means.” You sighed and ran a through your hair, “But I can’t just keep running away and hiding from him. I need to face him. I need to confront him. I need answers if I’m ever going to fully heal and move on from...from my death.”  Solomon gave you a sympathetic smile as he placed a hand on your shoulder. “We won’t let anything happen to you. Lucifer and Mammon will be escorting and supervising Belphegor for the entirety of his visit. The three of us can remain in the room as well, if that would make you more comfortable, and just in case,” Solomon’s hand glowed for a moment as you felt a warm sensation flow within you. “That was a protection spell. Just as extra precaution I’m sure, but at the very least you can feel safer knowing that you are protected.” You nodded in thanks towards the wizard and took deep breath as you glanced at the clock. “They should be here any moment-” As if in on cue, you were cut off by a loud voice filling the hallways.

 “No touching. No yelling. Definitely no hugging. And I swear Belphie, if ya so much as look at them the wrong way-” “Wow. Thank you for this fantastic vote of confidence, Mammon. It’s great to see that you’re still holding something that I literally didn’t do against me.” “OI! Watch it, Cowboy! You’re in no position to be mocking me right now! I am being serious. If I see any signs that you’re making them uncomfortable, ya ain’t even gonna get a chance to say goodbye. Got it?”  “Mammon. Shut up. You’re not helping. He knows the importance of this meeting and the consequences should he step out of line. Isn’t that right Belphegor?” You couldn’t hear the response.  There was a knock on the door before The three brothers came walking in. Mammon taking the lead, Lucifer guarding the back, and sandwiched between them was Belphegor.  Purple eyes flashing in mania as a loud psychopathic laugh filled the room. Pale hands, made into weapons with dangerously sharp claws, digging into your skin as his thick tail wound it’s way around your tighter and tighter as he mocked you. “Does it hurt? Finding it hard to breathe? I’m sure it must be very unpleasant.” “MC!” You yelped as a hand landed on your shoulder. Mammon quickly pulled his hand away and growled as he turned back to face Belphegor and Lucifer, being sure to keep you behind him. “See! I knew this was a bad idea! They ain’t ready for this.” “Yes, I am,” Mammon whipped back around to face you in shock; you offered him a hesitant smile. “Am I scared? Yes. But, Mammon, we’ve talked about this. I need to do this. We’re just going to talk nothing else. If something does happen, I know that I have the Great Mammon here protecting me.”  He looked down at you for a moment, his inner conscious fighting between his fear of you getting hurt and his knowledge that you were right. Eventually, he sighed, shooting Belphegor a warning look, before moving to sit beside you.  Silence filled the room as Belphegor looked at you. You couldn’t read his expression. It was as calm, bored, and collected as usual. He rose a single eyebrow at you.  “So...you’re Lilith’s descendent?” 

You nodded. “And apparently you traveled back in time so that Diavolo would release me?”  You nodded again.  “And in that time, I killed you?”  You tensed and pressed you lips into a tight thin line. “Yes,” you finally spoke, “what I need to know is if I need to worry about you doing it again?”  Everyone in the room tensed at the question. You could see Mammon shift beside you, as though he was readying himself to jump in front of you if needed.  Belphegor chuckled, and felt your blood grow cold. You reached behind you and grabbed onto Mammon’s hand; the demon was quick to squeeze it in reassurance. You shuttered as Belphie’s eyes met yours. 

“In all honesty, that had originally been the plan. I wanted to hurt you as the angels hurt Lilith. I wanted you and the rest of humanity to pay for her innocent blood that you shed.” His voice was filled with such raw anger and grief, so similar to his voice as he mocked you in your final moments, that you couldn’t help but lean back against Mammon.  Lucifer growled as he noticed this, “Belphegor...”  The youngest could clearly hear the warning in his brother’s tone and sighed. “You said to be honest. I’m just fully explaining myself. If you’d let me finish, I was about to say that I’ve realized that anger was misplaced and...” He stared at you with a sad expression, “I don’t want to miss out on my chance to get to know the last part of Lilith that we have left. The truth is that you helped me, time and time again. You didn’t need to do that, but you did, and you put your safety at risk a number of times to do so. I...I never thanked you for that. Because of you, I got my brothers back. I get to be with Beel again, and that means more than you could know, so thank you MC.”  You sat there for a moment, running over his words in your head. You couldn’t explain it, but you could feel some kind of lingering anger boil within you.  He got to be with his family and his brothers. While you had to move away from them because they could no longer ensure your safety. He got to sleep peacefully knowing that he was by Beel’s side again. While you awoken every night by nightmares of what he did to you. And now he’s here, not asking for forgiveness, not apologizing for the pain he put you through (even excluding your murder), and saying that he wants to get to know you.  You glared at him as you felt your hands curl into fists, “I didn’t do it for you.” Your voice was calm, but low and calculated with the risk of danger. You didn’t dare say anymore than that, in fear of ruining whatever slim chance of reconciliation that stood between the two of you.  You felt Mammon place a hand on your shoulder as he leaned down to your ear. “I can make him leave if ya want, MC,” you simply shook your head in response.  Belphie didn’t seem to know what to think of the situation as he cocked his head to the side. “You’re...angry?” He raised his hands up in defense as you shot a glare in his direction. “Okay! Yeah. That’s understandable,” he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, what do I have to do for you to trust me? What happened in that timeline wasn’t me. I mean, yeah I had the potential to do that, but I’m not that person anymore. I want to get to know you like my brothers have. I want to know the person that they’ve all follow around like a bunch of lost puppies and who somehow managed to convince nearly all of them into forming a pact with them.” His eyes widen as he thought of something and he took a step closer to you, “Is that it? Do you want to make a pact with me? Do you want me to give myself to you?”  “Stop.” Solomon cut in frowning as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is your first time meeting them since all of this happened, Belphegor. You can’t just ask them to move on and forgive you right away. Yes, it wasn’t you who did that to them, but the person who did looked, sounded, and behaved exactly like you. Not to mention you admitted yourself, that you had prior intentions to repeat the actions of your past self,” he spat.  “Yeah!” Luke stood directly in front of you and growled in an attempt to look intimidating. “You’re the last person who gets to make any demands from them! You demons have caused nothing but trouble for poor MC, and I for one will not stand by it any longer!” he began marching closer to Belphegor. “Leave. And don’t you dare show your face around here again you rotten, no-good, twisted-” “Down, Luke.” Simeon chuckled as he placed a hand on the smaller angel’s shoulder and pulled him over to him. “That’s a little too extreme. If MC wishes to cut ties with the demons, that is their decision. Thank you for trying to protect them, but let them have a say.” Luke huffed and crossed his arms as he looked away from the group.  All the attention shifted over to you. You had remained silent and pensive during all of this. Not saying a word as you looked at Belphegor through analytical eyes. “I’ll make a pact with you, for the sole reason that should you change your mind and betray me once more, I’ll have the power to stop you.” You stood and approached Belphegor, causing Mammon to make a small noise in complaint. “I do not trust you. I will not  allow myself to be alone in the same room as you for a very long time. I will never let you touch me without specified permission. I do not how long it will be, if ever, before I can even call you a friend.”  Belphegor’s eyes widened as you spoke. His lips parted slightly in shock, and hands curled into fists in an obvious attempt to hold back whatever argument sat on the tip of his tongue. You raised an eyebrow at the observation and stuck out a hand. “If you want any chance at getting to know me, as you claim, this pact is the first step. So you’d be wise to accept it. I usually wait until you guys are more willing to make a pact before striking the offer, but I can’t afford such niceties with you.” The room fell quiet as Belphie stared at your hand. You could see the wheels turning inside his head, as he battled with his past prejudice and his desire to connect with the only surviving piece of Lilith. Finally he took a deep breath, and placed his hand in yours. A surge of magic washed over the two of you as the pact formed; Belphegor couldn’t suppress his wince at the sensation.  The moment the pact was made, Mammon quickly pulled back away from Belphie and into the safety of his arms as Belphie looked down at his hand.  Lucifer cleared his throat from behind everyone as he placed a hand on Belphegor’s shoulder. “I think that that’s enough excitement for this visit.” He gave you a soft smile. “Should you wish to arrange another meeting with him, just send a message to myself or Mammon. I will see you tomorrow for our social visit?” You nodded in affirmation, making Lucifer’s smile grow just a little bit bigger. He began to make his way towards the door with Belphegor in tow. “Come on, Mammon,” he called out without even looking back. Mammon didn’t move. He just stayed exactly where he was and rested his chin on top of your head. “Nah, I’m good. MC and I are gonna have sleep over tonight. Makin’ pacts are probably pretty drainin’ and as their first, it’s my duty to make sure they’re okay.” He paused before quickly adding in, “Not that I’m worried or anything! J-just doing my job! That’s all!”  You giggled and leaned back into Mammon’s arms as Lucifer sighed and Belphegor scoffed. Seeing no harm in the statement, Lucifer allowed Mammon to stay. As the two brothers made their way out of the Hall, Belphegor glanced over his shoulder and smiled at you. “It was nice to meet you again, MC. I look forward to us getting to know each other.” And despite everything, you still couldn’t help but feel a shiver run down your spine as the Belphegor walked away ****This took WAY longer than I meant for it to, OH MY GOODNESS!!! Thank you so much for staying with me on this crazy journey and for all the love and support you’ve given this series! I hope you enjoyed it! Love, B

���� 𝑵𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒀𝒐𝒓𝒌𝑵𝒆𝒘

100 follower special!! Thank you everyone <3

Pairing: Chrollo x fem!reader

Tags: College AU, rich Chrollo, Gossip Girl vibes, this is my first draft so sorry about the errors

Word count: 4.8k

Summary: The infamous October party is all the talk at YorkNew University. It takes place at a huge penthouse in the heart of the city, owned by a mysterious man that few know the true identity of.

You attend the party just having entered your freshman year. There, you meet all sorts of people. But one, in particular, intrigues you the most. His name is Chrollo Lucilfer. He is an expensive suit-wearing, whisky-smelling, suspiciously rich graduate student.

And you are going to try to get him to dance.

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+, Do not drink underage. You should not use any of the actions displayed in the following story as examples for your own life.

Playlist: click here to listen while reading

Ao3: click here to read on ao3

Chapter 1/?

As you walked through the streets of YorkNew City you felt gusts of wind push past you so strongly that they nearly knocked you over. It was already miserable to be outside, and it was only October. The sky was growing dark, the city growing brighter. Fall decorations adorned the buildings you passed. The Southernpiece Auction House looked the most magnificent of them all– with bright colored lights trailing the pathway and walls.

No time to wonder at your surroundings, you thought. You would have four more years to gawk at the city. You pulled your scarf tighter around you as you walked faster. Although you looked cute in your tights, it was definitely not the appropriate clothing choice for this weather.

Your decision to go to YNU seemed perfect in every way. It was one of the top schools in YorkNew and was in the heart of the city. Unfortunately, you failed to realize that the wind would be whipping for three-quarters of the year.

While it wasn’t the biggest “party school,” there was a single big party in October held by one of the fraternities. That party was the one you happened to be heading to right now. Everyone knew of it and talked about it non-stop. You were reluctant to attend. You hadn’t had many real party experiences at high school. For the most part, they consisted of sitting around drinking cheap beer while your classmates humiliated themselves. Your friends had high hopes for this one, though.

For one, it appeared to be in the penthouse of a high-rise building. You checked your phone to see if the location matched the one on your map. This wasn’t the frat house you had been expecting. Although your and the system’s arrows matched, you really couldn’t trust your directional skills, anyway.

Your hands were near frozen, but you managed to press the call button on your friends’ contact.

“Hey Canary?” you don’t hear her reply as music floods through your phone speaker. Seconds later, it becomes quieter, signaling she moved into another room.

“Hey, it’s absolutely crazy up here, sorry.”

You ask her about the address, and she confirms it. She tells you her location at the party so you can find her later. She hangs up before you can say bye or express more of your listless anxieties. Why were you so worried? You had Canary and Amane and… well, you didn’t know many others. And of course Canary and Amane would be all over each other so really you had no one. That was a valid source of anxiety, was it not?

Either way, you needed to step into the building to escape the cold. Perhaps after you warmed up you could make your escape. I knew this was a bad idea.

The entryway was already magnificent, with tall arches and marble floors. A fire blazed near a seating area on the opposite wall. You rushed over to find it unoccupied, thank goodness. You sat as close as safely possible and felt the warmth creep back into your body.

Your head cleared a bit, thoughts straightening out into coherency. You were at your first party. Your friends were all up there already, so you wouldn’t need to wait for them awkwardly. Everything would go smoothly as long as–

Just then, a group of around six people entered the hall. You couldn’t help but stare. One was over six feet tall, another shorter than five. And some were unbelievably gorgeous. One of them particularly caught your eye. He was wearing all black, styled in an expensive coat and dress shirt. His hair was black as well, hanging loose around his pale face. Dark eyes looked towards a man at his right. He walked with such an intimidating stride that you nearly hid behind the sofa. Luckily, they didn’t appear to be heading in your direction.

They probably were all college students, why else would they be dressed up at a random apartment on this specific day? The thought sent butterflies to your stomach. If the group really was full of college students, maybe you should be going to that party.

Not to gawk at them or anything. Based on their looks, you could tell that they were the rich YorkNew city elite-type students, not the federal loan international-type student as you were. In other words, they had power and you did not. It was best to avoid these types of people. You knew that much just from living in the city for a couple of months.

The group was still waiting outside of the elevators. You made possibly the stupidest decision that you could’ve at that moment. You rose from your seat and flattened your hair. You then proceeded to trot right over to the elevator, behind the group. You had to go upstairs somehow, and reaching the top floor through the stairs didn’t seem like the ideal choice.

Clearly still distracted by the image of that man’s face that was now tattoed onto your brain, you didn’t even notice when the elevator doors opened. A voice sounded from inside that snapped you out of your daydream.

“There’s enough room if you want to come in…” it was the same man that you noticed from before.

An amused expression shone on his face– it was as if he was trying to hide a smirk. He placed his hand on the elevator door so it wouldn’t close. You noticed thick silver rings on a couple of his fingers. It was clear from his appearance that he was wealthy. Not to mention, his mannerisms had an undertone of superiority. Despite yourself, this only enticed you more. Who was this man?

Apparently, you were about to find out.

A blush rose on your face as you quickly gave him your thanks and scrambled inside the elevator. He stood directly next to you, with his friends on the sides. The sudden closeness made your stomach flip.

“What floor?” he asked, hand hovering above the numbers on the elevator wall.

You checked the keypad although you already knew that you would all be headed to the same place.

You tried not to look at him as you responded. “Same as you.”

“Oh,” he replied simply.

The rest of the ride was accompanied by a rising tension. The girls behind you made the only conversation, talking in low voices to one another. You were grateful when the elevator finally stopped on the top floor. You quickly walked out and made your way to anywhere but where that group was. On a second glance, you could see that the rest of them also had that air of wealth and superiority that the man had. That was definitely not the crowd you wanted to get acquainted with tonight.

Besides the music thumping through the walls and people waiting around the entrance, the hall outside of the elevator looked like it could be in any other apartment building. There was a large rack full of coats and hangers to your right. As you walked through the long hall you took off your coat and scarf, happy to get rid of the bulky clothes.

Going into the party was still nerve-wracking, but your outfit gave you a bit of courage. You chose a black silk minidress that accentuated your curves perfectly. You wore fishnet tights and combat boots to complete the look. You did your makeup to near perfection, with a bold red lip and your signature eyeliner. Needless to say, you were feeling good.

You almost forgot that the group that was still in the hall until you felt their eyes bearing into you. In your peripheral vision, you saw them take off their coats just as you finished hanging yours. Without another moment of hesitation, you walked quickly to the door.

The music grew louder and you grew slightly nauseous. This night has already been far too much. Is it really the best idea to continue on? It was too late to turn back, as you would be turning to face those who you wished to avoid.

So, you opened the door. You were immediately flooded with lights and sounds and people. The interior was huge. You guessed that this single apartment took up the majority of the floor, and apparently the one above it too. A staircase on the right side led to a balcony overlooking the main room. Couches and furniture lined the walls, pushed away to form a space in the middle. From what you could see, the entire back wall consisted of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city below. If you hadn’t felt so dizzy, you would’ve noticed that the room stunning and grand, unlike any you have seen before.

Students were everywhere, crowding on the couches and the dance floor. You couldn’t make out many faces as the neon lights were dim. You guessed that there were at least seventy people in this room alone.

The music thumped in your bones. You tried to focus on the lines of the song playing instead of your rising panic. “Oh god can you make my heart stop… killshot baby.”

After assessing your surroundings, you made a quick beeline to the kitchen, where Canary said she would be when you called her earlier. The walk was only quick in theory. It took you around five minutes to make your way across the room. It wasn’t the most pleasant experience, weaving through drunk bodies dancing with fervor. You smelt the sweet smell of vape smoke mixed in with the sweat. Heads turned to look at you but you did not look back. Nothing interested you more than finding your friends. Meeting other people could come after you were settled.

You bitterly realized that it had been a bad idea not to come with Canary and Amane an hour earlier. You thought as little time as possible spent there would be ideal, as it was your first time at a college party. Little did you know that arriving late would mean a frantic search for your friends amidst the chaos.

At last, you came upon an opening in the wall that seemed to lead to the kitchen. There were neon lights in there as well, lining the counters and cabinets. White marble countertops glinted underneath bottles of alcohol.

There were significantly fewer people crowded into this tiny space. About fifteen people stood around, drinking and talking with one another over the music. Without thinking, you grab a bottle of beer as you pass by the counter on your way to the other side of the room. There was an empty corner that was calling your name. From there you could observe the faces of the people around you. And possibly get a bit drunk while you were at it. You figured it was the only way you could survive the rest of the night.

As you scanned the faces your heart sank. You didn’t see your friends anywhere. Maybe they already moved to the dancefloor. You take another swig of the beer and pull out your phone.

The dial tone for Canary sounded just as you spotted a familiar face. He was leaning against the wall on the other side of the room with his arms crossed, talking to an attractive red-haired man standing next to him. Your mind was slowly growing hazier, but that didn’t mean you forgot about the man from before.

You quickly averted your eyes. Canary didn’t pick up your call so you decided to text her. All the while you felt your heart begin to thrum. Did that man intimidate you? Or was it just because you thought he was incredibly hot?

You couldn’t say for sure, as you have never felt this way about a person before. He looked older than you, a graduate student perhaps. Anyway, he was far out of your reach in terms of people you could talk to. So, you decided right there and then to stop thinking about him.

You wait a few more minutes for Canary’s response. She doesn’t reply to your text. You grit your teeth and pick up another bottle of beer from the counter. Unfortunately, the bottle opener was nowhere to be seen. Just my luck, you thought. Rather than going without the beer, you pulled out your keys and tried to pry the lid off with your sheer force. But your hand kept slipping and you were beginning to feel a bit embarrassed. You cursed yourself under your breath and looked around to see if anyone noticed your clumsiness.

Accidentally peering towards the wall where the man was before, you notice that he was no longer there. You didn’t know why you cared so much about the opinion of a stranger.

You were about to put the bottle down when you sensed someone next to you. A voice that smelt of whisky and cigarettes spoke, “Need some help there?”

You retracted at the sound and sensation until you noticed who spoke. It was him. You froze, unsure of what to do next. Slowly, your eyes trailed up to his face.

You tried not to stare as you took him in full, now that you were finally face to face. The low neon lights highlighted his strong nose and sharp jawline. His black hair was messily swept from his face, displaying a cross tattoo on his forehead that you hadn’t noticed before. He wore small silver hoops in both ears. Shadows formed across his deep-set eyes as he regarded you, emotionless and still.

He asked you again, pointing to the unopened bottle, “The beer?”

You gave him a nervous laugh, “Oh, yes. I don’t know where the bottle opener went…”

He still stood unusually close to you. Obviously, it was only so that you could hear him better over the loud music. Still, it made your heart flutter. You averted your eyes from his only to see the sleeves of his black dress shirt rolled up, displaying strong arms and hands.

You tried to tell yourself that he was just being nice. And you were making a fool of yourself, just as you were before at the elevator. You knew you had no chance with him, even though a party was a more relaxed environment than most. He would want nothing to do with you after he helped you again. These intimidating upperclassmen were the same.

The man said nothing as he placed the edge of the bottle on the counter, with the cap at the edge. Those beautiful, white marble countertops. Surely he isn’t going to…

With a slam of his palm, the cap came clear off.

“Here,” he said simply.

Why, you wondered, was that so attractive. You couldn’t possibly be getting turned on by the opening of a bottle. Maybe it was only due to the way he did it, displaying his strength so boldly.

He noticed your expression and laughed lightly. “It’s fine, I own the place.”

You couldn’t hide your surprise at his statement. If he was a graduate student, how could he possibly be making enough for this entire place? And you were told it was a frat house, not a single apartment?

A little bit of talking wouldn’t hurt, no matter his status. So you decide to allow the questions to flow. Perhaps the beer was finally loosening your lips and easing your anxiety. You really should’ve been searching for your friends, but it seemed that your body thought differently. Something about the man drew you in. Whether it was his flawless appearance or genuine kindness towards you, you weren’t sure.

“You own this place?” you questioned, leaning a hip on the counter with your beer in hand.

He gave you a small smile, clearly trying to appear humble. “Yes.”

All you managed to say was, “How?”

Was it genuine interest in his face that you saw? Or was he simply happy to boast about his tremendous earnings?

“My company. The dealings bring in solid money, so I decided to purchase this place.” He waved a hand, gesturing towards the general direction of his massive living area.

“Your company? Do you go to YNU?”

He couldn’t be that old to have established his own company. And if he was, surely you would’ve heard about it, as he would be famous. Perhaps he was like many of the other kids at this school, enjoying a trust fund to their name and claiming it all to be their sheer success.

He grabbed a beer from the table and opened it the same way as he did before. He seemed to almost be growing bored of the conversation, needing to drink to distract himself. He became more distant as the small talk continued.

“Yes. I’m in the first year of my graduate program. And you?”

God, those eyes. It was hard to maintain eye contact with him for too long. It felt as if he was simultaneously calculating you as if you were a complex math problem while trying to appear as emotionless as possible.

He was the one who needed calculating. His appearance was already bizarre, with the cross tattoo displayed so boldly on his forehead. But the fact that he was only in his first year of graduate school and already running his own company was too much to comprehend. All you wished for was to know more about this strangely alluring man.

You were about to reply when you heard your name being called from the crowd in the large room. Giggles followed the shout.

Canary and Amane were thrust out of the mass of bodies in the living area. Canary wore a minidress and Amane wore a dress shirt and pants, now significantly disheveled. They were smiling like mad.

Your heart jumped at the sight of them. Finally, you were safe. That was your immediate thought until you saw the stumble in their walks. They were drunk.

Canary slurred your name again. “We’ve missed you! Where were you?”

“I was here in the kitchen, where you told me to wait. Remember?”

Canary and Amane simply gave each other a knowing look and giggled. You had almost forgotten the man who still stood behind you.

“We’ll leave you to it then,” Amane said, making it obvious that she was referencing him.

They were about to leave when you called out. “Wait!”

It wasn’t that you weren’t absolutely entranced by the man and wouldn’t give everything to talk to him for even one more minute, it was just that your friends needed you.

You turned to see the man now farther down the counter, talking to the red-haired man again. He noticed your apologetic look and walked towards you.

“Sorry I have to–”

Your sentence trails off as he looks down on you with a slight smile, arms crossed. You almost want to take a step back, his look too penetrating and revealing.

“What is your name?”

You widened your eyes. He wants to know your name. What were you supposed to make of that?

You give him your name.

“I’m Chrollo,” he replies, sticking his hand out for you to shake as if you were making a business deal. You try to hide your laugh.

He simply smirks back at you as you take his hand. The cold metal of his rings contrasted with the warmth the both of you were emitting. The front of his hand was smooth, with light veins running towards his knuckles. A sign of strength. Moreover, his palm rough. His grip was firm and confident as if he had something he wanted to convey with this handshake. What that was, though, you couldn’t be sure.

You felt a tap on your soldier and knew it was time to go with your friends. You just couldn’t manage to turn away. You already began to think, what if I never see him again? What if he doesn’t want to see me again anyway?

“Nice to meet you, Chrollo,” you said before finally turning your back. You felt his eyes bearing into your back as you left. At least, you hoped it was your back. You weren’t used to the tightness of your dresses’ material and the looks that coupled it.

You silently praise yourself for your unusual boldness toward Chrollo. Maybe you were bold enough to make an impression. An impression was really all you could hope for, at this point. That man was impossible to read.

Before you left the kitchen, Amane held out a small cup for you containing a clear liquid. You hardly hear what she says it is before you knock it back. The taste burns your throat. You figured you would need whatever it was before heading out to the dance floor. Amane and Canary do the same as you (as if they needed it, as drunk as they were).

As Canary grabbed your hand, Chrollo’s name echoed in your mind. Where have you heard it before? You probably could remember if you hadn’t drunk that last shot.

“Who the fuck was that?!” Amane nearly screamed into your ear. You were nearing the main dance floor. The sound was deafening and you felt the thump of music in your bones.

“Chrollo. He owns this place, apparently,” your voice gets lost in the noise.

“WHAT?” Canary yells. You were deep into the mass of people so talking was virtually impossible. There was space to move once you reached the center. It was far enough from the speakers that you could hear fragments of speech from the other people beside you. The sound still bounced off of the tall ceilings, echoing through the large room.

A new song started to play and you began to dance. You, Canary, and Amane danced stupidly, movements sluggish yet wild from the alcohol. It was the most fun you had in a long while. Maybe going to the party wasn’t such a bad idea after all. At that point, the anxiety all but left your body.

After a couple more songs, you decided to try to find your way out of the crowd to take a break. Your body ached with all the movement and sensation. Amane and Canary remained on the floor, although they insisted on following you. It was a slower song, anyway. You couldn’t be caught on the floor with no partner.

At last, after much shoving, you found a wall you could rest against. It just happened to be the wall with the floor-to-ceiling windows. It was far less crowded here. The cold glass felt incredible after the mass of sweat that was the dance floor.

The city lights reflected in the glass

You were close enough to the kitchen to peer through the entrance. When you did so, you couldn’t see Chrollo or his friend. Rather, they were talking to one another next to the kitchen, along the plane of windows.

Suddenly, the glass didn’t feel so cold anymore. You began to heat up just at the sight of him. It was too late by the time you looked away, they had noticed your gaze. Chrollo caught your eyes and your heart skipped a beat. But it wasn’t Chrollo who came over to you. It was his friend. You looked towards the red-haired man with apprehension. This wasn’t middle school, was it? Was Chrollo getting his friend to act as their in-between? No , you told yourself. This sly-looking man is clearly here for something else.

“Hello there,” he said in a sultry tone. He leaned against the window just as you did the same.

His red hair hung loosely around his yellow eyes. He wore a loose dark purple dress shirt and black pants.

Your patience was running out. “Who are you?” And why are you not Chrollo?

“Hisoka. And you must be y/n, right?”

Your eyebrows rose as you nodded. Had Chrollo already mentioned you to Hisoka? What made you worth mentioning? Well, apparently you were about to find out.

“I was wondering, dear, would you dance with me?”

That was unexpected. You turned to face him to observe his expression and the one of the man behind him. Chrollo’s face was bank but his eyes looked stormy as if to issue a warning to Hisoka. Something in Chrollo’s look made you want to accept Hisoka’s offer, just to see his reaction. The slight changes in his expression were endlessly entertaining. If doing something as reckless as dancing with a man you had just met would warrant a change, you would happily oblige.

Hisoka’s smirk vanished as you replied, “Sure.”

Now it was your turn to look smug. Chrollo’s eyes widened slightly but he still remained silent, several feet away with his back against the window. If Hisoka was anyone else, say a person who didn’t radiate his dangerously sexual appetite, perhaps Chrollo would’ve been less surprised.

Although you assuredly gave him your answer, you knew you couldn’t trust this man. His sly expression persisted as he snaked a slender hand across your waist. You didn’t turn to see Chrollo’s expression but you could feel a pair of eyes on your back as you walked away. How unfair it was, that Chrollo always got the last look.

Hisoka led you to an opening on the dance floor that was situated near the staircase. He immediately pulled you to his chest. You gasped at the sudden closeness. You felt his torso with your own, his hardened with muscle. He moved his hands tighter against your waist and you nearly melted into the touch.

You were drunk. He wasn’t who you wanted. But you could easily pretend he was.

You tried to peer back to the spot where Chrollo was standing. It was far too dense and dark to make out any faces besides the one of the man before you.

He wasn’t Chrollo, but he was unquestionably attractive. His sharp features were riddled with confidence. He carried himself as a king would, so self-assured that he was borderline unaware.

The slow song had since ended and a faster one began to sound. You began to feel the rhythm and danced along, Hisoka pulling you closer all the while. Although you were significantly intimidated by Hisoka, it was still fun. You couldn’t tell if either of you was dancing well or making a fool of yourselves. All you knew was sound, movement, and the touch of his body to yours.

After another song or two suddenly Hisoka pulled apart. He wore a malicious expression.

“I have to go,” he said, simply.

He didn’t give you a chance to reply. He waltzed up the stairs to the balcony that you were dancing near. You trailed your eyes to where he stood, hands on the railing talking to the person beside him. It was the blond woman you saw earlier, the one who was with Chrollo’s group…

And next to her was Chrollo. He was holding onto the railing for dear life as if he would fall to his death if he let go. A fear of heights? No, you didn’t think so. Based on his facial expression, he looked almost bitter. You didn’t deem that possible based on his mild mannerism so far. And what reason would he have to be angry?

An idea sparked in your mind. A stupid one, undoubtedly. But Chrollo and his group were far too interesting to ignore for the rest of the night.

It was probably too dark for them to see you amongst the crowd, but you crouched as you moved away anyway. You sensed the tension in their conversation all the way from the floor below. You would wait until Chrollo cooled off a bit and then make your move.

You head back to the kitchen to have another drink. You go for something stronger, a shot of a pale liquid that you didn’t know the name of. Or rather, you were too distracted to care.

You made the perilous journey back to the balcony, dodging limbs and drunken stupors. It was nearing midnight at this point and the crowd was sufficiently rowdy. You think you spot Canary dancing near the back wall, but you couldn’t be sure. You will let her have her own fun tonight since you already found yours.

From below, you could see that Chrollo, Hisoka, and the woman were still leaning against the balcony railing. As you dizzily mounted the steps, you realized that Chrollo looked as perfect and intact as when you first saw him, all those hours ago. He must’ve not danced the whole night, even though it was his own party. How strange. Well, you were about to try and change that.

“Hey,” you said as you waltzed up to Chrollo. There was a bit of a stumble in your step so you quickly made use of the railing.

Chrollo no longer had a death-grip on the bar. He looked at you with a blank face.

“Hello,” he replied.

His friends glared at you so hard that you nearly turned back around. You seem to have interrupted an important conversation.

You lazily move closer to Chrollo and speak under your breath, so that his friends don’t hear, “Want to dance?”

the art of modernity [ chapter two ]

chapter two - instant oatmeal pairing: xiao x gn!reader warnings: canon-typical violence mention, nothing that hasn't already been done in this series. words: ~2.6k words fic masterlist [ prev ] - [ next (tba) ] chapter summary: under yanfei's watchful eye, you sign a contract with xiao for him to stay with you. he's not very pleasant, but you realize you know exactly how to change that. a/n: which means next chapter kicks off the fluff. let's gooo this is our last hard exposition chapter. thank u to everyone's interest so far!

you wake with a jolt.

empty bed? check. still alive? check. no adeptus hovering over you like edward from twilight? check. aches and bruises from yesterday? ... unfortunately, check.

as you sit up, your muscles scream at you to lay back down, yet your mind tells you to go, go, go and find the adeptus before he can kill you. it takes a moment of regulated breathing to actually remember what happened yesterday after the group of five-turned-six of you left jueyun karst.

one: xiao accompanied you back. with only five seats in the car, yanfei ended up sitting smushed between kaeya and xiao. she hadn't complained and the uncomfortable trip back for her served as a minor revenge for her not revealing her (partial) adepti ancestry. you had been slotted in the front passenger seat, next to keqing, who gripped the steering wheel so hard that you feared she would rip it off. the drive back was in silence. childe made a joke at one point. kaeya had laughed, then remembered where the two of them were. nobody laughed after that.

two: yanfei and xiao had dragged you to your apartment. keqing, kaeya, and childe were far too enthusiastic to let the three of you go, yet you couldn't blame them. yanfei had a bounce in her step, while xiao looked as if he was being walked to a morgue, all while looking vaguely nauseous. you had wondered if that was his first time ever in a car.

three: yanfei drafted a contract. thousands of years of experience practicing law (a fact you had learned unwillingly and uncomfortably as yanfei rambled on to fill the awkward silence between the three of you) led to yanfei taking less than an hour to draft an entire forty page document on an agreement of a "truce" between you and xiao, along with adding details of how she would pay you for xiao to stay with you in your apartment and how xiao would be forced to cooperate with any potential mythological studies you might enact.

four: you deeply offended the adepti... or something. you weren't really quite sure what you said wrong, but apparently "yanfei, this contract means nothing if i wake up with a blade in my throat because xiao decides he doesn't like the 'vibes' i quite literally cannot control." was not an appropriate thing to say. yanfei had giggled, yet xiao had looked as if you had slapped him across the face. he muttered something under his breath about how mortals could never truly comprehend the importance of the work of the god of contracts (who had died over a thousand years ago, might you add). yet, he signed his portion of the contract nonetheless and you followed suit.

five: yanfei had left you alone in the apartment with xiao. xiao introduced himself, as if you hadn't been the one to accidentally summon him in the first place and as if he hadn't been the one to threaten to kill you. his words were forced, awkward, and gruff, as if he wasn't quite sure how to address you. in order to spare the two of you from the ugly bonds of small talk, xiao had retired to the cramped small bedroom you had been trying to rent out to someone for months.

six: you went into your bedroom. you went to sleep.

which, inconveniently, leads to now. the yaksha upheld his end of the bargain. he slept..? do adepti sleep? you aren't quite sure and old scholars aren't exactly the type to describe sleeping patterns of the supposed-mythological adepti in detail, yet you figure that you'll find out soon enough one of these days, now that one is living with you.

archons. that fact had yet to fully sink in too. maybe one day, you would finally feel ecstatic over proving a myth to be real and having it choose to dwell in your apartment for some reason. maybe you would also be overjoyed that you were a descendant of a god, even if many generations separated your bloodline that has long since been diluted by humanity. but for today, you could not worry about such things. the adventurer in you had been humbled yesterday. now, you just have to face the music.

if only yanfei had revealed she was half-adeptus sooner, maybe you wouldn't have to worry about xiao deciding he's had enough of the weird energies you inadvertently give off and attacking you. but for now, you check your phone for the time and any notifications, then stumble out of bed and into the kitchen.

in the kitchen, a broad open concept with the living room, you spot xiao sitting at the counter of the island. his brow is furrowed and he noticeably perks up at your entrance, as if he was almost excited to see you. before you can get your hopes up, your stomach growls and you figure xiao is likely in the same boat.

"your home is filled with... strange contraptions," xiao says. "it appears you mortals have progressed at an unexpected rate."

this adeptus is far too chatty for what the microwave says is 8:32 a.m. on a saturday morning. yet, it does not appear to come easily from him. his words are slow and you have no doubt that he is weary of you and your intentions.

"yeah, it's called technology. we can heat up food without lighting a fire, store food in portable cold temperatures, and blow wind around using automated fans. yet, it's all powered by electricity," you explain sleepily, not sure if your words make sense. the small huff of acknowledgement that the adeptus lets out is more than enough to know that your words at least make some sense. either that or he's trying to appease you, but based off what little you know of xiao, he doesn't quite seem like the type.

"you mortals appear to focus on convenience rather than necessity," xiao grumbles after some thought. was he always going to be this... haughty? sure, adepti are immortals in comparison to humanity, but that doesn't make them superior. their time of rule has long since passed, so why does xiao still hold a guarded sense of righteousness over you? whatever. if you are part-god like yanfei says, it's not like he has any reason to be gloating over you anyways... right? despite your research into liyuean mythology, there's not quite much to go off of on partial-adeptus and partial-god relations in comparison to full deities.

but either way, this was the modern day and the adepti sat in their abodes rather than helping humanity, so out of spite, you grab a packet of oatmeal from the cabinet before sliding it his way.

"make the oatmeal yourself, then," you say evenly, trying to leave snippiness out of your tone. it doesn't work well, judging on the way xiao's brow furrows in irritation. nonetheless, xiao pinches the paper packet between two fingers as he reads the label.

"i am not a fan of oatmeal," he decides after a few seconds, dropping the packet back onto the island countertop. even in your tired state, you can still call his bluff. oatmeal didn't just come around yesterday. it's not like you're throwing a processed big mac at his face and expecting him to come to terms with it.

"what food do you like, then?" you ask, curiosity genuinely piqued. even if you thought he was bluffing, this was a way to learn about the appetites of the adepti and how they differed from humans. this was information that had yet to be recorded and it was information from a primary source. dietary information could be used to better understand offerings placed upon adepti alters by ancient liyueans and-

"almond tofu," xiao states plainly. "and mint jelly."

you stare at him. you blink. you blink once more. despite your silence as you mull over his confession, you cannot bring yourself to actually think about your words before you say them. therefore, you ask xiao a question.

"wait, do adepti prefer soft foods due to their teeth or digestive system or something? does taking on a human-esque form not provide you with the same eating capabilities as humanity? because-" you trail off on seeing his slightly irritated expression. oh.

"you truly consider adepti not being able to able to consume mortal foods a possibility? do you have no respect for the adepti?" xiao seethes, amber eyes narrowing as he glares at you.

oh. right. respect. hm. xiao being born in a time where respect towards members of a higher social hierarchy has altered how he views the two of your interactions, yet increasing interconnectedness amongst humans through technology and the collapse of social divisions has led to current-day humans viewing all as equals and addressing them as such, besides the given familial hierarchies. but xiao is not family to you. he is no greater than a stranger in your eyes, yet there is a stark contrast in how he views himself compared to you.

in this moment, you realize you have made an error. you view xiao as a potential friend, while xiao views you as no more than a subject of the long-since-dead rex lapis. he is one of rex lapis' closest comrades, while you likely never would have set eyes on the god apart from the rite of descension if you had lived in the same time period as him.

yet, you're not really sure how to address xiao with the level of respect he desires. after all, you're rather... unrefined. sure, you could use what little formalities the language provides such as sir or o holy adeptus xiao, of which thine hast protected liyue for many millennia, yet neither seem too appealing. he's your roommate, it's not like you're approaching the altar to worship him. you're approaching your kitchen. your name is on the lease after all.

so, you take a step back, fold your arms over your chest, and lean your back against the cool metal of your refrigerator. you were in no mood to pick a fight, but if asking the adeptus basic questions would get him this riled up, you would seek to terminate your living situation as soon as possible. he at least had to attempt to be pleasant, even if you had a tendency to overstep the supposed boundaries of him that absolutely perplexed you.

"adeptus xiao," you begin. your tone is even and xiao looks almost curious at your sudden, cool tone. "do you view yourself as above me?"

"the adepti are far stronger than mortals, thus it is a part of our duties under our contracts signed with rex lapis to help protect humanity," xiao says. his tone is slightly harsh and yet his evasive words are enough to give you your answer.

"as an adeptus once under rex lapis, you are thus beholden to any contract you sign? as like a... duty thing of sorts," you ask and xiao nods in agreement. you let out a slight sigh as you collect your thoughts.

it is time to channel your inner yanfei. you blink and plaster a polite, small smile on your face. that's what yanfei does in the court room, right? in her delivery of information, she must seem firm but pleasant enough to want to listen to, in order to convince the jury. but you are no yanfei and you have no jury. instead, you just have a several-thousand-year-old partial deity sitting in your kitchen with a packet of instant oatmeal in front of him. yet, for your own sanity, you must try.

"i am... unsure as to why you wanted to live with me. you do not seem like the city type nor the type to want to associate with humans, but we all have our secrets, i guess. nonetheless, you agreed to sign the contract, which means you are thereby subject to its terms, right?" you ask and xiao gives a rough nod in return.

"the contract does not say that i cannot admonish your... impudent questions," xiao states and you feel like a snezhnayan ice fisher who has just gotten a bite on their line. you bite back a giddy smile at luring xiao directly into your trap.

"correct, but you are subject to participating in my studies of the adepti, provided that they do not bring you psychological or bodily harm," you say and xiao suddenly looks wary at whatever this conversation might be leading to.

"i suppose," xiao says, revealing his uncertainty. "that the contract does enlist those terms."

"well then, adeptus xiao. i have decided upon our newest study," you say and, despite how hard you try to hold it back, a grin spreads across your face. the adeptus sits up a bit straighter at your words, yet remains silent as he waits for you to continue.

"our first study of the adepti will consist of only you. i do not need for you to request of the assistance of anyone else, unless if you need it. but, i'll be trying to figure out one thing!" you say and xiao looks annoyed as to how you keep dragging this out, so you decide to cut it short before he can snap at you once more. "for our first study, we'll be focusing on what it will be like for an adepti to live amongst mortality and live a typical mortal life."

xiao stares at you. if he's furious, he hides it behind his expressionless face. for once, his typical scowl isn't there, yet you feel almost reassured at his seething reaction. sure, he might be angry, but he respects his previous master too much to defy the bounds of the contract this early, right? your suspicions are confirmed as he exhales sharply, followed by a tight nod.

"you wish for me to live as a human?" xiao questions and you nod enthusiastically, taking a step forward and resting your hands on the opposite side of the kitchen island from him. you careen forward and stare directly into the amber eyes belonging to the adeptus that nearly killed you yesterday. adrenaline rushes through your blood as you realize exactly what xiao signed himself up for.

xiao has inadvertently wrapped himself around your finger and you're determined to make his stay an enjoyable one, even if he loathes the idea at the moment.

"exactly! you don't have to take a mortal form or anything, i'm just interested in seeing as to how you would adjust through going through the typical mortal routine. as for me, i'll be your tour guide through all of this, so don't worry!" you say. your words provide him little relief and xiao stares at you cooly.

"fine. i will participate in your... research," xiao confirms reluctantly after a few moments of silence and you have to bite back an excited squeal. getting to show an adeptus everything humanity has to offer? the excitement nearly overwhelms you, but you have to squash your excitement to focus on the situation at hand.

"alright then. for our first task, i'll show you how to make instant oatmeal! but, there's more than just that flavor," you state, gliding over to the cabinets and pulling out the box. you hastily slap it on the table and push it gently over to him. "take your pick!"

xiao eyes the box uneasily.

yeah, this is good enough revenge for nearly killing me, right?

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it’s your birthday?

As luck would have it you once again find yourself in a breakout room with Harry

Word count: 3296

A/N: Hello friends, it’s a new semester and it felt only right to continue breakout room, a story that was well loved by you. The inspiration once again came to me during class and also because it’s Harry’s birthday. Thank you to the lovely @soullikestyles for reading this over. Here it is, enjoy!!!

I hope you love this, it is a continuation from Breakout Room 

Please shoot me a message of what you thought!!!!

i love you, take care xx 

_____

It's the start of a new semester. It's safe to say you did not make any friends last semester due to this ongoing pandemic, but what you did manage to get was a 3.9 G.P.A for the Fall semester. It was probably because you did not leave your apartment, and when you did, it was to go grocery shopping with your roommate, who would be dead without you because, as she liked to put it, you're the chef, and she's the taster. 

Well, you maybe did make one friend. 

Harry Styles.

He was the person to talk to you during a zoom breakout room in your women's gender studies course.

Sure, you were never in the same room again, but you might or might not have pinned his face during one of the professor's long ramblings that is no longer related to the course. 

He was pretty to look at; you would never deny that. 

No, with the floppy curls that he almost always seemed to run his hand through, then stopping when one of his rings got caught in a knotted ringlet. His camera would instantly turn off, and in thirty seconds, he was back as if nothing had happened. The glasses framed his face just right, making his eyes look soft and inviting. Also made his dimples stand out. He almost always wore a different colored cardigan. Your favorite from the semester was when he wore a multicolored cardigan. That looks like it was knitted; there was a hole by his heart. Honestly, you were hoping he had, would have made him even more endearing. 

Also, might one day ask him to make you one, or he could even teach you. You're a fast learner and have patience. 

He's got a great choice in clothing from what you was able to observe in such a short time—also a lovely personality. 

After his initial email, you decided to answer, thus creating a chain of messages back and forth. He was honestly funny, and that was just on paper. He had asked for her number and said no, and he respected that. It doesn't mean they never helped each other in the class; Harry asking for more help than Y/N. She sent him over her notes and explained the readings he found harder to grasp. 

As soon as finals week hit, she received her last email from him with the subject as Goodbye. It took you by surprise, and you erased the draft you had waiting for him that had your phone number wanting to keep talking to him. Still, clearly, he thought of them as just classmates for the semester, so without even opening his last email, you trashed it. 

You felt guilty about it, so you then transferred it to your archives, where it sits with other unwanted emails. 

_____

The holidays are over, and since you could not make the trip home, you celebrated with Amy, your roommate. You both help each other buy your family's presents, looking for the best discounts and adding extra items to get the free shipping. Together, well, mostly you as she handed you pieces of tape you wrapped present after present in brown wrapping paper. It was harder to tear and more comfortable to decorate in any way you wanted. On each box, it had everyone's name written in beautiful handwriting, courtesy of you. Then you would add snowflakes or stripes to make it stand out. 

It was a success from their looks when each gift was open through the zoom call. 

The month break flew by, and the next thing you knew, it was time to be back at your desk for hours of learning. It was fun until it wasn't sure there was a lot to look forward to, but you would miss sleeping all day and eating snacks in bed with no fear of forgetting to submit an assignment. 

This semester you had four major courses. Psychology of Personality and Psychology of Aging were the two courses you were most looking forward to. You decided on taking the women's gender studies class called Politics of Sexuality. You had gotten the recommendation from the department's head to take it and did so without a second thought. Yes, fifteen units was a lot, but you were close to graduating, and you knew you could handle it. 

The first week flew by because it was merely going over the syllabus. You had your camera on, but you did not bother to look at your other classmates. Sasha, a fellow person in your major, would be your study partner as she had been all semester. Sasha might not always be in the class section, but she did take the same professors and courses. It makes studying and taking notes easier. You know you won't always have Sasha, but having a study partner has ever made you do better. 

February 1st. The start of the second week of the semester. 

You woke up at seven, got the tea that Amy had ready for you, and were sitting at your desk by eight. Your professor droned on about the first chapter of the book. You felt confident knowing you understood the significant points. 

It's 11:30, and your second course of the day is going to start. You were not looking forward to the class simply because Dr. Rossi had warned you he would be putting you into breakout rooms of two. That person would be your partner for the semester. You had a project due at the end of the semester, and he wanted you to be acquainted with someone rather than having a person working alone. 

You sat there, Baby Yoda ceramic mug in hand, as you waited for your breakout room to load and to see who you were destined to work with for the next fourteen weeks. 

There was a knock on your door that distracted you from seeing the video of someone else load. 

"Sorry, I know you're in class, but I was wondering when lunch was to see how big of a snack I should have." Amy shoots you a small smile. 

"No worries, Ames, I'm out at 12:45 and will need half an hour to cook, so roughly 1:30. Is that okay?" You tell her feeling a little awful, making her wait. 

"It's perfect. Have a good class." Amy shuts the door.

As you hear the click, you turn back to your computer, and they're staring at you in a lavender cardigan with a white shirt underneath is the one and only Harry Styles.  

His curls are shorter, meaning he recently got a haircut, and they are just growing back. You wished he had let it grow out, wanting to see how much more ruly they would have gotten.

You feel your face heat up, remembering you did not do your hair, instead of letting it sit messily in a low ponytail, small hair framing your hair. You were sure the black sweatshirt you had one had a hummus stain but too afraid to look down to check. You weren't even aware he was in this class; it shows you should be paying attention more to your classmates. 

He shoots you a small smile, and you grimace, trying to force one out, but you're still a bit shocked. 

You see his microphone go white, meaning he was about to speak. You leaned forward in anticipation, a bit desperate to hear his smooth accent through your computer speakers. 

"Hello, it's been a while." Harry raises his glasses to hold back his hair. 

You reach forward and unmute yourself. "Hello, Harry. It has been a while. It's a new year and everything." You joke. 

He chuckles, scratching his chin. You aren't sure what to do; it was never this awkward the first time you chatted. 

"Guess we're partners, huh." 

"Apparently." You sigh, a bit loud, forgetting he can hear you. 

"Ouch, don't need to sound too excited." He tells you not at all hiding his frown. 

"No, I didn't." You stop not knowing how to go back from that. "Sorry, that was rude of me." 

He nods, not saying anything more, and you take it as a sign to continue. 

"I-i, well, after our last class ended, I figured that was that. You said goodbye in the last email, so I figured that was the end of our friendship, if you can even call it that." 

"I thought my email would give the opposite impression, but not everything can translate as smoothly when talking." He tells you, which causes you to pause. 

"Your email literally said goodbye," You blurt out before you can stop yourself.

He hides his smile, "My subject said goodbye, the content said quite the opposite. You did read it, right?" 

You duck your head, not allowing yourself to meet his eye even through a computer screen, too embarrassed to be caught. "Well, no, I didn't. Hurt my feelings, just seeing the goodbye." You look up and see his eyes soften, giving you just a bit more courage to continue. "I've always struggled to make friends, I have like three good friends, and it's hard putting myself out there, and I didn't actually if you considered me a friend or not." 

"Y/N" He breathes out your name.

You stop him before he can continue. "Do you mind if I read it now?" 

Harry shakes his head. 

You restore down the zoom and open up your Gmail on the split-screen. You find it reasonably quickly; you look up at him to see him patiently sitting back chipping at his nails. They are a pastel yellow; it makes you smile, knowing just yesterday you went from that color to a deep red. 

[email protected] 

Subject: Goodbye 

Y/N, 

It's been enjoyable emailing back and forth. I honestly would not have passed this class without you. I think you are brilliant and if I had you in every course, I would finish with A's in them all. So, thank you for having the patience to teach me. 

Also, thank you for being my friend. I know we mostly talked about school work. Still, you did help me decide on what coat to buy for my sister, so I know that makes us friends, and I did help you get that switch for your little brother. (That was like trying to buy floor tickets for Lady Gaga.)

On another note, after emailing for twelve weeks, I was wondering if I could have your number. I would like the chance to give you a call and formally ask you on a date. I know we're in the middle of a pandemic, and dating is hard, but we can do zoom dates before we try in person. 

I understand if it's a no, but I am really grateful to have met you.

Your friend (although I do want to try to be more)

Harry Styles 

City Pointe Apt 32 (in case you want to send a care package, I would gladly return the favor)

"Oh, Harry," You inhale, "I'm so sorry." 

"No worries." He shrugs. 

You pause, thinking your next words. "I live in Rose Villa." Those were not the words you wanted to say, but you don't take it back. 

"That's across the street from my building." He gasps. "We could have run into each other." 

You nod. "Small world." 

Harry brings his focus back to something you skipped over. "I realize you didn't mention the part of asking you on a date." 

"Oh, I figured you over that now. It's been well over a month since I ignored your email." You grimace, starting to feel awful about it all over again. 

"I guess it was email abandonment this time." He jokes.

You laugh, and it gets Harry laughing as well. He was always good at that, making you laugh and not be so serious even if he didn't know it. 

"Y/N," Harry's voice was strong, no signs of laughter in his trace. You lock eyes as best you can through a computer screen. "I would still very much like to take you on a date."

A date with Harry. 

You want to say yes, but it's like you're frozen. 

"Can I say something else before you give me an answer?" You nod, waiting for him to go on. "Sarah Jones, do you know her?" 

Sarah Jones, you rack your brain trying to place her. 

The theater composer. She's written original tracks for the theatre department for the original plays they've done and remakes. She's won countless awards.

Sarah even won the talent show. Played a killer drum solo that no one else could ever think of topping. 

If you're honest, she's the definition of your girl crush. 

"We follow each other on social media. We met at a paint night; she was really easy to talk to." You tell him, remembering how sweet she was to you when she saw you walk in, and just as you were about to walk out, she introduced herself to you, asking to sit with you. 

He nods. "Sarah is my roommate's girlfriend. Mitch and Sarah practically live together; he's so in love with her it truly is the sweetest thing. Back to the point, she overheard me talking about you to Mitch and spoke how she knew you. Then I proceeded to stalk your Instagram on her account. I hope that's not weird." 

You laugh, and it causes Harry to calm down, "Not weird at all. I would have done the same thing, but as you can see, I rarely upload anything." 

"Well, the things you do have, I think, are wonderful." He rambles on explaining how your beach photo on a bike with a pretty pink basket was one of his favorites and how cute you look wearing sweaters. 

As endearing as Harry was being, you decided to put him out of his misery. "Harry," you interrupt. 

"Yes." 

"I'd love to go on a date with you." 

"You would?" He gasps in surprise. 

"Yes." 

"That's fantastic. I think this is the best birthday gift I could have received." He tells you, but you're stuck on the last thing he said. 

"It's your birthday?" 

Harry smiles sheepishly. "Yes." 

"Happy Birthday, Harry." You tell him softly, a big smile on your face.

A blush overtakes his face; you can tell he wishes to cover up his face with hands but holds back from doing so. "Thank you." 

"Do you have any plans?" 

"No, well. Mitch and Sarah are coming over for lunch in a bit. Then they are off to study at Sarah's for the week. Her roommates are gone for the week." 

You frown, not liking that he'll spend the rest of his birthday alone. 

"Would you-never mind" You stop yourself from being able to invite yourself over to celebrate with him?

"Hey, it's okay. Whatever you wanted to say, I wouldn't judge you, love." His voice was soft and reassuring. 

"Well, I'd love to come over and hang out with you if that's okay. I can make us dinner, I make delicious enchiladas. Also, my carrot cake is to die for." 

Harry is surprised at her offer but nods his head quickly. "That sounds wonderful, but you don't have to cook for me. We can order takeout."

She shakes her head. "Consider it my gift to you." 

"Well, okay. Is six okay for you?" He bites his lip, not believing this is happening.

"Perfect." 

You sit there smiling at each other. 

When a message pops up overhead, "You have five minutes left before we join back as a group."

Your eyes go wide, having forgotten you were in class. "We didn't even discuss the assignment." 

Harry shakes his head in laughter, a smile spreads over your face. He has an adorable laugh that just rings through your ears, and you can't wait to hear it in person. 

"We've got time, now that it seems we'll be getting to know each other better." 

You relax, settling a bit, you have weeks before the assignment is due.

"I'll email you my number, love. Easier to communicate for later."

"Sounds great." You respond. 

_____

It's five-fifty, and you're standing outside his door. You're more than a little nervous. You're wearing high waisted jeans paired with a black off the shoulder top with floral embroidered sleeves. You decided against a sweater knowing the short walk would keep you warm enough. Your mask is red, with three small hearts stitched on the lower right side. Perfect for February. 

You shift the items in your hand to the right and lift your hand up to knock. After three gentle knocks, you hear footsteps and take a step back. 

"Hi," Harry breathes out, a big smile on his face.

"Hello, Harry, happy birthday." 

"Thank you." He smiles wide, blessing you with his dimples. Definitely look better in person. "Please come in." He grabs some of the items from your hand and allows you to step in before locking the door behind you. 

"Your mask is lovely. Did you make it?" 

"I did!" You share excitedly. "My roommate, Amy, and I spent lots of our free time making a different kind. We took old shirts we no longer wanted and used for the material. It was a lot of trial and error, but we're pretty solid at it now. My embroidery could use some work, but I think it's lovely. 

"It really is. Would you make me one?" He asks, staring at you as you pocket your mask. No longer needing it in his home. 

"Yes, I'll send you pictures of the fabric I have, or you could come over, and I can teach you as well." You tell him, excited at the prospect. 

"Sounds like a wonderful date." You nod, feeling your body get warm at the word date because today could also classify as a date. 

Harry knocks you out of your head when calling your name. "Turned the oven on like you requested." He informs you. 

"Thank you, my mom showed me how to make them, but I learned about the melted cheese on my own. She wasn't a big fan of it, but everyone else I know loves it, so I hope you will as well." 

Harry grabs your hand and gives it a squeeze. "I'm sure it's wonderful." He bumps your shoulder gently. "Go finish up; I'll set the table." 

He pushes you into the kitchen, and you go in and place your stuff. Harry is whistling, settling down on the table two glasses and two forks when you turn back around towards him. 

Harry turns around just in time for you to wrap your hands around his waist. You fit perfectly in his arms, taking in his musky scent. "Happy birthday, Harry." You whisper against his chest.

He squeezes you tighter, leaning his head on top of yours. "Thank you, love." 

He pulls back, holding you by your shoulders. A big smile on his face, you reciprocate it feeling his happiness warm your heart. 

"Run along now; I'm starving." He jokes.

You walk backward, creating distance; as his left-hand trails down your right hand slowly until he's touching your fingertips, do you pull away. Although you, more than anything, wanted to hold his hand. You want to feel the weight of it in yours; you want to know if his hands are soft or calloused. How cool his rings will feel against your palm. All in due time. 

"I'm happy to be here." 

"Me too, love. Me too." 

It's safe to say you were more than luckily going to have yourself a valentine for the first time in a long time.